Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Mother Nature is as generous as she is cruel, Hisashi trembles while he carefully cradles his son, his dearest treasure in his arms. It is understandable, nothing in this world is completely for free, all actions demand a sacrifice.

He understands.

But the pain of losing a loved one, a familiar pain, shreds all reason to pieces.

His treasure would never know the love of a mother, just like he did. Nevertheless, Izuku  won’t suffer the way he did, he won’t allow it. He will create a world his child can find happiness in, no matter the sacrifice.

For now he shall mourn with his slumbering child in his arms, tomorrow the sun will rise again.

Once again Hisashi can’t help but be grateful for his treasure’s good behaviour. The infant is awake but quiet in his arms, Hisashi hasn’t let go since the untimely death of his mother.

Inko, she too was, no is someone he dearly treasures. He glances at the closed door in front of him. How long had it been since he had last seen her alive?

Time doesn’t freeze for the grieving but it cannot be too long ago…

His lost sense of time seems to have left him reeling more than he’d like to admit. However, before he could analyse his own emotions yet again, Izuku stirs in his arms.

Hisashi immediately gives all his attention to his treasure, his grieving gaze is met with familiar deep green eyes. Izuku quietly coos at him, a sound that somehow made his heart beat again, the infant wriggles in his gentle hold.

He hushes his treasure and softly buries his nose in Izuku’s little chest, the infant appears to calm down at the gesture, much to Hisashi’s relief. Silence is broken only by their quiet breaths.

Hisashi shoulders tremble faintly as tears finally break free from his eyes, curled around his son’s sleeping form he allows himself to break down for the last time.

He will keep his treasure safe.

Izuku will live a long and happy life.

Hisashi will make sure of it.

Quiet, near imperceptible footsteps alert him of another presence.

“Sir, I’d like to inform you that multiple heroes and police officers are on their way to our current location. We should vacate the premises soon.”

Hisashi tears his eyes away from Izuku to take in the kneeling form of one of his most loyal subordinates, Crimson. The assassin clad in his signature snow white, a symbol of his skill, hadn’t raised his head to meet his gaze. Instead his only visible eye is closed, not even glancing at Hisashi’s mournful visage. He feels slight gratitude well up in him that his comrade won’t have to look at the sorry state he’s currently in.

With a deep breath he raises from his seat, cradling Izuku just a bit closer, before addressing the other’s respectful presence, “Very well. Let us leave for our home.”

A well known black abyss opens in front of them, yet before he steps trough he leaves his subordinate with a command;

“Leave them a warning they cannot forget.”

“Yes sir.”

Both disappear from the scene, leaving but a dark bloody scene behind.

It has been roughly a month since that particular night.

Izuku recovered without further complications, he shines with health whenever he’s awake. Hisashi himself has yet to leave his side for longer than a few hours.

The thought of his precious treasure cold and alone made him want to go insane. He’d rather gut himself than leave yet another loved one behind, he refuses to repeat his past mistakes. Therefore Izuku is showered with love whenever he’s awake, and watched over vigilantly whenever he’s asleep.

His comrades vaguely mutter that his enemies wouldn’t believe their eyes if they ever saw him like this, but Hisashi honestly couldn’t care less about their opinion of him. In fact, it is not a problem whatsoever, his enemies he will vanquish and his comrades are too enamoured with Izuku to even consider trying something they’ll regret. Nothing can tear him away from his treasure.

A gentle tug on his finger brings him back to the present, Hisashi apologetically smiles at the infant he’s bottle feeding, “I’m sorry Izuku, what do you do with an old man like your father?” His inquiry is, as expected, not given a response.

It is exactly 7 o’clock in the evening, a fact confirmed with a  glance to the grandfather clock nearby. Hisashi releases another deep sigh, Izuku had gone to sleep half an hour ago and is still slumbering peacefully in the crib next to him, he could only be glad for that small mercy.

He truly loves to indulge in the precious infant’s every whim but it didn’t do much good for his ever increasing workload. Simply neglecting to do his paperwork sadly isn’t an option either, Izuku is his main priority but he couldn’t ignore the people he came to see as family and risk having all of his hard work fall into ruin.

Hence he finds himself filling in, reading and re-reading the copious amount of reports and other miscellaneous papers.

It seems that the overly boisterous fools who call themselves heroes have been causing more trouble than Hisashi had expected. From leading to arrest to injuring henchmen and causing collateral damage, those fools are turning into quite the thorn in his side.

He grinds his teeth in irritation as he reads yet another report of an injured comrade, now unable to fight. How dare they endanger his precious Izuku’s future.

Hisashi takes another deep breath, willing the murderous call of his quirk to calm down, he’ll deal with those troublesome pests later. As for now he must locate a safer location for his family to seek shelter.

At the bottom of the paperwork pile he had been working on he sees exactly what he had been looking for. Chrono is as meticulous and foretelling as ever, an unbidden smirk snakes its way onto his face.

A map, showing him a detailed depiction of the prefecture Nara in southern Japan.

Indeed the location is perfect, far away enough from Tokyo and other ‘hero hotspots’ to make the execution of his plans easier, and even better, the area is important enough to leave a significant scar in that useless government.

A soft sound next to him reminds him of the most important detail, the area is magnificent and beautiful, truly the perfect place for Izuku to grow up.

His sharp grin softens, “I’ll make sure you find happiness there, Izuku.”

Nearly a year later, the entire police force is left reeling, a significant amount of villains had disappeared off the grid, leaving not a trace behind.

With a sense of foreboding, heroes felt that Japan was never going to be the same again.

Chapter Text

Izuku leisurely wakes up, first noticing the warm summer morning and the low light of the rising sun. Groggily he rubs his eyes and stifles a big yawn, today is supposed to be an important day, what was it again?

A blur of green in the corner of his eye catches his attention. A plant? Where did he…

With a jolt he remembers, today is his fourth birthday, papa had gotten him the lovely Mosaic plant as an early birthday present. Izuku excitedly takes in the pretty white marks on the deep green leaves, his papa had told him that if he could wait for him until this evening he would get an even better present.

Any present from his papa is a great one though, so Izuku could hardly imagine anything even better than his warm hugs and loving nuzzles. He giggles to himself a little, his papa is so silly.

Now fully awake he briefly looks around his cosy bedroom, the soft creamy white walls decorated with warm wooden shelves and cabinets filled to the brim with books, stuffed toys and other knickknacks. In his short lifetime he has been given plenty of presents, nonetheless Izuku never stopped feeling grateful for all the gifts he has gotten, because his family had gone trough the trouble of picking them for him.

Feeling eager to start the day, he quickly gets washed up and dressed, who will he go see first today?

“Good morning!” Izuku says cheerfully when he enters the dining room.

“Good morning young master, how was your rest?”

Izuku grins happily, of course the first person he sees is Kurogiri, the misty man is often there to greet him for breakfast, always busy cleaning one thing or another.

“It was great, thank you!” Izuku politely replies.

Manners first, but his excitement must have showed for Kurogiri’s glowing  yellow eyes curve in parody of a smile, “I take you’re very eager to receive all your presents today, young master?”

Kurogiri has a funny way of talking as well, no actually, his entire family is kind of silly, but Izuku doesn’t mind, he loves them either way. A brief quiet breezes  trough the dining room while Izuku takes a bite of the cereal Kurogiri made for him.

“Yes very! But…” Izuku frowns a bit, should he ask? He glances at Kurogiri, the man seems to be waiting for him to continue, patient as ever. Izuku must be a bit silly as well to think that Kurogiri would be angry at him for asking something simple as that. Izuku quickly swallows his unnecessary nerves.

“But have you seen papa anywhere?” He manages to ask in a bit of a hurry.

For some odd reason, Kurogiri shoulders tensed visibly. Izuku never really knows where his father would disappear off to sometimes, his family never tells him either.

About to drop the subject Izuku is surprised to hear Kurogiri answer.

“He went out to deal with some unattended business and to tend to your birthday present, young master. Don’t be concerned however, he told me he’d be back as soon as possible.”

Izuku decided to ignore the odd tone he spoke in, he felt grateful to hear nothing dangerous was going on behind his back. But the slight disappointment of his father’s absence guiltily lingers.

“Okay, thank you for telling me Kurogiri.”

Silence fills the room yet again while Izuku finishes eating his breakfast, just as Izuku was about to leave for his lessons, he didn’t want to skip even though it’s his birthday, Kurogiri speaks up.

“Would it cheer you up if I’ll make you katsudon for dinner?”

Izuku energetically cheers at the suggestion, he straightens up and grins cheerily at Kurogiri.

“Yes, please, thank you!”

Kurogiri chuckles good naturedly and pets his wild hair.

“It’s a promise then, young master. I hope you’ll enjoy your birthday.”

That, Izuku thinks, isn’t difficult. His day is already great.

Trotting trough the hallways on his socks is always fun. Especially when he gets to greet many of his papa’s subordinates while they start their day. But no matter the fun, running over the smooth wooden floor on socks is kind of risky, he slips and falls quite often. This time though, his fall is broken by a pair of hands catching him before he can fall.

Thanking the kind person, Izuku steadies himself before properly looking at the one who helped him. Bright leaf green hair is the first thing that greets his eyes in a happy familiar sight.

“Good morning, miss Amuralde.” Izuku greets.

Amuralde’s face stays stoic and placid trough the greeting, but Izuku knows she happy to see him. She is always nearly impossible to read but is actually really gentle and always kind. He’s always happy to see her, as she often shows him the jewellery she makes with the help of her quirk.

Quirks are awesome! Izuku hopes to get his own soon.

A pair of ruby red eyes bring him back to the present, Amuralde is kneeling in front of him, holding a carefully wrapped present. “Happy birthday, little prince.”

Despite the quiet monotone Izuku knows she means it, eyes are the window to the soul and her eyes shines with warmth. Izuku is pretty sure his own must be sparkling with how happy he is at the moment.

“Wow for me? Thank you very much!”

Izuku gently takes the present from Amuralde’s hands, “can I open it now?” The girl leans in, like an excited puppy, Izuku giggles quietly before taking the answer for what it is.

Izuku unwraps the present with care and takes out a beautiful gilded emerald pendant. It sparkles almost lovingly in the sunlight, his breath stills at the sight. It must have taken a lot of effort to make a jewel like that. Izuku quickly dons it and jumps to hug Amuralde around the shoulders whispering thank you. “It wasn’t a problem little prince.”

Izuku smiles, he knows that, his family is very skilled with their quirks. It doesn’t take away from his gratitude though. Amuralde’s work carries a lot of emotion, emotion she usually doesn’t show. The way the emerald stone shines tells him it was made with love and care.

Izuku would love to stay and chat for a little bit longer but his lessons start minutes from now, he knows he should hurry. Telling others when they take the time to talk to him though, fills him with apprehension. Luckily Amuralde takes notice of the time as well, she tells him goodbye with a polite little bow and leaves.

Izuku waves after her for a little before he continues padding his way along the hallways, carefully this time.

When Izuku finally arrives at the library he is enthusiastically greeted by a working Chrono.

“Good morning little prince, I see you’ve been enjoying your birthday so far.” The oddly eyed man greets him with his usual carefree smile, Izuku really likes Chrono, he is always honest and teaches him a lot of new interesting things.

He hurries to the table he’s seated at, peering trough book piles taller than himself, he responds to Chrono’s comment.

“Yep, your right, as always!” Chrono has to be psychic or something like that. To be honest, Izuku has no idea what the man’s quirk is, but he didn’t let himself be bothered by the secrecy. Chrono always told him that he should guess, it’s a lot of fun to think of the most outrageous quirks a person could possibly have.

This is why he knows exactly what the man means when he asks him, “Have you guessed yet?”

Izuku dramatically rubs his chin, humming thoughtfully.

“A psychic time-travelling quirk!”

Chrono snorts with a wide smile on his face, “Does the quirk time travel?”

“Nonono, you do, you time travel while reading peoples minds! Am I right?” Izuku bounces on his seat. He’s very certain now, all the evidence points to it. But to his dismay Chrono shakes his head.

“I’m sorry little prince, you are a very smart child, but you’re wrong.”

Oh well, he didn’t really mind. It just means he has to try better next time. Though that didn’t mean that his shoulders don’t droop a bit.

Chrono chuckles, “Now, now. There’s no need for that pout. I’m sure you’ll guess it next time.”

He wasn’t pouting! And Chrono told him the exact same thing last time as well, how mean. The man, who had been laughing loudly just now, finally calms down and ends his embarrassed misery.

“What subject would you like to learn about today?” He asks.

Chrono lets him choose this time? A pleasant surprise, since he usually gets taught whatever Chrono has on had on when he joins him. Izuku glances at the books on the table, all of them have long, hard titles he cannot read. “Can I choose anything?”

Chrono shakes his head, “I’m afraid you wouldn’t understand any of these. How about I go and grab a couple of different books and let you choose which one you like best?” Izuku likes that idea, so he nods and watches him get up and disappear behind tall bookcases.

He cannot actually take classes other than basic math and Japanese yet, much to his disappointment, because he’s too young. Everyone tells him he should go ahead and enjoy being a child first. But he actually loves to learn new things, that’s why he always joins Chrono with his work in the morning.

He once learned the man has photographic memory, it means he never forgets a thing, so whenever he joins his side he gets to hear the man explain all sorts of things in a language he understands while the actual book rests in front of  Izuku’s very own eyes. It feels like he’s actually reading, Chrono is so cool!

Suddenly he sees the man emerge again, a much smaller pile of books carried in his hands. Chrono smiles at him when their eyes meet, why does he look so devious?

“Well then little prince. Go ahead and take a pick.”

Izuku looks at the books laid out before him, there were covers with stars, trees, animals, a cool looking dragon and for some reason one without a title or image. He points at it in confusion, “Which is this one?”

Chrono’s playful smile grows wider, “your birthday present.”

The statement earns Chrono a blank stare. The library is suddenly completely silent, Chrono seems to having a harder and harder time holding back his laughter. Suddenly the meaning of the words suddenly click in Izuku’s confused mind.

“My birthday present?!” He parrots, a broad smile blossoming on his face, “Really?”

“Yes, it’s yours. Don’t think I haven’t seen you staring at my notebook whenever I’m working little prince. I see everything.” Chrono responds, bright eyed with amusement.

Izuku lets the hint to his mysterious quirk slide for once, his mind and eyes are glued to the hardback cover notebook in his hands. Gingerly he opens it to find it completely empty and ready to be filled with meaningful words. Izuku is speechless.

“Come to me when it’s full,” Chrono offers with a light tone, “I’ll give you a new one.”

That’s great and all but, “Chrono, I can’t write properly yet.”

Chrono’s face promptly freezes, bright red and blue eyes stare into his own. For a moment Chrono reminds him of an owl, the mental image makes giggle.

“Is that so…” how the tables have turned, “well, you can keep it until you can.”

Luckily the staring doesn’t last long, the man soon joins him in his laughter.

“Don’t worry I still like it!” Izuku reassures, not wanting to sound ungrateful. “I wonder what I should write in it though.”

Chrono, having recovered from his apparent shock, leans in close to Izuku’s  face and rests his chin on his folded hands, his odd eyes have a funny gleam in them. “You are much like your father, little prince. Why not write about your quirk?”

His quirk? Oh right, he was told that most quirks appear when someone turns four years old. It wasn’t a bad idea to use the notebook for that. He tells Chrono exactly that. In response Chrono leans in even closer, prompting Izuku to lean back.

“Yes, your quirk. About your quirk-” Suddenly Chrono is cut off by a book appearing where his head had been barely a moment ago.

Izuku blinks in bewilderment, what had just happened?

“Spatiel, how mean…” Chrono wines playfully.

“Don’t you start idiot, you’re scaring the kid.”

The snarling woman, Spatiel, is Chrono’s younger twin. Izuku thinks they’re funny because they’re nothing like each other, much like certain characters he had been read about in a book once. His papa had called them ‘a bit cliché’, whatever that may mean.

Spatiel’s odd eyes stare into his reminiscent to how her brother’s had a moment ago. She then looks away and mumbles under her breath while dragging her brother away from the table.

But before they leave, Spatiel gruffly calls over her shoulder, “Happy birthday, Izuku.”

Izuku smiles, behind her explosive and fiery spirit is a caring person. Spatiel rewards his smile with a challenging smirk, “Tell you what squint, when you grow up I’ll teach you how to fight, consider that your present.”

He barely had the time to yell ‘thank you’ before they disappear trough the door.

Izuku was perfectly aware that Chrono wasn’t going to come back any time soon, so he had grabbed the book about trees along with his new notebook and had taken them with him to the gardens outside.

The gardens of the large traditional Japanese mansion he lives in are absolutely beautiful and a popular place for anyone to relax. So it’s shouldn’t have been as much of a surprise to see someone already there. But Crimson of all people?

The usually serious, devoted man sits reclined underneath the shade of a large lush green cherry blossom tree, reading what looks like a novel with a calm expression on his face. Izuku doesn’t hesitate a moment to bound up to Crimson’s side.

“Good morning Crimson! What are you reading?” Izuku says when he plops down next to him, feeling somewhat smug at the minute surprised look on the normally collected man’s face.

Crimson then calmly shows him the cover of the book knowing he loves to see those, his family knows him so well!

“Good morning young prince. I’m reading the first volume of the ‘Sherlock Holmes’ series, your father recommended it to me.” Crimson answers.

Right, his papa has a really large bookcase as well, at least three times bigger than Izuku himself.

He grins at Crimson, “It must be a great book then.”

Crimson nods, “It has been interesting so far.” The man then takes a customary glance at what Izuku is holding, “Are you going to read that, young prince?”

Izuku nods energetically, “trees are amazing!”

His energy rewards he a slight smile, “they are, aren’t they?”

The two of them fall into a short but companionable silence until Crimson breaks it with a softly spoken question. “Is it your birthday today, young prince?”

Izuku practically glows at the question and answers ecstatically, “Yeah! I got a lot of amazing things, like this necklace and this notebook and Kurogiri is going to make me katsudon this dinner!” He shifts to sit in front of Crimson to show his amazing gifts. Crimsons smile grows wider.

“I see, I’m glad you’ve been enjoying your day so far.” Crimson secretively reaches behind his back a pulls out a old looking wooden box, “I hope you don’t mind a gift from me as well.”

Izuku gasps in wonder, a gift from Crimson? The box looks old but well taken care of, it seems important so Izuku takes it with care. “Can I really have this?”

“I wouldn’t be giving it to you if you couldn’t.” He patiently answers.

Knowing for sure Crimson means it, he gently opens the lid. Inside he sees a ornate, nicely polished knife. Izuku’s eyes sparkle, it looks so special, it makes Izuku feel like an actual prince. “Wow, it’s amazing! Thank you Crimson!” He gushes over the gift.

“I’m glad you like it, young prince. It’s a family ornament, but I hardly use it. I thought it’ll have a better life in your hands.” Crimson explains.

 Izuku gapes in awe, “Really? Thank you! I’ll take great care of it.”

Izuku was just about to reach into the box and take a closer look at the weapon before a very familiar voice calls out his name. He hurries to look behind him, to make sure the person is really there.

“Papa!” Izuku shouts with elation.

With unrivalled enthusiasm Izuku quickly gets up from his seat to run up to his kneeling father and jump straight into his open arms. “Happy birthday Izuku.” His papa warmly says while hugging him tightly in return.

Izuku gratefully mumbles ‘thank you’ into papa’s usual white dress shirt.

He distantly hears papa and Crimson greet each other. Despite how wonderful his day has already been, the familiar sight of his father makes it even better. Izuku stays the way he is until he runs out of breath, only then he pulls away with a dramatic gasp to look up at his father warmly smiling down at him. His large calloused hand gently ruffle his wild hair in the silly loving way only his papa can manage, Izuku giggles at the attention.

From the corner of his eye he sees Crimson calmly approach carrying a neat pile of his birthday gifts in his hands, Izuku is glad that he had remembered to put the box with the precious knife down before running to his papa.

“I see you’ve gotten plenty of nice gifts today already, Izuku.” Papa says and Izuku nods.

“Yep! I even got Crimson’s family orne… orna… er-”

“-Ornament?” Papa offers.

“Yeah, ornament!”

“That’s really nice of him,” a glance over Izuku’s shoulder tells him that Crimson is still there, “may I take a look?”

When Izuku turns around he sees Crimson kneeling to his eye level as well, the man has the foresight to offer him the wooden box, was he showing off? Izuku takes it anyway, “Of course papa, here.”

His papa grows strangely quiet at the sight of the pretty silver knife, an even stranger look is send Crimson’s way. Izuku somehow feels like he’s missing something.

Crimson apparently feels the need to explain himself, “As he’s your heir, sir, I felt it to be an appropriate gift for such an important age.”

Papa mumbles something unintelligible, he then turns to Izuku while closing the box, effectively hiding the pretty knife from view. “Izuku, promise me you’ll leave the gift in this box until you’re older.” Papa says while looking him straight in the eye.

Izuku tilts his head, “Why?” Can’t he take a closer look?

Papa returns the box to him after throwing yet another weird glance at Crimson, “I don’t want you to accidently hurt yourself. This is a very sharp knife, even though it looks pretty it’s made to cut. Let Crimson teach you how to properly hold it first.” After a moment he adds, “When you’re older.”

Is his papa also a mind reader?

After they all had a rather late lunch together, his papa told him to wait in his room for a short while.

Izuku doesn’t mind waiting really, everyone always tells him he’s very grown up for his age, but he has been waiting the entire day and he’s starting to feel pretty impatient.

Trying not to think too much about the temporary absence of his father, Izuku occupies himself by storing all his gifts, except the necklace which is left around his neck.

The box with the knife goes into his nightstand, the notebook goes on the lowest shelve of his small bookcase and oh, he forgot to bring back the book about trees. He should probably return that later.

Once he’s finished plops down on his large plush bed, bouncing just a little. Izuku stares at the door hoping he’ll spontaneously activates a quirk that can make time go faster.

Time… His mind goes back to Chrono’s quirk, what if he can mentally rewind time, he stares at a persons face and jumps back to a certain moment. He shakes his head, no way, it’s too much like his previous guess and that had been wrong.

A knock on his door warns him of his papa’s entrance, he’s holding a terracotta pot filled with fresh earth for some reason. “Hello Izuku, I hope you didn’t have to wait for too long.”

It felt like an eternity, not that he’ll tell his papa that, “No, papa. Time flew by!”

Papa playfully raises an eyebrow at him, but doesn’t ask any further. Izuku giggles when he sits down on his bed next to him, the terracotta pot is put on his nightstand, next to the plant he had given him yesterday evening. Was the pot not his gift?

“Izuku, I want to tell you something very important.” His papa seems serious, he quickly straightens up, looking at him with interest. Papa’s powerful gaze softens a little, Izuku feels secretly glad about that.

Papa takes a deep breath before continuing, “I haven’t told you about my quirk yet, have I?” It’s one of those questions you don’t have to answer, but Izuku shakes his head anyway. “My quirk is called ‘All for One’, it’s the ability to not only take other quirks but to give them to others as well.”

Izuku’s eyes sparkle, such an amazing quirk! He wants to tell his papa such but Izuku sees the look in his eyes and keeps quiet. “But that’s not all it can do. It allows me to hold a near infinite amount of quirks without negative side affects. I also know you carry it as well.” The last thing leaves Izuku reeling, he has such an amazing quirk?! His papa smiles at him, “this is why I wanted to give you your first quirk today.”

His first quirk! Izuku cheers and hugs his papa tightly, melting into the familiar warmth that is his father. “Thank you papa!” He lets go, “But how do you give quirks?” It’s not something you can just hold, right? His papa laughs, ruffling his already wild hair.

“With a simple touch.” Papa says and Izuku gasps in wonder, it’s so easy! “Though it’s a little more complicated, something I cannot quite explain to you yet, don’t go ahead of yourself Izuku. You could hurt yourself or someone else if you do it wrong.”

That is bad, Izuku feels worry well up in him at the sad look in his papa’s eyes, even though it’s gone as fast as he had seen it. Papa takes a deep breath, “Will you let me give you your first quirk, Izuku?”

Izuku nods with vigour, “Of course!”

He trusts his father, no matter what.

His papa grins widely and leans his forehead against Izuku’s, cradling his face in his large hands. “Very well then.” He had hardly finished speaking before a brief wave of energy sends a tingle down his spine, Izuku has to hold back a giggle at the strange, ticklish feeling.

Papa pulls back a little and stares him in the eyes for a while, Izuku takes the challenge and stares back until he just couldn’t anymore, he breaks down in uncontrollable laughter. He notices from the corner of his eyes that his father visibly deflates before joining him.

When they finally calm down, papa hands him a handkerchief to wipe away his happy tears, “There it’s done.” He says

Izuku beams at his papa with relief, “Really?! That strange tingly feeling was it?” He had been mildly concerned that it would hurt but now that he thinks about it, he had nothing to fear, his papa would never hurt him.

Papa looks surprised, Izuku frowns at that. “Is it not supposed to do that?” Did something go wrong?

Papa merely shakes his head, “It doesn’t usually… tingle like that, but I’m glad, at least it didn’t hurt.” At the reassurance Izuku just lets it go, his thought quickly returning to  what had just happened, forgetting all about the strange look that had passed through his father’s eyes.

“I have a quirk now…” His papa smiles patiently, Izuku turns to look  at him with wide eyes. “What quirk is it?” Izuku asks with awe clear in his voice.

Papa chuckles, “I was waiting for you to ask that. The quirk is what I like to call ‘Botanokinesis’, it gives the wielder the ability to grow and manipulate any type of plant they choose.”

Izuku gapes, so strong! It’s amazing, he loves plants! Trees are plants right? Does it work on trees?

A warm laugh breaks him out of his thoughts, had he been mumbling again? His papa doesn’t seem to mind, instead he grabs the terracotta pot that had previously been left forgotten.

“Why don’t you try it out?” Papa offers holding the pot out to him.

Izuku gingerly takes the pot from his fathers hands, he looks at his papa in confusion, “How does it work?”

Papa’s face looks a bit funny when he’s surprised, “Ah, sorry. In my excitement I forgot to explain…” he clears his throat, “For now, lightly put one of your hands on the earth in the pot I gave you,” Izuku nods with a serious looks on his face and does as instructed, all the while trying to reign in his own excitement, “And imagine the plant you’d like to grow with as much detail possible, when you’re done, simple ask for the plant of your choice to appear.”

It doesn’t take long for Izuku to think of the plant he wants to grow. He closes his eyes and desperately tries to imagine the pretty flower in the garden he had seen Kurogiri take care of yesterday, the misty man had been so kind to tell him what they were called.

“Please appear, white lily…”

To Izuku’s astonishment a bright glow enveloped to earth his hand is resting on, in his surprise he quickly yanks his hand away. A flower appeared, almost exactly like the ones he had seen, the only difference being the size, his own is a lot smaller.

He looks at his papa, who’s looking at him proudly.

“I did it!” Before the words even leave his mouth, his papa gives him a warm, tight hug.

“You most certainly did, happy birthday Izuku…”

Chapter Text

A deep breath of fresh, afternoon autumn air always calms his nerves.

Izuku, now eight years old, heaves a deep pleased sigh, thoroughly enjoying the smell of freshly fallen leaves. He much prefers the clean, healthy air of Mt. Yoshino over the stench that hovers incessantly over larger cities. A similar, but more tired, sigh has Izuku turn away from the open window to look at his father.

Papa has been awfully busy lately, co-ordinating his henchmen while watching vigilantly over their family.

He has heard the Chinese whispers haunt the hallways about ‘troublesome heroes’ and ‘annoying policemen’. Despite his young age Izuku is anything but naïve, he is perfectly aware of all the things going about behind his back. But no matter how hard he tries, his papa won’t let him help with his ‘business’.

It’s awfully frustrating. He’s far ahead of his peers when it comes to intellect, according to Chrono at least, so he should be able to at least help with some of the minor paperwork occupying his father’s desk.

But papa is adamant he should spend his childhood being an actual child and for all Izuku finds it annoying, he also understands. For all he had managed to gleam, his father hadn’t really had much of a childhood himself, forced to grow up early and take care of his younger brother whenever his own parents neglected such duty. It’s understandable that he doesn’t want Izuku to go trough the same things he did.

Izuku most definitely understands. But he pulls the line when his father starts to neglect his own health. Izuku often feels heavy with the guilt that he adds to the workload. This time he will come with him and show he can be trusted with his own wellbeing. No excuses.

Filled with determination, he quickly bounds over to where his father is seated behind a cluttered desk and promptly climbs onto his lap. Izuku feels a little smug at the visible jolt of surprise.

“Izuku? What’s wrong?” Leave it to papa to immediately think something it wrong, he buries his face onto his fathers lowers chest.

He responds once his father, finally, puts down his pen to pet his head, “Take me with you.” He’s rewarded with a quick but gentle ruffle of his hair.

“Is that what this is about, my trip to Musutafu?” Papa says, his voice carries a slight good-natured teasing tone, “How did you even know about that, I’m certain I haven’t told you yet.”

The ‘yet’ at the end of that sentence was a lie, if his father could get away with it he would have told him about it by the time he returns.

To rely precisely how he feels about it, he levels papa with a blank stare, “Rumours spread fast, especially when you ask a person really nicely.”

Papa snorts and gives him a warm smile, “Have I turned you into a little demon, Izuku?”

Izuku decides to forgive him, but only because it’s his papa and he can’t stay angry at him for too long, he grins back.

Apparently sensing he’d been forgiven, papa continues, “Very well, maybe if you ask me ‘really nicely’ I’ll let you come with me, just this once.”

Challenge accepted. Izuku puts on his best puppy eyes, pouts a little and asks as sweetly as possible, “Please let me come with you?” He even draws out the please for extra drama.

It was very effective for his father immediately bursts out laughing. It lasts only while before he calms down and nuzzles Izuku’s fluffy hair the same way he often does.

“Alright, alright, you can come with me. But only if you promise me to never do that again.” Papa says with laughter clear in his voice.

“Yes papa.” Izuku says as innocently as possible.

Hook, line and sinker.

They; papa, Kurogiri, Crimson and himself, leave for Musutafu the next day after lunch. His papa had given him a very to the point speech about staying away from trouble while they ate. Izuku had simply nodded at his fathers preach about personal safety. Even though he had forgotten most of it by the time they arrive, the most important ‘don’t go with strangers’ and ‘if someone bothers you, just call out for me, I’ll be there’ are clung to with a slightly desperate sense of necessity.

Izuku has to admit, standing in a foreign abandoned street, he is starting to feel the anxiety crawl up his throat. He tries to avoid fidgeting too obviously, he had asked for this himself and there is no way he’s backing out now, but it’s also the first time he’s been so far away from the safety of his home. A muted  sound alerts him to his papa crouching in front of him, his face looks slightly concerned.

“Are you sure you want to stay Izuku? Kurogiri can take you back if you want to.” Izuku shakes his head, he wants to stay, show he’s strong and brave. To make his father proud, is whispered in the back of his head.

“I’ll be fine, really.” Papa’s gaze is still doubtful, Izuku continues trying to sound as confident as possible, “You’ll probably send Crimson after me anyhow.”

Crimson chooses that exact moment to step forward, “I won’t loose sight of the young prince, sir.”

Papa pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs deeply, “Okay, just… stay out of trouble Izuku, and-”

“-Don’t go with strangers. Yes papa, I know.” His papa finally cracks a smile, his warm hand ruffling his hair, “You’re very precious to me, I cannot help but worry.”

It’s true, his papa worries enough for two dozen parents. But Izuku doesn’t mind, he gives his father a quick hug around the neck.

After a while they say their goodbyes and separate, his father leaves with Kurogiri and Crimson disappears from view.

Izuku knows he isn’t really alone, but he certainly feels like it. He ponders his routes a little, having looked at a few maps of Musutafu before going to sleep, so Izuku has quite a few ideas. Deciding on his destination, a local park, he sets out to walk with purpose in each step.

Of course, he couldn’t be left alone on his peaceful stroll to the park. Izuku stares, or at least tries to, at the number two hero Endeavour, squinting his eyes. The man is huge and not to forget literally on fire, truly a ‘blinding’ sight to behold. Even worse, Endeavour is glaring at him for some reason, as far as Izuku can tell he looks like someone just stole his favourite cup of tea right in front of his eyes. Nonetheless it’s a pretty scary sight.

“Little brat,” Izuku has to wonder, is this man really a hero? “have you seen a kid around your age running around here?” Endeavour asks with about as much tact as one would expect from a man on fire.

It’s a strange question, as Izuku is pretty sure it’s two in the afternoon on a school day, no children his age should be running around alone at this time. The man’s glare intensifies with the second when Izuku doesn’t immediately reply.

Cold sweat breaks out on his back, he’s defenceless, summoning plants to help him against the hero’s hellfire won’t get him far. As soon as Izuku’s about to panic he sees a flash of white in the corner of his eyes, reminding him he’s not alone. Izuku takes a deep breath to calm himself and answers the increasingly impatient looking hero with a façade of confidence.

“No sir, I haven’t.”

Endeavour looks positively infuriated now, but he doesn’t do anything but growl and leave, presumably out to search for whatever ‘kid’ he’s looking for.

Izuku heaves a relieved sigh, how scary. He whispers a quiet ‘thank you’ to Crimson, before moving on his way, all the while hoping no more trouble will come his way. His father would probably create a bloodbath had he been here. Izuku can’t help a giggle at the thought , his papa is too silly sometimes.

Still, his curiosity is peaked, who’s the missing child to the number two hero that the man himself is stalking the streets searching. At the same time he’s concerned, if Endeavour is the first to find the missing child, will they be in trouble? The hero doesn’t at all seem like a nice person, in fact Izuku is willing to bet his favourite red shoes that he’s scarier than most of the villains he knows.

While the sky grows heavier with the promise of rain, Izuku makes a decision, he’ll find the missing child first and see what’s going on for himself.

With a determined grin on his face Izuku runs to the nearest tree and gently rests his forehead against it’s bark, he whispers to it with a gentle but determined wish on his mind.

“Please tell me, have you seen a lost child?”

It took him a while, but he finally found the park he had been looking for and not a moment too late as a drizzle slowly starts to fall from the darkened sky.

Izuku’s eyes rove the park with searching eyes, seeking cover. To his relief he spots a relatively large stone tunnel near a bright neon coloured metal slide, it’s big and deep enough to properly shield him from the oncoming downpour. Izuku quickly hurries over. Though it appears he wasn’t the only person with that idea, when Izuku makes his way into the cold stone tunnel he is met with a peculiar sight.

A boy his age, with funny red and white hair evenly split trough the middle, wide slanted bi-coloured eyes and a fresh, angry looking scar over his left eye. The other boy looks at him with an equal amount of surprise. They stay frozen for a while, just staring at each other, wondering what the other will do next.

Izuku is the first to break out of their shared astonishment, he moves closer to the other boy, who sits in the dark but dry middle of the tunnel, and makes himself comfortable. Or a least as comfortable as possible in a cold stone tunnel. He hugs his damp knees and takes another look at the other boy across from him. He’s still staring, Izuku has withhold his giggles at the comical look in his eyes.

“Hello, you’re the lost boy right? I’m Midoriya Izuku, can I know your name?”  Izuku asks.

He hopes for a response, he couldn’t exactly keep calling the other ‘the other boy’ the entire time, could he?

Izuku get’s a response, “How did you know?”

Just not the one he’s looking for. He frowns at the distrusting glare in the other boy’s eyes. After a while of awkward silence, Izuku smiles. The poor other boy looks even more uncomfortable, Izuku hopes to remedy that soon.

“The trees told me.” Izuku says.

There it is, a familiar response. The boy’s glare turns to confusion.

“The trees told you?” He looks thoughtful for a while, “Is that your quirk?”

Izuku nods, “That’s part of it yeah.” His smile widens, “I’ll tell you more if you tell me your name first!”

The other boy hesitates for another moment, Izuku decides to press further, “I told you my name, it’s only fair you tell me yours.”

The other boy deflates at that, “I suppose you’re right. My name is Todoroki Shouto.” The boy, now named Shouto, says his last name with a strange but not unfamiliar tone in his voice. Hate is an emotion often too powerful to be concealed, Izuku knows that all too well.

“It’s nice to meet you, Shouto.”

Slowly but surely Shouto and himself are talking about everything and nothing. About neighbourhood cats and their favourite food. It’s surprisingly fun to talk to someone your own age, Izuku never knew he missed it until he’s talking animatedly to Shouto about his family’s strange shenanigans. He learns that Shouto is more of a listener, happy to hear him talk about all sorts of different things but not all too comfortable to be talking himself. Izuku is more than happy to give him something to listen to, happy to see his sooth covered shoulders relax, elated to see a small smile appear on his pale face.

“Do you still want to see my favourite quirk Shouto?” Izuku asks.

Shouto seems to mull over it for a moment before nodding, “if you want to.” Izuku giggles, Shouto is also quite silly, “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.” Shouto has the decency to blush a little, the response fuels his amusement.

He scoots away from Shouto and holds his hands to the hard stone of their shared shelter. It takes more energy out of him to do it away from proper life giving soil but the thought of his new friend’s reaction makes it all worth it.

“Please, Lilium, give me a flower my friend can admire.”

And as requested, a glow lights up from the middle of once dark tunnel. A small crack opens in the concrete rock where the flower breaks trough to grow between his hands. The single lily shines gently, it’s colour evenly divided down the middle, red on the left, white on the right.

Shouto stares at it with open wonder, like Izuku had just preformed nothing short of a miracle. Izuku almost doesn’t want to break the admiring silence, but he has to grab to chance laying right in front of him.

“Will you show me yours Shouto?” Izuku asks.

Widened eyes look his way, the slight glow of the lily somehow makes him look even more vulnerable and conflicted.

“Don’t worry I won’t judge, no matter what it is.” Izuku smiles reassuringly, “I want to see how brightly you shine.”

Shouto looks back at him, “I don’t like my quirk, but… I guess, if it’s you…”

He hold both hands out in front himself, “don’t come too close.” He warns before the tunnel is lighted up even brighter, the small flame in his left hand makes the ice in his right reflect warm light in lovely way. Izuku’s smile widens into an exited grin at the sight and without fear he leans closer to his new friend.

“It’s amazing! Such a unique quirk, it fits you Shouto.” Izuku exclaims.

He vaguely notices that Shouto is careful to keep the element of his quirk away from the flower Izuku summoned. He has a feeling he knows why Shouto hates his quirk, but despite the hunch he still decides to decides to ask, “Why do you dislike it Shouto?”

His friend pales, the light of his quirk quickly disappears as if it burned him. Judging from how much Izuku had managed to guess, it might as well have.

“It reminds me of him,” Shouto covers the scar over his left eye, “my father.”

Izuku nods, his hunches were right on the money, the thought however isn’t a happy or victorious one. Instead it leaves him feeling nauseous.

“It’s Endeavour right? I saw him looking for you on my way to the park.” Izuku says.

Shouto glances at him fearfully and Izuku scoots over to sit besides him before he gets a chance to panic further. He leans against his friends shoulder, hoping to calm him down. “He seems like a hateful person, that man.”

He gets a surprised look, “but he’s…”

Izuku interrupts Shouto, looking him dead in the eye, “A hero? I know. But a man like that? He’ll never be a real one, his fire burns with nothing but ire.” Izuku smiles ruefully, “He hurt you didn’t he? Don’t worry, I only want to help you.”

Bi-coloured eyes that staring into his own become tearful and the shoulder against his own starts to tremble with sorrow, right in front of his eyes Shouto finally breaks down.

“He never loved my mother.” Shouto’s voice trembles while he speaks. “He never loves his own children, he never loves anything but power. That’s all he ever wants, that’s the only reason I was born. This quirk, this fire is my father’s.. it is why… my mother…” His almost rambling speech become unrecognisable, soul-wracking sobs stopping him from saying another word. Yet it doesn’t matter, Izuku knows enough. He has to stop the hate from twisting his new friend beyond recognition.

“It’s not his fire though.” Izuku starts resolutely.

Shouto stares at him with disbelief, tears still flowing down his cheeks, the sight makes Izuku almost want to cry with him, but he won’t. He has to help him.

 “Didn’t I tell you? Endeavour’s fire burns with nothing but ire.” He continues making sure he looks Shouto straight in the eye. “But yours, Shouto, they shine with warmth. My father always tells me, it’s not the quirk that makes the person, it’s the person that makes the quirk.”

Izuku leans in to hug Shouto tightly. “Your quirk is amazing Shouto, because it’s yours.”

Shouto’s arms fly up to hug him back while his sobs quiet down a little, he buries his face into his shoulder, croaking out dozens of ‘thank you’s.

An unknown amount time passes, the two of them sit quietly, shoulder to shoulder, watching the lily with aching tired eyes.

“Thank you, I think… I think I needed that.” Shouto says.

Izuku looks towards Shouto and smiles, “That’s what friends are for right?”

Izuku peers outside, “I think it may have stopped raining.”

His friend frowns rather deeply as Izuku moves to crawl outside. He turns around towards Shouto, who refuses to look him in the eye, “Aren’t you coming?”

“I don’t want to go, can’t you stay a little longer?” Shouto asks.

Izuku laughs, making Shouto swivel around to stare at him, seeing the look in his eyes he quickly elaborates, “Well, I’m not going anywhere without you silly.”

His only response is an almost lethargic blink, “I can’t stay here, my papa is going to be worried. Who knows what will happen if he starts to looks around for me.” Izuku laughs at his own private joke, there would be allot of broken buildings, no doubt. A voice peeps out from besides him, so quiet, it could be mistaken for the wind, “Can I really come with you?”

“Of course! My family is going to love you, I’m sure you’ll fit right in.”

Shouto positively lights up, “Okay.”

Izuku wastes no time to grab Shouto’s hand and drag him out of tunnel with him, “come on, come on! Before the streets colour red!”

The both of them laugh like the children they were always meant to be, carelessly frolicking around many rain puddles as they leave the park behind them.

The only thing left behind, is a small dual coloured lily.

They find his father soon enough, and Izuku finds out he’s absolutely right, papa had indeed been looking around for him. Luckily his hands are still clean, Izuku would have hated to see his papa so distressed. Questions on his wellbeing were thankfully left aside for the time being as his papa focuses his soul-piercing gaze on his new friend.

“Who is this, Izuku?” Papa asks.

The question was not at all asked in a unfriendly way, but Shouto flinches anyway.

Izuku happily decides to answer for him, “He’s my new friend, Todoroki Shouto.”

Something like recognition flashes over his fathers eyes, Izuku files it away to ask about it later, “He doesn’t want to be a Todoroki anymore though. Can he come home with us?”

Papa stays quiet for a while, looking at Shouto with considering eyes. “Please, let me come with you mister Midoriya. I… I just can’t go back to my father. I-” Shouto stutters slightly, sounding a bit desperate. Izuku worries a little over the tone in which he speaks. Just what had that despicable man done to his new friend to scar him so badly?

His papa crouches down to their level and looks Shouto straight in the eye, “You’re Izuku’s friend, right?”

Both Shouto and Izuku straighten in surprise, what could he possible be thinking? After another long, imploring look from his father Shouto quickly nods, despite his obvious confusion there’s no hesitance to be read off of his face.

“Then I don’t see any problem with you coming along.” Papa smiles and ruffles Izuku’s slightly damp hair, “any friend of my dear child, I’ll consider my own.” Izuku smiles back, he really shouldn’t have doubted a thing.

Shouto however, isn’t as convinced. “Is it really all right?”

Papa glances back at Shouto while he get back up his feet, “Let’s say I know what type of person your father is quite well. I just had to make sure of who you were to my son.” He grabs his phone out of his back pocket, “Now, if the two of you just wait here for a moment, I’m going to call Kurogiri to take us back home.”

One phone call later and a swirling black abyss opens up right in front of their eyes, Shouto grabs Izuku’s arm in fright.

“Hey, it’s fine. That’s our way home.” Izuku says.

Shouto loosens his grip but doesn’t let go just yet, “What is that that… thing exactly?”

It’s his papa who answers, “That is a warp gate made by my close associate, Kurogiri. It’s the safest way to travel young man, not to mention the fastest.” His friends nods in acknowledgement but still doesn’t let go. That’s fine, Izuku isn’t bothered in the slightest. He had been scared the first time he travelled that way as well, so he loosens Shouto’s grip on his arm and grabs his hand instead. His friend looks at him with a strange look of gratitude, he happily smiles back in a way he hopes to be  reassuring.

“Let’s walk trough together Shouto!”

They set their fist steps together, Izuku gently tugging Shouto along to step into the black abyss in front of them, his papa close behind. Shouto’s hand was loose in his hold all the way trough.

“Izuku why don’t you show your new friend around while I go ahead and arrange a few things. You can tell me all about you day during dinner time.”

“Yes papa.” Izuku says while his papa ruffles his hair, before they could actually go ahead and do anything papa perks up as if he forgot something, “Ah yes, don’t forget to stop by your room first and freshen up a bit before you two explore, you’ll catch a cold walking around like that this time of the year.”

Izuku nods, a softly voiced agreement next to him affirms that Shouto is still alive. Speaking of which, he turns to his friend to wave a hand in front of his face as papa disappears into the house.

“Are you still in there Shouto?” Izuku asks.

Shouto jumps slightly, looking his way in a rather funny slow manner. “Is this where you live?” Izuku responds with an amused customary ‘yes’. “It’s huge…” Shouto looks around a bit more, “…and beautiful. It’s like a palace.”

Izuku hums pleasantly, “It is, isn’t it. Apparently it’s a very old estate owned by various important people in the past.”

Shouto gasps silently in awe, Izuku grabs his arm while laughing at his friend’s silly response, “Let’s not keep standing around here, I’m freezing.”

Shouto willingly let’s himself get dragged inside with a dazed look on his face. Today must be a lot to take in, he supposes.

They pad trough traditional hallways together, occasionally greeting a person or two, until they reach his bedroom door. But before Izuku could open the door he’s interrupted by a cheery voice calling out to him, “Wait just a moment little prince!”

A look to the left confirms it’s Chrono, who’s carrying a small pile of papers in his arms. “I heard about your escapades from you father. How was your first day out?”

Leave it to his teacher to conveniently appear at the right moment, Izuku is convinced that the man has to have a quirk that allows him some form of clairvoyance.

“It was great, I even met a new friend, Shouto.” Izuku answers and he gestures towards his friend next to him. Chrono has that strange look on his face again, Izuku suspiciously narrows his eyes at the man, what was he planning now? Izuku was about to hurry things along, he is seriously freezing, when Chrono says, “A new member to our family, I see.” The words die in his throat. “Beware young Todoroki, stay here and you can never leave.” Chrono smiles ominously before suddenly just shifting back to his usual carefree self, “I’ll see you around little prince.”

Chrono then promptly turns and leaves. How strange.

Izuku turns to Shouto who looks similarly confused, “Don’t mind him, that was Chrono, my teacher, he’s just being weird again. Lets just go inside, okay.” Shouto just nods, looking rather strange himself. With all the weird things going on, Izuku almost wishes he had some type of psychic quirk himself, if not only to understand things better.

They had taken their time to properly dry themselves and change into clean clothes, he was glad Shouto and himself had somewhat the same sizes so that Shouto could get changed out of his dirty clothes as well. It wasn’t long before the sky outside turns dark and their stomachs grumble with hunger. 

Shouto trots after him towards the dinning room where they are met with the pleasant smell of pancakes.

“Papa! Are we eating pancakes for dinner today?” Izuku calls out.

A head comically peaks trough the doorway, “Your nose is as accurate as ever.” Hisashi smiles warmly at them, “Every child likes pancakes, right?”

Shouto blushes a little, “I- I don’t mind pancakes…”

Friendly sniggers are heard from the kitchen while Izuku and Shouto take a seat next to each other, Shouto has yet to leave his side today, Izuku leans towards the other boy’s ear to whisper almost conspiringly, “Papa is actually a really good cook you know. But he seems to have truly mastered the mystic art of baking the best pancakes. Don’t tell the person next to you.”

Never mind the fact that they were currently the only ones in the dining room, Shouto laughs quietly with him. Izuku is glad to have broken the ice a little.

After a while his papa walks in balancing a stack of plates in one hand and a plated stack of pancakes with the other with a strange sense of practised ease.

Papa takes seat across from them, “Enjoy your dinner.”

Both thank him for the food before digging in, almost literally, seeing that both of them are famished after such an innovating day.

Surprisingly it’s Shouto who speaks up first, he had been mostly quiet most of his time there, “Mister Midoriya,” his papa hums in acknowledgement, sipping his coffee, “I want to be Izuku’s left hand man.”

And he promptly chokes on it a little, not that Izuku is much better off himself. “I’m sorry?” “Shouto, what are you talking about?!” They both exclaim at the same time.

Shouto has the decency to look a bit sheepish.

“I have noticed that the people here are mostly villains. And I just thought… I’m very grateful that you all let me stay with you, I want to make myself useful while I’m here.” Shouto explains.

Papa raises an eyebrow, “That’s lovely to hear, but you do realise you’re a child right?”

 Shouto’s blush deepens. Papa gives a deep exasperated sigh, mumbling something about ‘stupid heroes’.

Izuku quickly decides to give his own five cents about the situation, “you don’t have to be anything but my friend you know.”

Shouto nods, looking no less determined than he was earlier. “Yes but I really want to do this.”

He supposes Shouto cannot be stopped if he really want something, but his papa just looks even more exasperated, “You’re just as bad as Izuku, it seems.” He grants that an totally dignified ‘hey!’ “But I won’t allow you to do any type of intensive training of any kind until you’re at least ten years old.”

Both open their mouths to argue but his papa apparently has none of that, “You’re children and you should go ahead and enjoy your childhood for as long as it lasts.” It’s rather pointless to argue, papa most certainly wasn’t going to budge.

Izuku smells a loophole however, “So mild quirk related training is allowed?”

Papa groans melodramatically as he pinches the bridge of his nose, “I’ve bred a monster.”

“That’s fair game, you’re quite the monster yourself papa.”

The rest of their evening was filled with happy banter and laughter, where even Shouto finds himself pulled into family shenanigans.

Chapter Text

Night comes quickly to the mountains during winter, but even when it’s dark the trees shine ethereally with freshly fallen snow.

Izuku has to tear his eyes away from the beautiful sight to crawl into his bed, the air being much too chilly for sightseeing. Still the shivers that have been creeping down his back the entire night seem to have nothing to do with the winter cold. He tries to ignore the strange uncomfortable feeling, rolling himself into a blanked pile to ward off the freezing air, it’s all to no avail however, the uncomfortable feeling persists.

A soft knock on the door wakes him from his thoughts, he turns to see his papa come in and smile slightly at his curled up form. He looks oddly worn, there are slight shadows below papa’s eyes that speak of sleepless nights. The sight of the strange smile on his face makes his stomach turn in knots and the shivers increase. Papa sits down on the edge of his bed next to him, carding a gentle hand trough his hair, as soon as he settles down properly Izuku frees himself from his blanket prison and hurries to hug him tightly.

Why does everything in him scream to not let his papa out of his sight?

“Izuku,” papa murmurs into his hair, his larger arms winding around him in return, “I have something important to do away from home.”

Izuku only hangs on tighter in unexplainable fear, he can’t let him go, can’t let him leave.

“Don’t leave papa, please stay…please…” he begs his papa to stay, hoping he’ll listen and stay home, at least for tonight. His hopes were sadly for naught.

“I wish I could but I can’t, it’s very important, something I cannot ignore any longer,” papa kisses his forehead as he gently squeezes his arms around him just a little tighter, “I’ll be back by morning, I promise.”

I took a massive amount of effort to let his papa go, but I the end he didn’t really have a choice. Izuku desperately blinks away his unbidden tears to reassure his papa that he is alright, he didn’t even know where his fears are coming from, for all he knows they are nothing but a morbid type of fantasy. Nothing to burden his papa with.

They bid their goodbyes, and no matter what Izuku tells himself, the door closing on his papa’s figure gives a strange sense of finality.

He doesn’t sleep that night.

Izuku gets up early the next morning, his anxiety not allowing him to stay curled up in bed, and readies himself for the day in the fastest way possible. His papa had promised to be back this morning and Izuku desperately wants to believe him.

Despite what he tells himself the cold, fearful shivers haven’t receded, instead they had come back with vengeance somewhere in the middle of the night and hadn’t faded since.

For once he curses the analytical mind he had inherited from his papa. Dozens of different scenarios rush trough his mind, but Izuku tries to ignore them. His papa is strong, he’s the most powerful person he knows, he won’t get hurt easily. What was there to be afraid of really?

He tells himself exactly that while he trots towards the dining room, but his fears are only being fed by the sight of the solemn faces of his papa’s subordinates. He franticly hurries his pace to get to his destination. ‘He’s safe, he’s strong, he’s fine, he’s probably just baking pancakes right now…’ Izuku mumbles to himself almost obsessively.

When he finally finds himself in front of the dining room door, he takes a moment to calm himself and put a smile on his face, before opening the door hoping to be greeted by his father.

To his alarm it was not his father that greeted him, but instead all he finds is an empty silence. Not only the dining room but also the kitchen is completely abandoned, not a sign of activity to be found. Izuku hurries out into the hallway, frantic to find at least some type of answer to quell his fears.

He gets none.

In fact, none of the henchmen he asks seem to be willing to talk, all look as sad and solemn as the other. “Don’t worry young Denka, everything is alright.” The responses only feed his distress.

Just when he was about to abandon hope, he bumps into a welcome change of company.

Shouto looks at him with obvious concern, something he’s been seeing for a while now, making him wonder if his distress is really as evident as it seems. “Are you okay?” His inquiry rouses him from his wandering mind, yet he cannot find it in himself to answer.

“Izuku?” A warm hand shakes his shoulder, he finds himself aware of the concerned glances all around him, but most of all he’s aware of the concerned gaze of his friend. Shame immediately fills him to the core, wasn’t he going to be their leader after his father? How could they put their faith into someone so clearly unstable?

Izuku quickly collects himself, wiping away the tears in his eyes. “I’m okay, don’t worry about me.” He adds his most assuring smile to convince Shouto he was honest.

It clearly didn’t work, his friend looks even more concerned now. The look in his eyes conveys a clear message; ‘I’m worried about you, please tell me what’s wrong’.

Izuku visibly wilts underneath Shouto’s worried gaze, the smile however, doesn’t leave his face, “I don’t want to talk about it here,” for his fathers henchman would without a doubt intervene, “Could we head to my room and talk there?”

Shouto nods almost immediately, there was no hesitation to be seen. The gesture warms Izuku’s heart, the sight of his ever earnest friend is an ever  comforting one.

The walk to his room was quiet, it almost reminds Izuku of several months ago, where Shouto had just started living with them, back then he had been so quiet too. He almost desperately wants to try to reassure his friend again, but somehow he just couldn’t bring himself to lie again.

Before long they sit on his bed face to face. Shouto patiently listens as he rambles about last night, about the morning, about how no one was there at breakfast, about how no one would tell him what’s going on.

“They just won’t answer me, I don’t understand what’s going on, I’m so worried something has happened to father and…” and he won’t see him again, “I don’t know what to do Shouto…”

Shouto is silent for another moment, before looking him straight in the eye, determination blazing in his heterochromatic eyes, “Let’s look for him together.”

Izuku looks up at his friend in surprise, Shouto straightened his back in way that vaguely reminds Izuku of the heroic figures he likes to read about, “I’m worried too, mister Midoriya was kind enough to open his home and family for someone like me-” Shouto hesitates for a moment, “Is there someone who may tell us what happened to your father?”

Izuku tries to search his chaotic mind for the answer, for someone they could trust, someone who would answer. Papa’s left hand man, Crimson, has been away for a while now, Spatiel is a definite no, Amuralde won’t answer either, which leaves them with either Chrono or Kurogiri. He shares his thoughts with Shouto who nods in agreement, “Let’s go look for them then.”

Thus their questioning changed from asking for his papa, to asking around for either Kurogiri or Chrono. Their new line of questioning books more results, the henchmen appear to be happy that Izuku wasn’t looking for his father anymore. The thought sends more waves of ice cold fear down his spine.

After a while of fruitless searching, the both of them decide they’ll cover more ground if they split up. Shouto searches outside, as he isn’t bothered by the winter cold, and Izuku searches inside, hoping to find either one in their usual spot in the library or, in Kurogiri’s case, tending to one thing or the other somewhere.

Neither are successful, as is apparent when they meet up about half an hour later. “Chrono is nowhere to be found, it seems that he has been on one of his ‘research missions’ since yesterday.” A suspicious coincidence, everyone is suddenly very secretive and, most of all, nowhere to be found at the same time that his papa has gone missing.

Izuku might be young, but let it not be said that he isn’t equally, if not more perceptive than he’s tenacious.

Shouto seems thoughtful, “Have you looked in the kitchen yet?”

The kitchen? “It was empty last time I looked…” But that was a while ago, it had been pretty early when he had last been there. “Do you want to look there?”

His friend nods, leave it to Shouto to be so refreshingly down to earth. Izuku is more grateful then ever to have a friend like him around.

Yet again the two of them find their way through the estate’s winding hallways, this time however with a destination in mind. The place is getting busier with the less early birds starting their day, the henchman move out of their way as they rush by, Izuku makes sure to thank them every time. Distantly he notes that no one comments on their hurry.

They arrive at the dining room soon enough and Izuku slams the door open with a force belied by his small stature. He vaguely hears Shouto pant to catch his breath behind him, he quickly buries the stab of guild to yell out for Kurogiri, praying that the mist shrouded man will answer.

He does, Kurogiri steps out from the kitchen looking alarmed at their sudden and loud arrival.

“Young master? Is everything alright?”

‘How could he ask such a thing at a time like this?’

His frayed patience started running short.

“No, no nothing’s alright, where’s father?!” He doesn’t even bother to lower his voice, all of his frustration and fear finally started boiling over. Kurogiri’s obvious hesitation to answer turns his ice cold veins into liquid fire, “Why won’t nobody answer me, what’s going on, tell me?!” Kurogiri visibly flinches back, but Izuku doesn’t relent, “Answer me!”

“Just answer me please…!”

His anger dissolves into poisonous anguish, quieting his voice.

“I just want to see papa, I just want to know if he’s alright…”

Somehow his quirk had activated at some point in time, the entire dining room is covered in large thorned vines and pitch black roses, the plant having heeded the call of his desperate anger.

The air in the room seems to have turned glacial.

A warm but trembling hand settles on his shoulder from behind for the second time that day, “Izuku?” The voice was barely a whisper but it might as well have been a scream.

Shouto, he had forgotten he was even there. He slowly turns to look at him, a bleeding cut on his cheek immediately catches his eye, but before he could even muster the time and energy to feel guilty Shouto envelopes him into a warm hug.

“It’s okay,” Shouto whispers, “Everything is okay…”

For a moment it is silent, hardly a breath could be heard. The tension in the air slowly fades to allow some warmth, the roses lower their thorns and gradually fade away, no longer needed.

“I’m sorry,” Izuku takes a deep breath, “I didn’t mean to lose control like that.”

“Young master, you have my most sincere apologies,” Kurogiri finally speaks up “I had not been aware that the situation was causing you so much anguish.” The sound of genuine remorse has Izuku look his way. The shrouded man is crouching near their eye level, his usually immaculate vest had some tears in them but luckily the man himself seems to be uninjured. Shouto fully lets go of him, allowing Izuku to properly turn towards him.

“Kurogiri, I…” Words die in his throat, he instead tries to fight the frustrated tears trying to claw their way out of his eyes.

The man is patient, waiting for him to collect his bearings before speaking again, “I’ll show you to where your father is.”

He almost gasps in surprise, “Really?”

“I don’t lie young master, most certainly not to you.” Kurogiri stands up, gesturing to the door, “if you’d please follow me.”

Izuku hurries to follow, and even though he doesn’t outwardly show it, he’s grateful to hear Shouto follow after him.

They leave the main building after Kurogiri made them wear warm coats to protect them from the falling snow, and to Izuku vague amusement, the man insisted that Shouto puts on a coat as well. He gladly takes every opportunity to distract himself from his growing anxiety.

The building they approach is also on the Mt. Yoshino estate’s ground, located just on the edge of the dense forest that borders his home. It’s a familiar building, the medical department, he had seen it before when he had gotten ill with the flu. Instead of the usual comfort he gets from the place he gets noting but a twisting stomach.

Izuku is greeted with the sight of the medical staff hurrying about, the halls appear busy with all sorts of people, from doctors to injured henchmen. His heart starts to beat faster, his lost sense of time making everything even more surreal and confusing.

Kurogiri hardly hesitated walking further ahead, his steps are as calm and collected as always. The hustle soon quiets down from a mere echo to complete silence. Izuku could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

They walked on for a short while, Shouto keeping close, his presence a comfort he desperately craves. All too soon Kurogiri stops in front of a large solid door standing ajar. He knocks uniformly, twice and firm, before pushing it open. He then moves to stand out of the way to allow him in, staying uncharacteristically silent.

Izuku hesitates for a moment, afraid of whatever may be on the other side, the almost mechanic autopilot he’d been working on is starting to fail. He hoped, prayed that it isn’t his papa that lays on the other side, that he was just visiting someone, that he was unbelievably busy, that he hadn’t had the time to leave yet.

They were unrealistic prayers, and he knew it.

On the other side of the threshold is a sight that makes his heart promptly stop beating.

Laying on a hospital bed, surrounded by large medical equipment he had never seen before, is his father.

Izuku rushes over, uncaring of the etiquette rules drilled into him to not run in hospitals, practically launching himself onto his bedside, and nobody stopped him for some reason, to desperately find signs of life in the motionless body of his father.

Almost motionless. To his relief he sees the slight raise and fall of his papa’s chest and the slight twitch of his large but always gentle hand.

With his confidence rekindled by the reassurance, he takes in his papa’s form, something he had learned from papa himself, to always think logically and assess the situation, with as little hesitation he could muster he examine his papa’s chest, he doesn’t feel confident enough to look up yet, and sees only white. His chest is covered in bandages with tubes of something indiscernible sticking out here and there.

Izuku takes a deep trembling breath, grasping his papa’s cold, too cold, hand to ground himself. And he looks up. The first thing that catches his eye is the thick bandage covering the right side of his papa’s face, hiding most of his forehead and the entirety of his eye all the way to his ear.

A head injury, a very bad head injury, he knows those are the worst.

Izuku feels his breath quicken, panic welling up inside him, crawling up his throat and out of his eyes in the form of tears burning like acid.

“Papa…” Izuku croaks, voice broken beyond recognition, “…Don’t leave me…Papa…”

The hand he is clutching gently grabs his own, the grip weak but it instantly calms his panic filled thoughts. He harshly wipes his tears with his sleeve to be able to see his papa’s face, a single hazy silvery green eye stares back at him. There are deep dark shadows underneath it, a sharp contrast to his ashen pale skin.

“Papa…Papa…”

“It’s okay Izuku,” papa’s voice is weak and scratchy, the sound both calms and scares him, “I’m here…”

Izuku can’t hold himself back any longer, he hugs his papa as tightly as he dares, still minding the several tubes sticking out of him. The hand he had been holding moments ago softly falls on his back a long time after.

He sobs senselessly into the pillow besides his papa’s head, the anguished tears he had been trying to stop since the previous night flow out of his eyes with no end in sight. Papa nuzzles him in return, though the movement is much too weak to be properly felt, Izuku basks in his presence for as much as he dares. Hungrily listening to his papa’s soft reassuring whispers.

“Why, why did you have to leave?”

Many thoughts gnaw on his mind, he has to know, has to know why today, why he would ever go when he knows something bad is going to happen. Izuku is almost desperate for answers.

“I’m sorry Izuku… I’m sorry…” Papa’s voice fades, the hand resting on his back slides off to land on the bed sheets with a dull thud.

To Izuku it might as well have been as loud as booming thunder. He flinches just as harshly, before freezing, not daring to move or the frail body of his papa would break into millions of tiny, miniscule pieces.

There is a soft breath right by his left ear, hardly a sigh, but present nonetheless. Papa had fallen asleep.

Izuku just breaks into pieces all over again, sobbing even more loudly than he had before.

“There had been a large battle, young man.”

Izuku distantly hears someone speak, but he couldn’t find an inch of will inside of him to look up and see where it is coming from nor the energy to recognise the one speaking.

“Sensei had gotten badly injured fighting off his nemesis, but he walked away victorious.” A small pause. “We should probably head back and let sir sleep in peace, he needs all the rest he can get.”

“What about Izuku?” Another familiar voice inquires, Izuku stubbornly summons the energy to grasp on his papa’s figure more tightly. He’s not going anywhere.

“I’m sure the young master would like to be left alone for now.”

“But…”

“Quell your concerns young man, we’ll return at a later time.”

A pause, soft footfalls give away that someone is approaches him. He tightens his grip even further.

“It’s okay Izuku, you can stay for how long as you want.” Izuku perks up slightly, Shouto?

“It’s okay because I’ll do whatever is necessary for no matter how long it takes, I’ll bring you everything you need.” A small hand briefly pats his shoulder, “So don’t you worry about a thing, I’ll take care of everything.”

Silence, followed by a near inaudible sigh. Soft footsteps slowly fade into the distance, but before they could leave Izuku whispers, “thank you, Shouto…”

There is some murmuring in the distance and before long a muted click tells him he’s finally left alone.

Izuku slowly fades into sleep with only papa’s comforting breaths and the faint humming of machines to keep him company.

His father and him have been almost inseparable since that ‘incident’, Izuku simply refusing to leave his side.

His papa lovingly accepted his fretting presence and comforted him as best as he could, despite his body frequently failing him in the process. Izuku never minded, always ready to wait patiently for him to wake up again from his forced slumber.

Their new routine continues smoothly for what feels like a long time.

Though his patience gets rewarded, as his papa becomes more active as time passes by, after just a couple of weeks he’s capable of staying awake for the entire day, helping him study and playing games, like chess or ‘go fish’ brought by Shouto during his frequent visits, with him. And most importantly, with a huge amount of effort he had even been able to sit up by his bedside for a short amount of time. Izuku is ecstatic about his swift recovery.

Yet the memory of his deplorable state is burned behind his eyelids, stalking him whenever he closes his eyes. No matter how often he’s reminded by not only his papa but also multiple doctors of all kinds, somehow it feels like his recovery just isn’t fast enough. He still sees his papa in great pain on a daily basis, it frustrates him that his once powerful father had been reduced to so much misery.

Papa himself however, isn’t as bothered by his injuries as Izuku had thought. Despite his pain he still smiles the same warm and alive way he always does. The gentle ruffles through his wild hair haven’t seized nor has his usual fatherly fretting.

The last one actually getting on Izuku’s nerves a little, how can’t he with his papa worrying over him whenever he coughs just a bit weird, when papa must be feeling quite horrid himself, the right half of his face still hidden by a thick layer of bandages.

But how can he remain angry? His papa is the same as always, he will get better, get stronger. So Izuku cannot remain idle himself. He had to get stronger too. Become the leader and guardian his family deserves, making sure that the weight of responsibility doesn’t simply rest on his injured papa’s shoulders alone.

If only he could be taller now.

Izuku stares at Chrono, the man is lean and most importantly, very tall. Though not as tall as his papa, of course. He’s pushing his fathers wheelchair through their extensive garden, the white lilies he had grown as practise some time ago still blooming.

The path they are walking on had been cleared of snow and ice briefly before they arrived, but the air is still bitter and cold. Yet Izuku doesn’t feel the cold at all. The frustration of the current situation kept his inner core burning.

He continues his glare steadily, why couldn’t he be tall enough to reach the wheelchair’s handles? A low chuckle breaks him from his mulling, they stop walking by a small pond to admire the fish still actively swimming about.

“Is there something bothering you Izuku?”

Izuku doesn’t even get the chance to answer, “I’m sure the little prince would have rather spend some more time alone with you, Sensei.” The man’s a snake in human disguise, really.

Papa turns to him, “Is that so?”

“N-no, I’m fine, honest.” To his embarrassment both the older men are looking at him with obvious mirth on their faces, the burning feeling on his face increases, he certainly must be red as a tomato now. “That’s not important right now. Wasn’t there something you wanted to talk about papa?”

To his surprise Chrono suddenly straightens in a weird, obvious way. His papa seems oddly solemn as well. The teasing mirth from just now had completely faded from the air. He unconsciously tenses a little himself, “Is this about the fight you were in?”

The tension doesn’t fade from the air, instead his papa heaves a great, stuttering sigh, his one visible eye shuts. Izuku instantly feels even more on edge.

“My, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree in this family, does it?” Papa gives Chrono a scathing glare over his shoulder, “Oh don’t worry, Sensei. I’m going to leave you two be, yell if you need anything.” With that he promptly leaves. Chrono lives in his own world, no doubt.

Yet the usual cryptic way of talking doesn’t deter Izuku’s focus whatsoever, all that matters is his papa currently seated in a wheelchair in front him. There’s a strange look on his pale than normal face. They had made sure to cover papa in blankets and quilts, careful not to pressure his body more then necessary, still he shivers a little, looking very real and alive. Papa seems cold, they shouldn’t stay outside for much longer…

Izuku franticly catalogues and analyses as much as possible to settle his frayed nerves, hoping that his papa will both start talking soon or not talk at all. The conflicting feeling confuses him greatly.

“Izuku, there’s something I should tell you.” He jumps slightly, not expecting his papa to speak up so soon. “About who I fought, about my quirk,” he looks him in the eye, “about yours.”

Izuku takes seat on the wooden bench close by his papa’s wheelchair, hoping that the shaking in his knees isn’t as obvious as it feels.

“I’m listening.” He says hesitantly, feeling a bit unsure about how to respond.

His papa is no less uneasy about their conversation, nevertheless he continues, voice steady and somehow very reassuring.

“I had a brother more then a few lifetimes ago, he was ill and frail, plagued by a horrible disease since birth.” Papa takes another shuddering breath, “I had made a great mistake…”

From there on, Izuku listens to his father talk. Telling him about the cruelty of the world in the past, on how those with quirks were hunted down and killed, that his uncle had been thought of as Quirkless. About his grandparents who never really loved his father, about how his uncle had been adored, kept oblivious about the harsh treatment of their parents to his older brother.

About how his father loved his uncle, how he had given him a quirk, in the hopes it would keep him alive, hoping that it would give him the strength to beat illness, to become the hero he dreamed to be when they were children. How he had deeply regretted his decisions, wishing he had been more honest with him. How the untimely loss of his younger brother haunted his dreams for the longest of times.

Izuku listens, committing every single detail to memory. Despite the nagging feeling that something important was being omitted from his tale.

“My brother wasn’t as Quirkless as I had originally suspected, he too had a quirk similar to our own, the ability to pass on Quirks trough DNA. The Quirk I gave him had been one of the energy stockpiling kind, it had fused with his original one, mutating into what is now called ‘One for All’…”

A reverse of their ‘All for One’ then.

His papa pauses, lightly placing the palm of his trembling hand on his covered eye, “… ‘One for All’ has been passes on for eight generations now, each time I hesitated for too long to erase it once and for all, I couldn’t bare the weight of losing that last piece of my brother as well. Now however, I know I cannot let the wielders of ‘One for All’ walk around any longer. They are a danger to you Izuku, I cannot bear the thought of them hurting you.”

Papa stayed quiet and despite already knowing the answer Izuku asks anyway, “The person who hurt you, was that the eighth wielder you were talking about?”

Papa seems to hesitate a little longer, but still he responds, “Yes, the eighth wielder of ‘One for All’ is someone you are familiar with; All Might.”

Somehow the statement doesn’t come as much of a surprise as he had expected. All Might’s quirk had been a mystery until now after all.

Yet, “have you defeated him?” The status of the number one hero doesn’t concern him much at all, his papa and family are much more important to him than any hero will ever be.

“Yes I have.” That’s a relief, but the uncertainty in his papa’s gaze tell him the relief is one sided. “But I have no reason to belief that ‘One for All’ is truly gone. I can still sense it, no matter how small and distant it is.”

Izuku grins, “That’s great!” Ignoring the surprise on his papa’s face he continues, “That means I can still bring it back!”

“Izuku…”

“No listen, part of uncle is still there with ‘One for All’ right?”

Papa reluctantly nods, “It is but…”

“Family is the most important thing in the world right?” Izuku gets up from his seat to climb on his papa’s covered lap, “I’d love to meet uncle one day.” He leans into the hand mussing up his snowy hair, “I want to make you happy too, papa.”

Finally, he hears a rasping chuckle, “Very well, if you persist. But you must promise me to always put yourself first.” Izuku grins widely in return.

“Don’t worry, I promise!”

The future, Izuku promises quietly to himself, will be a better one.

He’ll make sure of it.

Chapter Text

It’s another peaceful afternoon in the Midoriya household, the bright green leaves and the cheerful birds singing their love-songs speak of a gentle summer.

In Izuku’s opinion it’s the best time of the year to head out and enjoy what mother nature has to offer. With excitement filling his veins with energy, he basically bounces out of his room with sketchbook and drawing utensils in tow.

He is planning to head out to Dagobah beach in Musutafu, to draw the flora there, and to secretly figure out more about his mother. As he had managed to gleam from his father that they had once lived in the area. He keeps the last part of his personal mission a secret, knowing that his father would probably be reminded of painful memories should he ask. And honestly, knowing him he’d likely feel guilty about his son’s curiosity and set his own lasting grief aside for his sake.

Izuku pouts to himself, he’s older now and despite his father’s apparent insistence, he’s not made of glass. The possibility of his father’s fretting gives him all the more reason to figure things out on his own.

He jumps when a voice suddenly calls out to him from behind, “Where are you sneaking off to Izuku?” Lean arms wind around his shoulders as a chin comes to rest on top of his head.

Izuku stammers, “P-papa, what are you doing here?”

He could swear he was resting when he passed by, he usually wouldn’t even wake up for an earthquake, let stand his socked feet sneaking around.

His father hums good-naturedly, “Shouldn’t I be asking that?” As if Izuku is the one with a slowly healing cranial and spinal injury.

It couldn’t be that his father knows of his ulterior motive, right? In any case he shouldn’t let his nervousness show, papa is a bloodhound when it comes to emotions like that, especially when it’s about him.

It’s about time to set his primary motive of sneaking out in motion, he tilts his head up to look at his father, carefully avoiding the deep scar marring his visage.

There is a broad, yet gentle smile on his face, a shine of amusement in his peridot green eyes catches his attention. Father was just teasing him, the realisation has him relax further into his loose hold.

“I was just about to head out for Dagobah beach to draw some plants that grow there,” Izuku pauses a moment, “I’ll be back before dinner, promise.”

Father laughs a little, swinging the both of them left and right. “That’s nice, enjoy yourself then.”

Izuku breathes a mental sigh of relief, but his father wasn’t done talking yet, “Be careful while you’re there, as far as I know the place has fallen into despair and turned into a junkyard since the last time I visited.”

His tone of voice seems to have turned noticeably despondent. The state of the beach seems truly as bad as he had been told, his informants hadn’t been exaggerating when they mentioned the appalling state of the once beautiful beach.

The carelessness of certain people angers him sometimes.

“Don’t worry papa, I’ll take care of myself.”

His father lets go, giving him one last ruffle trough his hair as he speaks, “I shall take your word on that.”

Mission success, Izuku gives himself a mental pat on the shoulder for the resounding victory.

“Sure, I’ll be back soon!”

Still he takes off in a hurry, not wanting to risk his father changing his mind about not coming along. This time he’s going out on his own.

The travel to Musutafu had been fast enough, one gate from Kurogiri had done the trick. He originally wanted to travel by train, but sadly the trains leaving Nara hadn’t left their stations for as long as he could remember. Travelling had to be done either the old fashioned way, his personal favourite, or by a teleportation quirk of some kind, which is by far the fastest way of travel. Unfortunately he couldn’t afford to take the time getting there, nor could he take his time going home. Kurogiri would pick him up at 5.30pm at their designated meeting place.

Izuku hastens his pace towards the beach. He has a limited amount of time, he should spend it wisely. However when he gets there his plans are thrown out to the wind.

His view, though obstructed by monstrous piles of trash, is of someone carrying what looks like an old rotten chair on his back. He somehow find himself staring at the person for a while, his messenger bag filled with necessary art supplies dangles loosely on his shoulder. He most definitely wasn’t imagining things, whoever it was is most definitely trying his hardest to clean the neglected beach. The beach he was so certain had been completely forsaken.

Izuku couldn’t help but be marvelled at the sight.

Before he could bring himself to start moving again, he is noticed by the subject of his amazement. “Hey! You can come down here if you want, I don’t bite!”

The person, who seems to have a ludicrous amount of energy, beams up at him with a happy-go-lucky grin on his face. Izuku grins back, swiftly making his way down the stairs leading to the sandy beach.

“Are you cleaning this beach?”

Upon closer inspection the person is a boy slightly older than he is, with spiked-up blonde hair and funny cartoonish eyes. Somehow Izuku finds himself being reminded of someone. He briefly allows himself to take a look around, the trash piles are even bigger than he had first though, calling the beach a mess would be a serious understatement.

He quashes another unnecessary surge of anger in favour of the person in front of him.

“Yeah, it’s a lot of work, but someone has to do it!” The boy answers cheerfully.

“And you’re doing that all by yourself?” There is no one else to be seen, as far as he could tell.

“Sort of…” somehow the boy seems bashful, rubbing the back of his neck, “it doubles as training really.”

Training? Izuku grins wider, he could be an aspiring hero then.

Despite them being a thorn in his father’s side, he truly admires some of them. Their vivacious attitude is a great source of amusement and the way they use their quirks, the way they fight, are way too interesting to hate. This particular opinion is something he keeps secret from his family though.

They don’t have to know.

Izuku quickly makes up his mind; he wants to know who this person really is.

“I hope you don’t mind if I join you then.”

The awkwardness fades from the other and makes way for a silly grin, “Sure, all help is welcome! What’s your name?”

“You can call me Izuku.” He gives no last name, though it hardly seems to faze the other.

“I’m Togata Mirio,” Mirio shakes his hand, a western gesture but one he accepts nonetheless, “Nice to meet you!”

“It’s nice to meet you too.”

Without further ado, they begin their work after Izuku places his bag out of sight near the stairway. Suppressing his laughter is a chore when he feels Mirio’s flabbergasted stare bore into his back while he lifts something heavy-looking with ease. His stature has always been deceptively short and thin, many of his family’s new henchmen have learned that lesson the hard way. He always thoroughly enjoys surprising people with his strength.

“Whoa! That’s impressive, have you been training too Izuku?”

This time he finally allows himself to laugh, “I can’t let myself fall behind, can I?” He grins mischievously at the other, easily grabbing another pile of weighty metal objects to bring to the truck Mirio had pointed down to him earlier, “no shirking at work, Mirio!”

Apparently that was taken as a challenge, Mirio grins back and proceeds to hoist an entire rusted refrigerator on his back. “I wouldn’t dare!”

They were both exhausted by the time they decide to take a  break.

A good portion had already been cleaned up, but somehow it felt that the trash had managed to duplicate itself into even bigger piles.

Izuku sighs deeply, taking a seat down on the sand, he understands his father’s warning now, the trash could swallow one whole if they stared long enough.

Mirio plops down next to him unceremoniously, uncaring of the sand sticking to the back his sweaty t-shirt. “y’know, we should get something to drink, I’m parched…”

“You mean you haven’t brought anything to drink when you went out to train?”

“No, I was totally not thinking when I got here!”

Izuku bursts out laughing, Mirio is a riot, the blunt honesty reminds him of his first best friend. He and Shouto would have gotten along swimmingly, no doubt.

“Let’s not wait much longer then, I don’t know the area around here too well, do you have somewhere in mind?”

Mirio springs up, seemingly invigorated by some mystical cosmic energy, or something equally silly. Izuku snorts again to his private joke.

“I do, the place is quite near here, they serve milkshakes this time a year.”

“Wonderful, count me in then!”

The café indeed serves delicious milkshakes. Izuku decides right there and then that he doesn’t mind the strange turn his day has taken. His new acquaintance Mirio is uncharacteristically quiet while slurping at his drink. Somehow that simple action can still look like he’s having the time of his life, with the slightly over-exaggerated expression he’s making. Izuku has to fight the laugh trying to make it’s way out, laughing would likely end in an comedy worthy spit-take. Something the source of his amusement seated in front of him would bear the brunt of.

He still snorts in amusement though when Mirio finishes his drink in record time and pulls the silliest pleased expression he has ever seen. From the corner of his eyes he can see good-natured exasperation on one of the employee’s face. Could Mirio be a regular? It likely means he’s been training for a while already, but training for what exactly? Heroics is an extremely likely candidate, considering that everything about the person in front of him appears to be the picture definition of a hero. Yet he cannot judge, not all people want to be heroes after all.

Asking seems to be his best option, however he wouldn’t want to look like he’s interrogating the other. Somehow Izuku feels like he doesn’t even want to know the answer.

“…You okay there?”

He jolts out of his analysing mind, Mirio is staring at him rather puzzlingly.

“Sorry, did you say something?”

“I asked if you’re okay, I know their milkshakes are good but you’ve been sipping on an empty glass for a while now.”

Indeed, the glass is totally empty, the straw he had been sucking on was drawing in nothing but thin air. Izuku blushes a little, “oh…”

Luckily Mirio graces his clumsiness with nothing but a laugh. “Don’t worry about it, happens to me all the time,” somehow Izuku doubts that, “What were you thinking about though, to lose the world around you like that?”

Izuku promptly decides that he might as well take the plunge, “What exactly are you training for, cleaning an entire beach is kind of harsh isn’t it?”

“Aha, I’ve been waiting for you to ask that!” Wonderful, “What do you think?”

Izuku had seen that one coming really, “Heroics, right?”

“Ding-ding, you’re right!” his hands form two thumbs-up, “I guess I’m that predictable huh?”

“Yes, you are.” He responds bluntly.

Mirio freezes up in front of him. Had that been the wrong thing to say?

He hurries to correct himself, “How about you ask me about something then, since I’ve been asking you so many personal questions and such.”

He’s glad to hear the other laugh again, “that’s fair, I guess.”

Mirio proceeds to rub his chin like a wizened old man, Izuku snorts for umpteenth time that day, before perking up like an excited puppy. In the back of his head he hopes he hasn’t opened a hellish can of worms yet, but he shoves the thought away as soon as he feels it. He trusts himself to be able to speak himself out of a possibly troublesome situation.

“Why were you at the beach anyway?”

Oh right, he supposes it’s strange, there’s hardly any reason to visit the place and many more reasons to stay away. He can’t tell the whole reason however, he won’t ever risk his family in any shape or form, no matter what. His reasons were personal.

“My father had gotten badly injured some time ago, so I take care of him a lot.” What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right? “I found out that he had lived here in the area with my mother before she passed away, they had loved that beach.”

“Oh I’m sorry for your loss,” Mirio sobered up a lot, “I wouldn’t have asked if I had known.”

A strange response from an energetic, straightforward type, Izuku notes. Perhaps there’s more to the person in front of him that he first thought.

“That’s fine, it doesn’t bother me really.” The death of his mother is sad, but it doesn’t bother him in any level other than his father’s lingering grief, “Anyway, I came to the beach to see if I could visit again with him sometime soon.”

Also not a lie, scouting out the area so he could visit with his father later was his third motive for visiting, at this point he might as well forget the first and second one.

To his surprise, Mirio suddenly stands up with a determined look on his face, his chair makes a grating sound but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Let’s work together even harder then!” He announces pretty loudly, “Then you two can still visit soon!”

Honestly, how much more earnest can a person be? He can’t help but admire the other even more. Such inherent heroism is rare, something to be grateful of that it still exists.

Izuku hopes that it will survive.

Afterwards they talk for a bit more, but before long both bid their farewells with the promise to meet up the next day and work together to clean the beach again.

Izuku can honestly say he’s looking forward to it.

That evening Izuku told his father all about his day, excited to face tomorrow and head out again. Hisashi weathers all the energy with ease, simply happy to see his son so carefree and childlike. It became all to easy for the both of them to temporarily forget that their family wasn’t normal, that their path was paved with the carcasses of those who oppose them in the name of their home and future. Their world of equality and sacrifices, turned into an illusion of simplicity, but neither of them minded.

The next day Izuku heads out to the beach again through a hidden gate created by Kurogiri, but much earlier this time. Right after breakfast he leaves with the usual wishes from his father.

Nothing seems out of place to them at all.

Mother nature appears to be feeling generous as of late, the warm sunny weather being a true gift for his chosen activity, granting his body energy in abundance. Izuku reminds himself to give his gratitude at the shrine when he gets home.

A broad smile is already on his face by the time he arrives at Dagobah beach, yet it falls a little when he sees no trace of the energetic other.

Could he have lost sight of time? Or perhaps he was just busy with something else.

The former seems more likely than the latter, yet he doesn’t wish to wait for the other. He’s determined to restore the once beautiful place to it’s former glory, to be able to properly see the grand blue ocean and to see the smile appear on his father’s face, as soon as possible.

He places his bag at the same spot he used yesterday and folds the sleeves of the simple grey dress shirt he’s wearing, it’s time to get to work. However before he could even start with his self imposed mission of sorting the trash into manageable heaps he’s interrupted by a familiar voice calling out his name.

He swivels around, his grin already reappearing full force, and he’s met with the sight of Mirio running, or more like sprinting, his way with his signature grin on his face. He’s not alone, another person is limping their way, from his position he can see a lion’s mane of bright blonde hair and a tall, gaunt figure. In his opinion the strange man didn’t look like he should be walking around at all. Yet he chooses to temporarily ignore the stranger in favour of greeting the much more familiar other.

“Good morning Mirio, I was just about to start without you.”

Said Mirio laughs boisterously, not at all bothered by his straight-forward greeting, “Oh really, should I leave then?”

“No, you’d better stay now you’re here,” he admonishes cheerfully, “leaving a poor, average citizen to do all the work on his own, how un-heroic of you.”

The other is not at all impressed by his sarcasm, “You? Average? Since when is a ‘poor, average citizen’ capable of easily lifting an entire fridge all on their own without breaking a sweat?” He instead rewards his sarcasm with an equally sarcastic, yet still boisterous response.

Izuku is most definitely lucky meeting the other, Mirio is absolutely side-splitting to be around.

The strange man he had been ignoring clears his throat awkwardly, making both Mirio and himself look his way. He appears slightly out of breath and Izuku has to stop himself from making the other sit down somewhere, somehow he feels like the sentiment won’t be appreciated nor listened to.

The man appears to swallow something before he speaks, “Mirio, could you introduce me to your friend?” His voice is raspy, suggesting he has problems with his airways, yet he smells no nicotine in the air. Not a heavy smoker then. Though the man did look like an old drug addict.

“Right, I totally forgot.” Mirio lightly slaps his forehead in an playful exasperated gesture. “Izuku, this is A- no, this is Yagi Toshinori, my mentor. Yagi sensei, this is Izuku, just Izuku, he’s been helping me clear the beach. I told you about him yesterday.”

Izuku decides to ignore the slip of tongue, he has already put together who Toshinori really is. Father had been right with his suspicion of his nemesis survival.

When they meet eyes the other man’s slightly tanned complexion turns ashen, his mouth falls opens a little in an alarming expression of terror. Has he been recognized? He does take after his father a lot, he’s been told plenty of times already.

“It’s nice to meet you, mister Yagi.” Despite the risks, he greets the shivering man with a pleasant smile on his face.

One for All is nearly gone within the other, he has to strain his senses to notice the remaining spark of the once powerful quirk. The man is a husk of his former self and no longer a treat to his family. Izuku sees no reason to act on his knowledge of Yagi’s true identity, nor does he bear any grudge against him any longer, the former hero’s fate is already sealed.

Yagi visibly deflates at his warm greeting, clearly dismissing his fears. “Ah yes, it’s nice to meet you young Izuku.”

Secretly he’s glad the man’s fears have left, it would have been a shame if he had to… dispose of the possible threat after all.

Mirio would have never forgiven him.

Speaking of which, he turns his head to look towards the other, he appears to be none the wiser of what just occurred, or at least acts like he doesn’t.

“Hey, are we going to start or what? I have thought of a new strategy to our C.T.B.Q.F.I.F plan.”

“C.T.B.Q.F.I.F plan?”

“Clean The Beach Quickly For Izuku’s Father plan.”

“Right… Show me the way then.”

Again their productivity got interrupted, by Yagi this time, “Actually, I had something important to talk about with young Mirio, I sure hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh really? Go ahead, shoot.”

Yagi doesn’t say anything, looking like the textbook definition of awkward, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly to match. All of that was enough of a hint to Izuku, “Don’t worry, I’ll leave you two be, I had my own ways of furthering our C.T.B plan.”

He knows when he is unwelcome in an conversation, Yagi seems just too nice to say it out loud, so he decided to do the man a favour. He dismisses Mirio’s attempt to correct the ridiculously bad name for their ‘workout plan’ and calls out over his shoulder one last time as he leaves, “Don’t take too long!”

The fact that he respects Yagi’s wishes doesn’t mean that he won’t listen in on their conversation. His family comes first, no matter what. And in this world knowledge is power.

He cannot see their faces or their reactions but he can hear their voices with the assistance of a quirk. The wind relies all the words spoken with perfect clarity, keeping no secrets.

Mother nature is truly on his side today.

“Mirio my boy, have you thought about my request yet?”

“I have, trust me. I’m just not sure I’m the perfect candidate for that… I mean, how do you know I’m the one you’re looking for?”

“You posses all the qualities I could possibly wish for, even my ex-sidekick recommended you as a proper successor.”

“I don’t really know what to think- I’m honoured really- but I just feel like it wasn’t me who’s supposed to inherit your legacy.”

…

“I can’t force you into anything, I wouldn’t even dare to.”

“All Might- ”

“- But understand that out of all people I’ve met, you’re the one I’ve peaked as most worthy.”

“… All right, I accept.”

“W-what?! So suddenly?”

“If you mean it than I don’t mind.”

“Mirio my boy… very well! I’ll adjust your training plan right away…”

Izuku has heard enough.

He knows exactly what just happened, what they were talking about. Despite them not mentioning the name once. Recovering One for All just came closer then ever. The grin on his face turned even happier.

He can hardly wait!

Later they meet up again, Izuku is careful not to let his glee show too obviously, luckily both Yagi and Mirio seem to be too occupied to pay too much notice to his mood. Yet he’s still careful not to wake up any sleeping wolves.

They return to their task, or as Mirio insists on calling it; their newly dubbed C.T.B plan, with no questions asked. Yagi occasionally giving them advise on improving their hold or stance, better yet he tries to, but it’s rather awkward and he often fumbles for the right words. Izuku thinks it’s rather adorable to see such a tall imposing figure act like a nervous school-girl. If only his family could see the man right now, they wouldn’t believe their eyes!

Their new routine lasts a few weeks. Wherein they meet every day of the week, start early in the morning and finish somewhere in the late afternoon. Every day Izuku leaves slightly earlier to be home before dinner, neither his companions ever ask for his reasons why, just wishing him to take care on his way home.

Time passes quickly, hours fly by as the white sand of the beach becomes visible from underneath layers upon layers of cleared trash. Each centimetre cleared feeling like another victory.

Before long they stand there together, the three of them, staring off into a clear horizon, and Izuku truly understands why his parents used to love this beach so much. The sight of the endless expanse of sparkling blue ocean is awe-inspiring. Somehow he feels just slightly enlightened on another piece of his father’s and mother’s past.

If only moments like this could last forever.

Still he cannot stop the cheer from erupting from himself, the sudden bout of laughter bursting fort startles his company, yet they join him in his joy soon after.

“Thank you…” Izuku says, the grin of joy is still clear on his face.

“For what, I didn’t do all the work myself you know, you did a lot yourself.”

“Maybe. But somehow I feel like I wouldn’t have hadn’t you been doing so before me all those weeks ago.”

Mirio rubs his neck, his face looks slightly red from what he assumes is embarrassment.

“You give me too much credit-”

“-No, just let me thank you and accept my gratitude.”

The former hero behind them finally speaks up, “Let this be a reminder then, that hard work get’s rewarded!”

It’s a good thing he finally managed to say something inspiring, he supposes, otherwise the man’s hero persona might have become a bit too much of a lie.

“Really, thank you…”

Izuku isn’t sure what’s he’s thanking them for anymore, whether it’s for finally clearing the beach or for giving him the opportunity to meet them this way. Nevertheless both Yagi and Mirio smile back at him.

Yes, if only peaceful times like this could last forever.

He didn’t mind getting up early every morning, yet when he finally gets the chance to sleep in, he takes it with almost greedy hands.

To his minor surprise it’s his father who wakes him that morning. The sight through sleepy eyes is a nostalgic and welcome one, but not rare. His father always takes every chance he could get to do the things they did before he got injured, to return to a bit of normalcy.

Izuku smiles at him, “Good morning.”

“Good morning, sleepy head.” Father kisses his forehead, groaning a little as he gets up from his bowed position. Izuku giggles as he vaguely hears him complain that he’s getting old.

“You’re not old, you’re injured. There’s a difference.”

“I’m flattered you think of me as young Izuku. Now be sure to dress well today, there’s a meeting this afternoon.”

Father patiently waits for his to respond with the customary drowsy ‘yes, papa’ before he leaves, “Shouto is also there for breakfast!” father says just before he disappears from view behind the door.

That really wakes him up, he hasn’t properly seen his friend for while now. Shouto having been busy with training and he himself occupied by his daily travels to clear the beach.

He couldn’t wait to tell his family all about the great time he had and more importantly, to take his father to the beach he hasn’t been to for such a long time. But first the mystery meeting and breakfast with Shouto.

He buttons his white vest and properly straightens his dark green dress shirt with a mischievous grin on his face, he’s going to enjoy sneaking up on his friend. His responses are without fail pure gold!

That early afternoon father, Shouto, and himself have moved towards the living room to spend some time together. Izuku is partially hanging over his fathers shoulder to occasionally help him as he’s looking trough some papers. His father’s injuries have left him half-blind and badly near-sighted through the left eye, reading for a long time has become a struggle sometimes.

Shouto has draped himself over the armchair across the table. He is reading some papers himself, but seemingly more out of curiosity then obligation.

“What have you been up to lately, Izuku?” His father asks, apparently giving up filing the papers and is rubbing his blind left eye a little. He’s likely trying to ward off a upcoming headache by seeking some type of distraction. Izuku is happy to help.

“I’m glad you asked…” He happily tells them about his time at the beach, about his company, about the delicious milkshakes and about the beautiful sight of the clear water reaching into the horizon.

“One of them was a heroics student going to UA.”

“Oh really, you must have had the time of your life then.” His father is very aware of how much he likes heroes, despite his efforts to keep it a secret. It’s likely the reason All Might got to survive. The warm open mood allows him to freely ramble about all the things he wants to, his father would occasionally give sarcastic remarks or tell him to slow down.

But somehow the one person he would like to hear more from kept oddly silent, only responding when he directly spoken to.

“Shouto are you alright?” Izuku asks but Shouto doesn’t look up.

“I’m fine.”

“When you’re pulling blatant lies like that, you should at least try to make them convincing.” Says his father, his tone is not as dry and sarcastic as one would expect from the feared, ‘stone cold lord of the underground’. His commentary finally has Shouto look up from the report he’d been staring at for the last half an hour, the look on his face is kept carefully blank.

But not blank enough, Izuku has lived with people like Crimson or Amuralde for too long not to notice the slight shadows underneath his eyes and the minor frown furrowing his brows, both give him a slightly haggard impression.

“He’s right Shouto,” Izuku adds, “You’re clearly not alright. What’s wrong?”

“I can’t… I can’t tell you, I’m sorry.”

They didn’t get the chance to interrogate him further, Spatiel enters the room in her usual ‘loud’ way. The door rattles a little from the force she used to throw it open.

“Hey peppermint, get up! You wanted extra practise, you work for it!” Her voice is as loud and powerful as everything else about her. Shouto wastes no time standing up and leaving the room, he hurries out so fast that even Spatiel herself stares after him in vague astonishment.

“What’s up with that kid?”

“If any of us find out, we’ll tell you.” Answers his father.

“I take you won’t be at the meeting then.”

“Right, little peppermint insisted on extra training. ‘Wonder who he takes after.”

“Do you know more?” Asks Izuku, hoping that perhaps Spatiel will clarify what’s going on. His hopes are dashed when Spatiel gives him nothing but a smirk, “All I know is that the kid trains like there’s no tomorrow.” She glances towards him, “and just so you know, you’re not escaping training either, little prince.”

Spatiel leaves the room throwing the door closed behind her yet again.

Izuku can’t help but think it’s a good thing that all the doors in the main building are re-enforced. He looks back up to his father, who’s slightly misty eyes are still pointed towards the door. However it doesn’t take long for him to notice that he’s being looked at, he turns towards him, “Well then, Izuku, let’s not loiter around and head out towards the main halls ourselves. God forbid someone breaks that door while we’re waiting here.”

The main hall of the Midoriya estate is a large, open room that gives an intimidating  impression. It’s main purpose being meetings, of all types and sizes, like the one they’re holding right at that moment.

It’s a relatively small group of their people, the small time villains stand in the back and heading towards the front are the more important figures, from the more powerful villains to leaders of other families. Despite all their differences Izuku cares for all of them equally. No matter who they are or where they are from, they’re all family to him.

Not everyone is present, the spots where some of the other family patriarchs would stand are empty, and the folk of villains in the back is relatively thin. Yet the atmosphere is not rigid, but more warm and welcome. Familiar to Izuku, he felt no need to keep up any type of image and had carelessly draped himself over his father’s shoulder again.

A lower ranking villain, named ‘Night Edge’, steps forward and kneels in front of them.

“Heika, Denka. I have more data on the situation of our adversaries.”

Izuku feels his father settle against him, his head leaning on top of his own.

“Very well, speak.”

The villain raises his head towards them as he speaks, “Yes Heika. It appears that despite our efforts the rate of the raising numbers in heroics keeps increasing. The classes of most heroics schools have every chair filled, many have promising quirks and abilities.” He pauses for a moment, when it’s apparent that none have any input on the situation he continues. “As for the situation with the new number one hero ‘Endeavour’, he has been raising in popularity polls among the citizens, and his actual rate of success is much higher then originally anticipated. But his cooperation with fellow heroes is deplorable, and his popularity within his own ranks has been dying down since his raise in position. It appears that the forced ‘promotion’ caused a lot of anger.”

Night Edge bows his head respectfully, but it doesn’t hide the slight smirk tugging on the corners of his mouth, nor does it hide the tone in which he speaks, “That is all, Heika.”

Izuku glances up at his father, there’s similar but much clearer show of amusement on his face. The sharp smile on his face somehow manages to hide what he could possibly be thinking about. The fact doesn’t bother Izuku as much as it probably should.

“Thank you, you may leave.”

As Night Edge leaves, Chrono speaks up, “What actions shall we take next, Sensei?”

“For now, we shall leave them be. We will deal with them soon.”

“Yes, sir.” Says Chrono, he adds his own flair of playful drama as he swoops down into bow.

Izuku just hugs his father closer, “Really? I can’t wait to see to new ones, their quirks are always so impressive to see!”

Father chuckles a little, ruffling his hair, “Yes, but have patience Izuku. I promise you it’ll be worth it.”

The rest of the meeting passed without incident. Throughout the entire meeting Izuku couldn’t help the grin on his face. The meeting was nothing but good news after all.

He’s certain, soon his family will have the peace and safety they deserve, and if he can admire new heroes in the process then it’s all the better.

Chapter Text

The moon that night seems almost mocking. Glaring white light creating a façade of peace, tranquillity. But he knows that’s a lie.

The many scratches on his body sting painfully but he never stops running. That damned moon is giving away his presence, whispering every secret to that… that monster.

Breaths begin to freeze within his lungs, yet there’s a strange burn all over his skin. His legs begin to fail, his head spins but he cannot, won’t stop running.

Calm footsteps behind him, a flash of green in the corner of his eyes when he dares to look back, click, click… click.

Was he even running? Why couldn’t he distance himself from his pursuer?

He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think and it’s that goddamned moon’s fault.

Glaring light and a lot of noise, but it was quiet wasn’t it?

Click, click…

A shadow bows over him, his eyes meet solid ruby and an emotionless placid face. No remorse, no regret. Everything falls silent. He opens his mouth, to curse at the demon, to beg for mercy, to gasp for breath. But he makes no sound, he’s silent like everything else, his heart pounds in his chest like a frantic animal. Get up, run, escape, move!

“I found you.”

Only one thing runs trough his mind,

“Traitor.”

Forgive me please! Heika…!

The first thing to greet him when he wakes is the sweet songs of cinnamon sparrows, an early visitor, and the soft warm glow of the early afternoon sun on his skin.

Izuku stretches languidly, brushing some of the leaves that got stuck in his hair loose. He had fallen asleep again. It’s not too surprising, with the pleasant weather and the gentle breeze rustling the lush green canopy of trees. Mother nature had lulled him straight to sleep.

Yet, despite the comfortable weather, he couldn’t keep lolling around. Once he cleared his head he quickly searches around for the basked he took with him. Luckily it is still next to him, last time he fell asleep it had been stolen by some playful squirrels, it took him hours of chasing to get it back. Though he gave them some of the imported hazel nuts as apologies later. The memory puts a smile on his face.

He gathers himself and the basket to resume his personal mission on gathering some herbs for tea, a request he had gotten from his father. The sense of peace remains as he lets the whispers of the forest guide his way.

His smile fades however when he hears just what the forest is gossiping about, the wind whispering with spite and promise of vengeance. Their voices have no sound, they speak with emotion and sensation. But he has learned their language, it is easy for him to understand what they're talking about.

“Have you heard?”

“The traitor…”

“The treachery…”

“Vanquished, the treat is no more…”

“Such a shame, the loss of another comrade.”

Ah, yes. He knows exactly what they are speaking of. Despite the anger that comes with betrayal he laments the loss of another life. Death should always be mourned, to make sure that no life is taken without reason, to ensure that one remains aware that it should never be taken for granted. Every life has purpose.

Father always seems odd whenever he speaks with him about it, his entire family seems odd about it. Izuku finds that despite knowing a lot about his father’s past, there is a still plenty that remains obscured and left to be forgotten. Knowing there has to be a reason for the secrecy, he feels too apprehensive to even try asking for more.

Izuku shakes his head. There’s no need to grow philosophical at a time like this.

He grips the handle of the woven basked just a little tighter then necessary and takes a deep breath. With renewed sense of purpose he throws himself back at his previous task, gathering herbs. Which somehow comes easier then expected, he finds the planted patch of lavender soon enough, the small field of mint nearby.

Too easy somehow.

But he knows better then to complain, especially when there is nothing to really complain about.

“Maybe I could pick some mushrooms as well?” Izuku says out loud to no one in particular, carefully cutting off some of the lavender plants, “or maybe it’s too early for that…”

There are mushrooms sure, everywhere, most being obviously poisonous and unpleasant to pick. Leaving them to mature makes them more effective, perhaps he should just leave them for later. Ah but he forgot to bring his notebook to note down where they grow, actually he forgot everything except his herbal knife and basket. How clumsy.

“Are you having fun Izuku?”

Two familiar strong arms wind their way around his shoulders from behind, surprising him but also giving a sense of nostalgia. Izuku is proud to say that his heart only skipped a beat once.

“How did you find me this time?” Izuku asks, feeling just a bit breathless.

A chin rests on top of his head, he can clearly feel his father’s chest vibrate as he chuckles, “my eyesight might be terrible but my hearing is unrivalled, I heard you mumbling away and just couldn’t help dropping in.”

Of course he couldn’t. Izuku can feel his ears burn with embarrassment from being caught mumbling again. It’s a bad habit he should probably get rid of soon, lest someone less pleasant than his father will ‘drop in’ on him. Father doesn’t give him the chance to regret his bad habits thoroughly though, he hugs him a little bit tighter and nuzzles his hair in his usual strange affectionate way, one that comically reminds him of a mother cat he had seen once.

“It’s fine Izuku, having bad habits is part of one’s childhood. I always scared my brother to bits by sneaking up on him without warning.”

Izuku isn’t sure if that’s meant to reassure him or not. His father still sneaks up on people without warning, an admittedly impressive feat considering his tall, lean stature and considerably powerful presence. Nonetheless, Izuku clings onto anything remotely humanizing about his father, to counteract the large amount of things strange and inhuman.

“Izuku, you rambling again.”

“Oops, sorry! Did I say all of that out loud?”

“Loud enough for me to say that I am proud to be considered an inhuman creeper.”

“You’re not a creeper papa.” He manages to say, he’s pretty sure he looks like a human tomato now, both from embarrassment and laughter.

“A demon then-”

“Not a demon either-!”

“You are not leaving me with many options then.” Or maybe a demon was a legitimate description after all. “Anyhow, I was actually looking for you, you’re late for lunch.”

“Oh, I must have overslept then…”

Father lets go of him, finally giving Izuku the chance to properly look at him. He’s kneeling on the forest ground behind him, not at all minding the raised roots that had to be digging into his knees uncomfortably. Izuku cannot help but smile at him, glad to see him move around more freely again.

His smile fades however when he sees his father grimace a little, his back locking itself in place, while he gets up. Both signs are nearly imperceptible, but Izuku knows his father well enough to know something’s wrong. “Say, papa, are you really okay?” he asks, though he doesn’t actually expect an honest answer.

“Yes, of course I am.” He was right. “But that’s not important right now, what’s important is that we’re late for lunch and that Spatiel will most definitely not wait for you to finish up before your training this afternoon.”

Oh no, he totally forgot about that. Izuku can feel himself pale a little at the thought of Spatiel wrath if he doesn’t get back in time. She is without a doubt the most terrifying women he knows.

“What are we waiting for then, let’s go already!” He yells over his shoulder, already hurrying back towards home.

Father doesn’t seems hurried at all, in fact; he keeps walking at his own pace all the while grinning a little mischievously. Izuku will let him off the hook this time.

Lunch passed way too quickly in his opinion, he had barely tasted his rice as he gobbled down his food as fast as he could without his father reprimanding him. Not that he would, father was too busy looking awfully smug the entire time to scold him for bad table manners, but that didn’t stop Kurogiri from admonishing both of them.

Izuku changed into his training gear in record speed, glad that he choose to wear a simple shirt that day, changing out of his usual attire would have been a nightmare, because of all the buttons and what-not’s. But he takes the time to look in mirror to see if nothing is out of place, for Spatiel has no mercy, even when it’s just his clothing. He’s proud to say that even though he hurried, his training garb is donned correctly.

Not that it’s anything too complicating to put on, his ‘uniform’ consisted of a simple black sleeveless turtleneck and similarly coloured sweatpants, training is done barefoot with as little extra equipment as possible. One cannot always depend on those.

Without further ado he rushes towards the training hall, quickly greeting some henchmen on the way there but never slowing down. Izuku pretty much slams the door open, only to be forced to flip backwards to evade the blade that almost beheaded him.

“Nice dodge, little sprout!” says Spatiel, she too is dressed in simple clothing, looking terribly out of place resting a giant broadsword on her shoulder.

The sharp, broad grin on her face has Izuku shiver a little, but he quickly calms himself to stop any outward signs of nerves. Show no signs of weakness in front of a predator.

“Why do you always have to do that?” He asks, patting none existent dust of he knees to appear nonchalant.

“Ha! Training starts as soon as you open the door, and you know that Izuku.”

Of course he knows, it’s impossible not to. The powerful women has been training him in self defence and quirk usage since he turned ten, just as promised.

“Now are you getting in or not? I want to get started already.”

“Yes, Spatiel.”

She ruffles his hair as he passes by. For those who don’t know her, the gesture would seem out of place, but Izuku knows that even though Spatiel is all rough and tough, the women loves their family as much as he does. There is a gentle core to the second most feared person in their family. She wouldn’t have attacked if she hadn’t been certain he would dodge.

Yet her evident aunt-like affection for him does not make his training any easier.

In fact, she might be even harsher.

Such is apparent when they start, as soon as they begin Izuku is forced to take the defensive and dodge. The giant broadsword is not just for show after all. It’s terrifying weight is proven as the enforced wood floor cracks underneath it’s weight. It’s only a training weapon, but already it’s size and weight in combination with over two centuries of experience is a force to be reckoned with.

Before long they fall into a dance of attack, dodge, twist, step, parry and hit.

Izuku doesn’t hesitate to call onto his favourite quirk, veins of Hedera pulls the sword from her hands while strong branches of black ironwood pushes her back. His victory is short as the moment the sword leaves her hands he’s forced to block a powerful punch. The wood he had hurried to call splinters underneath the force of the hit.

The breath is knocked out of his lungs as he hits the floor with overwhelming force. He’s left with no fighting chance, exhausted from their spar and the plants he called don’t have enough energy to be summoned for long, his arms and legs are hardly willing to move.

“I… yield…you win…” Izuku managed to gasp out.

“That was a nice fight you put up there little prince, but your timing and endurance needs work.” Spatiel says while she reaches out a hand to help him up. Izuku gladly takes it, his tired sheepish grin doesn’t give away the quiet astonishment at her casual display of strength when she hauls him upright with ease.

He’s handed a bottle of fresh cold water when they finally take a break, a generous blessing considering who his trainer is, but yet again not a surprising one. He knows better then to comment on it though. Never underestimate the wrath of someone who could throw you out the window without lifting a finger.

Spatiel takes seat on the floor next to him, or more accurately; crudely plops down next to him uncaring of any pretence, taking a long gulp from her own bottle of water.

Both of their refreshments, he notes, are seemingly conjured out of nowhere.

Her quirk, that allows her almost free manipulation of the fabric of space, is awfully convenient most of the time. Except when it comes to her rather vicious temper and keeping property, and most of all, people in one piece. Izuku always reminds himself to be really grateful for Kurogiri’s much more gentle warp gate quirk and overall personality.

It’s never a fun thought to get teleported by a spatial force akin to a black hole, vicious enough to rip you to pieces.

Not wanting to dwell on ‘that’ any more then necessary he takes a large gulp of water himself as well. Hoping vigilantly that the red on his face from exertion will mask the sudden blanching his face would have done.

“Hey, squirt, are you doing okay there? That’s a funny expression you’re pulling there.”

Izuku jumps a little, but is quick to recover and respond, “Ah no, I’m fine. I was just thinking…” Spatiel snorts.

“You’re just like your dad. It won’t kill you to analyse things less you know.” Her hand roughly tussles his hair, a teasing grin on her face. “But then again, the apple never falls far from the tree in this family, does it?”

‘This family’, even though he’s not even blood related to any of them except his father, the phrasing warms his heart a little. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard that one before.”

There is a rare moment of silence, her hand falls away. It gives Izuku the chance to glance up at Spatiel to get a clue to the sudden quiet, but he’s only met with a strange, unreadable look on her face. She snaps out of it quickly though, fast enough to stop him from getting worried, her grin returns full force as if nothing happened.

“You know of that UA school, right? The one with all those hopeful brats.” Spatiel suddenly asks. Her brief and vague description is oddly unnecessary, it’s only logical he knows what UA is.

“Yes I do, why?” She stares him straight in the eye for a moment.

“I heard you’re quite interested in the place.”       

Izuku blinks in bewilderment, is Spatiel worried? About such an odd, trivial matter of all things?

“I am,” he hurries to answer not wanting to have her wait any longer, “because it’s a very interesting place. I’m curious because many children my age go there and train with their quirks.”

He’s shocked to see that, despite his efforts to reassure her, her bi-coloured eyes turn slightly despondent. A slight change; but he, trained to see minute changes in a persons mood since he was little, notices it immediately. Had he misread the source of her concern?

“There you go again, analysing things.” Spatiel says, but doesn’t give him the chance to apologise, “I’m not that dense you know, I can tell what other people are thinking, especially little squirts like you.”

Izuku doesn’t take her way for speech as an insult. He’s too busy being flabbergasted by his lack of understanding on the situation.

Spatiel leans backwards, resting the back of her head against the way, her eyes never leave him. Her smile lessens a little.

“Do you wish you could go there, to UA?”

Huh?

Izuku is sure he must have looked quite stupid for a moment there, but he just couldn’t understand what his surrogate aunt was hinting at. Him, going to UA?

There is no use to crying over spilt milk.

“No, not really.” He mimics Spatiel and leans back to relax as well. “It’s an interesting school, but I’m not interested in going there. I’m happy right here, with my family.”

Izuku grins, “Besides, Chrono isn’t that bad of a teacher.”

Spatiel snorts out loud, chuckling sardonically, “Ha! Don’t let him hear that, it’ll bloat his ego.”

“More then yours?”

Spatiel hits him lightly with her empty water bottle, “Watch it, kid. I’ll add to you training regimen.”

He gasps dramatically, grasping his chest in mock horror, “No! Anything but that, I won’t survive!”

Izuku quickly stands to avoid another hit. He stares a Spatiel for a moment, glad to see that the weariness previously present has faded. He takes that as a sign to safely change the subject to something he’s been dying to ask for a while already.

“Do you know what’s going on with Shouto? He’s been acting strange lately, I’m really worried.” Izuku asks, watching Spatiel take position herself as well. He adjusts his position and stance accordingly, it appears they’re also practising Aikido today.

“Can’t answer that Izuku. If you really want to know, you got to interrogate peppermint yourself.”

Oh darn, he probably should have seen that coming, with ‘student confidentiality’ and such. That doesn’t stop him from pouting as he hits the floor yet again that afternoon.

He’s going to be bruised and sore tomorrow.

Izuku hates when he’s right in situations like these. He shifts a little in his spot.

Ironically he waiting in front of the exact same place that’s been causing his family so much trouble, UA high. But he’s not there for any type of vengeance or something equally cliché. In contrary, he’s waiting for his new acquaintance turned friend.

He doesn’t have to wait long, a familiar voice calling out his name has him turn to see the equally familiar figure run his way.

“Did I make you wait?” Mirio asks, looking not at all winded from his impromptu sprint towards him. In fact he’s as cheery and energetic as the last time he’d seen him.

The two of them held contact a little, Izuku insisted they should meet again so that he could hear of his first school day. Keep all sources of information open at all times.

“No not at all, but I’m raring to go already.” The most important detail of their meeting however is most definitely their destination.

“The café nearby, right?” Mirio asks.

“Yes, now let’s go. It’s your treat.”

“My treat?!”

Izuku smirks, “Your treat. You made me wait after all.”

Mirio slumps dramatically, feigning a defeated look. “All right! Even though I didn’t have a choice, as upperclassmen I have the heroic responsibility to inspire the freshmen to work hard for their future, by working just the extra half an hour!”

His grin never leaves his face, all the way through his dramatic speech. Izuku isn’t fooled, he laughs joyfully at his new friend’s antics. Hopefully all heroes are as amusing as the one walking next to him. He wouldn’t mind meeting them if they are.

The café is a cosy place, giving a warm European impression when you walk in.

Izuku loves it and Mirio looks obviously satisfied with his accomplishment at making him smile.

His mood improved even more when he’s greeted by a vaguely familiar voice, “G-good afternoon, Denka!” One could assume the woman’s stutter is from nervousness or fear, but the wide grin on her face tells a whole other tale. “How may I serve you?”

The woman, who’s name as he just recalled is Anna, bows respectfully not minding the presence of the obvious UA student besides him. Izuku spares a quick glance his way. He doesn’t look suspicious, in matter of fact, he has a amazed look on his face. But for some reason he chooses to remain quiet.

He returns his attention back towards Anna, “Could you help us find a nice seat please?”

“Y-yes! Of course, just a moment.” Her response is immediate, just like the prompt slump of her shoulders. The poor woman probably expected him to act angry, haughty or anything along those lines, not an uncommon expectation among their rapidly increasing numbers.

Soon they are guided towards a table nearby the entrance. After looking through the menu and giving their orders, a cup of latte, a large cappuccino and most importantly two slices of chocolate cake, they are left be. Izuku hardly had the chance to blink before Mirio’s very  expected questioning starts.

“‘Denka’? Why did she call you that? Are you from a noble family? How does she know you? Never mind that, why did a bunch of the waiters and waitresses here know you? Did-”

“-Whoa, remember to breath please, I can only answer one question at a time.”

Mirio takes a deep breath, and expertly summaries his previous questioning; “Is there something important I should know about?” As expected of a future hero.

“Nope!” But he is obviously not studying to become a detective. The blond stares at him expectantly, not at all fazed by his blunt deflection, though unease started to show in the form of fidgeting hands as Izuku simply stared back.

He decides to take mercy on his poor new friend. “It’s nothing important really. The waitress, Anna, works for my father. It’s a silly tradition in my family to call my father and I by such ridiculously high titles.” The words come with deceptively honest ease, he will never regret the extra time taken to build up a proper background story for situations just like these.

The life of a villain is tough.

Mirio buys it completely. His signature grin, nearly rivalling All Might in intensity, returns full force. “That’s kind of cute.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Izuku happily smiles back.

Shortly after their order arrives, the sweet smell of coffee and cake greet him like a long lost friend. Izuku gladly takes the opportunity to change the subject into something less risky.

“How had school been?” Izuku inquires as he sips from his hot coffee.

“School has been great, I still have the same classmates as last year, and the teachers are just as great as before.” He leans forward to whisper conspiringly, “I heard the first years started their first day with a physical assessment test instead of the usual introduction, Eraserhead truly is scary.”

“oh really?”

“Yeah! But even stranger, no one got expelled this year around. Usually more then halve, if not the entire first year class is expelled before the second day begins.”

Oho? That is indeed strange. According to the rumours going around, Eraserhead is a notoriously stern teacher, giving no lenience to anyone daring to slack off or relax even the slightest. For him to not expel even a single student…

Izuku hides his grin behind his coffee cup, “How… exiting.”

“I know right, I can’t wait to see what they can do!”

Izuku agrees, “The sports festival this year promises to be an interesting one.”

“You watch them?” Mirio asks, stuffing his face with chocolate cake, his coffee cup already empty.

“Yes, every year since I was younger. I love seeing the way everyone uses their quirks.”

Mirio laughs, heartily agreeing that it sounds like something he would do. ‘Because you really like quirks!’. Mirio appears to know him quite well already, Izuku isn’t sure how to feel about that. How much does he know about him that’s actually the full truth? The future hero appears to have quickly made his way into his heart.

They chat the time away, Mirio happily retelling the funny moments of his class and Izuku occasionally quipping in with fun little stories of his own. Carefully, very carefully, he keeps the subject away from anything incriminating. It doesn’t take a lot of effort on his part to do so, the other doesn’t talk about a lot that doesn’t have anything to do with his time at school, it’s almost a bit… suspicious. Yet, Izuku can’t really blame him, he’s been doing the exact same thing himself. Besides it’s not like they really know each other that well, before the work they did on Dagobah beach, they had never even met.

Izuku simply decides to enjoy the peace while it lasts.

“… Speaking of villains, have you been watching the news today, Izuku?”

Izuku jolts, had he been daydreaming again? The lure of peace had made him careless, he ignores the movement in the corner of his eye. There is no danger here, there is no reason to act.

“No, I don’t think I have. Why?” An honest answer, he hasn’t been near a television or radio the entire day, he had woken up late, his father choosing today of all days to let him sleep in.

Mirio looks worried, the uncharacteristic frown, no matter how slight, has Izuku worry as well. “They had found a body in an alley nearby, they think it’s a planned assassination. Likely by a large, organised group of villains.” Izuku grips his coffee cup a bit tighter, “I’m worried about your safety since you walk all the way out here on your own, right? And your father, because of his injury might just be incapable of self-defence…”

The traitor- that menace just has to be troublesome even in death. No matter, the fact that he’d been found in public made him useful enough to make the trouble worth it. Another chess piece on the board, wiped away for the sake of victory, a kinder world. It couldn’t be helped.

Izuku’s smile hadn’t faded the entire time, he gently lowers his now empty cup of coffee back onto the table, but he doesn’t let go.

“There’s no need to worry about our safety, I’m the last person you’ll have to worry about.”

Mirio seems to have gone a little pale for some reason.

“If anything, I’m more worried about your safety, Mirio.” Izuku continues nonetheless.

“Why is that?”

“You’re training to become a hero, are you not? Once you graduate you’ll be thrown straight into the battle field,” He grins, resting his head on top of his folded hands, “I can hardly imagine what you’ll have to face.”

The worry eases off of Mirio’s face a little, but the slight amount of tension doesn’t leave his shoulders. If anything he looks guilty now.

“Sorry, ‘guess you’re kind of right…” Mirio perks up, trying his hardest to give a carefree smile  like he had before. To the untrained eye, he would have succeeded. However Izuku isn’t fooled. Who could he possibly be taking after, faking smiles like that? These heroic types become more interesting the more time he spends around them.

“Anyhow,” Mirio continues, “Have you visited Dagobah beach with your father yet?”

A sudden change of subject, it leaves him reeling a little but he plays along all the same.

“No, we haven’t gotten the chance to because it’s been very busy lately. But I hope we’ll get the chance soon.”

Mirio’s smile becomes a bit more honest, “Really? Well be sure to tell me all about it when you do.” The cheer has all but returned to his voice, Izuku somehow finds himself relieved it has.

Izuku grins back, a little more honest himself, “Sure!”

Suddenly his phone pings, reminding him of his curfew. He’ll be late if he doesn’t hurry and he’d hate to have Kurogiri wait.

“I’m sorry but I have to go, otherwise I’ll be late for dinner.” Izuku says as he quickly stands to make his way towards the door.

“That’s fine, don’t worry about it!” He hears before leaving, he’s sure to throw back ‘see you again soon!’ before leaving the building.

Dinner with his father was welcoming but what is on his mind the most is the lack of a certain person’s presence.

Shouto wasn’t at dinner either, in matter of fact, he hasn’t been at dinner with them for a while now. Izuku’s mild concern has grown into apprehension. Enough is enough, he’s not going to let his best friend run away from him forever.

A helpful hint from his father steers him forward; ‘Your friend has been training quite a lot lately and had requested Kurogiri to bring him dinner to his own quarters. I overheard them talking yesterday. Perhaps you’ll find him in the fields outside?’

That’s how he finds himself, leaning on a tree near an opening in the forest, watching his friend strike a training dummy with fire and ice covered fists. He has clearly been at it for a while already, his arms and hands are covered in bruises and his knuckles are visibly bleeding. Shouto’s entire body practically radiates exhaustion but he keeps going.

Punch, punch, kick, kick. A mind numbing rhythm, only interrupted by the occasional mistake. Izuku watches until he couldn’t bear the sight any longer.

“Shouto…”

His friend flinches so badly he falls to the ground. His sweating face whips towards him and his breath appears to still in his chest. He doesn’t say anything.

“What are you doing?” Izuku asks.

It’s a question with a seemingly obvious answer. Izuku walks towards him but stops a few meters away. Far enough to not be forced to look down on him.

“…I’m training.” Shouto answers and Izuku has to stop himself from sighing in relief, glad to hear his friend’s voice again, glad he still talks to him.

“I can see that.”

“Then why-?!”

“-because I’m worried Shouto. What have you been doing to yourself?” Izuku interrupts him, “I don’t understand, why won’t you talk to me?”

Shouto turns away but Izuku won’t stand to be avoided any longer. He comes closer and lowers himself onto his knees in front of him.

“Shouto. Talk to me, please.”

“Why, why do you persist so much?” Shouto says, his voice wavers in an out of character way. His face scrunched up with an emotion Izuku hardly recognizes; desperation, fear, sadness… anger.

“Because you are my friend and friends worry and care about each other.”

Izuku stares him straight in the eye, unwavering. Shouto is the first to break eye contact, the storm of emotion previously present changes into guilt.

“You shouldn’t have to…” Shouto speaks quietly, but his voice gains more strength as he speaks, “I should be strong enough, strong enough so that you’ll never have to worry about a thing.”

Shouto clenches his bleeding fists, the earth scrapes against his wound but it doesn’t seem to bother him. “Yet everyone seems to worry, yet I feel like I’m falling behind and that everyone is getting stronger, except me.”

“I fear… that one day you won’t have any use for me anymore…”

Izuku’s heart sinks, unable to bear to watch his friend crumble away any longer, without hesitation he grabs the hands of his best friend, and intertwines their fingers, his own slightly scarred ones appear starkly clean compared to his dirt and blood covered ones. Shouto looks at him, eyes slightly widened in surprise.

“I told you already, didn’t I? I worry about you, not because of obligation or anything stupid like that. I worry about you because you’re my friend,” He tightens his grip, “And as my friend you are never useless, or weak for that matter. You are one of the strongest people I know.”

Shouto’s eyes are tearing up and he’s not the only one, Izuku himself feels the first tears roll down his own cheeks. It’s painful, to know that his dear friend has been beating himself up like this. He feels horrible that he hadn’t noticed this earlier.

Even though his dual haired friend is crying, his breath remains strangely steady after having stabilised from his previous storm of emotions. It’s startling sometimes, to be reminded that Shouto is even younger than he is, while the other is usually more controlled and stoic, more ‘adult’ than him.

“Thank you…” Shouto says, his voice wavers just the slightest and, though it’s a shaky one, a rare open smile appears on his face. Izuku lowers their intertwined hands but doesn’t let go just yet.

“I know words can’t magically fix everything and I know you’re probably not going to speak about all that troubles you right now. But I want you to know that when you’re ready, I’ll be one and all ears.”

Shouto doesn’t say anything in response, but Izuku knows his words have been heard. His silence speaks a thousand words.

They’ll get trough this, just like they all have before.

Chapter Text

“Young master, please wake up.”

Izuku blearily opens his eyes and tries to wake up properly enough to see who the owner of the voice is. Crouched in front of him is not his father, who usually wakes him almost every morning, but it’s Crimson instead. He stifles a yawn, the other is a rather unusual sight because he is usually away from their home. Izuku sits up, trying his hardest to shake off the last dredges of sleep and hear what the other has to say.

Luckily Crimson has the patience of a saint, he patiently waits to be addressed all the while completely unbothered by what has to be an uncomfortable kneel by his bed.

“… Good morning, Crimson.” Izuku slurs to his father's most loyal assassin.

Crimson’s face remains calm, but there is a barest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, “Good morning young master.” He waits for Izuku to finish rubbing his eyes and stretching stiff limbs. “I came to tell you that sir isn’t well and requested that I take care of your needs,” now that wakes him up, “Is there anything I can do for you right now, young master?”

Izuku, now fully alert, properly looks at Crimson. The assassin is fully equipped, carrying all his weapons like he just came back from his nightly patrols. A likely assessment as it is still dark outside which means that it’s still very early in the morning.

He’s very concerned for his father but tries his hardest not to show it. The future leader of their family should be able to stay composed in any type of situation, just like Crimson. With determination set in mind, Izuku takes a deep fortifying breath through his nose and responds to Crimson, “No. I’m fine, thank you Crimson. You can go now.”

The assassin doesn’t question his reply. Instead he respectfully bows his head before rising up with no effort. However he suddenly turns back to him when he’s at his bedroom door, his one visible deep red eye bores into his own but not in an intimidating manner, “Please do not forget young master, that you may always call for my assistance should you need it.”

Izuku blinks in surprise but quickly recomposes himself, “Sure…”

“Very well, if you’ll excuse me.”

The door softly clicks shut behind him, snapping Izuku out of his early morning haze. As much as he’d love to contemplate Crimson’s strange behaviour, he’s much more worried about a more pressing matter.

‘I came to tell you that sir isn’t well …’

It isn’t a first, nor is it frequent but it’s often enough for Izuku not to panic. But the concern is still very much there, clawing at his throat like a ferocious beast and leaving him feeling venerable. He shakes his head, now is not the time to worry like that.

Izuku jumps out of his bed and walks over to his bedroom door, opening it just enough for his head to fit through. He sneakily glances back and forth, squinting his eyes at the dark hallway hoping to make out any kind of presence. He finds none. Crimson had actually left.

Izuku breathes a sigh of relief. It wouldn’t have been the first time the man had waited in front of his door, apparently concerned for his well being and safety. The assassin is as, if not more, loyal as a dog. Patiently waiting for commands and guarding just a fiercely. Perhaps almost stiflingly so. The only one worse than Crimson is his father, who would absolutely refuse to let go of him if he were to be in any type of danger. Father also doesn’t really take any commands, unlike Crimson.

Thinking of his family’s strange shenanigans calms him down a little.

Izuku steps into the hallway, feeling somewhat cowed at it’s size, enhanced by the dark shadows covering most of his vision. Luckily the door of his father’s bedroom is right across his own. He takes another deep calming breath and sneaks across on his bare feet.

“Papa?” Izuku calls out.

There’s no answer. The large bedroom is completely silent aside from his own breathing and the much harder to notice deep breaths of his father. It’s even more pitch black as the hallway, with the curtains drawn and effectively blocking all light from outside. Izuku has to depend on his memory and ears to find where is father is.

It takes him a while as he carefully pads forward with his hands stretched out in front of him feeling for any unexpected obstacles. Despite expecting it he jumps a little in surprise when they finally meet something soft and silky.

With care he climbs onto what he knows is a large king-sized bed, where he can hear his father’s breathing the clearest. To his right there should be the nightstand with a much needed bedside light, when his searching fingers finds the switch he quickly flicks it on.

Suddenly his vision turns white, his eyes struggle to adjust to the sudden burst of light. But after a while he can see again and he takes a short moment to take stock of the room he’s in.

Everything is the same as he remembers it being. His father’s desk on the left corner of the room is very neat and clear of any of the usual papers, they had probably been taken by Crimson when he had passed by for his nightly patrol. The massive bookcase on the right of the desk is as orderly as usual, only one book is missing from it’s many rows. A quick glance back at the nightstand reveals where it went.

On the right of the room next to the large window is his mother’s memorial, well taken care of and decorated with fresh flower crowns. There is a photograph on display as well, of a lovely young woman smiling brightly at the camera. Izuku tries to not allow his eyes to linger there for too long, the memorial is so well taken care of that it leaves him feeling like he’s interrupting with his gaze alone.

Last but not least he turns his gaze resolutely to his father slumbering right next to him.

He looks a little pale but otherwise perfectly fine. But Izuku knows better as he never appears ill, not obviously at least, not since that particular event. For all Izuku knew his father could be suffering unimaginable pain at that exact moment, and he would be none the wiser. The thought has him shiver in apprehension.

With the courage collected during his assessment of the room he gently shakes his father’s shoulder, “Papa, can you hear me?”

Again, there’s no answer.

His sleep must be a very deep one then, somehow the thought brings him a bit of relief.

But even with the reassurance Izuku doesn’t want to leave, not just yet. He resigns himself to laying down next to him and he counts himself lucky that his father’s bed is big enough for him to be able to comfortably lay down next to him without either falling off or having to drape himself over his sleeping father and risk waking him up.

“Izuku?”

Izuku jumps up in surprise and he nearly falls off even with the room he gave himself. But before he could a firm yet gentle hand grabs his arm, steadying him.

“P-papa?” Indeed, his father is awake, looking at him with strange cloudy eyes, almost as if he isn’t entirely there. The sight makes his heart sink.

Another episode, it’s been a while since he had one of those. He now understands why Crimson had acted so concerned for his wellbeing, why he had acted so strange.

Izuku settles himself by his father’s side a bit more comfortably, choosing to stay up this time. As he shifts, the grip on his arm loosens. He speaks again when he’s sure he has calmed down and his voice won’t stutter.

“Papa, how are you?” It’s better that way, if he’s stressed and worried his father will do the same. Stress is the last thing he needs, he’ll recover faster without it and his family will likely be a lot safer as well, when his father isn’t out for their blood whenever they as much as look at him wrong.

“Why are you here?” Father didn’t answer his question, something that was to be expected and only validates his concerns. “Did you have a nightmare, Izuku?”

A nightmare? The last time he had one of those was back when he was eight.

But Izuku doesn’t tell him that, instead he smiles, hoping that his father won’t notice how fake it is. “Yeah, it was an awful one.”

Father’s eyes stare straight through him for a moment, the almost fierce look in his pale green eyes freezes his insides. For all it’s worth he can understand why his father is a feared man because a glare from those eyes would make even the most hardened soldiers sweat in fear.

Except the look in his eyes isn’t anger, it is concern. The emotions of his father are usually never that clear to read. The open, venerable display is startling.

Had Izuku given the wrong answer? A soft touch on his cheek shakes him from his escalating thoughts.

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” His father tells him and his voice is quiet, as if he’s still half asleep. Nevertheless Izuku doesn’t doubt him. Being near his father, no matter the state he’s in, makes him feel safe.

“I know, thank you papa.” Izuku says and he waits patiently for his father’s eyes to close again. After what feels like a long time it seems that father has fallen back to sleep. Izuku sighs softy in relief. It’s sad to see his father who usually so strong and confident, get reduced to a delirious state of mind.

Whenever he asks the doctors for the reason why, he always gets a vague answer, ‘it’s a repercussion of the brain injury he had sustained’. Somehow he doubts that’s the only reason. Izuku shakes his head, now is not the time to be doubting things like this. He should worry about more important things instead.

His father’s voice sounded rough and raspy so perhaps he could use some tea? Herbal tea with honey should ease the throat a little and father is oddly fond of the smell of herbs.

Father once told him that it reminded him of his brother.

Without any of his previous hesitation present, Izuku rests his head on his slumbering father’s shoulder and drapes his arm over his chest in a partial embrace.

“Sleep well and get better soon, papa. I’ll take care of everything today.” Izuku whispers, hardly disturbing the hush that had fallen back into the large bedroom.

He makes to get up from his position on the edge of his father’s bed, determined to care for his father for once and to ensure that his father will have nothing to worry about. But a hand grabs his forearm tightly before he get’s the chance to leave.

“Don’t go…” It’s father, his peridot green eyes shine ominously in the dark. They seem to glow but the weak lamplight couldn’t possibly make them look so chillingly bright. Izuku briefly tries to pull his arm out of his hold but try as he might the hold won’t loosen. He’s trapped.

“Don’t go… they will take you away from me…” Father rasps and the look in his eyes is almost too wild, too animalistic to be considered human, “They will hurt you, they will steal you away from me…”

Fear, anger, pain, anguish.

The emotions stark in the air seem to drown out the minimal amount of light present, the cold shadows feel like they could suffocate him. Blind with panic Izuku pulls on his arm once again but it doesn’t budge. The cold creeping into his veins chokes the air out of his lungs and leaves him breathless.

“Please… don’t leave me…”

The desperation in his voice snaps Izuku out of his fear induced stupor. Somehow the room returns back to normal and the shadows swallowing everything whole disappear in the blink of an eye. Izuku hurries back to his father’s side, the tight grip on his forearm isn’t released but he pays it no mind this time. With his free arm he hugs his father as tightly as he can and whispers apologies into his shoulder, “I’m sorry papa, it’s okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

It takes some time but his hold slowly loosens until his arm is fully released. Father hugs him back, “Why are you here? Did you have a nightmare, Izuku?”

…

Izuku smiles brightly, “Nope! It’s morning and I heard you weren’t feeling well.”

Rinse and repeat. But take a better approach this time.

“Can I get you some tea papa?”

By the time Izuku finished getting ready for the day the sun is warming the hallways, bathing the entire estate in a warm golden light. The birds sing their pleasant morning songs and the large grandfather clock ticks time away from the end of the hallway. He stops for a moment, how come he hadn’t heard the clock before? The hallway had been completely silent what feels like just moments ago.

No way, now he’s just seeing ghosts, Izuku pats his cheeks grinning. He must have been so focused he forgot all about it. Things like that happen all the time, right?

So he pushes all of his unnecessary fear to the back of his mind and happily jogs towards the kitchen. To no-one’s surprise he finds Kurogiri already there tending to breakfast. The smell of freshly baked omelette rice wafts through the air.

“Good morning Kurogiri!” Izuku calls out just before he enters.

“Good morning young master.” Says Kurogiri. There is a slight slant to his glowing yellow eyes, suggesting a smile. “What may I help you with?”

“A cup of herbal tea with honey for father.”

Kurogiri doesn’t question him for the rather odd request, instead he begins boiling the water and grabs the necessary ingredients with purposeful steps. The mist shrouded man really does remind him of a butler at times like these, the fact that he’s always immaculately dressed and is always polite hardly helps.

“Is there anything I could possibly do for you as well young master?” Kurogiri asks while skilfully pouring boiling tea. He jumps in surprise at the unexpected question.

“Ah, no… I’m fine, thank you.” Izuku plucks at his sleeve a little, suddenly feeling a little nervous. “Why do you ask?”

Kurogiri places an ornate polished sliver tray with the fully prepared tea and a little pot of honey, all expertly placed, into Izuku’s waiting hands.

“It has been quite chaotic lately, I’m worried you’ll take too many responsibilities as your father’s successor.” Kurogiri says.

“I’m fine.” Izuku grips the tray in his hands a little tighter, “I know I’m young but I’ll change the future to a time where we can all finally have peace.”

He bounds over towards the doorway with big sure steps and looks over his shoulder to grin at Kurogiri, “Besides, it’s not like I’m going to change the world on my own, right? I know I can always count my family to help me all the way.”

Kurogiri slides the door open for him and Izuku walks out as fast as he can without being rude to avoid having to talk about the current situation any longer, but not before yelling over his shoulder at the other; “Thank you for the tea!”

Izuku sees many of father’s henchmen in the hallway, every single one of them as friendly as the last, greeting him with a semi-polite ‘good morning’ in many different variations. Some of them even asked of they could carry the tray for him but Izuku declined their help. He’s fine, he can handle this on his own. Nevertheless the sentiment is very much appreciated. He’s truly blessed to have such loyal comrades.

But no matter where you go, whenever there’s a large number of people in one place, there are bound to be a few… rotten apples.

Izuku’s reminded of this particular piece of wisdom when he encounters two troublesome looking figures down the hall. Their entire body-language screams nuisance and his first impression is validated when they notice him coming their way.

“If it isn’t the little prince,” One of them sneers, “All alone, without any bodyguards.”

The one speaking isn’t someone Izuku’s familiar with, his almost greasy looking blonde hair and rancid grin has him shudder with repugnance. Not that his friend was any better, slicked back hair and an equally rotten look on his face. Their similarities tell him that he’s likely dealing with siblings or close relatives.

Both gang up on him, like cliché villains that have jumped straight out of an American comic book and up close Izuku realizes that they smell just as bad as they look.

“Don’t worry squirt, we just want to play with ya.” The one on the right exposes yellowing teeth.

He was right, they are nuisances. But he’ll humour them, just to see what they want. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” Izuku smiles at them, apparently that’s not what they wanted him to do. Both drop all pretences and openly sneer at him.

“‘Do I know you?’,” the one on the right parrots, “ya better know who we are!”

He moves to shove him back but Izuku evades him. It’d be such a waste to spill Kurogiri’s well made tea. “Your damn pet dogs killed my brother squirt!”

Ah, family of the traitor, he should have known. The nuisance is genetic.

“Step aside, I have no business with you.” Izuku should hurry, or the tea will get cold. Furthermore he’d hate to have his father wait for too long or he might just get worried. His father being put under any type of stress is not favourable for his health, or anyone else’s health, really.

“We ain’t your lapdogs brat, we’re not going to kneel for you. We only joined you people for the power, for the fame but you guys are just fakes, weaklings.” Nuisance on the left points a finger at his face, “You know, we would have had a bit of mercy on you, for being a little kid and all but as a reward for being so brave, we’ll let you have a painful death instead! That’ll teach that dumb old man of yours!”

Traitors the bunch of them, cowards for speaking their ‘high opinions’ only to those they feel superior to. Izuku glares at them and to him pleasure both jump a little, not that their fear lasts for long. “Get out of my way.”

Nuisance on the right turns his arms into blades, nuisance on the left rips of his ratty gloves and shows bladed fingertips. Neither are that intimidating to him, he has seen much worse.

“That’s it, I’ll rip you to pieces brat!”

But before they could even move, their legs are frozen to the ground, effectively stopping the crooks from being beheaded by sharp plant vines. Izuku isn’t angry however, he’s glad. “Good morning Shouto!”

Father had forbidden everyone from shedding too much blood indoors, because it was a pain to clean and the smell would linger for days. He turns around to face his friend with a bright happy grin on his face.

“Good morning.” Shouto greets back, likewise unfazed by the cussing crooks behind them. There is a intriguingly displeased look on his face though, like someone just told him Endeavour won an award for good behaviour. Instead of commenting on the, for lack of better words, situation, he simply schools his expression into something more neutral and asks him whether he could help him with the tray, like many have before him. Does it honestly look like he cannot even carry a tray properly by himself? It’s either that or he must looks more troubled then he thought.

“What did I do to deserve all of you.” Izuku says instead and offhandedly waves the roses he had summoned away. Shouto, the poor guy, just looks confused. “I’m…sorry?”

“Oh it’s nothing, nevermind.” Izuku doesn’t really feel like explaining while they pass by the two partially frozen, still snarling nuisances. Though as the distance between them grows the yells start sounding increasingly frantic.

Just when they have almost walked out of hearing range, a loud crash is heard followed by loud screams. Shouto and Izuku don’t acknowledge it in any other way but speeding up their pace.

What happened to those rotten apples isn’t their concern. It shouldn’t be.

“Why did you stop me?” Izuku asks Shouto, just to break the silence that had fallen between them. They hadn’t seen or heard of another soul since…then.

Shouto looks his way with a resolute, no-nonsense face and answers without losing pace, “You shouldn’t bother to dirty your hands with them.”

Izuku blinks in surprise, since when has Shouto started to sound like Crimson so much? He isn’t sure why hearing his reasoning made his heart skip a beat in happiness. Perhaps the sincerity of his words or maybe the feeling of being taken so seriously. His friend takes his silence as a cue to explain further.

“And it’s my duty as you right hand man to protect you and deal with any problems so that you won’t have to.”

Seriously, how can he say that with a perfectly straight face? And why couldn’t he stop himself from grinning like a loon? He almost wishes he could hug his friend for being so ungodly precious, had it not been for the also very precious tray balanced in his hands he probably would have.

“Thank you.” Izuku says instead and Shouto still has the social decency to blush. His posture relaxes a little into something more fitting for their age.

Right, because no matter how much Shouto reminds him of his father’s most loyal assassin, with his white clothing and serious disposure, he’s his own person. He’s a teenager just like him, he’s Izuku’s ‘Crimson’. He sniggers a little at his own joke, earning him a strange look from Shouto but he doesn’t comment on it.

They fall back into a much more comfortable silence. Their pace has slowed a little as well, feeling more relaxed in each other’s presence. The commotion among the other henchmen appeared to have died down as well and the hallways start to come back to life. It’s uncommon for one or more of his family members to ‘defect’, even more rare for them to be disposed of in their home. It’s only normal for everyone to be tense for a while when it does happen. Though in Izuku’s opinion it’s without reason. The guardian that stalks the hallways will only attack when it has a very good reason to. Otherwise it’s as friendly as your average neighbourhood canine.

“Have you heard more about the mission tomorrow?” Shouto suddenly asks.

The mission? He had completely forgotten about it and he says so to his friend.

Shouto shrugs, “It’s okay. To be honest I had just remembered it myself.”

Liar. He had been talking about it a lot during dinner last night, something he had also remembered just now. Apparently the hectic beginning of the day had made him forget a lot of things. Izuku is not sure what to think of that.

“I can tell you the things that I do know though,” Izuku starts, “It’s not like I know nothing about it overall.”

Just most of the details, but Shouto doesn’t need to know that. He’ll just read as many of the reports and plans as he can before the end of the day. That will be more then enough, right?

“Okay.” Blunt as always, Shouto. “I’m not sure what the entire thing was about anyway.”

Oh, so he hadn’t been lying then. Good to know.

“The report?”

“I lost it.”

Of course he did.

Izuku sighs, leave it to Shouto to make him feel better about his own clumsiness. Sometimes it’s almost like it’s on purpose. But he may just be able to use this to his advantage.

“The mission is the infiltration of UA high’s USJ facility and to further our knowledge of the new upcoming generation of heroes firsthand. We also need to test the cooperative abilities of the first successful ‘guardian’, also nicknamed Noumu by some of the lower ranked henchmen, in a larger group of diverse enemies.” Izuku stops walking to properly look at his friend, “It’s also our debut as ‘villain’s to the world of heroics.”

“‘Our debut’?” Shouto parrots, “Weren’t you supposed to stay home?”

Ah darn, he had hoped to distract Shouto with the complicated mission briefing but he had remembered the one thing that he had hoped he had forgotten.

“I can’t just stay home Shouto, I can’t!” Izuku pleads but Shouto doesn’t budge.

“Why not?” Stone cold, his friend is stone cold.

“Because,” Izuku dramatically sniffs, “There are so many amazing quirks out there to see and our adorable Guardian is finally spreading it’s wings, or uh, claws and I won’t get to see you finally making your grand entrance into the police’s international blacklist!”

“Is that a good thing?” Shouto asks looking awfully awkward.

“Yes it is, my adorable little brother is growing up!”

Shouto doesn’t say anything in return. Izuku sighs deeply.

“You’re not going to budge are you?”

“No, not really.”

“But why?” One last try, aim…

“Because your father will filet me and feed me to the carnivorous plants outside.” And misfire.

Mission failed.

Izuku isn’t pouting. Really, he isn’t.

They start walking again. The silence suddenly not so comfortable anymore.

“Will it make you feel better if I’ll tell you absolutely everything afterwards?”

“Absolutely everything?” Izuku couldn’t help but ask.

Shouto nods, “Absolutely everything, to the detail.”

Izuku cheers, “Thank you Shouto! I would hug you but,” he raises the tray still in his hands, “You know.” Shouto sighs deeply, sounding almost comically like an exasperated old man and lightly butts shoulders with him.

“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”

“Definitely.”

Their short walk together, which had definitely taken longer then it should have, ended when they finally arrived near his father’s bedroom door. The tea had sadly gone cold by then, a testament to how long their walk actually was but Shouto had been so kind to warm it up again just below boiling temperature. His quirk is so useful and Izuku counts his blessings for having a great friend like him, he wouldn’t know what to do if he hadn’t had him around.

Afterwards they had said their goodbyes and split ways, Shouto had to prepare for his mission the next day and had also wanted to give him and his father some peace and quiet. Something Izuku is actually quite grateful for.

Though he regretted not asking Shouto to open the door for him, it had been quite the struggle to open the door with both his hands already occupied. He had to call instead of knock and awkwardly push the door open with his feet.

But finally he’s back again, the first sight that greets him when he lets himself in is a somewhat happy one. His father is seated upright in bed, the book that had previously been on the nightstand rests on his lap. A great sign, had it not been for the fact that he didn’t seem to be reading at all. For all it’s worth he appears to be staring right through it.

Izuku suppresses a sigh, it’s sad to see but he can’t let his grief show, lest his father will get concerned. Instead he greets him with a smile, “Good afternoon, papa.”

The reaction is instant, father looks up quickly, his eyes shining with a bit more life than previously.

“Izuku, you’re back.” Father says, like it’s something joyous.

Izuku walk up to his bedside and sits down on the edge after placing the silver tray with tea on the now free nightstand. A quick glance at the book shows him that his father really hadn’t been reading, the pages are open to diagrams of the anatomy of birds. A complicated subject you really need to pay attention to in order to understand, but he doesn’t mention that.

“What are you reading?” He asks instead.

“A book about birds.” At least he knew what he is reading about, “Did you know that your uncle really likes birds?”

“I didn’t.” He answers truthfully, his uncle isn’t a common subject.

“… I hope to learn more about them, if he cannot see them then I can at least share some knowledge about them.” Father says almost dreamily. He looks away, “I wonder where he went…”

Uncle is dead, he has been for a long time already.

But Izuku cannot bring himself to tell him that, not now, not when it would shatter him with anguish all over again.

He changes the subject instead. “I brought you some tea papa. It’s your favourite, would you like some?”

His father looks back towards him and smiles, genuine and honest, like he hadn’t just asked where his dead brother went, like he’s still waiting for him to come back home. “That’s nice of you, thank you.”

Suddenly he moves over and hugs him. The book on his lap slides off and falls to the ground, forgotten. Izuku spares it only a glance before returning his attention to his father, who’s affectionately nuzzling his nose into his hair. Izuku laughs, more genuinely than he expected himself to be capably of and gently nudges his father in the shoulder. “Your tea papa, or it’ll grow cold again.”

He doesn’t relent, instead he mumbles, “My child, my precious treasure… please don’t leave me…”  Izuku’s smile wanes. He’s not there, not really. Just lost in how own mind, balancing precariously on the edge of sanity and humanity. How easy it is to lose both. It’s scary.

Instead of prodding him further, Izuku hugs him back. “It’s alright, don’t worry. I’ll always stay with you, I’m not going anywhere.”

Father remains silent. Iced tea is also alright with the summer heat, he infers. He should ask Shouto to make a few ice cubes then. You can’t have proper iced tea without some actual ice.

As if summoned Shouto’s familiar voice is heard behind him. He sounds hesitant, something Izuku understands very well.

“Izuku, mister Midoriya… could I speak with one of you for a moment?” A safe question and it actually makes his father budge. Just not the way either of them had wanted him to. Instead of actually letting go, his father tightens his hold a little, as if the presence of Shouto threatens them. Or better yet, threatens Izuku. If father really is trapped in his, for the lack of better words, hazy state of mind, it’s all too plausible for him not to recognize Shouto. So in order to prevent the situation from escalating to something less than pleasant for all of them, Izuku hurries to answer before his father can.

“Yes it’s fine Shouto! I’ll talk to you soon.” He says, careful not to imply anything that could set his father off. Almost desperately he hopes that Shouto takes the hint for what it is and leaves. Luckily Shouto knows him long enough to recognize the warning for what it is, he turns around and leaves without as much as another word. Once the door clicks shut his father’s hold relaxes bit by bit until he’s just leaning onto him.

“Papa…” Izuku hesitates, as much as he would do anything for his extended family, his father is also very important to him. Just standing up and leaving felt like a steep betrayal after having just promised to stay. Yet can he just ditch his duty as their family’s second in command because his father is ill? Wasn’t this the reason that he stepped up as his father’s successor to begin with?

“It’s okay, you can go and help them.” He jumps in surprise when his father speaks before he could make up his mind. Had father actually heard what Shouto just said?

“Is that really alright with you?” He couldn’t help but ask, just to make sure that the day would end up in a bloodbath.

“It’s okay…” Father says, he leans back far enough for Izuku to be able to look at his face. He doesn’t look angry, nor does he look particularly concerned. But there is a rather peculiar expression in his eyes that he cannot quite place. “… Just come back soon, don’t take too long.”

“Of course, I’ll be back as soon as I can!” Izuku jumps onto the opportunity presented to him. It’s the best solution he can think of at the moment without disappointing anyone, himself included. Father smiles, strange but genuine.

Izuku smiles back and gives his father another quick hug before standing up and heading for the door but not without thinking of picking up the silver tray on his way out.

“I’ll bring you iced tea when I get back!” He calls out before nudging the door shut behind him. He’d better hurry and get whatever’s so important over with, so he can go back and spend the rest of the day with his father. To prevent any type of disaster from happening, the back of his mind reminds him but he pushes it away. There is no reason for any of that.

But Izuku didn’t see the smile falter on Hisashi’s face, nor did he see the glow of peridot eyes. “Don’t take too long please…”

“Shouto!” Izuku calls out, careful not to spill any cold tea as he runs up to his friend. “Sorry to make you wait.”

“It’s fine,” Shouto responds, “I didn’t really wait for long.”

“Thank goodness. We should hurry though, I had promised father to come back as soon as possible.” Izuku hands Shouto the tray, “Could you ice this tea for me?”

“Sure, but why?” His confusion is very reasonable, just a while ago he had asked him to heat it up after all. Now that he thinks about it, he hopes the tea doesn’t turn bitter from all those temperature changes, father has as a massive sweet tooth after all.

“There is nothing better than iced tea during a hot summer day, right?” There is nothing to worry about though, Kurogiri had the foresight to add a pot of honey on the silver tray. The man is very familiar with his father’s habits. Shouto doesn’t ask further, he simply takes the tray and walks forward to join Izuku who had walked further ahead.

“What was the problem anyhow?” Izuku asks. Although he knows it’s something important. Otherwise Shouto would have dealt with it himself, no doubt.

“The new recruit has arrived to meet our leaders. Apparently Chrono really wanted at least that you or your father would meet her before she actually does any work for us.” Shouto briefly explains.

It would seem that Chrono is up to mischief again to some but Izuku feels like the matter is more important than that. Who could this person possibly be that she is considered enough of a possible threat to be screened personally by him or his father? Or was is not because of the risk? Did Chrono foresee something with that mysterious quirk of his? Izuku is honestly starting to grow a bit tired of all the confusion.

When they finally meet up with the others, two miscellaneous villains flanked by Kurogiri and Crimson, Chrono naturally nowhere to be seen, he is met with a sight he didn’t expect.

A young girl his age stands before him looking extremely nervous as she is visibly fidgeting, yet also looks very surprised to see him and Shouto. Likely because the both of them are about her age, Izuku figures.

Her entire appearance doesn’t pique him as someone with a darker agenda. In matter of fact, she could fit right in with most average groups of students, although her school career is anything but average, her standard UA uniform tells him that much. Her relatively round brown eyes and blushing cheeks combined with bouncy brown hair makes her look the exact opposite of threatening. Nevertheless he will take her seriously and treat her the exact same way he would with any other recruit.

“Could you please introduce yourself?” He asks, looking her straight in the eye. The girl jumps a little and stutters as she answers. “I-I’m Uraraka Ochako, n-nice to meet you!”

Chapter Text

Izuku is quite comfortable where he is, warm and safe with a gentle hand carding trough his hair. Yet as he remains in his comfortable haze the nagging voice in the back of his head telling him to wake up is getting more and more insistent, until he cannot ignore it any longer. The hand patting his head stills as Izuku groans and stretches a little.

“Good morning Izuku.” Says a warm, familiar voice right besides him.

Izuku rubs his eyes, still feeling quite groggy as he murmurs a ‘good morning’ back at the familiar person that had previously been massaging his head so kindly.

If only he could just go back to sleep, back to that comfortable warmth where nothing is expected of him. But he can’t dismiss the outside world any longer. He has a duty, a responsibility, especially with his father still not feeling well.

His father. Right, he had been talking to his father the previous evening. Had he gone to bed? And who exactly is this person laying besides him? How could he have ignored the other’s presence for so long?

With a renewed sense of urgency Izuku opens his eyes only to be met with a very familiar pair of peridot green eyes. The sight has him relax immediately, he must have fallen asleep by his father's side yesterday. It most certainly explains the reason why he cannot remember going to bed or even leaving in the first place.

His father’s eyes are much clearer then they had been the previous day, they shine with his usual unique blend of affection. His right eye is still clouded, telling him that the eye is as sightless as it has been ever since ‘that day’. Izuku reaches out a hand to touch the large scar diagonally bisecting his father’s face. Are you alright? How are you feeling? He wants to ask.

“Does it still hurt?” He asks instead. He curses his partially sleeping head.

Father smiles, a gentle smile reaching all the way to his eyes. His eyes that shine with an almost devious sort of mirth. The hand still resting on top of his head ruffles his wild hair, Izuku half-heartedly complains against it.

“No, not at all.” Father replies, his voice just like his eyes, bright and clear yet still a little clouded.

Like a thin film of mist, easy to overlook except when you know what to look for. But even the mist doesn’t take away from the fact that it’s still much too bright and clear for in the morning. And the slight playfully devious look on his face makes Izuku a little suspicious. Nevertheless he decides not to comment on it. Yet.

He decides to focus on his father’s good mood instead. It’s without a doubt a good thing he’s doing so much better now, father’s tenacious nature is truly a force to be reckoned with. Words truly cannot describe how glad he is, that his father manages to hang on so well.

But hang onto what exactly? Izuku isn’t all too sure where the sudden thought came from, nevertheless he dismisses it immediately. It’s no use cling onto the past. One should live in the present and move towards the future; an unknown variable that can be changed, that will be changed.

Izuku is brought out of his pondering by a gentle tap on the forehead, father is looking him straight in the eye, his expression almost radiates fond exasperation.

“You’ve been up way too little time Izuku, to be analysing so intently.” Says father, even his voice sounds amused. Had Izuku not known him as well as he did, the tone in his voice would have sounded condensing. But to him, it only sounds challenging and he gladly raises to take bait.

“Really? And here I thought it’s never too early for performing intellectual conduct.” Izuku challenges back, making sure that the end of his challenge is stated as haughtily as humanly possible. He empathises the drama by upturning his nose snootily. His mission is accomplished when his father bursts into highly contagious laughter.

Beyond doubt, Izuku is immensely glad his father is doing so much better.

Their laughter is interrupted by Izuku stomach rumbling loudly, the organ apparently deciding to let it’s displeasure at being ignored for so long heard. Father is still snorting a little in amusement, his giggling increases each time his stomach makes a sound, almost like… like…

“Like an angry bear.” His father finishes, as if he could read his mind. His commend is rewarded with an undignified yell.

Izuku pouts, feeling an embarrassed blush rise up his neck. His embarrassment fades when he’s engulfed into a warm hug.

“Oh I’m sorry, my dearest little prince,” sounds father’s warm voice, “how about I make you some pancakes for breakfast, to make it up to you?”

Well, who can say no to that? Izuku readily agrees, returning his father’s firm hug.

However father doesn’t let go after a while, instead he lovingly nuzzles his hair.

“Thank you,” Father whispers, “Thank you for the tea, for staying with me… Thank you, Izuku.”

There is a lot Izuku would like to say to that, his emotions having gone trough quite the wringer since the previous day. He feels the slight linger of  embarrassment. He feels concerned at the strange mood his father is in, his mood swinging a bit too erratically to be considered normal. He still feels elated at the improvement his father’s health made, it for some reason almost makes him apprehensive. He’s also suspicious, of father’s state of being, of the fact that the time still hasn’t been mentioned yet and naturally how it seems like his father is omitting something quite important.

Yet most of all he’s very hungry. And those pancakes, those heavenly pancakes, sound like a blessing at the moment. As if on queue his stomach gives another mighty roar. The sound snaps his father out of whatever strange mood he had landed himself into.

And he had blamed Izuku for over-analysing so early in the morning. Pot’s and kettles.

“Ah yes, pancakes.” Father reluctantly draws back from their hug. “Let’s head to the kitchen then.”

Izuku very consciously decides not to comment on the fact that his father looks more ruffled than he can remember ever seeing. He also decides not to mention his father’s state of dress, still barefoot, in loose black pants and white night shirt. He does respond to his noticeable stumble though.

“Wait papa, let me help you.”

He’s doing a lot better, but still nowhere near his usual self.

The sight of his father cooking is a reassuringly familiar one. Yet even with the knowledge of his very advanced experience with baking pancakes, Izuku finds himself keeping a close eye on him. The reason why, he isn’t very sure of. As far as he’s aware there’s little that could possible go wrong. Except perhaps a burned pancake, or if father, in his partially hazed mind, decides to use ‘Fire Breath’ to bake the pancakes faster. There is a reason Kurogiri banned the usage of quirks in the kitchen unless it’s absolutely necessary.

He supposes that that must be the reason for his caution, even if his father is a very capable independent grown-up man that had been very capable of raising him on his own, thus simply baking pancakes shouldn’t be that dangerous. He tells himself that, but in reality he keeps a stern eye on any sudden movement suggesting the summoning of whatever quirk fitting father’s whims.

There are no such movement, at least not in the ten-minutes he has been staring for, hardly daring to blink. It honestly makes his eyes burn. And knowing that the chances of a fire-breath blowing up the kitchen is in actuality quite  slim, Izuku finally allows his eyes to shut for more then a second and let his mind wander a bit.

On their walk here they had encountered surprisingly little of his father’s henchmen, all of which had greeted his father with elation. Izuku frankly couldn't get over the fact that the few people they did meet and greet didn’t comment on their state of dress or their out-of-bed looks. He could theorise that most of them wouldn’t mention such a trivial thing out of respect, but logic tells him it’s more likely that it has been omitted for self preservation. Not surprising.

Unbidden his mind wanders towards the hallway they had passed trough, the same one he had had a… confrontation with couple of treacherous hooligans.

The hallway had been clean, not a single thing out of place, nothing to suggest the confrontation had happened in the first place. It’s was like the moment had been erased from time altogether. It is almost chilling to think about, despite them being nothing but nuisances, their screams had rattled him straight to the bone.

Izuku had paused in that hallway at the exact place the hooligans had been standing and just for a moment he could see something horrible jump out from the corner of his eye and tear him apart.

Such a thing obviously never happened. It will never happen.

Yet it scares him, the sight of perfectly unblemished walls scared him, just like the peaceful view trough the windows showing nothing but the infinite blue sky.

No, he mustn’t think of that, he shouldn’t linger on the past. It isn’t good for his health, not his father’s. His father, he had been worried about him, unnecessarily so. Because of such a foolish little thing. Because of such a pointless little thing.

Izuku opens his eyes to glance towards his father who is whimsically moving trough the kitchen humming a tune he doesn’t recognise. Luckily he hadn’t noticed a thing.

Izuku swallows whatever unnecessary fears still lingering. ‘Don’t think of the past too often or it will swallow you whole’. For once he’s grateful for Kurogiri’s strange cryptic lessons.

Instead of going back to yesterday, Izuku focuses his overactive mind on something else, anything else.

His father had been acting suspicious this morning. And the absence of most henchmen is equally suspicious. It cannot even be that early in the morning, the sky is too bright for that and his hunger suggests the exact same thing. It can’t be morning. But why would his father lie to him about such a silly thing?

And then it hit him, the mission, the USJ mission. They should have left this morning.

“Papa?”

“Yes?” Father answers capriciously. The sing-song tone has him narrow his eyes a little.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Izuku knows it petty to be this vague but he honestly couldn’t care at that moment.

“About what?” Father turns around, just like had suspected, there is a mischievous grin on his face. “About the USJ taskforce that left this morning? Or about the time?”

Izuku drops all pretence and slams the table he had been sitting by, “Both!” He yells.

“Because I know you very well Izuku, had you been awake you would have tried to sneak out with them. I know for I would have done the same thing.” Father ruffle his hair, his smile turns less mischievous and more fond. “Besides, you look so adorable when you sleep, I couldn’t bring myself to wake you up.”

Honesty, how is he supposed to stay angry when he says something like that? Izuku resist the urge to comment on his father’s strange habit of watching him sleep or to ask yet again why he couldn’t have gone to USJ as well, he knows the answer already.

“Your pancake is burning papa.” Izuku says instead, to give himself that last bit of revenge.

A wonderful decision, father’s eyes widen almost comically as he rushes back towards the kitchenette. Judging from his relieved sigh he had been on time and the pancake could be saved. That was good, it would have been a waste of a perfectly good pancake.

“Crimson had actually debriefed me before they left, you slept trough the entire conversation.” His father says after a while. “You must have been very tired.”

The tone of his voice is rather strange, Izuku isn’t all too sure what to make of it. But he doesn’t get the chance to say anything in return, his father speaks  before he could open his mouth.

“I’m done,” father spins around on his heel, a plate with a stack of mouth-watering pancakes in hand, “Let’s continue our conversation at the dining table, shall we.” An offer Izuku is all too willing to comply with.

For once, Izuku decides to simply drop their little argument and grant his father victory. Not that there is any reason to think that his father considered it an argument to begin with, it seems father had forgotten all about their previous conversation already, the slightly vacant look in his expressive eyes suggests as much.

In any case Izuku won’t take the opportunity to change the subject for granted.

But he focuses on stuffing his face with pancakes first, something readily allowed without Kurogiri present to reprimand him about table manners. His father doesn’t really care how he eats, as long as he’s actually eating Izuku won’t hear him complain about a thing. Another nuance in his father’s increasingly strange habits that Izuku both wants to question and complete forget about.

Their late breakfast turned lunch, it’s nearly 1pm already, is filled with an companionable quiet. But no matter how comfortable and rare the quiet was, Izuku is all too willing to be the one to break it, as his father doesn’t quite look like he’s about to start talking again any time soon. Which was to be expected, really.

“When do you think they’ll come back?” Izuku asks, perfectly aware his father will know exactly what he is talking about.

His father has a thoughtful look on his face while he glances towards the European-styled clock that decorates the dining room wall. “Perhaps in a few hours from now, depending on  how well the mission goes.”

Izuku nods, “I see…”

“Are you excited about their return Izuku?”

“Yes, of course!” He grins at his father widely, “Imagine all the quirks they’ll tell us about, the test run for the Noumu is also really exciting and it’s Shouto’s,” he quotes his fingers, “‘Villain debut’, it’s the first mission he leads, I want to hear all about it and, and…”

Father laugh interrupts him before he can continue, “you’re so adorable Izuku.”

Izuku blushes a little, he’s pretty sure his father is just saying that to embarrass him. He doing a good job of it, the adoring, fatherly look in his eyes makes him blush even harder.

“But I agree, the information they’ll bring back will without a doubt be very thrilling.” Says his father. He pauses for a moment, as if he’s considering what  to say next, “What about the new requites and your excursion to the upcoming UA sports-festival, are you excited about those as well?”

“At this point, I’m pretty sure I’m excited about the entire year papa.” Izuku answers, “Actually I might be excited for a lot the future has yet to bring.”

Father grins, “Wise words for someone so young.”

Izuku shrugs, “I learned from the best.”

His father’s grin however doesn’t falter, it grows a little the longer Izuku waits for a comeback. It takes him a moment to realise why, but once he does he has to stop himself from dropping his fork, ‘excursion to the UA sports festival’?! Had he heard that right?

“Sorry, could you repeat that?” He asks utterly dumfounded, his fathers laugh should be confirming it for him, but he really wants to hear it out loud.

“Could you be more specific? About the new requites or about your up coming trip to the UA sports festival?” There is a teasing tone as he speaks, Izuku ignores it in favour for cheering. Part of him wants to safe face and react like an adult, but he is much to happy to even bother acknowledging it.

“Thank you!” Izuku yells, running around the dining table to give his father a grateful hug, on his father readily accepts.

“Consider it an apology for not allowing you to go today.”

Had his father been aware of his frustration at being banned from the mission? Izuku had thought that with his father having been so out of it the previous day that this particular detail would have been forgotten, it seems his father is more alert than he expected.

“Though I implore you to keep your status a secret for now Izuku.” Father says, though he’s failing entirely at sounding stern with his light-hearted tone. Izuku doesn’t mind the condition, he had been very aware of it even without the reminder, thus without further ado he agrees.

In the warm embrace of his father Izuku feels blessed to have such a loving family. He couldn’t imagine his life in any other way, nor does he want to.

If only he could forget, the walls painted in caput mortuum.

Time flew by in the presence of his father. They had spend the early afternoon together doing the most typical things, washing the dishes, clearing the table, getting properly dressed and playing a random dusty board game they had found in one of the cabinets that neither of them really understood but had the most of fun playing anyway.

For a moment Izuku felt almost… normal. Like the many students he had seen in the city, going along their daily lives, unknowingly dancing upon the corpses of the past. Izuku almost wishes he could be as blissfully unaware, had he not been so grateful that he wasn’t.

Yet that was all in the past, what interests him more is the place he and his father are heading towards. The assigned meeting place of the returning USJ squad, Izuku jokingly named them such and it somehow stuck, they are about to arrive after being forced to ‘retreat after an crushing defeat’. As written in the plans he had managed to nick from his father after he fell asleep reading reports for the umpteenth time.

In his excitement Izuku could hardly stand still, bouncing lightly on his heels waiting for Kurogiri’s trademark misty gates to appear. His father doesn’t have the same problem. He patiently waits leaning on Izuku, his chin resting on top of his head, completely unbothered by Izuku’s boundless energy.

At last a deep purple fog spreads over the clearing they were standing in, before long Shouto is the first to step trough followed by Kurogiri, the henchmen that had managed to retreat and all the way behind a massive being covered in silver armour, the Noumu. Within a well planned manoeuvre those injured are moved and Kurogiri’s portal is closed in less then five minutes. An incredibly short time to have so much happen, but to Izuku hours might as well have passed. It is only once his father lets him go that Izuku allows himself to call out to his friend and sweep him into a tight hug.

“Shouto! Welcome back!” Izuku says spinning Shouto around with a bright grin on his face. Luckily Shouto managed to get away mostly uninjured, something Izuku had been most concerned over. All his friend has left of his mission is a slight burn on his right cheek.

The corners of Shouto’s mouth are lightly upturned, which might as well be a full on grin in his stoic friend’s way, as he responds with “I’m glad to be back.”

“I take the mission is a resounding success?” Izuku hears his father say.

“Yes sir. Plenty of information is gathered on the groups of interest from multiple angles, the villains caught have been kept to a bare minimum and the amount of injuries is lower then originally estimated.” Kurogiri answers.

Izuku doesn’t have to look to see the smirk on his father’s face, nor does he particularly want to. What he really wants is to hear absolutely every detail about the mission from Shouto, as was promised, and to get the burn the other suffered treated to avoid any scarring. His friend already has enough of those. With the self imposed mission in mind Izuku grasps Shouto’s arm, also slightly singed, and drags him inside.

Time to interrogate his dear friend about what he knows, not a single detail is going to be overlooked. Yet before Izuku could get far he suddenly freezes in his tracks forcing Shouto to stop as well, his friend looks at him questioningly. “Izuku? What’s wrong?”

In his excitement Izuku had almost forgotten. His father, he should tell his father where he’s going before he worries. Izuku turns towards Shouto and asks him to wait for a moment, Shouto doesn’t complain or question him, he simply complies. Though Izuku could still feel his monochromatic eyes follow him as he runs back into the crowd. The henchmen moving out of the way before he can bump into them.

All went well until he trips over a protruding root. Izuku braces himself for the  impact but it never comes. Instead he is caught quite gently in silver pleated claws, the Noumu had broken his fall.

“Shiruba! Thank you.” Izuku says after being put back on his feet. He pats the smooth armour covering the dragon-like Shiruba on the forehead. The large being purrs at the attention, like an oversized alligator-shaped cat, though it’s tail happily wags vaguely reminiscent of a dog. In it’s contentment it nearly hits a few of the nearby henchmen, much to Izuku’s amusement.

“Shiruba,” At the sound of Izuku’s voice it stills to wait for an order just like it had the habit to do, “please take me to my father.”

Right after he finishes his order, Shiruba lowers it’s arms to allow him to climb onto it’s shoulder. Being carried by it is both immensely fun and very practical, as it raises you above eye-level making something, or in this case someone, much easier to find.

Soon enough he sees his father again. He’s still talking to Kurogiri and it appears that he hadn’t noticed Izuku’s absence yet. Izuku happily slides off of Shiruba’s shoulder and runs towards his father’s side, Shiruba closely following like a large shadow. His father’s hand ruffles his hair as he greets him.

“Weren’t you with Shouto just moments ago?” His father asks.

So he did notice his absence, his calm response also solves another mystery to Izuku, Shiruba’s obvious intent to stick by his side or even just it’s presence to begin with. The Noumu had likely been told to do so by his father, otherwise Shiruba either patrols their home or stays unmoving to wait for it’s next task. Izuku isn’t sure whether he is embarrassed or grateful about it. Nevertheless he resists the urge to call him out on it and answers his fathers question instead.

“Yes, we were about to head inside but I forgot to tell you that…” Izuku pouts as his father ruffles his hair again, his hand never having left it’s place on top of his already messy hair. “… Not that I needed to tell you that, apparently.”

Father laughs a little, “Thank you for telling me then, Izuku. Why don’t you… go ahead. I still have some things to discuss with Kurogiri.” Father didn’t let go yet, when Izuku was about to inquire he continues, “Don’t worry, I’ll join you as soon as I can.”

Was the reassurance for Izuku or for himself?

Not that it’s important, Shouto is waiting after all, he shouldn’t take too long. When father’s hand leaves it’s perch on top of his head Izuku takes a step back, giving his father a brilliant grin, “I’ll see you soon then!” He says before he pivots on his heel and heads back to the spot Shouto should be waiting at, Shiruba faithfully following after him.

Luckily Shouto hadn’t gone far from his earlier spot, he had moved a little closer towards to edge of the forest to lean against one of the old fallen trees. His poor friend must be tired. Maybe he would like to be carried inside by Shiruba? The idea is swiftly dismissed when Izuku notices him tense at the sight of the Noumu. It’s intimidating appearance must scare the other, even though Shiruba is one of the more… ‘aesthetically pleasing ones’, as his father had mentioned once.  Nevertheless Izuku won’t mention his briefly considered plan to his friend.

“Shouto!” Izuku calls to pull his attention away from Shiruba, “I sure hope I didn’t make you wait for too long.” His mission is a success, Shouto looks much more relaxed as he shakes his head in negative.

“No it’s fine, the weather is nice enough.” Shouto answers.

Without much further ado they both head inside, neither mentioning or acknowledging their new companion.

It was much easier that way.

“Well then Shouto, it time you make good on your promise, tell me everything you know.”

Izuku is perched smugly on his father’s favourite chair with his legs crossed and with the most cliché villainous smirk imaginable on his face. Shouto is kneeling in from of him appears to be desperately trying to hold his laugh. Shouto then bows deeply, resting his head on the floor, “please have mercy on me, my lord.” He says with a failing monotone, the strange lithe tone giving away his amusement.

This is what his father walks in on, the expression on his face is pure gold. It forces Izuku to break character and break out in laughter. “Am I interrupting young master?” His father asks, sounding playfully sarcastic.

“No papa, it’s fine.” Izuku says, quickly jumping out of his father’s chair to allow his father to take a seat and to join Shouto, who had taken the chance to sit on the couch. “I was just about to interrogate Shouto on his findings.”

“Then by all means, don’t let me stop you. Though I hope you don’t mind if I join you.” His father says. The implication behinds his word, no matter how lightly spoken, are clear. Father expects a serious report out of Shouto.

Shouto seems aware of this as well, as he bows his head in understanding. But the atmosphere hardly changes from it’s previous carefree state. His friend stays silent for a while likely to gather his thoughts.

Izuku can understand, reporting is much more difficult than it looks. Shouto’s increasingly troubled expression tells him he’s having even more problems with it then he expected. Izuku wanted to help, but he himself has absolutely no idea what the problem even is. And it’s not as if he could ask, for asking could be seen as an insult to his capability.

His father doesn’t have the same problem. He leans forward with a patient look on his face.

“Why not start at your arrival and go from there?” Father suggests. His tone of voice is light, something Izuku is quite grateful for. Even with his gentle hands and always kind disposition, his father can sometimes be quite… intimidating. Even more pressure is the last thing Shouto needs.

Shouto takes another moment and then begins his report, just like many things that day, for the first time. He’s glad to see that his friend relaxes more and more as he speaks, becoming more sure of himself and his abilities. After all Shouto is very intelligent, giving a report should be no problem.

As Izuku thinks this he cannot help but feel like hypocrite, he himself had been a nervous stuttering mess the first time he reported anything. Though he likes to blame that on his father’s angry glare after he had snuck out on his own accord back when he was ten to prove how independent he was. Little to say that he got horribly lost in central Tokyo and nearly taken hostage by a random rampaging villain. Father was most definitely not amused.

“…Kurogiri and I were then taken by surprise by a boy with an explosion quirk, he nicked me by the cheek and had nearly attacked Kurogiri had I not retaliated. I sufficiently held back to ensure no real damage was caused to my opponent, as requested in the debriefing this morning.” Shouto takes a moment to take a deep breath and then continues, “Similarly all students were taken to the appropriate locations to bring out the most of their abilities as possible. The teachers were held back by the people in possession of a mutation Quirk…”

All according to plan then, it’s just like Kurogiri had said, the mission was a resounding success. Izuku can’t wipe the proud, broad smile off his face.

He waits as patiently as he can possibly manage, taking example from his father who listens with the patience of a saint, an ironic analogy considering his ‘occupation’. But it becomes rather difficult to properly focus on what his friend is saying when his mind is preoccupied by millions of questions on all of the quirks Shouto mentions in his droning report. Yet Izuku holds out to allow his friend to properly finish his word, despite the fact that it’s the first time since always that Izuku has heard his friend say to much all in one go. Maybe his habit to mumble endlessly, should he get the chance, had been bad influence on Shouto.

“…That’s when 1-A student Iida Tenya returned with back-up, such as Midnight, Snipe and Vlad King. The Noumu send with us, Shiruba,” Comically Shiruba raised it’s head as it’s name was mentions but father dismissed it with the wave of his hand, “protected most of us by deflected the shots fired by Snipe. We then made our retreat in the pretence of defeat.”

Shouto bows again, finally breaking eye contacted with his father, “I’d like to conclude my report here.”

Father nods, “Thank you Shouto, you did well. Though you could perhaps consider omitting smaller details and specifying the more important subjects.” When Shouto opens his mouth father interrupts, “Later.” Fair enough.

Izuku thinks of Shouto like a brother and loves him the same way, but after listening to him drone for over half an hour Izuku is elated he’s finally done. He would have cheered, had it not been incredibly insulting. Even better, now that Shouto is finished reporting Izuku can finally ask him about the Quirks that interested him so much.

“You said something about an explosion quirk Shouto?” Izuku asks leaning in on his unmoving friend. “Tell me more about that.”

“… His personality is as explosive as his quirk…” Shouto’s eyes dart back and forth from his own hands, “… The explosions came from his hands.” He adds.

Then perhaps his hands secrete something that can cause explosions, perhaps his quirk is triggered by some type of friction, and the fact that Shouto mentioned his ‘equally explosive personality’ is quite amusing.

“Any others?” Izuku also asks, energized by the prospect of learning even more about Quirks. He leans in even closer to Shouto who started to back away.

“An invisibility Quirk…”

“And?”

“…”

“Shouto?”

“Engine legs?”

Engine legs? Maybe it was Iida, known to be pro-hero Ingenium’s younger brother. Ingenium is quite the interesting hero, known to take in vigilantes and having an overall kind disposition. Izuku wonders if Iida Tenya is similar to his older brother. Had he gone to UA would they have been friends?

Such a childish thing to contemplate, he dismisses the thought as soon as it came.

Shouto looks a bit silly, alternating between looking at his legs and hands. Exploding hands and engine legs are hardly the strangest things Izuku has ever heard of, considering the level of strange is much larger in those that are rejected by society, the type of people that usually end up becoming part of his family. Yet Shouto grounds him back to normalcy, in his never-ending amazement at the vast variations of Quirks out there.

Izuku decides not to drill him further, he’ll just nick the detailed reports off of his father’s table later when he undoubtedly falls asleep while reading them again.

“Speaking of things, how was Shiruba?” Izuku asks. Yet again Shiruba raises it’s head to see if something is wanted from it, but this time instead of letting his father dismiss it again Izuku beacons it to come to him, something the Noumu gladly complies to and he allows it to lay down it’s silver armoured head on his lap.

He absentmindedly wonders why it couldn't have been fluffy instead. But that would have defeated the entire purpose of it's scales really, Shiruba was hardly anything like a dog.

Shouto blanches a little and back away even further when Shiruba had come near.

“It is… really strong…” Shouto says looking like the very textbook definition of hesitant.

It’s frightening and intimidating, went unsaid. But Izuku heard it nevertheless. He sympathises with his friend’s response, he felt the same way when he first met it. His father had carefully allowed them to meet, his presence protected Izuku from his fear and made him feel brave enough to get to know, to understand Shiruba better.

By nature humans fear what they don’t understand after all.

Izuku hopes he’ll be able to help Shouto to same way his father had helped him. For now though, he supposes he’ll let his friend off the hook. Shouto had just returned from a relatively dangerous mission and he should relax rather that try to overcome his fears.

That can come later. Izuku promises himself that.

“I’m sure you’ll get used to having it around Shouto.” Izuku reassures his friend, although Shouto doesn’t look entirely convinced, Izuku doesn’t get the chance to continue on the matter.

Shouto looks towards his father, who had been watching them banter with and amused smile on his face, and asks, “How are you doing sir?”

Shouto’s question apparently wakes his father from whatever daydream had been occupying his mind. “I feel a lot better, thanks to Izuku’s tender love and care.” His father responds in a warm yet teasing way.

Izuku blushes brightly and hides his face behind his hands, prompting laughter from his father. Shouto, the traitor, looks relieved to have the attention off of him. He’ll return the favour one day, mark his words.

Despite the sudden change in subject and his burning embarrassment, he is suddenly reminded of something else he was supposed to do. Izuku scolds himself for being so absentminded, at least his father had a legitimate reasoning for it.

He swiftly raises to stand, surprising his company and knocking off Shiruba who had been resting it’s head on his lap. “Sorry, but I just remembered something quite important.” Izuku says willing his blush to disappear, “Do you mind if I leave for a moment, papa?”

Father shakes his head, calmly informing him to not be late for dinner, where they would celebrate the success of their mission with Shouto’s favourite food. Izuku hurries out after saying goodbye to Shouto and grabbing an envelope he had prepared the previous evening, he doesn’t want to give his father the time to change his mind about letting him leave on his own.

Yet despite his hurry, Izuku could feel a pair of eyes follow him until he’s out of sight.

Izuku for the umpteenth time feels grateful for the wonderful weather. It eases the guilt of having the other wait outside for so long a little.

Sitting all alone on the edge of the premises is Uraraka Ochako, the new ‘emissary’ he had properly met for the first time the previous day. The girl looks incredibly nervous, even more so than the last time he had seen her, fidgeting with her fingers and not looking up from the ground.

Another person his age… Izuku almost dearly wants to act around her the same way he does around Shouto. But he knows that their bond must remain exclusively professional, since the girl is still studying to become a hero. Getting attached to someone in that world is dangerous. He already has one friend too many in it, Mirio having ended up as the sole exception to his self imposed rule.

Izuku calms whatever lingering nerves he had and steels himself, rubbing the plain white paper envelope between his fingers. He calls out to the other to finally make his presence known.

Uraraka looks up in surprise and at the sight of him approaching she makes a deep bow.

“G-good evening Denka!” She says.

Izuku has to suppress the urge to sigh and blush at the same time, it seems yet another person had picked up the title the henchmen had chosen for him. The title is so reverent, it’s a little embarrassing, though not as embarrassing as his father’s teasing sometimes. Izuku reminds himself of that to keep calm.

“Good evening, I thank you for your patience.” Izuku greets back in a serious tone and hands her the envelope containing the payment for her service.

Uraraka eyes the envelopes almost suspiciously for a moment, as if it would jump out of his hand and bite her, before taking it with hurried movements. Uraraka bows deeply yet again and turns to leave but Izuku stops her before she can.

“Wait just a moment,” Izuku calls after her and Uraraka nearly jumps a foot into the air, “Aren’t you going to see what’s inside before you leave?”

Uraraka turns around and looks at him with a confused expression on her face. “I’m… sorry?”

Izuku feels a bit of disbelief when he figures out that the girl really doesn’t know what he means. Honestly, don’t they teach you those things in school?

“Whenever someone pays you for something in this world you should always check what’s inside first, otherwise you’ll get scammed before you know it.” Izuku semi patiently explains.

Uraraka’s eyes grow wide as if she is told something horrible and she flails to open the envelope handed to her in a hurry. Her hands tremble when she takes out a neat stack of yen, when she counts it with surprising speed her eyes somehow manages to widen even further as she gapes at him.

“A hundred thousand yen?! This is way too much!” She exclaims in surprise, “This must be a mistake!”

Izuku knows he must be making a pretty good imitation of the other’s previous expression as he watches the girl split the pile of bills in two and hand him the largest stack. Are heroes really this gullible? Did Uraraka really want to hand back so much money to a person she doesn’t know in any other way than ‘the villain leader’?

Izuku is suddenly reminded that the other is not from the same world as he is, that not every child is taught about the darkest inner workings of the underworld. That the way of life in which he has been made aware of isn’t something they teach about in regular schools or perhaps UA.

Heroes… Izuku doesn’t understand them at all. He shakes his head in denial of the pile of money offered back to him, “Keep it.”

“B-but I can’t this-”

“- is money you earned by doing something very dangerous.” Izuku interrupts.

Uraraka blinks bemusedly, though she does retract her outstretched hand. Izuku allows himself to sigh this time, “just take the money, all of it, you shouldn’t be asking why.”

“But I just don’t understand, why so much?” Uraraka asks looking much bolder then she previously did.

“You betrayed your friends by doing this, didn’t you?” Izuku says not knowing how to soften the blow, Uraraka actually flinches a little. “I’m very grateful for you help, sincerely so.”

Izuku looks away thoughtfully, “I know, to do something like that you must be very desperate. Giving you as much as possible without being too suspicious is the least I can do.”

Uraraka looks like she wants to say something but Izuku interrupts before she can, “You should leave, now.”

He looks her straight in the eye hoping to convince her he’s serious. To his relief she doesn’t attempt to say anything else, Uraraka merely stuffs the money back into the envelope and bow for the third time during their short meeting. She then leaves in a hurry without another word.

Just as she disappears from view, a Noumu rounds the corner. It’s much more intimidating then Shiruba, looking like a strange cross between a snake and a bird. It’s beaked head attached to a long neck lowers itself when it sees him and the unnamed Noumu moves on with it’s patrol.

Uraraka had been gone just on time.

Chapter Text

After the brief commotion that always surrounds the more important missions everything calmed down again. The mornings returned to their usual peaceful quiet and the less early birds happily greet Izuku when he walks though the many winding hallways after a rather late breakfast. Even the Noumu patrolling the grounds seem to have calmed, seeing any of them other then Shiruba on a daily basis has returned to a rarity yet again.

All and all there is suddenly very little to do and for the first time in quite a while Izuku is feeling bored, especially with the knowledge of the approaching UA sports festival. Having something to look forward to seems to make time crawl by at a snails pace. He knows he could probably go and do whatever comes to mind with his father, in fact his father would probably be ecstatic to spend ‘quality time’ with him, but Izuku is very aware that the amount of work his father has is probably more important.

Important for the management of their family that is, his father would drop literally anything if Izuku as much as hints for it, much to Kurogiri and basically everyone else’s consternation.

It’s exactly for that reason that Izuku avoids mentioning anything even close to the fact he’s bored when in close vicinity of his extremely doting father. Instead he wanders around and helps here and there whenever he can.

Today however, the peace and quiet has spread to the point where everyone has convinced themselves they don’t need any help from their ‘Denka’ and that they can handle everything on their own. ‘We don’t want to bother you with these pointless little things, Denka.’ Bah.

Izuku doesn’t want to be coddled like that, especially by them, and for all it’s worth he wants to be depended on, he yearns for a little more responsibility. But no matter how hard he wishes, the fact that he’s a fifteen year old teenager looms over his head and is impossible to miss, there is no way that his father will allow him to ‘sacrifice’ even a little of his ‘precious childhood’ to help his family. If only there was someone to rant to…

Izuku stops in his tracks, his feet having brought him ways into the lush forest surrounding his home, the mild rustling of leaves behind him confirms he’s not alone, his silver-coloured shadow is still there. Izuku pivots around on his heel and drapes himself over Shiruba’s long muscular neck, the being doesn’t even budge a bit at the added weight. He allows himself to groan dramatically just this once, the lack of human eyes and ears present to hear somehow lifts whatever reservations he has on complaining like the bored teenager he is.

Shiruba listens with patience while Izuku rambles to it mindlessly. For some reason Izuku almost feels like the being is amused yet understanding, a strange mix of emotions entirely too human for a being that should have been entirely incapable of them. It’s the tragic part of the Noumu, their inability to think for themselves, that Izuku hates about them the most. But Shiruba is strange in any shape you could imagine, human yet not, terrifying but eerily beautiful, protective in a way none of the other Noumu can manage, warm and understanding. Sometimes Shiruba almost reminds Izuku of his father, other times Izuku can almost sense something like sympathy from the being.
But most importantly, no matter what Izuku always felt comfortable around Shiruba. He feels calm and safe in a way that usually only his father could bring forth.

By the time he’s done with his tirade he feels a little better, finally being able get all of the frustration out of his system did him well. At some point in time they had taken seat at the base of one peculiarly large tree, Shiruba serving as the back of a somewhat uncomfortable couch, it’s hard armour not the most comfortable thing the rest ones back against but it was still an better option then rough tree bark. Izuku sighs deeply and turns towards Shiruba’s head resting next to him. He can’t resist the temptation to run his fingers over the smooth edges of it’s long sharp ears.

Despite knowing that it can’t answer Izuku whispers to it, “What should I do?”

As expected no answer comes, the only response is the subtle twitching of Shiruba’s ears that Izuku can feel beneath his fingertips. It’s solid dark eyes stare back at him and when Izuku doesn’t look away it sighs deeply trough it’s nose. If he didn’t know better Izuku would have thought that it was Shiruba’s way of apologizing.

Before Izuku could do anything else he hears a loud booming sound, as if lightning struck a tree somewhere near. Judging from Shiruba’s reaction, it raised it’s head towards the point of ‘impact’ but otherwise stayed calm, whatever made the noise wasn’t a real threat. However it couldn’t have been the weather either, the sky is tranquil, the wind is gentle and the sun still filters through the green canopy shielding them from the heat.

Yet Izuku’s curiosity is peaked, the adventurous idea of figuring out this ‘mystery’ became something big in his bored mind. With a wide boyish grin he turns back to Shiruba, who somehow managed to look exasperated.

“Let’s go see what that was!” Izuku exclaims and without any further ado he jumps to his feet and runs off wherever the sound could have come from.

He doesn’t have to turn around to know that his silver coloured guardian spirit is following behind, just like him it has nothing better to do.

As it turns out, the source of the commotion wasn’t anything as spectacular nor as mysterious as he had first imagined. Izuku figures as much when he arrives at a clearing in the forest often used for training.

Laying on his back in the middle of a large scorched circle is Shouto and even with the distance between them Izuku can clearly see his chest heaving. Surprisingly the many training dummies littered around are still standing, looking a little worn but not more so then usual. Izuku can see Shiruba’s blurry figure appear in the corner of his eyes, he quietly gestures for it to stay down and crouches back into the greenery himself. He doesn’t want to disturb whatever focus his friend has build and spying from a distance, he supposes, is much more entertaining.

Shouto doesn’t move for a moment or two, but before Izuku could muster up some concern he suddenly jumps upright. He totters a little before straightening up and dusting his deep blue training garb. With some rather painful looking stretches, Shouto’s passive face scrunches up just a little suggesting discomfort, he gets back into a stance that vaguely reminds Izuku of kendo, the biggest difference being that both of Shouto’s hands are held separate from one another and are loosely curled up around nothing but air instead of the usual bokken.

For a while nothing happens and Izuku finds himself leaning forward a little in anticipation, just what was Shouto planning to do with a strange stance like that?

Before long Izuku can see faint sparks of fire begin to dance around his left arm and misty frost flow along the right. Shouto takes a deep breath and clenches both his fists, Ice and fire appears to solidify into two thin blades, their appearance wavers a little but they seem stable enough. What he witnesses is a magnificent display of control over Shouto’s complex Quirk.

Izuku simply cannot withhold his amazement, with an excited gasp he jumps up from his hiding place.

“Shouto that’s amazing!”

His poor friend apparently hadn’t had a single clue about his spying audience, Shouto freezes on the spot, the once relatively stable ‘blades’ evaporate, the elements effectively cancelling each other out. It is a shame, but Izuku hardly gives himself the opportunity to feel guilt. Many different questions go through his mind. Was whatever he just witnessed the thing Shouto had been secretively working on for so long? It looked amazing, but what was it exactly?

Instead of bombarding his shell-shocked friend with the many theories running trough his mind, Izuku decides to calm himself down, do the polite thing and apologize. His apologies have the desired effect of breaking Shouto out of whatever spell he had been under, though despite Izuku’s expectations of anger his friend simply looks sheepish for not noticing him sooner.

“My spying skills are unrivalled Shouto, it’s not your fault!” Is Izuku’s successful attempt at lightening the mood.

The both of them laugh, or more accurately in Shouto’s case; slightly smiled, and Izuku ends up getting herded into taking seat on the poor tree Shouto utterly decimated.

“I originally wanted to work on this a little more before showing you but…” Shouto begins, he carefully steps back into position in front of Izuku and rolls his shoulders, “This will have to do.”

Similarly to earlier, Shouto takes a deep breath and rematerialized the twin ‘blades’. Now that he’s closer, Izuku can feel a strange static fill the air, likely caused by the sheer difference in temperature caused by his friend. Just like before the blades waver a little in appearance before stabilizing.

“Please watch closely.” Shouto says, his voice sounding slightly strained.

With a powerful slash the nearest training dummy is cut cleanly in two, then four pieces. The blades effortlessly splitting the wood with little sound has Izuku both amazed and slightly curious as to what had caused the noise earlier. He gets his answer when hardly a breath later a similar sound is heard and Shouto falls to his knees with a pained grunt. Izuku doesn’t hesitate a second and rushes to his side but Shouto stops him before he can come near.

“Don’t!” Shouto gasps, “I’m fine, this is normal.”

‘It doesn’t look normal to me’ Izuku would like to say but he keeps his words to himself. Seeing to Shouto’s health is more important then arguing about it. So this time Izuku listens and forces himself to stay put, waiting for Shouto to catch his breath yet again. Causing his friend any more stress will only be counterproductive.

A flash of silver however catches his eye, it’s Shiruba, he had complete forgotten about his silver shadow. Of course the being so concerned with Izuku’s safety would become anxious with the situation they’re in, whatever that situation may be. He decides to do what he hopes is the smart thing and subtly signal to Shiruba to stay where it is, Shouto is not comfortable around it after all.

It appears though, that his decision wasn’t the smartest one. Shiruba seems to completely ignore his hand signals and Shouto starts to notice Izuku’s increasingly frantic movement.

Izuku’s once boring day was becoming a lot more exciting, just not in the way Izuku would have liked. ‘Be careful what you ask for’ they say and at the moment Izuku couldn’t agree more.

“Everything is alright Shiruba!” Izuku yells, though he’s not very sure if he’s speaking the truth, “Stay over there!”

Thankfully Shiruba stops halfway there, it’s blank eyes staring a him in a way that reminds Izuku of his father whenever he just knows Izuku has lied. How it can pull such a specific gaze mystifies him, but frankly he is more concerned with his friend who is still crouched on the ground in pain.

Shouto comes across a little more tense than he had before, but otherwise seems unbothered by Shiruba’s presence. In fact he seems to ignore it, much to Izuku’s amazement.

“Shouto are you injured?”

It takes Shouto a moment to answer, “No, I’m fine, it’s just mild backlash.”

The words of his friend do little to placate him, yet this time when he comes closer Shouto doesn’t stop him and allows Izuku to check his arms for any injuries. Like many training sessions before he is grateful for the lessons in first aid he is following, it allows him to be quick and thorough in his examination. Luckily there aren’t any deep flesh wounds and there is nothing evident that Izuku can find that would cause his friend visible pain. This calms his concerns more then his friends words could.

“What happened?” Izuku asks, feeling much more calm now.

“Mild quirk backlash,” Shouto repeats, but he elaborates when Izuku raises an sceptical eyebrow, “This happens often whenever I try to use this technique, I haven’t been able to perfect it yet. I’m sorry to have worried you.”

Shouto’s voice evens out little by little as he talks. By the time he finished his explanation the pain in his voice is as good as gone and it returns to the usual calm tone Izuku is accustomed to. Yet there is still one thing on Izuku’s mind he has to be sure of.

“What about Shiruba?”

Shouto blinks at him and turns his head slightly to look at the previous subject of his nightmares, or so Izuku thought. His friend stays calm though, he can see traces of discomfort in Shouto’s eyes when he turns back his way but otherwise his friend seems perfectly fine.

“I can’t stay afraid of it forever.” Shouto finally answers, “I’m your left hand man after all.”

Izuku is left slightly speechless, had he really heard that right? After all these years Shouto still hasn’t changed his mind in the slightest? He couldn’t be joking right?

He couldn’t be, there is not a single trace of deception that Izuku can find and lying is hardly something Shouto can manage properly, he is perhaps the most earnest, down to earth person Izuku has ever met. While his friend may seem hard to read he actually wears his heart on his sleeve.

Knowing this however doesn’t make Izuku feel any better, both embarrassment and fear run rampant trough his veins, Shouto has to be aware of the kind of world they live in, promises like that will either follow you into the grave or put you in it.

“Izuku, have I-?”

“-We should have a spar Shouto!” Izuku blurts out, interrupting Shouto.

One would think that after a lifetime of living with someone like his father, Izuku would be more capable of dealing with embarrassment. Sadly to say that this is not the case, he doesn’t know why but in the face of powerful emotions he instantly becomes a complete mess.

“Okay.” Shouto complies without a single complaint, bless him.

Izuku wouldn’t know what to do without him.

The rules of their spar were simple, the first person the have their back hit the ground loses and most importantly; no quirks allowed. Someone cannot just depend on their quirks in every situation, so hand-to-hand combat is just as, if not more important then anything else. Quirks are nothing more then additional weapons, an important lesson taught to him by his father and reinforced by Spatiel’s merciless beating.

However it is all too easy to forget this when you posses a powerful quirk, especially when this quirk requires a lot of training to use properly. This is exactly the reason why Izuku managed to floor Shouto in a manner of minutes.

“I yield.” Shouto says while sounding a bit choked.

Unsurprising considering the fact that Izuku is pinning Shouto’s arms behind his back with a tight hold, effectively pinning his friend face down into the unforgiving earth. At the admission of defeat Izuku quickly releases him and hurries to help him stand.

Shouto wasn’t the only one who has been working hard lately, their position in their family isn’t filled by just lolling around and doing nothing.

Izuku pats some leftover dirt off of Shouto’s clothes, “We should go back inside and freshen up a little.”

Shouto nods, “Right, I have linguistic lessons in about an hour.”

“An hour?! Shouto!”

“Yes?”

“Don’t overwork yourself!”

“…Sorry.”

In the end Shouto managed to convince Izuku into agreeing to let him go to the his classes, with the agreement that he should at least sit down and rest for half an hour. That behind them they make their way across the familiar maze of wooden hallways with ease born from years of getting horribly lost. Shiruba, the ever faithful silver shadow, quietly trails behind them from a distance, but neither he nor Shouto pay it any mind.

They were talking about their spar and what to improve on next time, when Izuku spots his father sitting in a sunny spot on the porch of the main house. He was about to call out to him but Shouto stops him with a touch to the shoulder before he could.

“He’s asleep.” Shouto says with a finger to his lips.

Sure enough, when Izuku takes another look he sees that his father is indeed slumbering time away surrounded by paperwork. Said papers immediately explaining the reason why, father falling asleep over his work is a common occurrence by now. Izuku nods to Shouto in gratitude, he stage whispers ‘thank you for telling me’ to his friend, he gets a small smile in return.

They sneak over to his father side with caution in each step, father is a extremely light sleeper after all, so that Izuku has the opportunity to peak into the many papers his father had probably been reading. Izuku signals with pointing gestures to Shouto to keep watch and they both tap their chests to show that the plan is understood. At times like this, Izuku is very glad to have been taught these many gestures by his father since he was young and equally happy to have passed them onto his friend.

Most of the copious amount of papers only include a bunch of numbers, their financial transactions, and appear so bland that Izuku isn’t at all surprised that his father fell asleep while reading them. Five minutes later and the only papers he hasn’t skimmed over yet are the once resting on his sleeping fathers lap.

Sometimes you have to take risks in order to succeed, right?

Without much hesitation Izuku snags them away with one fast swoop and with bathed breath he waits for bright peridot to appear behind closed eyelids. Nothing happens, success! Izuku allows himself a short mental victory dance before he dives into his loot.

Luckily these are worth the trouble, the papers in his hands detail many reports on their recent requites and on arduous negotiations with third parties. One particular section catches his eye; ‘Another attempt at establishing contact with “Hero Killer: Stain” has failed, Stain appears to avoid any attempts made on negotiation, the man is known to work solitarily. There is evidence that has me consider categorizing the man as an enemy, however further research on the motivations of Stain are required…’.

Hero killer Stain, it sounds quite terrifying. What type of person would willingly allow themselves to be categorized in such a blatantly villainous way?

“A person who refuses to bother with the opinion of others.” A familiar voice says right beside him.

Izuku could swear his heart spontaneously decided to climb up his throat and straight out of his mouth in sheer surprise. He swiftly turns around and is instantly met with a pair of slightly clouded peridot green, his father is awake. Wide awake. Luckily it appears that he isn’t at all angry at him for snooping around in his paperwork. Still, Izuku won’t risk it, he meekly hands back the pile of papers he had been reading back to the always patient hands of his father. His usual warm chuckle at his expanse also calms his rabbit heart a little, that doesn’t mean that he won’t fight the urge to sigh in relief, it’s better not to feed his father’s inner predator biting at every sign of weakness.

“How are you so sure?” Izuku asks, hoping to divert his father’s attention away from his sneaking around. Luckily for him father takes the bait, with the necessary amusement, which Izuku would take over concern or anger any day.

“I spoke with the man once.” Father answers plainly.

Izuku does a double take, his expression must have been funny because his fathers amused grin transforms into laughter. The slightly devious glint in his father’s eyes tells Izuku enough, he was holding that important piece of information behind on purpose. The reason why he isn’t sure of, but whatever the reason may be, it’s probably a good one. Empathises on ‘probably’.

It won’t be the first time father held something important back for his own amusement.

Izuku’s attempt at saving himself by changing the subject can safely be considered a failure, but he’ll definitely manage to outsmart his father next time. With renewed determination fresh in his mind to banish any hesitation he looks back at the source of his playful embarrassment. Father is restacking all of the copious papers in a unidentifiable order with swift and practised movements, every stack equally neat as the previous, not a single snag or crook in sight.

Now is not the time to be jealous of that, Izuku mentally admonishes himself.

“Why did you fall asleep again papa, are you not feeling well?” Izuku asks.

The aforementioned looks back his way with a strange expression on his face, though it fades before Izuku could properly identify it.

“No I’m fine,” Father answers before he wistfully turns his gaze back at the sky, “The sun had lulled me straight to sleep.”

He pats the paperwork now neatly stacked on his lap, “And it’s not like these are interesting enough to keep me awake.”

Of course, Izuku totally should have seen that one coming. He almost wishes he could be carefree enough to call critical subjects boring and fall asleep over equally critical paperwork. Yet at the same time, he knows just how old his father really is. He can hardly imagine how many things he must have gone through, but he does know how living alone for so long can do awful things to a person, what living for so long in the first place can do to someone. Father and boredom are age-old enemies.

Izuku lowers his eyes in guilt, just how much is his father putting up with for his sake?

“There is no need to read them if it isn’t necessary.” Izuku mumbles but somehow he is still heard.

“Don’t worry about someone like me Izuku, it won’t do you any good.” His father says and Izuku immediately has to suppress and angry retort, “Besides I gladly work through the most boring things and fall asleep over paperwork if it’s for you.”

And instantaneously all the anger drains away to be replaced with an almost exasperated sense of remorse. Izuku shoulders visibly sag under the invisible weight of concern. If this is what father feels like every time he does something remotely dangerous, than he can understand where all the fretting comes from.

He can see his father reach out to him and try to say something when Shouto suddenly appears out of nowhere with a tray of tea in his steady hands.

“Shouto! Where did you go?” Izuku calls out, all to willing to just drop the subject all together, “And why didn’t you warn me that father woke up?”

Shouto shrugs lightly, “I wanted to, but Sensei signalled to me to go grab tea instead.”

Ah, the reminder of where their signalling skills come from. Naturally Shouto would follow father’s orders over his own, the traitor. Izuku pouts when Shouto moves in front of them to hand them their drinks, but still thanks him politely and takes what’s offered to him. A sip from the tea, that’s actually iced-tea thank goodness, confirms it’s actually his favourite. Shouto is forgiven, for now anyways.

Whatever heaviness remaining in the air dissipates when Shiruba pops up with an oddly happy sound carrying a tray with four slices freshly baked cake. Freshly cooled vanilla cake, to be exact, perfect for a warm afternoon. Whatever otherworldly guardian deity watching over them must have sensed their distress and spontaneously blessed them with happiness in the form of something edible.

Izuku happily feeds Shiruba pieces of the remaining slice of cake in gratitude. His company also enjoys their wonderful treats in a companionable silence. That is until father asks them where all of that dirt on Izuku’s clothes come from, from then on the previous silence is filled with both Shouto and him recounting their early afternoon with the occasional bout of laughter.

Before long their tea cups and plates are empty, and Shouto all but jumps up with the realisation that he’s late for his lessons. A fact Izuku can honestly say he doesn’t feel guilty about at all, despite his partial hand in it. For all it’s worth his friend got the rest he obviously needed, he can call that mission, at the very least, a success.

Though it may also be a petty form of revenge, Izuku certainly didn’t get that from a stranger.

The unknowing source of his personality defects gets up with him, at a much more sedate pace than Shouto had naturally. Yet before Izuku could return to his day filled with boredom his father winds his arms around his shoulders from behind, and nuzzles his hair in a comforting gesture.

“If there’s anywhere you’d like to go this evening Izuku, I’d love to come along.”

Izuku turns towards his father, who stares back at him with that strange unidentifiable gaze again, and smiles. How he had known about his crippling boredom, Izuku doesn’t know, nevertheless he’s grateful for the offer.

“I’ll remember that, thank you papa.”

All too soon Izuku is back to walking through the hallways. His company has returned to just the ever silent shadow, Shiruba. Shouto had ran off to his lessons and father had returned to his duties, hopefully staying awake long enough to finish all of them this time.

Izuku doesn’t mind being alone with his thoughts. The afternoon had suddenly become quite eventful and the promise his father had made to him rings trough his mind, having no requirement to be social gives him the opportunity to think.

‘If there’s anywhere he’d like to go’. He ponders on it for a moment, yet nothing seems to immediately come to mind. He could just stay home and wait for the next day, but now that he had a taste of excitement the monotone of the remainder of the day is just bound to be even more mind-numbing then before. No, just staying home and do nothing isn’t a option. Nor is it an option to simply blurt out whatever random place that comes to mind, his father would know and the awkward silence that without a doubt come to be would probably be even worse then boredom. Not to forget the teasing he would get from his ever loving and seemingly omnipotent father.

Desperation starts to sneak up on him as he tries and fails to find the answer. Should he just suck it up and decline? Would sparing himself any possible embarrassment be worth it?

A last resort is necessary in a situation like this. Izuku nods to himself and turns around to his ‘last resort’ only to see it right in front of his face. Shiruba is hardly scary to him anymore, but it’s face being so close all of a sudden gave him a minor heart-attack, narrowly he only just managed to prevent himself from screaming like a damsel in distress. If his heart skipping a beat didn’t summon his bloodhound of a father, than him screaming most definitely would.

Shiruba moved back a respectful distance as he slowly relaxed again, the being even managing to give an air of guilt, which in turn made Izuku feel bad.

“It’s fine,” Izuku tells it while reaching out a hand to pat it on the forehead, “I’m fine, you just scared me a little, that’s all.”

He stands there in silence, patting Shiruba’s head while seconds pass by. It’s suddenly so quiet he can almost hear the grandfather clock tick from the other side of the building.

Tick-Tock-Tick-Tock…

“Say Shiruba…”  Izuku starts feeling all too awkward with the sudden situation, or lack thereof, “…Where do you think papa and I should go this evening?”

As expected Shiruba doesn’t answer. Izuku sighs deeply, he wasn’t getting anywhere like this. He was just about to turn around and continue on his way when Shiruba suddenly turns it’s head towards… the wall? He can’t help but look at it feeling a floored at the strange behaviour, there is nothing out of place on the smooth wood, everything looked exactly the same. Yet when he was about to take a closer look, just to sate his curiosity, he is stopped by Shiruba’s large frame.

“Shiruba?”

It doesn’t respond, instead it raises to and even greater height to stand on it’s hind legs, it’s clawed hand points towards the wall as it’s head turns to look at him expectantly. The wall? There is nothing there as far as he can see, why is it pointing at-?

No not the wall, it’s pointing towards, the west?

The west, the west…

Suddenly it comes to him, of course! The west, Dagobah beach is in the west, he hadn’t visited the place with his father yet. In all the uproar with the USJ mission he had completely forgotten. Izuku grins widely at his helpful silver shadow.

“Thank you!” He hugs it tightly, even though it’s chest plates dig into his face uncomfortably. With determination in mind Izuku reaches for Shiruba’s face and lowers it to his eyelevel, “Take me to papa, please!”

No time to lose, he climbs onto it’s back and holds on tightly as it runs off. Usually he’s forbidden to ride it’s, or anything else’s, back indoors, but today Izuku allows himself to be rebellious. It’ll be fine if they don’t damage anything right?

Naturally his father hadn’t been amused about him racing trough the hallways, though it could have been worse. Father only worries about his safety after all, manners leave him cold for some reason. Kurogiri on the other hand would have given him a stern talking to had he busted him in the act. An hour long preach was the last thing Izuku wanted.

Though any bad mood his father could have been in from his stunt was utterly vanquished once he heard about his plans. In fact, father seemed even more ecstatic about it all then he did. An impressive feat, considering he himself had been dying to visit for a while now. Circumstances had forced him to forget about his plans and the beach visit was pushed to the back of his mind to make room for more important matters.

The heavy weight haunting him lately is instantly lifted once he sees the smile appear on his father’s face. Somehow the expression makes him seem oddly young, the implication behind the thought is something he’d rather not entertain. Happy times, happy thoughts.

The vibrant colours of the evening sky paints the ocean in an orange glaze, the waves sparkle under the setting sun. The scenery is like it came straight out of a painting, it takes his breath away in the most pleasant sense possible.

Izuku automatically reaches out to help his father when they reach the stone steps leading towards soft white sand, the gesture is entirely habitual but apparently not unwanted. Father accepts the support without question, his hazy eyes gaze unblinkingly at the horizon. Once they have both safely taken seat on the sand, Shiruba appears from behind them and rushes towards the ocean with rather uncharacteristic energy. It seems that even their bodyguard cannot resist the effects of the carefree atmosphere.

Izuku watches the silver armoured guardian carefully inspect the water edge for a while. Somehow sitting there by his father’s side gives him a sense of nostalgia and briefly he remembers the fun he had cleaning the beach with his new heroic friend. He watches the sun touch the horizon with a sense of finality.

“I used to visit this beach with Inko quite often,” Father suddenly says, instantly grabbing his attention, “She loved how peaceful this place always is, and so did I. Yet no matter how beautiful the sight is, it doesn’t feel the same when I gaze at it alone.”

Forlorn, empty, longing, loneliness. It is the impression he gets when he looks at what little he can see of his father’s eyes. His wild white hair similar to his own had grown longer over the years, yet father appears to be entirely unbothered by it. Like so many things it stopped mattering. The sheer emotion in the green eyes painted golden are offset entirely by the smile on his face. An honest smile, one that he doesn’t know what to think of.

No matter how cruel it might seem, he would have rather had him crying in his obvious agony. Tears would have made him seem so much more human.

“Did you decide to look for it on your own, Izuku?”

He jumps a little when his attention is redirected by his father’s sudden vague question. His eyes meet misty peridot green when his father finally turns towards him properly.

“I did,” Izuku answers, hoping to have understood the inquiry, “You mentioned it once at mama’s memorial, I got really curious.”

Somehow, for whatever reason, the expression on father’s face clears as soon as he finished answering. The gleam in nearsighted eyes go from desolate to something serene yet energetic. His broad smile is all he gets to see before he’s enveloped in a warm hug. Despite being raised by him and thus knowing him for his entire life, Izuku still can’t even begin to understand his father’s strange mood-swings.

Nevertheless he allows himself to enjoy every minute spend in peace. When his father doesn’t say anything for a while, Izuku’s eyes wander back towards the ocean and the sun ever so slowly inching away. Almost immediately he notices Shiruba frolicking about in the water like an energetic child and he doesn’t bother stopping the laugh from bursting forth. His laughter is followed by his father’s, who must have caught onto the same scene.

“I didn’t even know it liked water so much.” Izuku tells his father who hums in response.

“Shiruba is strange like that,” Father responds, “This morning it delivered me a tray with tea and refused to leave until I finished it.”

“And you accepted?”

“I had to, my work was strategically blocked from my reach, it left me with no other choice but to admit defeat and suffer through a cup of freshly set chamomile tea.”

Let it not be mentioned that father actually loves herbal tea from the bottom of his heart. Let it also not be mentioned that Izuku had told Kurogiri that he was worried about his father and had totally unknowingly, mind you, planted the idea of having Shiruba disrupt father’s work in the loyal man’s head. Boredom does a lot to people.

That his father gave in after a mock struggle is only an convenient coincidence. Izuku knocks his head back to loosen the hold and look up at his father.

“Did you mind?” He asks.

“Not in the slightest.”

Their strange little moment is disrupted when Shiruba finally returned on land and spontaneously decided to shake off excess salt water right next to them like a drenched dog. Their peaceful evening together ends in laughter and Izuku feels minute pride at having dispelled the sorrow weighing down on his beloved father’s soul, even if he didn’t really understand how.

Chapter Text

For the longest time Izuku had been convinced that he didn’t suffer from social anxiety, dealing with his large extended family ensured that he has no issues when dealing with people, and crowds shouldn’t be much of a bother either as he’d dealt with armies worth of people and he had even lead them once or twice.

Yet the crowd of his family and the crowd of people that occupy the many cities of Japan are two entirely different things. Perhaps it’s because he had been a bit shielded in his early childhood or perhaps it’s because of the fact that for most of his life he hardly ever leaves the mountain-range he’d been raised in. Cities are incredibly intimidating and even more overwhelming. The fast pace of daily life where everything and yet absolutely nothing is expected of you, the currents of time drags one under if they are caught unprepared.

However, Izuku is anything but unprepared. Father most certainly hasn’t spoiled him in that aspect, he is taught from very early on how to take care of himself and he’s much more self-efficient that most of his age.

There isn’t any reason for him not to be able to deal with an excited crowd like this all on his own. All alone, yet surrounded by people. Completely isolated yet probably watched by the few or many that know of him, of his family.

Izuku is forcefully pulled out of his escalating thoughts when someone bumps into him. He’s briefly thorn between thanking and apologizing to the person, but before he could even open his mouth the person is out of sight.

He’s standing somewhere in the plaza located before the entrance of the dome where the UA sportsfestival will be held in. Through the massive crowd making their way inside he cannot even see where the entrance exactly is. Izuku had never found himself in the middle of such a massive fast moving crowd before. Adrenaline forces his heart to beat fast and his breath to push their way out of his lungs in brief, harsh gasps.

In this massive current of people, Izuku is drowning.

Yet somehow he manages to briefly entertain the possibility of his father noticing his panic, that he would somehow rush to his side and safe him from the mass of people clogging his breath. Somehow the thought of his father glaring everyone within a kilometre radius to death is sobering enough for him to think rationally again. A bright happy day like this shouldn’t end in a massacre and despite the possible horror of such a scene, thinking about his father puts a smile on his face. It helps him to feel a little less alone.

Izuku takes a quick look around to check his surroundings, but his short height doesn’t really help his ability to tell where exactly he might be. Loitering around and blocking everyone’s way certainly isn’t an option either, so he picks the next best thing. He steels himself and proceeds to push his way through the dense crowds, he doesn’t bother apologizing to everyone he pushes aside. They wouldn’t be able to hear him anyway.

To his luck he sees a relatively quiet entrance to the dome and Izuku hopes it isn’t some type of ‘employees only’ entrance while he makes his way inside.

Compared to the deafening noise outside the silence indoors is a blessing, the further he moves in the quieter it gets. It’s a huge relief to be able to properly hear himself think again. Yet the remaining adrenaline forces him to keep moving, his legs ache to take him to safety and Izuku can barely repress the urge to break out in a wild sprint. If he doesn’t look out where he goes he might just get lost.

That would be immensely troublesome. Being caught lost in a hallway he’s probably not even authorised to be in. The story of his panic likely wouldn’t get him far if he’s busted. After all, the USJ incident forced the heroes to be on their toes, or so the reports had said. Security at the sportsfestival is beefed up to the extreme.

Right, getting lost would be a real problem. He should hurry towards the stadium and find his seat and enjoy the show. Easy, right?

Wrong. As the last dredges of adrenaline leaves him, Izuku comes to a horrifying conclusion, he has absolutely no idea where he is. He had blindly moved through seemingly endless expanses of modern stone hallways. He’s lost.

Despite the increasingly dire situation, Izuku does his best to remain calm. Panic had brought him into this fine mess to begin with and only a fool would make the same mistake twice.

First lesson when lost, take in your environment and seek clues that might clarify your location. Except there’s nothing to see, the only thing out of place is a printed number on the wall but it doesn’t mean anything to him.

Second lesson, ask for assistance in dire times. Another look around reaffirmed his previous quick look around, there is literally nothing. Though this might mean that the hallways is unused, which in turn makes it a relatively safe place to catch his breath and properly think. Like that wasn’t what he was doing already.

Third lesson, when lost in an unknown environment, stay on your guard. There is little else he could do at the moment. Even though the fact that he’s in a random empty hallway in the middle of a sports-stadium crowded by people and most of all heroes, wannabe and professional ones, made the chance of meeting anyone dangerous incredibly slim. Nevertheless Izuku doesn’t want to push his luck, the fact that these people called themselves heroes or heroes-in-training didn’t make them actual saviours.

Izuku heaves a deep sight and makes his decision, he couldn’t do anything else but keep moving. If he get’s caught somewhere he shouldn’t be on accident he could always play the card of being hopelessly lost. That should be easy, it’s the truth.

Izuku would like to punch whoever designed the damned building. Five minutes feel like an eternity when it’s spend wandering lost in hallways that all look the same. This must be what Shouto felt like when he got lost in their home back when they were nine.

If only he wasn’t alone.

Like a blessed god-send curse from a deity that must surely hate his guts, he hears the faint sound of excited chattering. The only problem with this blessing was the fact that it came from behind a solid door and the sign beside it said ‘waiting room’. Izuku is willing to bet both his arms that it’s not a waiting room for random guests.

There isn’t any other way to go about it, he has to go in. He swallows all of his contempt at the horrid situation he got himself into and opens the door slowly with an all too honest expression of apprehension. Hopefully the people inside are the helpful, likeable heroic types like Mirio.

The moment Izuku opened the door far enough to be seen, the entire room goes silent but not for too long. A tall, oddly square boy his age practically races towards his frozen form and bows down to speak to him directly.

“Are you allowed to be here? If not leave immediately, this room is not for guests!” The boy says to him and Izuku is honest to say he feels a little attacked. The boy, who is staring at him expectantly, isn’t a stranger though. He recognizes him as Ingenium’s younger brother, Iida Tenya.

“I… got lost…” Izuku stammers out but his attempt at explaining himself gets interrupted by an energetic pink girl.

“Whoa! You totally look like a rich kid though!”

“Hey you’re right! What are you doing here on your own?” A boy with a black thunderbolt in his hair.

“I sense a mysterious air about you.” A boy with a strange way of speaking and a crow’s head.

“H-hey, maybe we should just leave him alone…” Miss Uraraka is also here. So he must have waltzed straight into class 1-A’s waiting room then, just his luck.

Soon it seems that the entire class is crowding around him, throwing question after question without giving him a chance to properly respond. Izuku doesn’t blame them for their cautious curiosity, they had only just gone through what must have been a traumatic experience. Yet despite the justified response, he feels like they could have responded a bit better. They leave him with little breathing space and Izuku feels about ready to just activate a quirk, any quirk, and hightail it out of there.

“You guys know you’re overwhelming him, right?” A girl with features reminding him of a frog calmly says.

Instantly the bulk of people calm down, some even have the decency to look a little ashamed.

“Sorry man, I didn’t mean to.” Thunderbolt looks genuinely apologetic. Izuku decides then and there that they are as troublesome as they are likeable. That was before a scowling boy with hair like an angry porcupine forced his way right into his face.

“Who the hell are you?!” Porcupine boy snarls, “I don’t care what the hell your story is, get the hell out of here before I blast you to pieces you-”

“-You poor innocent lost person!” A boy with funny bright red hair interrupts him. “Er, you were lost right?”

Just like that all attention returned to him and Izuku doesn’t bother stopping the sigh of relief leaving him. When dealing with someone erratic in a situation like this, it’s best to look as non-threatening as possible.

“Yes, I am. The excitement outside overwhelmed me, so I rushed inside without looking where I was going. Before I knew it I was hopelessly lost.” Izuku explains.

His extremely short description of what happened to him was apparently enough for the scowling porcupine boy, he rips his arm out of the hold that the red haired boy had on him to hold him back and walks towards the back of the room grumbling under his breath.

Izuku should really read the reports and learn their names when he gets back home, knowing who he’s dealing with will make his life a lot easier.

The boy with the red hair smiles broadly revealing shark like teeth. “That must have been terrible. Hey, how about I show you the way back?”

“That would be wonderful, thank you!” Izuku looks around the room and notices that most of red haired shark boy’s classmates are visibly holding themselves back from throwing themselves at him again, “If it isn’t a problem.”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s fine.” Red haired shark boy turns to Iida, “Right ‘President?”

Iida straightens up, “Yes of course! But be sure to return promptly!”

“Thank you,” Izuku thanks them again and bows slightly towards class 1-A in gratitude, “I’ll be sure to cheer you on during the festival.”

This earned him bright cheers and smiles, somehow their naturally cheerful energy washed away whatever nerves he had left. Hero-hopefuls are also quite impressive. He can hardly wait to see what type of future is in store for all of them and even though they stand on opposite sides of the field, he wishes them the best.

While he follows red haired shark boy out of the room Izuku dared another glance back. By fate his eyes meet Uraraka’s, who had stuck to the back of the waiting room. The poor girl gives him a shaky smile, one he returned with what he hopes is a bright and reassuring one. He isn’t here to cause anyone any fear.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking,” Izuku starts when the two of them are alone, “What’s your name?” Calling the other ‘red haired shark boy’ in his mind was starting to become quite exhausting.

For some reason red haired shark boy starts to blush and look intensely awkward, “Sorry, I should have introduced myself earlier.” The other shifts awkwardly for a bit before stretching out a hand for him to shake with a bright smile, “My name is Kirishima Eijiro, nice to meet you!”

“Izuku, likewise.”

Kirishima doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest by the lack of a last name, something Izuku is grateful for. Names hold a valuable piece of knowledge, something he isn’t just willing to give to just about everyone. Knowledge is power after all.

“Hey Izuku, why are you out here all on your own anyway?” Kirishima suddenly asks.

There is a strangely intense look in his eyes, Izuku isn’t sure what to make of it. “I can take care of my self,” He cringes a little, “Usually. I hadn’t expected to be overwhelmed by the excitement.”

Suddenly Kirishima grabs him by the shoulders with a big beaming grin on his face, “Izuku that is so manly!”

Huh?

The confusion must have been evident on his face because Kirishima starts to explain, “You didn’t want to depend on your servants and prove your own strength, right?”

“My servants?” Where did the other get this assumption from? Not that it wasn’t true, in a sense the henchman could be called servants but still, he preferred to call them family.

Kirishima blinks, apparently returning from whatever strange daydream he must have had, “Was I wrong? With the way you talk and the way you’re dressed I just thought,” He gestures with his hand a little, “You know, you must be someone important.”

Izuku blinks in bewilderment, of all things this wasn’t the type of impression he had wanted to make. The clothes he is wearing are relatively casual compared to some of the things he has, though he never really paid a lot of attention to what he is wearing. His white sleeveless dress shirt and low cut black vest are from impressive quality, that he knows. He is similar to his father with their lack of interest in appearance, but Kurogiri and surprisingly quite a lot of others joined together in the opinion that their leaders should wear nothing but the best.

And right now he realises that appearances might just actually matter.

“You’re not exactly wrong but it isn’t anything special, really.” Izuku reassures the other.

“So manly,” Kirishima wipes away a tear, “being modest is manly too!”

“Oh, uh… Thank you?” He didn’t mean for it to come out like a question, “That’s very kind of you.”

“See there it is again,” Kirishima says while they turn a corner, “You speak just like an adult.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, talking to you right now, I kind of feel like I’m talking to a teacher or something like that.” Is that a compliment? “You know, you feel like someone respectable.”

“I wasn’t aware I ‘felt’ like that.” And it’s not like he has a lot of people to compare his way of speech to except his family, but most of them are villains or people who come right off the streets, not exactly prime teacher material.

“That must sound pretty weird but it’s true.” Kirishima says with a grin.

Soon Izuku starts to hear the sound of people cheering again, Kirishima stops walking and points to a staircase leading up somewhat further along the hall, “If you go up that staircase and follow the hallway you should reach the public route again. Will you be okay from here on dude?”

Izuku can count on a single hand the amount of times he was called ‘dude’ in his entire life but he doesn’t comment on it, the casualness is incredibly refreshing. Instead he nods towards Kirishima, feeling a bit lost for words. This is likely the first and last time he’ll speak with the ‘red haired shark boy’ as casually as this on such a friendly basis.

“Well if you’re okay then I’ve got to go or I’ll be late for the introduction ceremony. Class president will have my head if that happens.” Kirishima scratches the back of head, “Maybe I’ll see you again soon.”

Izuku waves him goodbye as his walks away, somehow losing the security of having someone with him hits harder than he had expected.

“Kirishima!” Izuku calls out before he disappears from view, the other turns around with a grin, “Thank you and be careful!”

Kirishima looks surprised for a moment but returns his words with a grin and a thumbs-up nonetheless. Izuku stares at the corner where Kirishima disappeared behind for a little while longer.

“See you again soon, huh.” He certainly hopes not. After all, the next time they meet they might just stand on opposite sides of the monochrome and Izuku isn’t sure if he’s willing to accept that just yet.

Luckily Izuku didn’t get lost again. Just as Kirishima had promised, he found the public route with ease and managed to join the crowd yet again. Prepared this time.

Finding a seat was easy enough as well, there were kind people willing to show him an open spot. Izuku isn’t sure whether they were complete strangers or not, but he’s grateful for the gesture nevertheless. The eventful morning left him a bit tired. To his luck he even had the time to rest a little before the sportsfestival began, as much as one can catch a breather with the exited chattering surrounding him.

In a fashion entirely befitting a school for heroics the sportsfestival is opened with drama and grandeur by 18+ heroine Midnight.

How a heroine specifically targeting an adult audience managed to become a teacher for minors is a bit beyond him, but he decides to ignore it much like everyone else. For all he knew she was chosen to expose the young students to a diversity of heroes and to teach them that there is more to heroes then appearances and first impressions. In that case, choosing Midnight is a genius decision, just as expected of UA.

The moment the classes are announced and students enter the field Izuku is on the edge of his seat. How could he not when all these first year students, all his age, are about to show of their capabilities to the entirety of Japan. And all first year students obviously include class 1-A, the class in which he is now personally familiar with two people, Uraraka and Kirishima. Usually he cannot show a lot of favouritism towards any type of hero but within the privacy of his own mind he wishes them the best of luck.

His thoughts return towards what’s happening below at a certain announcement, “…Representing our freshmen, Bakugou Katsuki!”

Darn he had really been spacing out again, hopefully he hadn’t missed anything important.

The angry porcupine boy from earlier moves towards the microphone standing on a tall stage. So his name is Bakugou Katsuki, another name he should try his hardest to remember. You must be something special if you represent your school year. Though he isn’t sure, he is being home schooled after all.

“Sensei, I’m going to place first.” Bakugou stated, as if it were a fact.

Naturally his proclamation of victory is responded negatively to, the loud jeering from not only the audience but the rest of the UA freshmen as well  made that much clear. Izuku himself isn’t bothered however, if anything he’s amused. Bakugou’s type is commonplace enough in his family that he knows what the real intent is.

Angry porcupine boy consciously cornered himself.

All of the sudden the sportsfestival became a lot more interesting. Though Izuku still pities the rest of class 1-A a little, just like that they became everyone’s target.

Somehow time seems to fly by while he watches the introduction ceremonies proceed. It feels almost wrong to be watching from a distance. Just as easily he could have been one of the many student standing below. He too could have been feeling the pressure of everyone’s expectations, the excitement and determination to get his name out there.

Being part of the audience and watching the sportsfestival all on his own wasn’t as fun as he thought it was.

Nevertheless he marvels at the all of the quirks being put on display when the first round, an obstacle course, begins. Some immediately move ahead from the others. Bakugou Katsuki is example of such, literally flying ahead of his peers with expertly aimed fireworks from the palms of his hands. At least, they seemed like fireworks, though calling them explosions would probably be more accurate.

Izuku finds himself actively searching for Uraraka and Kirishima in the ocean of students, but his keen eyes catches something far more interesting instead. A boy with wild purple hair being escorted by another student, though the other student’s behaviour is most peculiar. It vaguely reminded him of someone sleepwalking. Is he under effect of a brainwashing quirk? Those are rare and often misunderstood, if it is indeed a brainwashing type of quirk then the purple haired boy didn’t have an easy life. Yet the boy shows an incredible amount of willpower to be gunning for heroics nevertheless. Izuku hopes to never have to meet him on his side of society’s monochrome, for multiple reasons.

Just as promised, the first to pass the finish line is Bakugou Katsuki. His victory is met with mixed responses and mostly silence, so Izuku decides to do the right thing. He stands up and gives the boy a standing ovation. Many seem to follow his example soon after.

The angry porcupine may have some major personality issues but one cannot deny his skill.

And as one by one more of class 1-A starts to cross the finish line, Izuku belatedly realises he completely forgot to follow his two people of interest. Actually it appears he missed most of the first round in his musings. Oh well, it cannot be helped. He is just going to have to pay more attention next round.

To his luck he gets the opportunity to witness the creative uses of quirks through the second round, given in the form of a combination of cavalry and capture the flag, in which students in groups of four must attempt to steal headbands with scores from each other.

As interesting at that seemed, Izuku could hardly bring himself to pay a lot of attention. A strange, uncomfortable nagging feeling in the back of his mind and an itch in his legs prevented him from focusing on anything else.

Both to his relief and consternation, this round is also over before he knows it and breaktime is announced.

Perhaps he’ll feel better if he stretches his restless legs and burns some excess energy. With what’s probably an impressive manoeuvre, he climbs up the rows of the tribune with no effort whatsoever all the while excusing himself to the people he inevitably jumps over. In no time he’s back in the stone white hallways again, like he had never left them in the first place.

Izuku welcomes the quiet like an old friend.

Speaking of old friends, while stretching his legs he might as well try and find Mirio. He really did want at least someone familiar to talk to and perhaps the bright other’s heroic presence will wipe his remaining restlessness away. Maybe they could even watch the remainder of the sportsfestival together.

With renewed purpose in mind he starts his track through unfamiliar dead stone, his steps echo uncomfortably in his ears. But he ignores it in favour of paying attention to where he’s going. Only a fool makes the same mistake twice, and Izuku most certainly isn’t a fool.

Izuku must be cursed.

Perhaps the hallways are under affect of some quirk or another to force all those on the other side of… whatever it may be, to get horribly lost. There is no other option because he’s definitely not a fool, though he’s starting to doubt that. Maybe he had overestimated his own navigation skills or maybe he just depended too much on one of his favourite quirks, not that he has that many.

Sadly ‘Plant Whisperer’, which is an ability part of ‘Botanokinesis’, didn’t work on anything decisively not alive. In modern stone hallways he might as well be navigating through a black hole. And to make matters worse, none of his father’s teachings worked inside modern buildings.

There is nothing else to it, he has to resume his path and look for Mirio. Though anyone familiar will work at this point. As he passes by yet another corner he freezes mid-step.

No, Izuku is without a doubt cursed.

He had somehow managed to walk straight into the path of least favourable person possible, Endeavour. He must have jinxed it when he said that anyone familiar would work.

The massive, tall man is just as intimidating as he could remember. Face aflame and set in the same permanent scowl that he can vividly remember from seven years ago.

Seven years ago, that was back when that man had been looking for Shouto. His poor friend had been so afraid to be found back then, Izuku doesn’t want to think about the kind of life he must have lived in the clutches of that monster.

But if he remembers Endeavour, than there is a big chance Endeavour will remember him as well. And with security beefed up the way it is, the ‘hero’ has full authority to ‘arrest’ him for ‘suspicious behaviour’, there would be nothing that Izuku could say in his defence. Nothing that would be taken over the word of the current number one hero of Japan. If he’s arrested then there would be a big chance that one of his family’s followers will protest, this would without a doubt reveal his true identity. Even worse, his father will find out and wreak hell upon hero society.

No matter what, he cannot be arrested.

It’s probably a good thing that his mind is capable of going a mile a second because Endeavour seems to have only just noticed him, if the sudden deepening of his scowl is anything to go by. In turn that must mean that little to no time has passed since he passed by that fated corner. How lucky.

“What are you doing here brat?” Endeavour asks in his signature gruff tone.

Does that mean he’s recognized? Nevertheless he’ll play the fool, if worst comes to worst he can always play the card of ‘being recognized as someone else’. Having a plain face is quite a virtue sometimes.

“Sorry sir, I got lost when I wanted to stretch my legs during breaktime.” Izuku answers, letting his nerves of being figured out bleed into his voice.

The man huffs, “It’s not that far from the tribune kid, you’ve got to give a better excuse than that.”

Oh. So he wasn’t as lost as he thought he was. That’s awkward.

Yet before Izuku can bring in a word to his defence the hero continues, “This area is restricted, that means it’s not meant for civilians like you,” He knows what restricted means thank you, “So tell me the truth, what are you doing here?”

To make matters worse the hero seems to amp up his intimidation levels and take a threatening step forward. Izuku’s mind instantly goes haywire, trying to franticly remember the type of wood that is fire resistant and if his small stature and superior speed is enough to be able to escape the current number one hero. Whatever it was that had been bothering him in the back of his mind seems to lurch forward and force adrenaline back into his system for the second time that day. Instinct screams at him to just do something, anything to get away from the man approaching him.

While desperately trying not to let any of his panic show, Izuku fumbles horribly over his words. The entire world is just too much, every single sense he has is hyper focused on every detail of the threat in front of him.

A hero isn’t supposed to make him feel like this.

“Young master, are you there?” A extremely familiar voice breaks right through the fog of panic clouding his mind. Izuku pays no further mind to Endeavour and spins around to met with a blessing in disguise, literally.

Kurogiri is right behind him, wearing his black, smooth suit as immaculately as always. The sight of his angular middle-aged face, usually shrouded in mist, is a blessing for sour eyes.

“Kuro- saki,” Izuku fumbles a little to adjust to the situation, “I’m sorry, was I gone for too long? I got lost.” He hopes he didn’t mess up too badly, it would be a waste to destroy the opportunity given to him. Now he can only hope that Endeavour would buy their ‘act’.

“There is no need to apologise young master, the fault is entirely mine.” Kurogiri turns towards Endeavour and bows slightly, “Thank you for helping us sir, if you’d please excuse us.”

The hero seems stumped for a bit before he recovers, he almost grudgingly dismisses them with a wave of his hand. “No matter, I’ll let you off for now kid. Don’t let it happen again.”

Izuku doesn’t get the chance to answer yet again, the man passes by both him and Kurogiri with steps so loud it has him cringe.

However before the man could disappear from sight Izuku speaks up, “If you don’t mind me asking Endeavour,” Izuku begins before turning towards the man, “What is a hero to you exactly?”

Endeavour seems to freeze in place, his back entirely rigid. Without turning he answers curtly, “That is none of your business brat, now get lost.”

Such a cruel thing to say to someone already lost, what a hero.

“Young master, are you alright?” Kurogiri asks when the hero is out of sight.

Instantly reality rushed back to him. Had he really just asked that of the number one hero just now? “I’m so sorry Kurosaki. I really don’t know what came over me just now.”

Despite being alone and despite all of the stress, Izuku is careful not to slip up and mentioning Kurogiri’s name. Risking the chance of being caught on surveillance, if there is any, is way too high.

A gentle hand is put on his shoulder, “It’s alright sir. Today must have been very stressful, my apologies for not approaching you sooner.”

Izuku finally turns towards Kurogiri, “What do you mean, where you here the entire time?”

“Yes young master, I was told to keep a close eye on you during your visit, but to not approach you.” Kurogiri’s bright golden eyes speak of regret, “It would appear that I misread the entire situation.”

“Oh no, it’s alright. I’m not angry.” Izuku quickly reassures the man, “I just thought I would be visiting all on my own.” Though his treacherous voice betrays him by choking up in the end.

“It is exactly for that reason, young master, that I was told to keep my distance. Your father had been under the assumption that you wouldn’t have wanted anyone with you during your day here.”

“And yet he still send you?”

Kurogiri smiles warmly, “Your father knows you quite well, but he still worried a lot for your well being.”

This puts a smile on Izuku’s face as well. He probably should have known better, of course his father wouldn’t let him go out there all by himself. Not with the sheer amount of risks that come with being someone of his status, in any way or shape of the word. “Well in any case, thank you for being here Kurosaki.”

At Kurogiri’s visible confusion he elaborates, “Going to the sportsfestival on my own wasn’t as easy nor as fun as I thought. So I’m glad to have company from now on.”

Kurogiri bows slightly, “I am utmost honoured to accompany you for the rest of your day young master.”

His display of sheer reverence is still flustering, even after all these years. But before Izuku could say anything about it, an announcement interrupts him warning them that the final round is about to start. Instead of attempting to disagree with the show of respect, he wills the blush rising on his face away and smiles brightly at the ever loyal man, “Thank you Kurosaki, but could you guide me towards the tribune?”

Kurogiri straightens up again, back into his usual stance, “Of course young master,” He gestures forwards with his right hand, “If you’d follow me please.”

As it appears, Endeavour was speaking the truth when he told him that they were near the tribune. Within moments Kurogiri had guided him back and to say it was embarrassing would be an understatement.

Yet Izuku couldn’t understand what is wrong with him, why would he get lost so easily and what on earth possessed him to question the current number one hero in such a precarious situation? And as it seems, it wasn’t the lack of company that caused his anxiety. Even with Kurogiri right within reach his new unease persists.

Izuku can’t help but rub his bare arms to try and calm himself. Though it only led to Kurogiri offering his coat, which he respectfully declined because it was anything but cold in the stadium and wearing a black coat will probably roast him under the sun’s relentless rays. How Kurogiri can stay so calm and cool wearing such heavy black clothing is both impressive and a bit intimidating.

Putting his focus on something else really did calm his heart, maybe like this he can actually enjoy the sportsfestival for a bit. But before he could tell Kurogiri this and actually head back to their seats, a familiar voice calls out to him. “Izuku! There you are, I’ve been looking for you!”

There is only one person who calls out to him so casually and jovially, Mirio is walking his way accompanied by two people Izuku doesn’t recognize. Despite the strange pit in his stomach the moment he saw the other, he greets back as cheerfully as he could manage.

“I have been searching for you too, actually.” Izuku says as soon as they were within talking distance, “Would you mind introducing me to your friends?”

Mirio gives the usual grin and gestured to the two extremely contradictory people behind him, a very energetic grinning girl and a boy who looked about ready to disappear into thin air and never return, but before he could bring out a single word the aforementioned social butterfly interrupts him, “Whoa! You weren’t kidding Mirio, he just as classy and polite as you said!”

The social butterfly girl grabs his hands and shakes them wildly, “Wow and such gorgeous clothes and his face, so plainly Japanese, it’s amazing!” Plainly Japanese huh, that’s a first, “And is that your butler? I didn’t know those still existed.”

Kurogiri to his credit, only looked slightly miffed at social butterfly girl’s behaviour. Izuku had half expected the man to correct her on the spot, the man’s self control is nothing to sneeze at.

It is only several minutes later that Izuku decided to have mercy on Kurogiri and interrupts the girl, who was for some reason still shaking his hands, “Well my name is Izuku and this,” he gestured with his head, “is Kurosaki, it’s nice to meet you…” He hooked off near the end hoping that social butterfly girl will catch the hint.

She did, “Ooh right, sorry. I get excited easily.” The girl finally lets go of his hands and Izuku had to discretely massage the life back into them, “My name is Hado Najire and the shy boy over there is Amajiki Tamaki, nice to meet both of you too!” Amajiki nods his way shyly but keeps his eyes averted. Which is understandable, not everyone is a social butterfly on a sugar-high.

Izuku turns towards Mirio, who appears to be comforting Amajiki for some reason, “Is there another reason you were searching for me Mirio?”

His friend jumps in place a little and scratches his head sheepishly, “Ah well… actually,” he glances a bit awkwardly towards Kurogiri, “Could I speak with you alone for a moment Izuku? There is something I wanted to ask you.”

“Sure,” Izuku answers before he could think too much about it, “I don’t think Kurosaki would mind, right?”

Though it’s more out of courtesy, considering that the man would hardly ever oppose to him going his own way, Kurogiri nods. “Certainly, I will wait patiently for your return young master.”

Once they found a quiet secluded spot somewhere in the maze of hallways, there was a brief moment of silence as Mirio seems to be in deep thought. Izuku felt quite hesitant to be the one to break quiet. However the awkward silence doesn’t last long, Mirio looks up all of the sudden with a determined look on his face. Whatever it was that he had been so pensive about seems to have been resolved.

“Izuku, you know a lot about quirks right?” Mirio asks with an uncharacteristically serious tone. Somehow it makes him hesitant to answer, but nevertheless Izuku nods. “Is it possible for a Quirk to have a mind of it’s own?”

Izuku blinks a few times in bewilderment, of all questions this one was the least expected. “Why do you ask?” The question makes him awfully uncomfortable somehow, like his heart was crawling out of his chest. He prays that the other will suddenly return to his usual cheerful smile and say something like ‘got you there!’ and that it’s all just a big joke.

It wasn’t.

Mirio only looks increasingly uncomfortable. “Lately I have been having these strange dreams and every time, without fail, there is this person I can hardly see through a thick wall of black flames. All this person says is ‘you’re not the one’ before everything just falls apart.”

Izuku’s racing heart suddenly stops, “Why do you ask me about this, why not ask mister Yagi?” He asks without thinking.

Mirio answers awkwardly, “I felt compelled to ask you about this, I really don’t know why myself.”

Fear seems to return with vengeance. Every bit of him screamed to just turn around and run, to just get out of there. Danger! Every single one of his nerves shriek, but there is no real threat. Izuku does the most human thing he could think of, he dismisses the warning altogether as much as he could.

This is his friend, he came to him of all people for help. Help he desperately needs because only now does he notice the slight paleness in Mirio’s face that he didn’t notice before, the other seems to be wearing thin.

Yet, “I’m sorry, I never heard of anything like a quirk having a consciousness.” It is help he cannot give. The answer is about as honest as he would dare, the only quirk he could possibly think of would be the one quirk he shouldn’t know anything about.

To his dismay Mirio is visibly disappointed by his answer, the emotion is clear to him and for the first time Izuku hates his ability to read others so well. In a situation like this it would have been better to be figuratively blind.

“I see,” Mirio smiles widely but it is obviously fake, “Well I kind of expected that. It’s fine really, it’s a strange thing to ask about.”

Izuku finds himself hating that smile.

Mirio stretches out a hand, that detestable smile still painted on his face, “Thanks for hearing me out though, I really needed someone to talk to.”

Izuku reaches out in return, burying the ice behind a warm smile. He wanted to say something similar, the words rested on the tip of his tongue, well practised. ‘Thank you for putting that faith in me, I’m glad you think of me as such a close friend.’ Yet before his hand even touches the one outstretched to him, a dubiously familiar energy electrifies his veins. A feeling not unlike someone pulling on all the nerves in his right arm. But it didn’t hurt, though it might as well have.

He recognizes that feeling, like an embrace of a long lost loved one, like the desperate grasp of someone who’s about to lose what they had been looking for. Safe yet like a predator. It feels just like All for One.

Izuku pulls his hand away as if it had been burned, much to the confusion and surprise of his friend. He hides his hands behind his back and smiles in what he hopes is a warm and friendly way, “I’m grateful you trusted me with what troubles you, though I’m sorry I couldn’t be of any help.”

The words come out much smoother that he had expected. Mirio seems to take his words as they are, but with a underlying layer of doubt. His friend’s smile turns slightly concerned.

“I guess we should head back then.” Mirio says.

Izuku agrees with a half-hearted ‘yeah’. But Mirio grab his arm before he could start walking.

“Are you okay?” Asks the one who looks about ready to keel over himself.

All of the resentment he had felt earlier gives way to sheer frightened exhaustion. “Don’t worry about me Mirio, I’ll be alright. Today has been a little stressful, that’s all.”

“If you say so…” Mirio looks away for a moment, then with a much more energetic smile he continues, “Let me at least escort you back to mister Kurosaki.”

Izuku’s tired brain takes a little too long to connect ‘Kurosaki’ to ‘Kurogiri’, but once he finally catches on he smiles back. “Alright mister hero, lead the way.”

Mirio fake salutes, “Yes sir!”

Mirio and him had split ways when he was escorted back to Kurogiri. The boy had gone back to his usual boisterous self by the time he caught up to his friends. Izuku blankly wondered for just a moment, if all of that friendly cheer was a lie as well. He shut himself up afterwards. One does not think that way of a comrade.

He sat in the crowd for a while with Kurogiri, watching the final rounds progress but not really seeing anything that was happening. If the crowd was to be believed it had to be exciting, yet the sentiment was lost to him. His quirk had activated against his will and he couldn’t think of anything else.

Father had mentioned it fleetingly once, but it still rang clearly in his mind. Of what could truly happened to those who lost themselves in the power of their own Quirk. How the last drenches of humanity would slip away, how it could twist someone beyond recognition. Izuku doesn’t want to end up like that, he doesn’t want to hurt the people around him. The innocent, faceless people simply going on about their lives without a care in the world, while knowing nothing about what happens behind their backs.

He doesn’t want to be there anymore, he wants to go home.

Izuku nudges Kurogiri with his shoulder and the man turns towards him, his gaze turns heavy with concern the moment he catches sight of his face. “Young master, are you alright?”

Izuku mutely shakes his head, “I’m sorry but…” He trailed off near the end, words stuck in his throat and unwilling to come out.

Kurogiri swiftly adapts to the sudden change, he gently grabs him by the shoulders and guides him away from the crowd around them and into the more quiet. Izuku has little willpower left to pay much attention to the world around him.

“What happened young master?” Kurogiri asks and whatever dam holding him back shattered into pieces.

“It activated on it’s own and I didn’t even do anything, Kurogiri,” He slipped up and used to wrong name but cared too little to correct himself, “I want to go home… but I can’t, can I? I promised to watch the entire festival and note everything down so I could tell everyone back home but I can’t, I already failed and… and-”

“You didn’t fail young master.” Kurogiri interrupted him, “Today was meant to be nothing but fun.” His composed voice calmed Izuku a little, “We have many people in the public recording every event, just for the purpose of allowing you to have a day just for yourself.”

Today was meant to be fun, he had been looking forward to this day for an entire week. How could he have forgotten?

Izuku blinks unbidden tears away, “May I go home?”

“Certainly, if that is what you wish.” Kurogiri reassures him with a warm smile, one so warm and gentle that it clears away some of the horrible warfare of emotion and instinct going on inside of him.

To return the favour Izuku composes himself as well as he could manage and orders with a much power as he could manage, “Kurogiri, take me home please.”

“As you wish.”

Chapter Text

To say it is a relief to be home would be a vast understatement. Despite how ungrateful it must be compared to how long he had been looking forward to going out in the first place, Izuku hardly has the energy nor the willpower left to feel guilty about it. He takes the time to just breathe in the clean mountain air he has become so accustomed to. Somehow the familiarity instantly makes him feel safe, certainly safer then he has felt for most of the day.

How was he going to explain all of this to his father?

Izuku humours the thought of not telling anyone at all, Kurogiri certainly wouldn’t sell him away, would he? The faint rustle of clothing behind him reminds him he’s not alone. Kurogiri stands just a few steps behind him. Waiting faithfully for Izuku to regain his bearings, just like always. Immediately he feels guilty of thinking about imposing on the man so much, if his father found out then the one facing his wrath would without a doubt be Kurogiri.

Either that, or he would be ‘grounded’ for the rest of the year. The thought of father’s overbearing concern isn’t exactly a pleasant one. He might as well be upfront with his feelings, rather then let anything brew for too long.

Izuku sighs deeply and runs a hand through his hair.

“Young master?” Kurogiri enquires from the corner of his vision.

“Oh! I’m sorry Kurogiri,” Izuku quietly admonishes himself for having the man wait for so long, “You may leave now, I can take care of myself.” At the lingering doubt on Kurogiri’s face he adds, “I’m alright, really. We’re home now, I’ll be nothing but safe.”

“Very well young master, I hope you will have a nice day.” Kurogiri bows down by the waist and walks away with quiet steps. Only now does Izuku notice that the man didn’t reactivate his quirk to shroud his appearance behind black mist the moment they returned home. It likely meant that he had something to tend to outside of Nara’s border, which doesn’t at all make him feel better about holding the man up for so long.

Izuku sets out to follow the path of the elaborate traditional garden surrounding his home. He doesn’t have to walk too far to hear a good clue as to his father’s whereabouts, the sound of cheerful barks and the patter of feet running around is a telling sign as any other. As if summoned by his thoughts a pair of familiar arms circle around his shoulders from seemingly out of nowhere.

“Good afternoon papa.” Izuku greets him, the day has worn him down to the point that his father’s sudden appearance doesn’t even surprise him anymore.

Father stays oddly silent for a while, tightening his hold ever so slightly and resting his chin on top of head like he often does. The strange behaviour is a bit disconcerting but not entirely unexpected. Because the chance that his father wouldn’t instantly notice something is wrong would be close to none. Yet that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t make him feel apprehensive.

It was immediately after this thought that his father let go and kneeled down in front of him. “Izuku, are you alright?” Father asks.

The obviously concerned look in his eyes has Izuku’s heart clench again with guilt. It was at that moment that he realises that he wouldn’t have been able to lie to his father even if he wanted to. “I…  I just don’t feel very well…” He looks away, no longer able to look his father in the eye. The depths of clouded green was too much to bear.

Gentle hands cradle his face and force him to look his father back in the eye, the concern form earlier seems to have increased tenfold. “Are you hurt somewhere?” His hands clench slightly, “Did they hurt you?”

Father’s voice took a turn for the frightening, the expression on his face nothing but deadly with an emotion Izuku cannot recognise. He wants to say something to calm the situation, downplay whatever happened, but the words die in his throat. Father’s presence is too powerful to ignore.

A soft whine to his left is his salvation. The sound breaks the deadly spiral his father had fallen into and his entire posture seems to relax into something more human. A cold wet nose nudges father’s hand where it rests on his cheek, it prompts him to let go and pet the furry head of the worried canine.

The sight of it’s furry face reminds Izuku of the sound he had heard, the sound had been of playing dogs. Or more accurately, playing wolf-dogs. The three animals had been found and rescued by miss Ebonette, the young heiress to the Tanaka family, roughly five years ago when they were just pups. Crimson had initially taken over the task of raising them as miss Ebonette had been unable to. Father had become quite fond of the dogs and had even named and trained them. The beasts aren’t a common sight to Izuku as they usual patrol Mt. Yoshino for any unwanted visitors.

The only one brave enough to approach father was Athos, the leader of the small pack of three. The calm and assertive nature of the animal seemed to have worked it’s magic. For that Izuku is immensely grateful, yet that doesn’t mean that he won’t grab onto to opportunity handed to him. “Why are they here, don’t they usually roam around?”

Father turns back towards him, the emotion in his eyes is no less intense then it were before. Yet he seems to buy into his weak attempt at changing the subject, “They happened to visit home when I was enjoying the afternoon sun. Who am I to resist indulging in their playfulness?”

It was exactly the type of answer Izuku expected of him. It’s so typical of his father that he can’t help smiling. The cheer normality of father playing with the dogs, even though the dogs are hardly mundane, is heart warming.  Soon enough they are showered in even more love as the remaining two, Aramis and Porthos, join them for some attention.

Izuku’s smile seems to lighten father’s mood as well, but the concern in undeniably still there. “You’re home early Izuku,” Father wasn’t going to let him go without some answers, “Did something happen?”

He didn’t need to elaborate, Izuku knew exactly what he was talking about. Yet it didn’t make anything easier to explain, the exhausting day was finally starting to take it’s toll. Father apparently takes notice, he smiles lightly and reaches out a hand to ruffle his hair.

“How about you rest up first, then you can tell me all about your day. You look about ready to fall asleep standing.” Izuku nods, apparently he looks just as tired as he feels. His father brings him in for a warm embrace, “My poor child.” He whispers into his hair.

Izuku has to blink away the tears burning in his eyes, now that he’s safe and sound in his father’s arms there is nothing to keep him from finally breaking down a little. Luckily father seems stays stable, for the dogs remain carefree. There is no danger in letting go a little. He tells himself to ignore the slight tremble in the arms holding him.

Izuku does stop his father however when he moves to lift him up, he might be tired but he can still walk on his own. He really doesn’t want to depend on his father for such a small distance. Luckily father settles for escorting him to his room instead. The dogs immediately follow as well, so Izuku ends up with a small entourage to guide him to his room. A bit unnecessary, but still very appreciated. The company keeps him awake.

Sadly good things aren’t meant to last, Aramis starts barking loudly as soon as they got to the front door. A henchwoman jumps in fright at the sudden sound, the poor woman appears to have been waiting there anxiously for a while already. She turns even more pale when she sees his father with him, as if the sight was much more threatening then the three massive wolf-dogs scattered around watching her like stalking predators.

Father puts a hand on his shoulder and the hold feels more heavy then it should, “State you business.”

The poor woman flinches and kneels down, “Y-yes Heika,” She stutters a little but recovers quickly, “I was ordered to inform you of an urgent situation by the north border that needs your immediate attention.” Her report is strong and steady once eye contact with his father is broken, something Izuku can understand all too well. It’s common knowledge among his family not to look his father in the eye for too long.

He doesn’t need to look his father’s way to know what type of expression he must be wearing, so he does the right thing. He, for what he hopes is the last time that day, gathers as much strength as he can and pivots on his heel to properly address his father, “I think you should go father.”

This seems to surprise his father, but it doesn’t stop him from trying to argue, not that Izuku will give him the chance to. “I’ll be okay, I have the Musketeers to keep me company. Right now they might need you more than I do.”

Time appears to stand still for a moment as he and his father attempt to convince one another without any words. Izuku pities the poor woman for having to deal with his father in a bad mood, because he’s definitely not going to back down. Though it feels like an eternity, father nods with a resigned look on his face. One that stabs Izuku’s heart with guilt for the umpteenth time this day.

“Alright,” Father says with a sigh, “But you must promise me that you’ll rest, I will be back as soon as possible.”

Meaning, ‘if I catch you anywhere else then in bed I will ground you for the rest of the year’. Izuku is pretty accustomed to searching for hidden meanings in people’s words by now, especially his father’s. He’d best not try and push any buttons at the moment, lest this unspoken treat becomes reality. So he nods as convincingly as he could manage, and considering that he’s longing to sleep the rest of the day away, it’s not that difficult to prove to his father that he means it.

After giving Izuku yet another hug and a kiss on top of the head father leaves with the nervous henchwoman, leaving him with the three Musketeers as his only company just as promised. Despite knowing that he did the right thing, he still feels a little disappointed. For all that his father is frightening and a bit overbearing, he is also warm and safe. Both are things he honestly yearns for at the moment.

Nevertheless Izuku moves on, with Porthos trudging to catch up to him and the remaining two following close behind while he’s taking off his shoes by the doorway. Now he can only hope that he didn’t unknowingly lie to his father, he could really use some sleep right now.

The three Musketeers are a true blessing in keeping Izuku awake and on the right path. With his memory as fuzzy as it is at the moment, he wouldn’t be surprised if he got lost in his own head. It’s almost feels like he’s not even moving his own legs, like he’s watching everything unfold from far away. The dogs help grounding him, they tether him to reality.

Izuku knows he should be concerned about even needing that in the first place, but the awareness of it is frankly the only thing bothering him at the moment. He’ll just worry about everything later.

Aramis, the cheerful soul, has swapped places with Porthos to walk by his side at some point. The dog occasionally nips at his forearm whenever he spaces of, asking for more attention. Izuku gladly gives him all the ruffles he asks for. The action is somewhat calming and whenever he pays attention to Aramis, the dog does what looks like a cheerful victory dance and prances circles around him.

Porthos lumbers some distance behind them and watches his back. The feeling if his protective gaze is somewhat reassuring. Izuku himself watches the back of Athos, the unmovable leader of the small pack walking upfront. Athos vigilantly watches every corner for something dangerous and growls lowly at anyone coming too near. Their protectiveness is likely the most endearing thing Izuku has seen since the time he had seen Shiruba sleep on top of his father on the porch one warm evening.

Now that he thinks about it, he hasn’t seen his usual silver shadow yet. Shiruba had been such a common sight lately that he wasn’t paying much attention to it’s presence anymore. Now that it’s gone Izuku misses it’s quiet company a little. He wonders where it went. Perhaps it is also on a task somewhere, just like his father and Kurogiri. Or maybe he’s with Shouto, he knows at least that his friend is currently investigating a disturbance in the capital with Crimson. If it’s serious then they would probably like to have something intimidating by their side, Shiruba would be a prime candidate for such a task.

A familiar nip at his arm alerts Izuku of his current whereabouts. The three musketeers had faithfully guided him all the way towards a very welcoming hallway, where calm rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock sooths his swimming thoughts. For some reason Athos was the one to alert him of where he was, not Aramis. Somehow the fearless leader seems a bit on edge.

A quick look behind him thankfully confirms that the other two are still there with him a few paces behind. Izuku was almost worried they had left, though their strange behaviour was much more concerning.

What could be bothering them so much?

Izuku shakes his head, there is no use in thinking about it too much. Instead he pats Athos’ head in gratitude for his help. The prideful dog doesn’t respond to it as obviously as Aramis does, but Izuku can still see his tail wag a little. Yet Athos’ focus doesn’t waver, his deep amber eyes stare deeply at him. The intense gaze sends an unbidden shiver down his spine.

Right after he quickly looks away to look at something else, because you don’t stare dogs right in the eye, it’s the first thing his father has ever taught him regarding most animals, only to have his eyes catch onto the grandfather clock again. Something tugs at him from deep within his chest, urging him to take a closer look and he’s just too exhausted to resist. He caves easily and approaches with steps more certain than he thought he could muster.

The dogs are growling at something behind him but he doesn’t care. ‘Look closer’ someone whispers, ‘I’m right behind you, I’ll protect you’.

The grandfather clock is antique, likely even older that his father, but it’s still in great condition. The bronze and gold decorations are carefully polished and the wood looks like it’s in great shape as well, it had even been stained recently. Even the glass covering it’s inner workings is spotless.

Yet something seems odd. One panel in the back of the clock is worn around the edges, compared to the near perfect condition the rest of the wood is in it stands out a lot. The way the panel looks could only mean that they had been removed and placed back quite often by something sharp and pointed. He had never noticed it before, but now that he is taking a closer look he couldn’t take his eyes off of it.

Izuku can feel his heart pounding in his ears while he searches for a way to investigate. For some reason he feels like he’s doing something he definitely shouldn’t, like he’s going to be in big trouble of someone finds out.

There is a small bronze ornate lock on the glass panel, one that Izuku doesn’t dare try to break. So the glass panel can be opened, he figured that much. Old clocks often had those to make maintenance easier. But why put a lock on one? Was there something he isn’t supposed to see?

“It’s a lovely clock, isn’t it?”

Izuku’s heart jumps straight into his throat at the sudden sound, his blood turns to ice when he swivels around to look who it was. Chrono is standing just a small distance from him and when he quickly looks around to see why the dogs hadn’t warned him he sees they are no longer there.

“Chrono, why are you here?” Izuku asks and he curses his voice for trembling.

“I had heard you weren’t feeling well little prince,” Chrono answers with an off smile on his face, “I was worried you wouldn’t make it back to your room.”

The man was usually a bit strange and normally Izuku felt perfectly at ease with the other. Chrono was always just like a funny uncle to him, but now Izuku feels like he is staring straight into the eyes of a stranger. Eyes that hold no emotion, like the eyes of someone long dead.

“Is there something bothering you?” Chrono asks.

“No,” As soon as Izuku answered he knew he didn’t sound credible at all, “Well… I really am not feeling very well, but as you could see I made it back to my room just fine. I should go lay down…”

Chrono didn’t move but his smile widens slightly, “I wasn’t talking about that. ‘Your interest in that clock, you look at it quite often, don’t you?”

How could he have known that?

“I-I…” Izuku fumbles for the right words, “It looks a little… out of place, but it’s very beautiful and somehow- somehow it always caught my attention. I really don’t know why myself.”

To his relief Chrono steps back, “Oh? But I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough, son of Hisashi.”

Izuku doesn’t get the chance to bring in another word, as soon as he finishes speaking Chrono walks away and by the time he could breathe again the man was long gone. Izuku collapses to his knees, “What… what was that?”

Only now he realises that it wasn’t just his blood that seemed to have frozen, the entire hallway that was normally warm and inviting, had become frigidly cold. Izuku wraps his arms around himself and rubs his bare arms in an attempt to bring the warmth back into them but without much success. A soft whine and a cold nose reminds him he wasn’t alone and he doesn’t hesitate for a moment to hug the warm soft dog instead. Deep lumbering breaths tells him that the one in his arms is Porthos, the biggest but slowest of the three, his calm demeanour also makes him the least likely to bite you, whether on purpose or on accident. Holding the massive beast in his arms just a little longer isn’t going to be all too risky, probably.

Yet while he waits for warmth to return to his frozen body there is nothing he could do to stop the many thoughts running through his head. Could it be that it was all a dream? Had he fallen asleep while looking at the clock?

Is he really that tired?

While he was mulling over the possibility he notices Porthos becoming more and more restless, so he reluctantly lets go. Not willing to discomfort the poor animal just for his own sake. It’s only because he raises his head just on time that he notices Aramis and Athos appear from behind a corner, both seem slightly out of breath just like their brother. There is no doubt, the three Musketeers had really been gone, chasing a threat of some sort that Izuku hadn’t even noticed.

It had not been a dream, no matter how hard he wishes it was.

Suddenly he doesn’t want to sit in this hallway any longer, where the air is still slightly frigid and the memory of what had just occurred fresh in his mind. With leftover panic painfully constricting his lungs and eyes burning with unbidden tears Izuku stumbles up and towards his bedroom door, his safe haven barely an arm’s reach away. The clock’s ticking usually so comforting, is now almost deafening.

To his surprise he sees an unexpected guest in his room when he clumsily slides the door open. Shiruba’s massive frame greets him, curled around his neatly made bed. It raises it large head to greet him with an unrecognisable sound. Izuku can regrettably not even bring up the strength to give it a smile like he usually does. In lieu of an apology he softly pats it’s head instead when it moves aside for him. He’s secretly quite glad to have his silver shadow there for him.

The three Musketeers don’t follow him though. Athos stands still as a statue in the doorway, baring his teeth at Shiruba but not approaching nor making a sound. The dogs all appear rather frazzled, a feeling Izuku can relate to all too well at the moment. Even though he wishes for all the company he could get he doesn’t want to stress them out any further, so he takes deep breath, wills his voice to be stay steady and commands, “Out!”

Izuku doesn’t have to say it twice, Athos relaxes his face and stares back at him for another moment before disappearing from sight. The other two will without a doubt follow their leader outside, there is nothing stopping him from closing the outside world out by closing the door.

He doesn’t even change out of his clothes before crawling into his bed but he does grab the neatly folded blanked to cover himself despite the warm summer air. The cold clings to his heavy lungs like a disease and he barely notices Shiruba curling around him when he settles at last.

Izuku falls asleep wishing today was just a nightmare.

It’s late in the evening when he wakes up again and the first thing he notices is a soft breeze through his hair. Izuku basks in the comfortable warmth and fresh cool air until he is too awake to allow himself to. When he finally opens bleary eyes it is to a welcome sight.

His father had seated himself right by his bedside, he sits on his knees with a straight back and grace that many of this day and age cannot manage. Despite father facing him it appears that he hasn’t noticed Izuku being awake yet, his attention seems to be entirely on Shiruba, who is languidly spread over the floor with it’s head resting on his father’s lap. He traces the horns running along it’s back with an almost loving touch, it makes Izuku wonder a bit on the strange bond they appear to have.

“Good evening Izuku,” Father suddenly says, “Do you feel a little better now?”

Izuku had to clear his throat before he could answer, “I’m alright.”

His father chooses exactly that moment to finally look up and stare straight through him with piercing eyes, father doesn’t have to say anything for Izuku to know exactly what he’s thinking. “I see, I’m glad you’re ‘alright’,” Izuku winces a little at the unconvinced tone father used, “I thought you might be hungry, so I brought you something light to eat.”

He gestures towards Izuku’s nightstand, where a porcelain bowl covered by a lid stands. He tries to heave himself upright to reach for it but to his dismay his arms tremble under the slight strain. The stressful day seems to really have taken it’s toll on him.

A pair of hands suddenly grab him under the arms and gently help him upright. Izuku mumbles ‘thank you’ under his breath while his father seats himself on the bedside and when father carefully hands him the bowl Izuku gratefully takes it. He hadn’t even noticed his hunger until he smelled the freshly made chicken soup.

Shiruba remains by the bedside, unbothered by the sudden movement going on around it. He would have wished he could be as carefree as the silver shadow always seems to be, had he not known that the being was always alert and vigilant.

His father waits patiently for him to finish, there is a calm look on his face but the concern in his eyes is staggeringly clear to Izuku. By the time father returns the now empty bowl to the bedside table he knows what’s going to come next, his father didn’t have to asks him a thing.

Izuku begins by telling his father about the overwhelming crowd and how he should have been prepared but wasn’t in the slightest. About his misadventures through winding stone hallways and how class 1-A had been so helpful in taking him where he needed to go, though he carefully omits them being just as overwhelming. Similarly he doesn’t say a thing about his strange meeting with Mirio, but he doesn’t have any qualms about telling him all about his encounter with Endeavour.

What was most difficult to speak about however, was his Quirk activating against his will. There was little Izuku could do to hide his obvious discomfort. The fact that his father was listening carefully with a troubled look on his face didn’t make anything any easier. Nevertheless he keeps talking and by the time he’s done his throat feels parched.

During the time he had been talking Shiruba must have brought in a tray with tea, though Izuku hadn’t noticed it leave. Father himself appears to be pondering about something, he doesn’t make any movement to drink any of the macha tea resting in his hands. Izuku doesn’t have similar reservations, he nearly empties the entire cup all in one go.

Yet despite having grown rather tired again over his entire explanation he asks one last thing, “Papa, do you think it’s possible for Quirks to have a mind of their own?”

His father looks at him strangely, which was to be expected, Izuku had the same reaction. Though his father appears to have a much more definitive answer. “No, Quirks don’t tend to activate without prompting of any kind.” He pauses for a moment,” “Unless it is part of the Quirk to have a separate consciousness from their host, however even then it will be very closely related to the person it belongs to. As far as I know it would put too much strain on the host otherwise, the human mind can only handle so much without falling apart.”

That didn’t sound reassuring in the slightest. If having multiple consciousnesses can do this much damage to a person, than Mirio’s situation might be much graver than Izuku had first anticipated. To make matters worse, his friend already looked rather worn. Whatever his dreams were hinting at cannot be anything good, he hopes that Mirio will find the strength to get through whatever One for All will throw at him.

One for All.

The Quirk passed on by All Might himself, a Quirk that holds a stockpile of power for over eight generations of heroes, a lineage started by his long dead uncle. Though the ability to pass on a quirk through DNA seems rather redundant if you have nothing to pass on to begin with, Izuku can’t help but wonder how you figure out the workings of such a specific Quirk in the first place. The thoughts about his uncle reminds him of another detail.

Had the presence of One for All somehow triggered his own All for One? Can Quirks even influence other Quirks in such a manner?
There were too many questions running through his head with little to no way to answer them. His only option would be asking his father but the chance that Izuku will get a full answer is incredibly slim. Father isn’t too fond of speaking about One for All, the memory seemingly too painful to revisit, and Izuku isn’t willing to hurt his father for something as minor as satisfying his own curiosity.

He’ll have to figure out what’s going on by himself.

“Izuku…” His father suddenly says, “Would you like to practise calligraphy with me?”

The question is so random, it leaves Izuku floundering to answer. Yet it washes away the increasingly heavy weight in his chest all the same. “Sure…”

Even though Izuku’s answer had been less that enthusiastic, he was still too shattered to muster the energy, his father wasn’t bothered at all. He smiles as warmly as usual and lifts Izuku up out of his bed, effortlessly, just like that.

It would have been embarrassing had Izuku not known that his father could lift much heavier things with similar ease.

In the end, his father had carried him all the way to the traditional calligraphy room with Shiruba in following close behind. Somehow they hadn’t met a single one of his family members along the way, Izuku is as curious as he is glad about that. The room his father had chosen specifically for his hobby wasn’t too far from their bedrooms, so that might also explain the lack of people around. Nobody wanted to be caught dead anywhere near this part of the house without a very good reason.

Sometimes Izuku felt like he travelled several hundred years to the past when he’s in certain rooms inside his home. The very wood the estate is build from seems to carry history and despite all of the damage the building must have endured, it seems like time itself had frozen at some point. Strangely enough it reminds him a little of his father.

The room’s ceiling-high cabinets are filled to the brim with scrolls, ink and brushes of all types and sizes. Izuku can’t help but look around in wonder when his father had finally put him down on the floor, gently like he was made of glass.

Despite this being his father’s second favourite place in their home, the first being the sunny spots in the garden obviously, Izuku has hardly ever been in this room. The last time was back when he was nine, the time when he father had still been rather badly injured, Izuku had vehemently refused to leave his father’s side back then, in the fear that he would disappear again.

He had watched his father draw the most intricate kanji upon parchment with elegance giving away many years of practise. For a while it seemed that his father hadn’t been injured at all and Izuku had been mesmerised to the point he had temporarily forgotten all of his worries.

Izuku blinks out of his memories when his father kneels down to the left of him by the low wooden table and spreads out a sheet of paper for them to practise on. Only now does he notice that there were several brushes of different sizes placed out meticulously in front of him and that Shiruba had laid down behind him, it’s large head resting to the right of him. And while Izuku mentally admonishes himself for daydreaming again, he doesn’t even bother fighting the urge to pet it, absentmindedly glad to hear Shiruba sigh deeply in contentment.

When it seems that his father has finished laying out all of the materials needed Izuku turns to give him his full attention. Father doesn’t respond to his staring in any other way than smiling back and begins to grind an ink stone with expert movement. Every part of the process is silently done the traditional way, it’s almost mystical.

“My father had taught me all I needed to know when I was younger,” His father suddenly speaks up and immediately Izuku tries his hardest to commit every word to memory, “The simple ability to read and write had been taught to me in the form of calligraphy. For the longest time we didn’t have even the most basic necessities like ink or paper, thus all we had to work with was the earth beneath our feet and branches we sharpened by hand.”

Stories of his father’s past family are incredibly rare, to the point where Izuku can count the amount of times on one hand and still have fingers left. Even after all these years father still strongly grieves his lost loved ones, it’s surprising to hear the light tone when he speaks of his grandfather. Izuku doesn’t dare to say a word in fear his father would stop talking.

“The basic principles of calligraphy as taught to me are simple,” Father says while he steadily holds an ink brush above the parchment and even though his eyesight is negligible, every movement is made without wavering once, “Imagine what you wish to write within your mind and do not hesitate, do not fear to make mistakes for you can make none.”

Whilst his father explains he writes the kanji making up ‘Midoriya’ with practised ease, the symbols are extremely familiar to Izuku, despite to the fact that he hardly ever has to read or write them. And how could he forget, they were the very first symbols his father had ever taught him how to write, just like his grandfather had done before him. The symbols in their family name suddenly gained so much more meaning.

But regardless of the powerful reassuring words, Izuku feels incredibly nervous when a brush is handed to him. Needless to say that his first attempt at writing as beautifully as his father did ended up a complete flop. The ink had somehow dripped of his brush while he was thinking about what to write and the lines ended up horribly smudged when he applied just a little too much pressure.

It had looked so very simple at first but the entire process seems frustratingly difficult. His father’s amused encouragement did little to ease his embarrassment, still Izuku refused any help. Somehow he wanted to figure it out on his own first.

“Why calligraphy?” Izuku finally asks after his fifth failed attempt.

“The principle works not only on writing but on the way Quirks function as well.” His father patiently explains and gently guides Izuku’s hand when he tries for the sixth time, “A Quirk will lash out when the user experiences a powerful emotion such as fear.”

Izuku immediately swivels around to look at his father, dropping the brush mid-stroke in his surprise. Father remains unfazed, his face remains in a placid but distant expression. “When it lashes out and one comes to fear oneself, a Quirk will only grow vicious to the point of no control. It is a unforgiving circle that births most who call themselves ‘villains’.”

The way his father spoke, it’s almost as if he was speaking from experience. However painful the thought may be, it is more and more likely that he did.

And with the way things were going lately, Izuku had slowly started stumbling down the same path.

Izuku looks back at the failed attempts in front of him and his ink stained hands. Fear feeds fear and in all consuming fear comes failure.

“Can you teach me then?” He turns back to his father, “How to stop being afraid.”

I don’t want to hesitate any longer.

“There is nothing wrong with being afraid Izuku.” Father reassures.

He hands Izuku an entirely different brush and guides him through the simplest of things, from dipping the brush to holding it properly. His father corrects him as he goes and before he knows it, Izuku has properly drawn his name. It is hardly legible but he feels immensely proud nevertheless.

“If you don’t allow it to control you, fear can only make you stronger.”

“Did grandfather teach you that too?” Izuku blurts out before he can stop himself, but to his relief the gentle look on his father’s face doesn’t disappear.

“He did,” An unrecognisable emotion passes through his eyes, “But I didn’t understand it on time.”

From his right he can hear Shiruba heave another deep sigh, the sound more like a whine than anything else. Izuku immediately misses the carefree atmosphere now that it’s fading away. “How about Shiruba?”

His father blinks in surprise of the sudden change in subject, no doubt freeing himself from whatever memory that had resurfaced, and Izuku grasps the opportunity to change the subject back from the strange turn it had taken with greedy hands. “Shiruba’s name, is there a kanji we can use for it?” He blindly grabs a sheet of paper laying within reach, “I would like to write it’s name as well.”

Father stares at him with those piercing eyes of his for another moment or two before glancing towards Shiruba almost thoughtfully.

“How about the kanji for silver?” Father suggests and writes the symbol in the corner of one of Izuku’s failed attempts. “That is what you named it after, right?”

Izuku nods, that he did. But to his defence he just doesn’t have a talent for naming things. He focuses on the slight embarrassment to hide the vindictive feeling of envy on the fact that even a small quick little kanji written by his father looks like a literal piece of art. It probably didn’t help that he is perfectly aware that his father is doing all of this pretty much blind.

Despite everything though, Izuku doesn’t want this evening to end just yet. So with slow movements tries to mimic the way his father had written just before. Naturally it went awful and the ink blotched everywhere. But Izuku didn’t feel remorseful in the slightest this time.

After a while of literally watching ink dry, he looks back up towards his father only to startle when he had been looking at him the entire time with a obviously amused look all over his face. Izuku clears his throat awkwardly, “Could we maybe… you know, practise calligraphy a little longer? I don’t want to go back to bed just yet.” It wasn’t like he was going to sleep much if he did. He is as restless as he is tired.

The almost teasing amused look on his father’s face eases into something strangely affectionate. “Of course. I’m not going anywhere.”

Chapter Text

The rest of Izuku’s week after the sportsfestival was peaceful in a way that was almost staggering against the cheer stress of that particularly unlucky day. And not that he had complained, but the peace under his father’s ever watchful eye was also quite boring. Especially when he got to hear on a daily basis what everyone else was up to. Considering the surge in movement on the heroes’ side of business, life in Yomi, as many have come to call it, has been rather hectic. Though the awareness that everything is hectic doesn’t mean it felt like that to him. After all, if the most stressful thing of someone’s day consists of the frustration of not being able to properly draw some complicated Kanji or not being able to find the one dog that stole examples of said complicated Kanji, then their life can be considered pretty peaceful.

At least, that’s what Izuku thinks.

Everyone else apparently has an entirely different opinion on the matter, making sure he stays properly rested every single hour of the day. Their caring behaviour towards him was frustratingly precious but at the same time very concerning. Just how bad did he look for everyone to be that worried about him?

Well probably not that bad, his family loves to exaggerate on everything, but at least bad enough for even rough and tough Spatiel to tell him to take a week off from training.

But after a week of having lived day by day doing mostly small things here and there around his house, Izuku had finally decided that enough is enough and went to visit the city again, despite his nerves still being a little fried from the disaster of the Sportsfestival.

Now though, standing on the pavement by some busy road in Musutafu, Izuku feels a brief sensation of regret bite at him for deciding to go alone again. Nevertheless he will stay and make good of his day, he had fought tooth to nail with his father for this. Maybe he’ll even bump into his friend Mirio so he can apologize for his lack of helpfulness and then he won’t have to spend the day alone.

Or not because UA is still very much a school and won’t allow their student to wander around randomly on a weekday early afternoon.

Izuku sighs deeply, he’s not getting anything done like this and pedestrians are starting to glance his way suspiciously because he loitering around with an increasingly deep frown on his face. Or maybe because he’s a teenager out of school on a weekday afternoon wearing something decisively not a school uniform and is just standing somewhere seemingly waiting  for something to happen with an increasingly deep frown on his face.

Anyone with common sense would think that’s suspicious and Izuku tries not to blush when he smiles their way in what he hopes is a reassuring manner. After all these years of learning the in and out’s of human behaviour he should have known better. He doesn’t waste another moment loitering around and quickly moves along.

As soon as he’s moving again the suspicious glances disappear like an invisible weight lifted, much to Izuku’s relief. But the embarrassment doesn’t allow him to slow his pace.

Wandering around the city is both one of favourite and least favourite things to do. As the liveliness invigorates him but is overwhelming all the same and the impossible to ignore smell of gasoline and whatnot doesn’t quite stop bothering him every time he visits.

Izuku tries to stifle another sneeze when he stumbles upon a particularly vibrant looking market-street. It’s relatively normal compared to a certain market he frequents and he had helpfully reminded himself to bring a credit-card, both good enough of a reason to give in to impulse and take a look around.

It helps that he sees some familiar faces the moment he walks in, it’s reassuring to know and see that he really isn’t alone this time.

The market appears refreshingly mundane with many people just going about their daily business, regardless of everything going on just outside their reach. And Izuku is secretly glad that the wellbeing of his family doesn’t necessarily come at the cost of everyone else’s, Japan can live with a prefecture less.

Perhaps his father’s actions had even improved their quality of life somewhat in an indirect way. Because his family hardly ever leaves the borders of their ‘kingdom’ the amount of daily villain attacks have dropped to the point that there is no more speaking of actual daily villain attacks. As far as he had heard, days could pass by without any major incidents. Though he’s certain many heroes could beg to disagree with his assessment, which is their loss really.

A quiet bookstore catches his eye when he passes by, the place no doubt has very little costumers, especially this time a day. To his opinion it only makes the place more interesting to visit and maybe he could even bring back a little gift. Though reading books isn’t really in the stars for his father at the moment, Shouto would probably appreciate a nice novel to read. Gods know his friend needs something fictional, he’s starting to turn into some kind of conspiracy theorist with all of the news articles he’s been consuming, Shouto needs to relax a little.

But just as he had wanted to enter some commotion catches his notice, a boy rushes by him like hungry wolves were licking his heels and runs straight into a random alleyway. That same alleyway reeks of a trap even from the distance Izuku is standing, it doesn’t help that the boy who ran by him was limping slightly, dragging his left foot in a way that his keen eyes just can’t help but notice.

Ah, his consciousness isn’t going to leave him alone if he’d choose to ignore it. His decision was made for him before he is even aware of it himself and Izuku is sticking close to the walls and nearing the extremely shady alleyway before he can convince himself to do otherwise. Damn his heroic tendencies, if gets hurt he’ll be grounded for a month.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea young man?” A deep voice says, catching Izuku entirely off-guard. He had been so focused on the strange shadows turning the alley into some kind of nightmare abyss that he had forgotten to check his surroundings, it’s a bad habit he really need to curb lest it’ll come back to bite him someday.

Izuku turns to face the elderly man and his surprise must be clear to read on his face for the man chuckles lightly, “My apologies, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No- no it’s fine, I was just a little surprised.” Izuku reassures.

The elderly man was rather short and bony with a long silvery white beard, leaning heavily on a walking cane and wearing a smudged painters-smock. He was likely the owner of the atelier Izuku is standing right in front of, or better yet had been sneaking past.

He was doing a really good job at acting suspicious in front of people it seems.

But the atelier is just a single storefront away from the shady alleyway, it’s the perfect opportunity to investigate. “Is there often trouble around here?” Izuku asks.

“There is, criminal activity is greater among these parts than many may suspect, I seen plenty rather dubious figures wandering around here.”

“And the police won’t take any action?”

“I’m afraid not, there isn’t any proof.” The elderly man sighs, “And heroes can only work with situations that can be proven actually exists.”

A common problem, sadly. It’s the main reason heroes mostly deal with visible attacks and community service. The entrance of most heroes is so loud that most lesser villains will have fled the scene by the time they arrive. This means that underground trafficking and insignificant criminals get all the time they need to thrive, even though both are vastly outnumbered in most of Japan.

“I see.” Izuku looks the man straight in the eye, “Don’t worry, I’ll go and see if I can help.”

The elderly man steadily keeps his gaze, “That’s exactly what I’m worried about young man. I understand many of you dream to become heroes but-”

“- I am not a hero sir, not by far.” He has never once been properly identified by the law, but his alias already carries an ‘A rank’ just by reputation alone. “I have dealt with situations just like this many times before.”

There is a moment of silence uneasy enough for him to wonder if he managed to convince the man before he sighs, a tired sound that makes Izuku feel guilty in a way only his father could usually manage.

“Very well, if you can manage to help you’ll have my gratitude.” The elderly man’s gaze softens slightly, “But please do promise me to be careful, no one will blame you for running away.”

“I promise,” He means it. Though running away from the situation he’ll likely be walking into won’t be an option. “Thank you for your concerns.”

The strange darkness shrouding the shady alleyway appears to be the work of a quirk of some kind. It isn’t mist nor does it smell like anything. However it gives him a slight sense of trepidation, whether it’s the effect of the Quirk or pure instinct warning him of the possible danger to come, doesn’t make much of a difference to him. His father’s anger is a million times more frightening then this.

Otherwise only his vision is hampered, which is good news and bad news all in one, he’s going to have to go in depending on his hearing alone. Sticking close to the walls much like he did before seems like a good idea and this time he forces himself to pay closer attention to his surroundings. Getting caught by surprise could be a fatal mistake, if not for him then for someone else.

The first thing he can hear is the sound of people arguing over something and he could differentiate about five different voices, one of which sounds pained and coarse. That could only mean that he will have to deal with four likely dangerous people and one injured person, the latter being more of a problem than the former. He has no idea just how injured this person is and while his knowledge of first-aid more than enough, protecting or even moving someone injured brings its own risks. No matter what action he’ll decide to take, he’ll have to approach carefully.

Hence he’s creeping closer like a skilled assassin and soon he has take cover behind a large abandoned dumpster. The thing smells worse than a corpse somehow and it takes all of his willpower not to sneeze. What bothers him more than the absolutely horrid smell is the fact that even though he’s clearly within hearing distance he can barely understand what’s being said, despite the fact they’re clearly yelling.

It dawns on him perhaps a bit too late, that the mist messes with more than just his eyesight.

He can hardly tell just how close or far away they are but he has no other choice, he’s going to have to sneak in even closer.

Whilst he’s approaching the weakest voice grows quiet after a surprisingly clear sound of impact.

It appears he’s finally within hearing distance and his senses become clear as if he stepped out of a particularly dingy tunnel. It becomes shockingly clear to him that the only thing separating him and a group of dangerous individuals is an unstable pile of trash. Not the best cover but there’s little he can do about it now.

The first thing he can see when he peeks in is four people looming over a familiar hooded figure on the floor. One of men is wielding a rusted crowbar, the other two look burly and rugged enough not to need a weapon and the only woman in the group appears to be the source of the shadows, her hair a strange wisp of grey mist. It is staggeringly obvious that the shady group is mobbing on the injured person on the floor.

“Hah, the kid dropped like a fly.” Said burly man A.

“Brat was all talk,” the woman said, “What’s he holding anyway?”

Sure enough, the boy on the floor was desperately clutching a sports bag to his chest and Izuku’s heart lurches when burly man B yanks it out of his now loose hold. Somehow his legs move before he could even think and he leaves his hiding place straight into clear view before he could even think to regret it.

“Would you mind letting that go?” Izuku asks politely, but he holds his expression carefully devoid of anything that could be seen as a weakness.

“Oh it’s another kid.” Clearly the group of thugs wasn’t impressed. It’s nothing new to him that he’s underestimated for his short stature, in situations like this it’s both a blessing and a curse. The crowbar wielding man threateningly slaps his weapon of choice in the palm of his hand and steps forward with a sneer on his face. “Are ya lost?” The cliché delinquent coos disgustingly, “This’ no place to be playing hero rich rid.”

Burly man A cracks his knuckles and looms over him, “Where’s your mommy and daddy?”

Izuku doesn’t play along, “I assure you, I’m not lost.” He ignores the two mocking him and instead stares burly man B straight in the eye, “Nor am I playing any games.”

“Neither are we you damn brat,” the woman growls, “boy’s, why don’t you show the kid what happens to little meddling upstarts around here?”

“W’pleasure!” The cliché delinquent makes for a wide and powerful swing to the head, and from the corner of his eye he can see burly man A ready a punch to the gut, but despite their quick coordinated attack Izuku dodges them with ease. Burly man A swivels past him and the cliché delinquent’s crowbar breaks clean in half when he stops it with his left hand. Time seems to stand still for a moment, the smirk disappears off of the woman’s face when she realises that things hadn’t gone as expected. His two assailants stay unmoving, apparently unable to comprehend what just happened.

But Izuku has no such problems. “Consider this my last warning,” he throws away the broken weapon, the resulting clang echo’s through the now silent alleyway, “If you leave now I’ll let you go.”

Burly man A recovers first and raises his fist yet again, “Why you little…!”

The fight was over in the blink of an eye, when his attacker hits the floor his comrades join him soon after. The vines and roots he had summoned in preparation earlier made quick work of the unsuspecting crooks, in the end they had never really stood a chance.

Izuku makes very sure they’re not about to move from their bounds when he finally allows himself to relax. Originally he had wanted to resolve matters more peacefully, or at the very least less violently. But his Quirk responded to his call much more powerfully than he had anticipated, what originally meant to be a swift strike to the head to knock them out turned into a bone smashing hit into the concrete walls. There would have been much more damage had it not been for the roots reinforcing area. To his shock they didn’t seem to disappear like they usually did.

However there is nothing that can be done about that now. What’s more important is the injured boy on the floor a few metres away from him, razor sharp leaves open up a safe path for him to walk through but he pays it no mind.

The boy groans and shifts a little when he checks for pulse. Izuku sighs in relief, at least there’s no major spinal injury he needs to be mindful of when he carefully turns the boy onto his back. The tattered hood he’s wearing falls away to reveal a pained scarred face and pale blue hair, but Izuku doesn’t recognise him. The fact that whoever he saved is a complete stranger reminds him of reality, he has no idea what the unconscious person is capable of. And while he doesn’t regret helping him, not for even a second, he needs to be weary.

The shabby sports bag the crooks tried to steal catches his eye, which gives Izuku an idea. Whatever was in there must be important to the boy, meaning it must give away at least something about who’s he’s dealing with. He doesn’t waste another second and cautiously inspects the bag, only briefly hoping that it’s not anything like drugs for those people are the biggest pain to deal with, only to be surprised by a bundle of slightly bloody cloth.

Pealing the layers apart reveals a number of severed hands and Izuku hurriedly closes the bag up the way it had been earlier. “At least it’s not a head…” He mumbles to himself. The delinquents had absolutely no idea what they were about to steal.

The boy he had saved is someone with a past, the type of person Izuku is all too familiar with and those pasts are best left untouched. He grabs the rather heavy bag, heaves the groaning boy onto his back and drags him to safety, green foliage shielding him every step of the way.

“Here you go young man.” Izuku readily accepts the cup of steaming green tea handed to him by his kind host.

The elderly man, named Hinageshi Hisomeru, had saved him from a lot of trouble when he stumbled out of the alleyway with the injured boy on his back. He hadn’t noticed the commotion he had indirectly caused with his quirk, the plants he had summoned had towered over the roofs and into plain view causing panic among the common people. The memory is still fresh in the minds of all those who were old enough to remember what happened in Nara fifteen years ago when his father had conquered the prefecture. That they fear such a thing happening again is not all that farfetched, especially considering they don’t know who’s behind it or why it happened in the first place. His father’s identity is Japan’s best kept secret, it seems.

In any case, the resulting panic had caught him completely by surprise and for a moment he hadn’t known what to do. Walking away from the scene carrying a unconscious person on his back isn’t exactly inconspicuous and leaving the injured boy behind definitely wasn’t an option either. Just when he was about to about to risk it all and retreat back into the alleyway to call back home for help, he had caught the gaze of mister Hinageshi. The elderly man calmly walked his way through the mass of people, not even the police officers already on scene had noticed him pass by their barricade.

“Do not worry young man, come with me.” Mister Hinageshi had said to him with a startlingly clear voice, “I can conceal the both of us as long as you stay close.”

And as it turned out, he could do exactly that. Once safely inside the elderly man explained to him while they treated the boy’s wounds with the meagre supplies they had, that his Quirk gave him the ability to conceal the presences of himself and a maximum of three people near him from others. Such an amazing and convenient Quirk! It had fascinated him enough to distract him from what had just occurred, even for just a while.

Izuku’s gratitude to mister Hinageshi cannot be expressed with mere words, but that didn’t mean that he hadn’t tried. However it was without result, the elderly man had dismissed everything he said with a simple, ‘I did what I thought was right, that all there is to it.’

Once they had finally sat down to talk over tea, Izuku decided to change tactics. Instead of speaking in gratitude in the form of a civilian just saved, he straightens his back, squares his shoulders and looks the elderly man straight in the eye, “Thank you for helping us, I swear on my family name to repay you the favour.”

He isn’t sure what convinced the elderly man, but his eyes widen with what seems to be recognition. “You are the one they call ‘Denka’.”

No, it couldn’t be. If someone like mister Hinageshi was part of his family he would know, his art at the very least would have peaked his father’s notice. It takes a lot of his self discipline not to show his surprise, “How do you know about that?”

Mister Hinageshi smiles kindly, “There are very few who speak the way you do young man, even less speak of favours and swear on their last name.” He chuckles, “In matter of fact I know only one.”

“My father?”

He nods, “Precisely.”

“But how do you know about my father?” Izuku asks.

“My daughter is Quirkless,” Mister Hinageshi suddenly says after a moment of consideration, “My Quirk isn’t all that powerful and my late wife was also Quirkless, we had expected her to carry the same fate.”

Izuku’s hands tighten around his teacup, “My condolences.”

Mister Hinageshi smiles, but unlike the last this one hardly reaches his eyes. His wise eyes are weary with barely concealed sorrow and regret. “I’m certain you know how people respond to Quirklessness nowadays. My dear daughter had to escape discrimination, she had found a place to call home in the land your father now guards.”

Izuku isn’t sure what to say to that and his heart is at war on what to feel. Part of him is always elated to hear that the existence of Yomi brought someone a safe place to call home instead of despair, another part of him is heartbroken that someone had to run away from their home and family just to have a future. He couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be and he considers himself blessed to have such a loving family. Yet he couldn’t forget that it very well could have been him fighting for his life every day without purpose, wondering if there is even a reason to stay alive. It strengthens his resolve all the more to ensure his family’s safety and protect the people society rejected.

With this resolve in mind Izuku steels himself and speaks without showing his warring emotions, “My offer still stands, if there is any way I can return the favour for your kindness please tell me. I will do anything in my power to make it happen.”

“Absolutely anything?”

“Yes.”

Mister Hinageshi hums thoughtfully, then smiles his way brightly, “Allow this old man to ponder your offer for a while then.”

His shoulders drop without him wanting them to, he had started to lean forward in anticipation without even noticing. “Alright, take all the time you need.” Izuku tries his hardest not to let the pout show in his voice but sadly without much success.

He had really hoped the elderly man would ask to come back with him to be reunited with his daughter. Without a doubt would he already be taking another person back home with him, one extra wouldn’t be a problem. It wasn’t exactly the type of present he was looking for but artists are always very appreciated, especially by his father who’s particularly enamoured with traditional Japanese art forms.

It wasn’t helping that mister Hinageshi was sniggering mischievously, no doubt in amusement at his expanse. At least the elderly man didn’t seem to grieve anymore and Izuku takes solace in that.

Just when he was about to say something to change the subject into something a little bit more manageable, he is interrupted by someone groaning loudly. Izuku swivels around to see the injured boy he had saved try to sit up and rushes over to stop him. He can vaguely hear mister Hinageshi say something about getting more tea but focuses on reassuring the obviously distressed boy instead, the risk of him worsening his injuries was way to large to think about anything else.

At least he doesn’t have to worry about changing the subject anymore.

It had taken Izuku a while, but the strange boy calmed down soon enough and begrudgingly allowed himself to be helped up. It probably helped that he returned the boy’s suspicious bag the moment he could sit upright long enough without the risk of keeling over. In fact, he visibly relaxed at the sight of the threadbare sports bag filled with hands.

Weird. Though not the weirdest thing he’d ever seen, severed body parts are shockingly common to him no matter how hard his father tries to shield him from that particular side of ‘business’, but still weird enough to be suspicious.

“Normal people probably don’t carry around a sports bag filled with severed hands, you know.” Izuku casually starts when it becomes apparent that the strange boy isn’t going to break the silence himself, but when his pained face becomes extremely wary of him he ads, “Not that I mind really, your reasoning is nothing I should concern myself with.”

The weariness wanes slightly, “What do you mean you don’t mind?” The strange boy’s voice is very coarse, likely from disuse, and his language is stilted like he doesn’t quite know how to talk to him. “Who are you?”

Izuku smiles, “My name is Midoriya Izuku.” Giving away his full name is a sign of trust where he is from, he hopes the strange boy will see it the same way. “What name do you go by?”

The strange boy keeps quiet and thinks for a moment, his entire posture screams hopeful but distrustful to him. Izuku gives him all the space he needs and greets mister Hinageshi when he returns with tea instead. The elderly man leaves soon after with a brief smile to his injured guest, apparently knowing full well that his presence only makes him that much more nervous.

Though if Izuku has learned one thing, it’s that people who have lived a long time are extremely crafty. No doubt the elderly man will employ his Quirk to eavesdrop once in a while.

Izuku had been so preoccupied by his tea that he almost didn’t notice the strange boy mumble something, “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

“Shigaraki Tomura.”

That must be his name, although he isn’t sure if it’s an alias or not, since he included a last name as well. Most aliases didn’t bother with those, but Izuku takes whatever he can get. “It’s nice to meet you Shigaraki.”

“Tomura is fine.” Tomura says a bit more clearly.

If that isn’t a sign of trust he’ll eat his own hand. Though if he want to get anywhere in this conversation he’s going to have to take his chances. Izuku avoids eye contact and stares at his second cup of tea, “Alright. But Tomura, could you perhaps tell me what happened?” He asks vaguely on purpose. Whether he’s asking about the alleyway or the sports bag is entirely up to Tomura, as long as he get’s an answer anything would be fine. Though it is unlikely he will get to learn what he wants to so soon.

Tomura clutches the bag a little closer and frowns deeply, the expression looks like it’s pulling painfully on dry skin. Izuku cannot help but wonder when the last time was the other had gotten a good night of sleep or even a shower.

“If you’re not going to answer, than please drink some of your tea instead. You need to stay hydrated.” Izuku says lightly, trying not to show any disappointment. He’s not going to answer any time soon, that much is obvious.

Tomura turns to meet his gaze with widened bloodshot eyes, but turns away after a while and surprisingly does as asked. He chugs away at his tea like a parched man in a desert and Izuku has to actually try to slow him down lest he’d give himself nausea. Once finished Tomura coughs a little, which isn’t at all strange to Izuku from whatever it was he’d just seen, he puts the ceramic cup down with an unexpected amount of care. It’s only now that he notices that Tomura never touches anything with all five fingers, the most normal moments are slow and calculated yet also slightly awkward, as if he isn’t sure what to do sometimes.

It seems likely it’s the work of some type of contact based Quirk. Though it could also be the lack of sleep, Izuku doesn’t know what the other is like when he’s actually well rested.

“Why do you care about me?” Tomura finally asks. ‘Why did you help me?’ went unsaid but was still clearly heard.

“You looked like you needed help.” Izuku answers earnestly, “Who am I to ignore such a desperate plea?”

The last thing Izuku expected in response is the sheer awe on Tomura’s face, the blatant admiration is almost a little uncomfortable. But then again, the other seems to be radiating something like gratitude the entire time he has been awake, it was visible even through the layers of weariness he desperately holds on his person. Could the last question he asked be a search for validation?

“You really are as nice as they say.” Tomura says with obvious wonder, “I had heard about you before, they call you Denka right?”

Was it a coincidence or is he really that well know outside of Yomi? To be recognised by two people on one day is almost a bit concerning, nevertheless Izuku plays along and nods. “If you already know than I’d like to ask you something.”

No doubt Tomura knows about the way favours work, it’s a greater common knowledge then his existence after all, and Izuku might have felt like the boy would agree out of obligation had he not seen the admiration earlier.

As expected Tomura awkwardly scratches at his neck, and Izuku has to fight the urge to stop him, before shrugging lightly. “Sure… go ahead.”

“Would you like to come back with me to Yomi?”

Before he even finished talking, Tomura is nodding his head vigorously and appears to regret it immediately afterwards. Izuku takes pity on him and doesn’t say anything about it, instead he gets up and grabs his phone to massage home to Kurogiri. He slightly dreads having to tell his father what happened during his eventful day, especially after the entire fiasco from last week, but treating Tomura’s injuries is more important than childish fear.

Though that doesn’t make contacting home any easier.

“I’m going to massage home now to have someone pick us up. You should rest up a little more until then, Tomura.” Goodness knows the boy needs to, he looks absolutely miserable clutching his head like his life depends on it. But strangely yet luckily he takes his advise for what it is and carefully lays back down. It’s very likely that the concussion is much worse than Tomura originally let on, Izuku knows better than anyone that those on the streets have thick skin and even thicker skulls. Fighting through pain is a daily necessity for survival.

Izuku sighs and presses send. Seeing that everything has been quite hectic lately it would probably take a while before Kurogiri arrives, this should give him enough time to find mister Hinageshi and ask the elderly man to come along himself. He wasn’t about to leave things the way they were.

Finding mister Hinageshi was easy enough, the elderly man was in his kitchen reading a newspaper. Conveniently said kitchen was easily within hearing distance to where Izuku had been trying to get information out of Tomura, the crafty old man.

But Izuku doesn’t get the chance to give the elderly man his offer, the moment he walks in mister Hinageshi looks his way with a gaze that demands he listen. “I have thought about how you could return your favour.” He stands up with some effort, leaning heavily on his cane. “Rumours go you and your father have the ability to give and take Quirks, correct?”

Any words Izuku wanted to say die in his throat, he nods apprehensively. Why would the kind elderly man ask about such a thing?

“I would like you to take my Quirk, young Denka.”

Izuku’s breath stutters, “I’m sorry? I don’t think I understand…”

Mister Hinageshi sighs deeply, it’s an exhausted sound that reminds Izuku all too much of someone else. “I am old, this body of mine won’t last much longer. The only thing I fear in death is to have no more purpose.”

“I- I can’t…”

“This is what I wish for, please use this Quirk of mine to keep your loved ones safe.”

No, he won’t accept this, not like this. “I can’t do that- I can’t just take your Quirk and leave you here, you can come back with me and see your daughter again, I’m sure she would be happy to see you-!”

Mister Hinageshi’s self decrepitating smile stops his plea, “No, I don’t think she would.”

“Mister Hinageshi…”

“I wasn’t there for her when she needed me the most, I knew she suffered but I choose to look away. How could I hurt her all over again?”

Suddenly Izuku understands.

His Quirk hadn’t helped him and he hadn’t needed it to help. The guilt of having been able to safe someone he holds so very dear but choosing not to, must have been eating at him the entire time. Izuku can comprehend that, yet he cannot blame the man himself. What happened had happened, no amount of guilt and regret will change a thing anymore. But if this is what the elderly man so desperately wishes, who is Izuku to deny him this last wish? Who is he to judge?

Blinking away the unbidden tears in his eyes Izuku extends his right hand to mister Hinageshi, seamlessly slipping into the role of a leader. “If that is what you really want… then I accept your offer.”

His words came out with more strength and conviction then he had expected from himself, and if mister Hinageshi notices he doesn’t comment on it. The elderly man smiles gratefully and takes his hand, “Thank you.”

The pull of the Quirk rests right underneath his fingertips, with it he can feel the feeble life of mister Hinageshi and the guilt the elderly man had been living under. Despite it all he couldn’t help but ask one last time, “Are you sure?”

“I am, this way I’ll be at peace.”

Pulling the Quirk away from it’s willing owner was staggeringly easy and while it lessened in intensity, the foreign guilt remained. “It is done.” Izuku gently squeezes the hand in his hold, but doesn’t let go. “I can come visit you again right? I haven’t bought the gifts I wanted yet.”

Mister Hinageshi surprisingly squeezes back with much more strength then Izuku had expected the man to still have, “Any time you want young man, I’ll be waiting.”

Izuku smiles back and although he didn’t want to, he finally let’s go. He can feel the familiar chill in the air signalling Kurogiri has arrived, no doubt he would get concerned if he has to wait for too long. He bows for what may be the last time to mister Hinageshi and leaves without looking back or saying another word.

He’s sure he wouldn’t be able to go if he did.

Chapter Text

Kurogiri’s response to his call for help had been as quick and efficient as always. It helped that the man hadn’t asked any questions when met with the sight of Tomura, Izuku wasn’t sure that would’ve gone over well with the latter.

Naturally Tomura had shown distrust when a misty void appeared in front of his eyes, which was to be expected really, but he had allowed himself to be helped through. Minor victories to be proud of. Even though lugging an adult and a bag, with dubious contents he’d rather forget about, was still a struggle, they had all made it back home in one piece with little to no difficulties.

Izuku takes the opportunity to take a deep breath of the comfortingly familiar fresh air of mount Yoshino, which unfortunately jostles his pained passenger a bit too much for comfort.

He awkwardly mumbles his apologies when Kurogiri properly materialises in front of them. “May I be of any help young master?”

Izuku had wanted to shake his head but decided against it just on time, “No, thank you, I think we’ll be alright from here on.”

Imposing on the busy man any longer would be a bit too much responsibility for his already frazzled conscience to carry. To his relief Kurogiri didn’t argue with his reply, not that the man never did, not directly at least.

The man politely bows down the waist, said his goodbyes and presumably left to continue with whatever occupied him before Izuku had interrupted him.

Nevertheless, Izuku feels a twinge of regret at sending him away. Kurogiri could have actually been very helpful, at the very least in lessening the load literally resting on his dreadfully thin shoulder span. Being short is yet another trait of himself he often cursed through and beyond. Why had he inherited this of all traits from his dear mother? Surely it must be an act of balance of some sort, in return for his powerful Quirk and unfailing health.

A soft rasping sound in his right ear brings him out of his lamenting and back into unforgiving reality. How was he exactly going to carry an injured person and a heavy bag all the way to the medical department without causing Tomura internal bleeding on accident?

First of all, he should probably start moving, for standing still in the setting but still baking sun isn’t going to help anyone. He doesn’t bother trying to talk to Tomura, he doesn’t want to waste the other’s precious energy, energy best spend on walking. Yet the silence is quite uneasy, the reassurances he badly wants to say burns on his tongue.

Izuku was just about ready to throw in the towel, find the nearest rock to rest on and ask someone nearby for help- surely Shouto would be home and not on a mission away somewhere- before rustling in one of the nearby trees catches his attention. The reassuring gleam of silver tells him enough when a very dear friend drops down from the canopy.

“Shiruba!” Izuku calls out in excitement, momentarily forgetting about his unfortunate passenger.

Said unfortunate passenger jumps awake from his sudden shout, winces in pain and then freezes in fear in the span of just a few seconds. Izuku automatically tightens his grip to prevent the other from injuring himself any further and internally berates himself all the while. How does he keep forgetting that for the entire outside world Shiruba is quite the frightening sight to behold?

The source of both his happiness and consternation doesn’t seem to be bothered in the slightest by Tomura’s obvious fear, not that it ever is. When standing upright Shiruba is easily twice Izuku’s height, this usually doesn’t phase him in the knowledge that it’s a friend with a usually calm and gentle demeanour, but at the moment he wishes that it could shrink like a certain other giant often does.

Not seeing any other way out of the increasingly awkward situation, Izuku continues like he doesn’t notice the imminent panic attack resting on his right shoulder. When Shiruba leans down right in front of him and nudges his forehead with it’s nose, he cheerfully nuzzles it back hoping his smile is as honest and genuine as it was before.

“Good evening my friend, I’m glad to see you again.”

Shiruba huffs through his hair in response.

To his surprise Tomura calms down the moment he spoke to Shiruba, like his familiarity with it was reassuring enough to feel safe. He supposes it could be, but to trust a person that much so quickly, he isn’t all too sure what to think about that.

So he doesn’t think about it. Instead he hands the heavy bag in his left hand over to Shiruba, he doesn’t pass Tomura because as much as seems to have calmed down Izuku doesn’t want to risk anything, and carefully adjusts his hold on the other to support. He spares a moment to explain to Shiruba where he’s heading to, though unnecessary for the recipient and more meant for his increasingly miserable passenger.

Izuku doesn’t mention his concerns, he has learned a long time ago that for these type of people the gesture is more often than not considered patronising than it is appreciated, but he does make a beeline towards the medical department as fast as he dares. He is once again grateful that Kurogiri had the foresight to take them somewhere near his home, where their destination in mind was not too far away.

The rest of their track towards their destination is in a uneasy silence only one of their party of three remains unbothered by.

The only reason handing Tomura over to a trusted doctor was as easy as it was, was because Tomura had gone half unconscious again by the time they arrived. Izuku was quickly directed out of the way and told to wait outside the examination room as soon as the doctor laid eyes on his new patient.

The doctor, who goes by the name Yakushi, is a very skilled man and is one of the very few people who had stayed behind after the siege on his home prefecture. Yakushi was of the strict opinion that doctors should heal every patient who needs their help regardless of who they are, and stuck with the ideal for the entirety of the time he’s been working for father.

His Quirk suited his creed to perfection, as it allowed him to diagnose whatever ails people with a mere touch. Yet the doctor hardly depended on his Quirk alone, his greatest tools are his swift eyes and vast intellect. Izuku greatly admires the man since the first time they met.

Which had been when he was very young. The previous doctor, who had worked closely with his father before he was even born, had scared him quite a lot back when he was a child. So much so that whenever he got hurt he would hide away to avoid seeing the man. Inevitably his father had found out and the doctor, who’s name he had something to do with wings, wasn’t seen or heard of again. A bizarre incident Izuku doesn’t want dig into too deeply. But it resulted in something- or someone- more respectable and less worrisome.

However for all he is impressive, doctor Yakushi is a very serious and intimidating man. His no-nonsense attitude often gives the impression that he didn’t actually care about the fate of his patients, even if the opposite is true. Perhaps more often than not, the doctor is too impressive for his own good.

Izuku feels only slightly guilty that he’s glad that Tomura is probably not conscious enough to tell what’s going on around him. They probably wouldn’t have clicked very well.

Soon enough he is brought out of his mulling by the sound of the door being opened. Izuku doesn’t hesitate a second to meet the doctor halfway out. Doctor Yakushi, long used to his mannerisms, doesn’t seem bothered by his enthusiastic approach.

“How is he?”

“Your new friend is doing surprisingly well considering the state he’s in.” He hardly acknowledges Shiruba’s approach in favour of putting on his reading glasses and glancing over his notations. “Malnourishment and dehydration, a mild concussion, multiple abrasions to the arms and chest, a minor fracture on the knee and several old infected lacerations in the process of healing, to name just a few.”

Doctor Yakushi didn’t pull any punches telling him some of his observations, like always. But now he is quite grateful for the blunt delivery. It made it all that much easier to understand the situation, and at the same time, much easier to confirm what he had suspected.

Izuku is all too familiar with the hardships of those who are forced to survive on the streets, but it never becomes easier to hear the results. It’s is only the respect he has for their strength and perseverance to live that prevents him from openly cringing in sympathy.

The doctor waits patiently for Izuku to nod for him to continue, “To begin with I cleaned and treated most of his injuries, and I advised him to follow a proper diet and to avoid strenuous activity for the upcoming period of time, to aid him in his recovery I prescribed him a low dosage of ibuprofen.”

Izuku nods in acknowledgement, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Doctor Yakushi smiles, the expression a little out of place on his stern features, and closes the folder in his hands. “You may keep him awake while I pick up the young man’s prescribed medicine and treatment plan.”

He barely gets the chance to the say ‘alright’ before the doctor is well on his way in a fast but unhurried pace. He shares a meaningful glance with Shiruba and is offered the bag with questionable contents, but he declines with the shake of his head. “Please watch over that a little while longer.”

He watches it takes the bag back and lay down out of sight next to the doorway. Izuku kneels down to gratefully pet it’s sharp ear, his silent request is heard.

“Thank you.” He whispers to it.

He makes sure to close the door to give them privacy when he enters the medical examination room and he’s careful to keep his footsteps quiet but audible to the miserable person laying on the hard bed.

The lack of movement in Tomura had him a little worried at first, but upon closer inspection he is still awake, much to his relief. There is a far away look in his eyes that Izuku is all to familiar with, almost uncomfortably so. Like he was watching a fabric of space beyond human comprehension, or perhaps just counting the grains of the ceiling and failing many times.

Izuku clears his throat slightly to make his presence known when the other didn’t respond to his approach. Tomura sluggishly moves his head his direction to look at him with bleary eyes. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought that doctor Yakushi had drugged him earlier.

“Hello Tomura,” Izuku greets softly with a smile, “I’m glad to see you’re still awake.”

His words are met with nought a response, the subject of his current concerns continues to stare straight through him for a moment longer. Only now that he has the time and chance to, he finally gets to properly see his face. The boy, obviously older than him, appears clearly sleep deprived, and his features look much sharper than they should. The shadows under his eyes are the deepest he’s ever seen, but not any worse that his actual skin. The skin on his face, especially around the eyes, and on the neck are covered in scars and a litany of welts.

“You…” Tomura’s raspy voice shakes him from his observations, “You wanted to hear about my past, right?”

The sudden offer puts him slightly off kilter, “Yes, but only if you want to tell me.”

“You helped me,” Tomura closes his eyes, “You helped me when nobody else did… You shouldn’t have.”

The latter thing he said puts a frown on his face. “What do you mean I shouldn’t have?”

Tomura keeps silent for a moment before he heaves a painful sounding sigh.

“I killed them. My family, the orphanage, I killed all of them.”

It doesn’t take long for Izuku to connect the dots. Tomura gave a last name, something only those who are from an actual family occasionally try to keep up. He barely has the skills to survive on the streets, meaning that he hadn’t been on them for long. His only possessions the clothes on his back and a bag filled with past regret.

Yet despite the overwhelming proof, Izuku cannot say with certainty that Tomura wasn’t speaking out of misplaced guilt. Who was he to judge with only half the story laid out in front of him?

“Tomura, I would like you to know that I won’t regret helping you, no matter what.” When he looked about ready to argue his words he continues, “You are not the only one with a past best left behind, many here have committed acts that could only ever be described as horrible crimes. What matters to me most is what you decide to do with the future not what you have done in the past.”

Finally, finally it seems that his words are hitting home. The expression on Tomura’s face is a twist of emotions he cannot quite identify, however his wide eyes seem almost childlike. But if there had been anything that he had wanted to say, he didn’t get the chance to.

Izuku hears the clear echo of footsteps before the door is opened with a resounding click and doctor Yakushi steps in with a paper bag in hand. He returned much quicker than Izuku had first anticipated.

The man takes a single look at Tomura and turns to him with a raised eyebrow, “I most certainly hope that you haven’t done any permanent damage while I was gone.”

Izuku cannot help but chortle a little at the tone of his voice, “We talked a little, that is all.”

“So he can speak,” Yakushi approaches the both of them, “That is good to hear.”

He blinks in surprise and absentmindedly accepts the bag offered to him. There hadn’t been a single instance where he had been concerned that Tomura couldn’t speak. If anything he seemed rather eager to talk with him.

Doctor Yakushi didn’t seem as surprised or phased by the situation as Izuku felt, the man acted like the silence of his patients was a common thing. And now that he thought about it, it probably was.

“Inside that bag is the medication I told you about, be sure to follow the written instruction included with them.” The doctor looks towards Tomura, who seems to try his hardest to act like the man wasn’t there, “You can read, right?”

Tomura begrudgingly nods, looking entirely uneasy at having all of the attention turned towards him.

“Good, than that shouldn’t be an issue.” He straightens his glasses, “I would also like to see you here again soon for a check up on your progress, I’ll contact you once it’s needed.”

Doctor Yakushi turns to Izuku with a trace of a smile, “The both of you may go now, have a nice day.”

And just like that he is gone again. The man must be busy just like everyone else, especially since he’s in charge of the entire medical department of the Yoshino district, many depend on him on a daily basis. Izuku is glad the man took the time out of his busy schedule to help Tomura, he wouldn’t have been sure who to go to otherwise.

That is one thing taken care of, now the other.

He turns back towards Tomura when he hears a faint sound of rustling, only to see the other struggle the sit up. With a jolt he hurries to help him upright properly, the action somewhat awkward with one hand occupied.

“You can stay in my home for the time being, if you’d like.” Izuku says once Tomura is no longer tottering. “It’s nearby here and you won’t be alone.”

“D’you mean that?” Tomura slurs.

“Of course, it would be a cruel thing to joke about.”

It was immediately after those words that he wanted to punch himself in the face. Such an insensitive thing to say, for all he knew people have actually taunted him with offers of a safe place to call home, something that al those who live on the streets deeply long for. Luckily Tomura either hadn’t fully comprehended or really didn’t care about what he said.

Somehow he doesn’t feel like bringing up the subject either. The conversation, if he could call it that, is promptly dropped. He doesn’t really attempt to start talking with the other now leaning on his shoulders again, not knowing what to say. Even Shiruba is greeted with silence and a smile.

The entire situation seems somewhat absurd to him, usually he wasn’t as awkward or uneasy as this, his social skills is something he’s usually quite proud of. But something about Tomura makes him feel like he’s walking on eggshells, not in a threatening way but more or less like he’s trying to balance thin glass on a single finger. One wrong move and everything falls apart.

He just doesn’t know how to act.

Of course he shouldn’t have expected to enter the premise of his home without immediately walking into his father, but that didn’t mean that he hadn’t hoped to. He never knows what to expect when introducing new people, both because of his father’s somewhat compromised mental state and lack of knowledge on the other party.

Which is exactly the reason why he feels dread gnaw in de back of his mind at the sight of his father and then immediately feels bad about it, a common occurrence for the day it seems. However his feeling of guilt is eased in favour of vague amusement when he notices Shouto hanging onto a short leash attached to Aramis for his dear life, the excited dog looked about ready to give Shouto another tour around the entirety of mount Yoshino. Yet the other two dogs of the pack sit obediently on either side of his father’s legs, which didn’t help ease the hilarity of the strange scene in the slightest.

He reminds himself to thank his unfortunate friend for the small distraction later. Alas it wasn’t meant to last.

“Welcome home Izuku.” His father’s tone is light and warm, but there’s something oddly like scorn in his near sightless gaze when he looks towards Tomura. “Would you mind introducing us to our guest?”

Izuku glances at Tomura to see whether he would like to speak for himself, only to see the other stare at his father like he just stumbled upon a god. He can’t help but find the sheer marvel clearly read all over his face a bit weird. Nevertheless it seems apparent that Tomura isn’t going to speak up, or mind being spoken of, any time soon.

“This is Shigaraki Tomura, he’s injured and doesn’t have a place to call home, so he’s going to stay in one of the spare rooms for a while.”

Father walks up closer and squints his eyes slightly, the small actions somehow manages to look somewhat menacing, not that Tomura seems to notice. He leans in closer, until he’s about an arm’s reach away, and says, “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

Izuku’s heart stutters just once, immediately pulling his father’s attention away from Tomura. The menacing gleam in clouded peridot green quickly fades towards concern and Izuku is for once glad for his father’s keen bloodhound senses. He doesn’t hesitate a second to take advantage of the opportunity handed to him, “Maybe you’re confusing him with someone else?”

Father stays quiet for an agonizingly long moment, but to his relief he only smiles and briefly pats his head. “Perhaps, but it is of little matter.” He walks back towards the dogs patiently waiting for him, and to an increasingly troubled Shouto, but looks back with the same smile halfway there. “Allow me to welcome you then, Shigaraki. I most certainly hope your recovery will be swift.”

The sudden change in attitude towards the injured person draped over his shoulders is a little staggering, even though the faint sense of menace towards Tomura never disappeared. He barely manages to recollect himself to promise his father that he’ll be there for dinner without stuttering out something weird.

In response to his promise father’s smile becomes somewhat more genuine and without another word he heads back inside. Shouto seems to gather his courage and lets the leach go to wave at them with his right hand. Unfortunately for him this prompts Aramis to jump back into action and drag him away towards it’s quietly retreating pack.

Even from the quickly growing distance Izuku can hear Shouto shout out in alarm and his father laugh at his expense. The scene is so familiar it’s comforting and Izuku cannot help the smile from appearing on his face.

He doesn’t need to look at Tomura to see if his expression has changed, the other had hardly breathed throughout the entire exchange.

Izuku doesn’t know if his words will be properly heard if he says anything now, so he says nothing. He merely adjust his grip carefully to prevent Tomura from feeling too much discomfort and starts walking again.

If the other appreciated his efforts, it wasn’t told.

Choosing an empty room for Tomura to rest in wasn’t that much of an issue, there were plenty of rooms in the leftmost wing of his large home. The wing is the nearest to the medical department and often left open for those who are injured, but not critically so, to recover.

Even more fortunate is that the nearest available room is only a few metres removed from the side entrance, perfect for his increasingly painful back. His muscles almost beg him to finally rest after having hauled Tomura around for an hour, not so much because of his weight but for having kept as steady as possible to prevent jostling any injuries.

This much desired rest however, is still somewhat out of his reach. Despite the silence between them Izuku wouldn’t forgive himself if he simply ditched Tomura in his temporary room and legged it. No matter how much he would love to do so.

Still he keeps up appearances, holds his slightly frayed nerves together and thanks Shiruba when it helpfully opens the door for them. He then asks it to leave the bag with suspicious contents it took care of by the nightstands and makes a slow but purposeful beeline to the bedside.

It eases his suffering somewhat to see that Tomura looked just as relieved to be off his shoulders. Izuku sits down next to him and tries not to make a show of stretching his shoulders. But after a painfully awkward while of absolutely nothing he decides it’s about time to break the silence.

“You may stay here for as long as it takes to find a place to live.” He can see Tomura flinch slightly in surprise in the corner of his eyes. “But I must warn you not to wander off too much to the east side of the estate. Don’t worry, you’ll be able to see the difference.”

He adds the latter part just to be sure.

Yet he doesn’t want to sound too threatening to an injured person, especially because Tomura seems somewhat childishly inclined. The warning he gave isn’t anything special, it’s told to nearly every person new to his home.

The eastern side of the estate is where he lives with his father, Shouto and Kurogiri. Only their closest associates are allowed to enter, unwanted guests never get the chance to escape. He has never actually seen anyone ‘disappear’, but he has heard of those who tried to invade his home plenty of times to connect the dots and made it his personal mission to ensure that none will suffer that fate because of ignorance.

Izuku glances towards Tomura only to see that he appears to have fallen asleep. He gets up and walks towards the doorway, but not before glancing backwards once more.

“I’ll try to visit you tomorrow, in the meantime please don’t hesitate to ask for help should you need it.” Izuku says despite not being sure if he’s being heard. “…I hope you’ll rest well.”

Just when he was about to join back up with Shiruba and close the door to leave he hears Tomura’s now familiar hoarse voice softly say, “Thank you… you’re my hero.”

Somehow he isn’t sure whether he was meant to hear that, nevertheless a warms feeling blooms in his chest at those grateful words.

Being called a hero shouldn’t have made him feel as elated as it did, but the giddy energy coursing through his entire body when he closes the door behind him told him otherwise.

Izuku grins broadly towards Shiruba, “Come on, we’ve got to hurry or we’ll be late for dinner!”

He doesn’t miss the knowing gleam in it’s eyes.

Sadly the giddy feeling, like many things, doesn’t last. By the time he seated next to a completely worn Shouto at the dinner table he feels as drained as his friend looks.

The total lack of energy doesn’t appear to bother his father in the slightest. In fact he has an almost suspiciously cheerful smile on his face while he puts bowls of rice and plates with sashimi on the table. Izuku feels even more suspicious when his father kept sneaking entirely conspicuous glances his way, as if he’s waiting for something. Even Shouto was occasionally glanced at in expectation, though those stopped as soon as he’d noticed Shouto start to nod away.

After a moment that was awkward only to those with the mentality to be bothered by it, which was at the moment apparently only he himself, Izuku decides to take pity on his father’s growing impatience and takes some of the sashimi served in front of him.

It is immediately after the delicious taste hits him that he understands where his father’s excitement was coming from. It’s been too long since he has tasted fish as utterly mouth-watering as the one he’s currently eating. “W-what?”

Father grins proudly in a way that reveals gleaming white canines and would have been threatening had it not been so cheerful. “This,” he gestures to the delicacy in front of him, “is freshly caught Japanese white crucian carp.”

“How fresh?”

“Caught this very morning in the rivers gracing our homeland.”

Izuku can’t see himself, but he’s fairly sure that’s he’s mirroring his father’s expression at the moment. Fresh fish is hard to come by when you’re mostly cut of from the rest of the country you’re in. Which is the reason why Yomi often struggles with the import of the more mundane things, the black market being their only source from both the rest of Japan and other foreign counties. The fact that he’s eating fish caught this recently and locally could mean one of two things; either his father decided to go fishing by hand again, which he hadn’t done since he got injured, or…

“Did you catch these?” Izuku asks excitedly, because no matter the answer it’s going to be good news. “Or was it…?”

“The local fishermen?” Father fills in and his smile turns more fond when Izuku eagerly nods his head, “Indeed, after the long and hard work from a group of former villains, a fishery has officially opened today at the base of the mountain.”

“Papa that is great news!” He turns towards Shouto who was already stuffing his face with food, “Shouto are you hearing this?”

His friend nods more sedately and gives a thumbs-up, too busy eating to give an actual answer. He doesn’t give his general lack of response much mind, he’d rather focus on following his example.

From the corner of his eye he can see Shiruba impressively throw back an entire fish in one go. He stares at it with wide eyes until a warm chuckle from his father breaks through, he swivels back to see his father looking at him while resting his head on folded hands.

“As remarkable as our dear family’s eating habits are,” said impressive eaters repeat his former motion to look at his father in what appears to be surprise but father doesn’t heed them any further, “I’d much rather like to hear more about your day, Izuku.”

Immediately his mind goes blank and the burst of energy he had gotten from the excitement before simply disappears. What in the world is he going to say?

‘I went to the market in Musutafu but I noticed someone getting mugged, so I stepped in to safe the poor sod and beat up a group of four shady fellows, then my Quirk got a little out of control so I almost got noticed by the police. But don’t worry, I got saved by a nice old man and I later fulfilled his last dying wish in return for his help. As a result I now have a new Quirk and a new potential family member-’

Something told him that wasn’t going to go over well.

Izuku desperately racks his brain for an answer, but al that he blurts out to his patiently waiting father was, “I did a lot.”

Luckily for him his answer wasn’t met negatively, though that didn’t mean that he didn’t want to crawl under the table in embarrassment.

“And ‘a lot’ amounts to?”

Izuku awkwardly clears his throat and swallows, by now he only hopes that his trepidation isn’t noticed. A tough shot considering his father’s bloodhound tendencies, but he hopes nonetheless.

“I visited the market,” He gestures loosely with the chopsticks still in his hand, “In Musutafu. I had wanted to visit a bookstore there but I found Tomura instead, he was in a bad shape and had nowhere else to go so I decided to help.”

Shouto responds to his vague description before father has the chance to, “That sounds pretty tough.”

He zeroes in on his friend like a predator pouncing onto prey and takes the chance to divert the attention away from himself, “Speaking of tough, what were you doing with the dogs earlier, Shouto?” Though he mentally apologizes to him as he does.

At his question Shouto instantly goes back to looking too tired for the world, probably doing a pretty good imitation of himself earlier. But he’s a man on a mission, which is buying time to get his story straight. Besides that, he’s actually quite curious, it’s not everyday that he sees Shouto attempting to walk with the dogs.

His friend doesn’t seem like he’s about to answer, taking an entirely different approach to avoid his own personal doom by taking a large bite of rice and chewing at an ungodly slow pace, which likely looked a lot more silly than his actual story.

Sadly for Shouto, father seems to have freshly ran out of mercy, his amused and mischievous grin told as much.

“Your friend wanted to learn how to handle the dogs, but as you may have seen it hadn’t gone so well.” His father answers for Shouto.

It doesn’t take long for Izuku to figure out exactly what had been happening before. Shouto seemed to realise that much as well, his not so hidden secret is out.

“They just didn’t listen no matter what.” Shouto looks thoughtful for a moment, and then looks towards father with a slight frown on his face, “Maybe you told them not to listen before we left, sir.”

The claim seems to only amuse his father further, “What a mind-boggling accusation you’ve got there child, what reason would I have to do that?”

“For your own amusement.” Izuku answers for Shouto.

“Fair enough.” His father shrugs, “But I’m afraid that it wasn’t me this time, and frankly it wasn’t necessary.”

“Why?” Shouto asks.

“Watching that dog walk you was amusing enough.”

Dinner was over all too soon in Izuku’s opinion, but the laughter had helped ease the weight off of his shoulders. That alone was enough to give himself the strength to go to his father and ask if they could speak in private.

Not that he didn’t trust Shouto, but he had looked quite exhausted during the entirety of dinner and afterwards. His friend had even diligently started doing the dishes even when Izuku had first offered to do it for him, he couldn’t possibly ask even more of him now. He’ll just have to tell him later, if it’s important enough.

The walk towards his father’s bedroom isn’t a long one, but his mind still wanders a little while he listens to the sound of the dogs howling occasionally outside.

His father probably knew exactly what Izuku wanted to talk to him about, he agreed without asking and offered that they should head to his room for the needed peace and quiet. The telltale concerned gleam in his father’s expressive eyes hadn’t left since they had walked into each other outside. And even though father had shown an almost abnormal amount of patience during dinner, he knows it’s not going to last. One way or the other father will find out what happened on the market, and he isn’t willing turn Tomura into a scapegoat to safe his own skin.

Yet there had been that sense of distain coming off of his father when he fist laid his eyes on Tomura that he just cannot forget about, not to mention that it had sounded like father had recognised Tomura somehow. Had he really mistaken him for someone else?

Having reminded himself of that strange scene he cannot help but start to dread talking to his father.

“Izuku?” The sound of his name being called brings him back into reality, “You’ve been muttering over there for a while now, are you alright?”

He slaps a hand onto his mouth at the reminder of his bad habit and starts paying attention to his surroundings again. The sound of the grandfather clock ticking tells him where he is before the sight of his father waiting in the open doorway can. Aforementioned father is looking increasingly concerned by the second.

The realisation had him quickly remove his hand to reassure him that he’s fine. Father didn’t look like he believed him in the slightest, but takes his words at face value and wordlessly gestures for him to go inside before him.

Izuku can hear his father lightly shut the door after a short while when he unceremoniously plops facedown onto the soft bed, he can also hear him snigger a little and sit down next to him.

He semi-reluctantly straightens himself up to face his father- because he can’t very well convince his father he’s fine when his face is buried in bed sheets, no matter how comfortingly familiar they smell- only to immediately notice his first successful attempt at calligraphy framed on the wall next to the door.

By no means is he proud of the thing, it’s still messy and barely legible, but the sight of it puts a smile on his face nonetheless.

Izuku can’t help but point at it, “Why did you put that on your wall?” Because his father’s eyesight in negligible and there is no way he would even be able to properly see it unless he’s almost face to face with it, from his perspective it can’t be more than just a shapeless black splodge.

Father mirror’s his smile back to him, “How could I not? It is a fond memory.”

Such blunt honesty, it’s like his father didn’t realise just how embarrassing those words could be, even if it’s not necessarily in the negative way. Izuku hides his blush with a cough, but unlike what he had expected, father’s smile turned more subdued.

“You wanted to talk to me about something?” Father gently inquires, “was it about what has happened today?”

Without a doubt his father knew exactly that he hadn’t even nearly told the entire story during dinner, he has an omnipotent sixth sense for such things. Izuku sighs resigned, hopefully his father will remain as calm as he is now after he’s done.

“I did tell you earlier that I had visited the market in Musutafu, right?” Father nods. “Originally that was what I had planned to do but…”

He starts his rather long and detailed retelling of how he had first noticed the injured Tomura rush by, before he had know who he was, and the kind elderly man that had warned him of the situation at hand. He makes sure to hold nothing back, not on how the shady group attempting to rob Tomura had attacked him first and how had quickly put them on their place, not even on how his Quirk had responded to his call much more powerfully that he had expected. He had to try his hardest to ignore his father’s minute flinch when he told him that.

It is the part where he gained his most recent Quirk where Izuku finally staggered. At this point he has all but snuggled up to his father’s side, hoping that one of them will find comfort in the motion.

But much to his surprise it seems to be exactly that part of his tale that his father is most interested about.

“What about this Quirk, Izuku?” He asks whilst tenderly carding a hand through Izuku’s hair. “It wasn’t there this morning.”

He wonders for a split second how his father could have possibly known, only to remember that he often assesses the small amount of Quirks residing within him. He does so in an almost obsessive manner, as if he’s terrified something could go horribly wrong. The gentle pulse of father’s Quirk is such a common occurrence he barely takes notice of it anymore.

Izuku briefly considers his words and lightly bites the inside of his lip as he shifts to properly look his father in the eye. The sheer emotion gleaming within piercing green almost makes his breath still in his throat, but he presses through.

“The kind elderly man that had helped Tomura and I…” He looks down at his hands, “I had wanted to return the favour, I had even sworn to do so on my name.”

The intensity of father’s gaze doesn’t lessen, if anything it grows sharper.

“At first he had refused, but I insisted. After a while he had said he’d consider, and he told me about…” He shakes his head, “Before Kurogiri arrived to pick us up, he told me about his daughter who was- is Quirkless. He deeply regretted not having been able to help her when she was bullied out of her home, he said… that he had knew about you, he knew what our Quirk could do.”

For some reason his eyes start to burn with unbidden tears, the pressure in his chest grows until he feels like he’s about to choke. A warm hand gently rubbing his back gives him the strength to continue.

“He said he was getting old, papa. That he wanted for his Quirk, that had never been able to save his daughter, to have a purpose.”

“So he gave it to you.” Father says in a strange tone.

Izuku blinks away his tears, “He asked me to take it. After his story I couldn’t say no…”

“The man that helped you, what was his name?”

He looks up at his father in surprise but answers with some effort, “Hinageshi Hisomeru, why do you ask?”

Father appears thoughtful for a moment, before he gestures towards a scroll with a Sumi-e painting hanging on the wall above his desk. It’s a painting he’s very familiar with and often admires. “The artist, a young lady that lived in the capital with her student, who had made this painting also went by the name of ‘Hinageshi’.”

For a frightening moment his heart seems to stop in his chest. A foreign surge of both denial and hopefulness makes it incredibly hard to focus. He wants to desperately ignore the use of past tense and believe that perhaps his father was speaking of someone else. But he also cannot overlook the coincidence, the old and tired mister Hinageshi had paintings, just like the one he cannot tear his eyes away from, displayed proudly in his home. Even the signature is nearly identical.

“Does she still live there?” Izuku asks despite himself, trying desperately to shake the unbidden image of mister Hinageshi staring at him through meticulous brushstrokes of ink.

He can see father stare at him with an emotion he just can’t place, an emotion he’s been seeing staggeringly often lately. “She passed away from illness several years ago.”

The tears he had been trying to stop the entire day since taking ‘Conceal’ finally break free. With them is an emotion of intense grief that he can’t recognise, the feeling not his but someone else’s. The image of Hinageshi wavers to the point he can’t even tell who he’s looking at, until father blocks his sight and takes him into his arms.

This was not what Izuku wanted, not what he expected. But fate was something none can control. All that he can manage to do is cry in his father’s embrace, and hope that with the tears, the feeling of grief will also flow away.

Yet a last thought crosses his mind before he finally falls asleep.

Did his father, with many Quirks and even more years weighing him down, suffer just like this?

Chapter Text

The past few days had been difficult to say the least, but by keeping himself busy he hardly had the time to mourn or regret anything. The occasional faint echo of emotions distinctly not his made his skin crawl with unease yet it was nothing compared to actually using the Quirk he had taken from, or rather been given by, mister Hinageshi. Despite the struggle his father vehemently insisted that he’d practise with the Quirk regularly to ensure it won’t come back to bite him later, it’s a sentiment he would have thoroughly agreed with, had aforementioned Quirk not been so very busy biting him right at that moment.

However not everything about the past few days had been necessarily bad. Izuku had managed to keep his promise to the newest addition to his family- even if he had probably looked like death himself doing so, not that Tomura had commented on it- and said new addition was making a swift recovery. The unfortunate sod looked like a new person after he slept a night and properly bathed for the first in what had to be a long time.

He had also managed to get rid of a large bulk of the weight that threatened to drown him again by ranting to Shouto about everything for hours, and his friend had taken everything with endless patience and an open mind. But Shouto’s response to his newest Quirk was still amusing, when thinking back on it he can almost hear the deadpan ‘cool’ again. Not that his poor friend had any idea what he was laughing about, his cluelessness made it even  funnier.

It was then more than even that he was undyingly grateful for having such a great friend, ranting to someone your own age is simply easier than someone middle aged or over two centuries old. Besides he couldn’t really rant to his father the way he does to Shouto, because without a doubt his frustrations would be taken a bit too seriously. That was a drama he’d rather not repeat.

But the return of the usual routine was short-lived, all too soon word came about the person they’d been trying to pin down for what felt like ages.

Hero killer Stain had been seen in the area of Hosu and for once it didn’t look like he was about to change territory any time soon. It was an opportunity they had been waiting for and just couldn’t waste.

Strangely enough his father hadn’t put up much of a fight when Izuku volunteered to investigate together with Shouto, but he had given the both of them very strict instructions to retreat as soon as even remotely necessary, stating that a single troublesome man wasn’t important enough to risk anything for. On top of that they weren’t allowed to go alone, even the promise of taking Shiruba along wasn’t enough, and they were to be accompanied by both Amuralde and Crimson for the duration of their task.

On the other hand, perhaps his father put up more of a struggle than he had first thought. It was almost as if he knew something about their simple mission was going to go royally wrong. Which is a foresight Izuku is more than willing to believe, for it had been right way to many times for him not to. But that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t hope that everything will go calmly as planned, not that things ever really do.

It’s a bit too late now for any regrets however, going back now seems hardly an option.

The early morning in Hosu is hardly anything beautiful, or even remotely calming for that matter. But the sky slowly changing colour is stunning no matter where one looks at it, the familiar sight is something he takes solace in. If only his loudly beating heart would do the same, he’s half convinced either Shouto or Shiruba can hear him from where they’re standing.

“Are you okay?” Shouto suddenly asks.

Izuku smiles back his way, “I’m just fine, don’t worry about me.”

Not that his smile is seen by the intended recipient. The aforementioned object of his annoyance is a sleek porcelain white and despite appearances actually quite comfortable, but the constant weight is something he isn’t used to, it doesn’t help that the mask distorts his voice a little into a deeper and slightly echoing tone. As a result he keeps fiddling with it like an impatient child with nothing better to do. No wonder Shouto became worried.

Izuku self consciously shifts the mask covering his face for the umpteenth time since he started wearing the damned thing.

His friend stares back at him blankly, like he almost always does, looking entirely unconvinced. It feels like he’s not convincing anyone lately. More than anything he wants to take the mask hiding his face off and properly look at Shouto, but he had promised on his name to his father that he would keep it on no matter what until he’s safely back home. He’ll have to make do with what he has.

“Say Shouto, how’s your progress with dogs?”

His ‘changing the subject skills’ save the day yet again. Or his day at least, Shouto’s face pulls into a grimace.

“… ‘I’m just fine, don’t worry about me.’”

“Were you parroting me just now?” Izuku snorts and inches closer to his friend to nudge him with his elbow, “There is no evading me, your fate is sealed.”

The entire thing sounded outlandishly ominous through the mask, not at all the playful way he wanted. Luckily Shouto knows him longs enough to know what he really means, the increasingly deep grimace on his face speaks volumes like that.

“I managed to walk with her yesterday?”

“Right, I saw you.” It was a more common middle sized dog named Lily, not even one of the three musketeers, and she had been dragging Shouto around like a wild horse. “Though it looked like the dog was taking a walk with you instead.”

Whatever bravado Shouto had managed to muster falters and his shoulders slump dramatically, he could almost see the raincloud hang over his friend’s comically passive face.

Izuku pats him on the shoulder compassionately. “You’ve have only just begun, I’m sure you’ll get it soon enough so don’t give up just yet!”

His motivational speech falls a bit short in his own opinion, because the mask he’s wearing makes anything he says sound like sardonic villain monologue, but it cheers Shouto up all the same.

“You’re right, I should try harder.” Shouto on the other hand sounds just as sincere as he looks, a loyal simpleton like always. He wouldn’t have his friend any other way.

Izuku was about to ask Shouto just why he’s so set on learning to work with dogs in the first place, when he’s interrupted by a sudden new presence behind them. He quickly swivels around to indentify the person and unconsciously reaches for the knife sheeted in a holster around his leg, but he quickly aborts the motion when he recognises just who he’s dealing with.

“Crimson, you’re back.” Izuku greets him casually, like he didn’t just mistake him for an enemy, and pretends he hadn’t seen Shouto grasp the hilt of one of the swords at his hip. His friend hasn’t completely settled down yet for some reason, his hand still rests on his weapon of choice and holds a stance ready for combat at any moment.

Crimson kneels down in front of them, a revering and vulnerable gesture he just cannot get used to being the subject of, “Yes Denka, I can confirm that Stain is indeed present and has been sighted in the west section of Hosu.”

Sensing that Crimson hasn’t finished speaking, Izuku remains quiet and waits for the man to continue. Yet from the change in angle he notices something peculiar on the little amount of skin exposed to the air, he doesn’t get the time to ponder on it however.

“Amuralde had relayed to me that she had noticed an extraordinary amount of hero activity in the city, and seen what appeared to be a hero student confront Stain in combat.”

At Crimson’s report Izuku’s heart skips a beat, all of the sudden they have little time to lose. Stain is notorious for being merciless for those who oppose his creed or stand in his way, whoever this student may be, they won’t survive for long. There’s a part of him that almost desperately wants to prevent the loss of another- likely innocent- life.

Izuku briefly steels himself for his next command, “Crimson, please regroup with Amuralde and distract the heroes for as long as possible, Shouto and I will ‘talk’ with Stain.”

Crimson’s response is instant, “Understood.”

He disappears in a blur of white, so fast his voice seems to be but an echo. The capabilities of the ever loyal right hand man of his father makes him wonder if his abilities is really limited to a simple stockpiling Quirk, but he shakes the thought as soon as it appears. Right now is not the time to analyse anything.

Izuku turns to Shouto who’s patiently waiting for him, his back and shoulders straight. “Let’s go.”

Shouto nods tersely and moves ahead like they had previously agreed. Izuku takes brief look behind him to see Shiruba ready to move, adjusts the mask covering his face one last time and follows after his friend. His speed makes it mere child’s play to catch up, running over rooftops is nothing compared to the rough mountain terrain he’s so very used to.

His gut tells him that they are approaching a potential confrontation, whether it’s Stain or the heroes in the area- it’s likely to turn violent. But as much as he respects this life-saving gut feeling, he will try his hardest to let the mission proceed as peacefully as possible and if this means that they’ll have to jump straight into danger- then he has little other choice.

They arrive on Stain’s location much sooner that he had first anticipated, the city truly is much smaller than he’d first thought. It’s a risky miscalculation on his part, but he refuses to let it get to him.

Just like Crimson had reported earlier Stain seems to be fighting a young hero wearing a suit reminiscent of pro-hero Ingenium, but on closer inspection it seems that the hero killer is merely dodging the attacks almost lazily. Whatever the situation may be, Stain isn’t taking the confrontation very seriously.

When he sees Shouto move from the corner of his eye, he gestures to his friend to wait and listen with a short tap on the left ear. They both inch closer until they’re almost directly above the scene, only barely out of sight. If they move in any closer they’ll risk being noticed.

His hopes for a more peaceful conversation are dashed when he sees Stain quickly grow annoyed of the student’s attacks. With a swift slash of an serrated army knife the hero killer cuts straight through his opponents armour. To his surprise he sees the student drop to the ground when Stain licked the blood of the blade with his abnormally long tongue.

It’s one thing to read about the possible Quirks a person may possess, it’s another to see it in action. There is a small part in him that shivers in excitement and makes his hands itch to do something, but the warning given to him by his father before he left rings clear in his mind. ‘Don’t let that fool anywhere near you.’

Izuku tenses when he sees Stain break the helmet hiding the identity of the fallen hero student, revealing the positively enraged face of someone roughly his age. It takes him too long for his liking to recognise the boy as Iida Tenya, the earnest student he had seen at the sportsfestival. The deadly glare in his eyes was so out of place that he almost hadn’t recognized him.

The brick stone of the alleyway they were standing over made it somewhat difficult to properly understand what was being said by the people below, however some of Iida’s words are staggeringly clear, “…I’ll never forgive you for what you did…”

Stain obviously didn’t respond well to whatever Iida was saying, but the echoes made his reply unrecognisable. Fortunately his actions speak for him, Stain takes one of the swords off of his back and readies for a killing strike through the neck.

They cannot wait any longer. Izuku hurries to signal to Shouto to intervene, something his friend gladly obliges to, and makes sure to keep a steady hand out to stop Shiruba from following. He’s almost certain that Shiruba’s hulking form won’t make a positive first impression. The less pressure they put when intervening, the less chance things will escalate beyond their grasp.

Except that Shouto blasts Stain away with well aimed spikes of ice and enters directly from the entrance of the alleyway. Izuku sighs quietly from his perch above, so much for peaceful intervention.

Predictably Stain takes a fighting stance in retaliation and glares Shouto’s way with barely concealed menace, something his friend gladly mirrors. The shrill sound of the traditional katana Shouto draws breaks the brief silence with near brutal force.

Despite his exasperation at Shouto’s characteristically straightforward approach to ‘delicate situations’, Izuku is actually quite grateful for it this time. Stain is effectively distracted and Iida is too gobsmacked to really process anything. Which gives him the time he needs to tell Shiruba to stay on lookout and activate ‘Conceal’ on himself to join the fray without being noticed.

Unfortunately he isn’t skilled enough to use ‘Conceal’ on anyone else with him, much like mister Hinageshi had so effortlessly done. The short time he had with a completely new Quirk was barely enough learn it’s in and out’s meant that he was still stuck with a solid time-limit of roughly five minutes. Using it for any longer makes his ears bleed and throws his balance off to the point of rendering him near defenceless. Which is logically the last thing anyone wants in pretty much any situation.

A lot rests on Shouto’s ability to keep Stain busy long enough.

Izuku inches further to the back to avoid the possibility of being hit, only to almost trip over another person motionless on the ground. For a moment he has a hard time hearing anyone talk over the sound of his own heart racing. Using ‘Conceal’ is already straining his senses, he doesn’t need a minor heart-attack to add to his ever growing list of concerns. Nonetheless he still takes a moment of his limited time to see who the other unfortunate soul on the scene is, but he doesn’t recognise the man- though he’s obviously also a hero, because no one else would walk around in native American styled clothing otherwise- and his time to think on what to do next is running seriously thin.

“I don’t know or care who you are, I’m not letting you interrupt my duty.”

He swivels around to see Stain take a threatening step towards Shouto. Luckily Shouto isn’t phased, he silently adjusts his stance further preparing for attack. He can almost hear his father admonish his friend again for telegraphing his movement so obviously, but this could also work in their favour. According to his analysis of several reports he’d read Stain is more likely to hold back if Shouto seems inexperienced.

In hardly a blink of an eye both the hero killer and his friend clash at blinding speed, the screeching sound of metal meeting metal echoes of the walls. Izuku knows he can’t keep watching forever. With every second passing by the chance of Shouto getting cut and immobilised increases, he can imagine the scenario so clearly that he can almost see Shouto collapse to the ground just outside his reach. With climbing trepidation he takes the knife out of it’s holster and as the hilt burns in the palm of his hand, time slows to a crawl. The previously rapid attack and retaliation freezes into place right in front of his eyes.

The rest of the world blurs around him and he sees Stain’s neck blatantly in the open, the knife in his hand feels almost unbearably heavy yet so light- it would be too easy. He could end the fight right there and prevent anyone from getting hurt, or he could risk it all for a potential ally. However even though he could almost feel the blood shed by his target rapidly dry on his skin and hear the heavy thud of a body hitting the ground, he pulls back.

The last dredges of ‘Conceal’ disappears off of his skin much earlier than he had originally planned. Everything starts moving again. Stain notices him and jumps away in surprise, Shouto seizes his attack with widened eyes. In the fraction of time that had transpired Izuku had unknowingly moved to stand in between the battle and Iida.

He smiles despite the mask covering his face and gestures to his friend to lower his weapon. Shouto doesn’t hesitate to comply, he knows this even without looking his way, his friend’s ability to adapt is without fail. He keeps his gaze trained on Stain who has yet to move and yet to relax. His next words come with little hesitation.

“Greetings, Akaguro Chizome.” Izuku bows slightly down the waist, a show of respect and deceptive vulnerability, “My name is Denka, I would like to talk with you.”

Chizome’s eyes widen at the casual mention of his true name, “You- how do you know my name?”

“I have learned many things about you, yet I still feel like I know too little.”

A somewhat falsely confident smirk crawls onto Chizome’s face, “What is there for someone like you to learn from the likes of me?” His stance changes into something more casual and the man shrugs, “Can’t you learn anything you want from those loyal dogs of yours?”

“Indeed I could, but that would defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it?” Izuku gestures towards Chizome, “What I would like to know is your esteemed creed in your words.”

With false bravado, obvious to someone who has seen through similar behaviour too many times to count, Chizome raises his sword to Izuku’s eyelevel. “Fancy words, do they have any meaning?”

He can see Shouto tense in the corner of his eye, but he stops him before any threats can become real. “That entirely depends, do your actions towards a mere hero student have meaning to them?”

“‘A mere hero student’, that foolish boy attacked me first in a attempt to exact revenge, he proved to me that he too is unworthy.” Chizome speaks like a person who believes thoroughly in his own words, a person so utterly convinced of his own little world he sees nothing else.

A person thoroughly distorted, slowly losing that piece within themselves that at one point made them just like everyone else. It’s evident to the point that Izuku can see the distortion in the air like a thick cloak of mist.

“Unworthy, of what exactly, of living?” Izuku takes a step forwards, “Unworthy of the title hero?” He ignores the gasp coming from the floor by his feet, “Unworthy of his power?”

Chizome remains strangely silent, lowering his sword once again. “Why bother trying to save him? He’s not even one of your people, he should be none of your concern.”

There is this glimmer in the hero killer’s eyes, a gleam he had seen several days ago from someone entirely different, yet also quite the same. “That might be true, but I cannot simply ignore that which is happening right in front of me, my heart won’t allow me to.” He takes another daring step forward, “I won’t allow a child who made a foolish mistake once, pay with his life.”

The fabricated smile on Chizome’s face twists into something more honest. “Is that so…” Izuku sees Chizome reach for a dagger and sees Shouto respond exactly the same, “It’s a shame I have to do this then, but I can’t let anyone intervene. People don’t ever change, therefore I have the get rid of this pest before he can dirty the world anymore then he already has.”

In response to the threat he can feel energy burst through his veins, Quirks nag at him to activate and to attack but he resists. Just a little longer, if can convince Chizome to stand down-

A loud air piercing roar stops everyone from moving. It’s sound of alarm, one he recognizes all too well. Fate plays into his hands for once. Izuku can see that whatever haze of blood-thirst that blinded Chizome earlier has been temporarily lifted.

“That is our warning, the heroes are coming this way.” The hero killer’s eyes quickly return back to him, “We can escape together and speak there where we won’t be interrupted.”

When Chizome still doesn’t budge, Izuku attempts one final push. “You’re a skilled man Chizome, if the hero student or your original target truly appear to be the nuisance you suspected them to be, it shouldn’t be too much of a chore the find them again and finish the job.”

Another roar tells him that they’re running out of time, he can even see Shouto occasionally glance towards the fallen Iida, likely seeing the student begin moving again, and heroes are without doubt coming nearer by the second. Just when he was starting to contemplate leaving without their intended target, Chizome spontaneously stores his weapons and steps forward to meet Izuku halfway.

“Very well, just this once I shall play along.”

Izuku feels so grateful he could almost cry, not that he can show that type of weakness when he finally earned everyone’s respect, and gestures wordlessly for Chizome to walk ahead. When the hero killer has passed by him Izuku takes a daring glance towards Shouto. He’s only mildly surprised to meet his friend’s eyes, Shouto appears to be very focussed yet he mostly seems to be calm. He can’t help but hope that such calm will remain, because he frankly wouldn’t know what to do otherwise.

He doesn’t look back when he leaves the alleyway, not to the two injured people he leaves behind and most certainly not to what could have been. The almost heavy stare of Shiruba doesn’t leave his back, and he feels almost painfully conscious of the knife sheeted against his leg. The knife he almost used to end another life, the same knife gifted by someone dear to him. A certain someone who’s starting to feel like a stranger, like a rift in his past, like a person supposed to be there but suddenly gone.

Something tells him that his luck isn’t going to last.

Izuku had hoped to successfully evade the heroes and return home safely without further conflict, but the life of a ‘notorious S ranked villain’ is never that easy.

The first sign that something wasn’t quite right was the fact that Chizome spontaneously stopped walking in the middle of the street, another was Shouto doing the exact same thing. The third was an unavoidable sense of approaching danger that nearly forced him to stop in his tracks as well.

It doesn’t take long for him to figure out why his friend and temporary comrade stopped, meeting them out in the open was a group of heroes that Izuku doesn’t recognize. However the aforementioned group most definitely wasn’t the source of the approaching threat, none of the heroes appear even remotely intimidating enough for such a powerful force of presence. Yet despite not recognizing them, he makes sure not the underestimate them. He keeps his steps calm and in control, until he stops little way before where his friend and the hero killer are staring down their new adversaries. He doesn’t hesitate to directly face the heroes like he had with Chizome.

Push come to shove he has some time left with ‘Conceal’, he could create an escape route if necessary. Fate is still with them.

“A child…?” He hears the only heroine of the group mutter to her colleagues.

While it is a possibility, Izuku is sure that the confusion obviously radiating from the heroes isn’t directed at Shouto. He almost feels embarrassed at being underestimated so quickly, when he had given them common courtesy and the benefit of doubt. Luckily his mask covers his burning face, otherwise he probably would have proven their assumptions right.

Surprisingly it’s Shouto who speaks up first, “What do you think our next move should be, Denka?”

Ah, Shouto gave away his alias just like that. If he hadn’t been blushing like madness before then he definitely is now, to hear his friend stand in defence of his non-existent pride like that…

To his shock the heroes seem to be frightened into silence as soon as they hear his alias. Their fear is quite blatantly written all over their faces. Izuku had heard before that his alias had gained some notoriety on the streets and in law enforcement, but he had never expected it to be to this degree. Though it explains Chizome’s willingness to cooperate earlier.

“The answer is simple, we-”

Izuku doesn’t get the chance to continue, an enraged yell from his left interrupts him and breaks the brief quiet. He barely had the chance to dodge a deadly kick to the head. Yet again he has to quell the burning need to retaliate.

“I won’t let you get away with what you did!” The attacker he recognizes to be Iida yells, though it appears that the intended target wasn’t him but- “Don’t you dare run away Stain!”

The rage is obvious in Iida’s eyes. Izuku is almost certain that he can see the beginning of a distortion start to take shape, he makes the split second decision and summons the Quirk blazing at his fingertips. Powerful vines of Hedera stop Iida right in his tracks and drag him into the air before he can attempt to attack again.

Chizome, who was about to retaliate, freezes mid-reach for his weapon. Izuku ignores him in favour of addressing the raging hero student directly, “You wish to avenge your fallen brother, don’t you?”

Iida’s eyes widen in shock, his struggles still. Those minor actions are enough of an answer to Izuku. “Would Ingenium have wanted you to do such a thing?”

A deafening silence hung over them, the faint laughter of the wind and the silent whispers of the land are the only things he feels more than he hears. “You left an injured comrade behind to exact revenge, would a hero have done such a thing?”

He glances over a silent Shouto, straight towards the other heroes on the scene and back to Iida who has hung his head in shame, failing to hide the frustrated tears falling to the earth. “A hero isn’t something you can become, it is something you simply are. That is what I believe.”

Right after he finishes talking, the approaching sense of danger rages right at them in the form of a deadly blaze. The powerful flash of fire is stopped just in the nick of time by Shouto’s quick thinking, however the impromptu wall of ice doesn’t survive the attack. He’s glad that the mask protects his face from the blast of steam, because once the resulting mist settles their assailant is revealed and it is frankly the last person Izuku would ever want to see, but is glad to have noticed as soon as possible.

In all of his hulking glory stands Endeavour, accompanied by several other higher profile heroes. In an instant the tides have been turned against them, they’re vastly outnumbered and even more importantly, effectively blocked from escape. That much is evident to him even without seeing the expression his friend’s face or the stance of the hero killer.

It is clear that Izuku isn’t the only one aware of the change in power, the previously frightened heroes seem to have regained their courage at the arrival of the current number one hero. Any chances of peacefully avoiding any altercations he had desperately tried to create were promptly destroyed.

Izuku has to think and act quick. “Shouto-”

“Shouto!” The harsh voice of Endeavour brutally interrupts him, “Enough of this foolishness, return home this once!”

He can see Shouto’s shoulders tense under the hard gaze of his biological father, angry flames lick at his left hand ready to attack and Izuku feels powerless watching his friend’s shoulders tremble with barely suppressed fury. “How dare you…” Shouto raises his head and stares back defiantly into raging hellfire, “How dare you try and order me around, I’m not some weapon for you to wield- not to you, never to you…!”

Endeavour glare deepens and he takes another step closer, “You little-”

“My home is not with you Endeavour, it never was and it never will be!”

The part of Izuku’s mind not busy with trying to figure a way out of the increasingly dire situation is elated at the words spoken by his friend with full confidence. Though he is mostly occupied by the beginnings of an ember blade in Shouto’s left hand. If a real fight were to break out he doubts that anyone on his side of the field will emerge unharmed. And to make matters worse, Stain had silently moved forward as well, his entire body language promises violence and-even more so than Shouto- his bloodthrist is almost palpable in the air. Izuku is sure the hero killer is saying something, but he can’t bring himself to listen.

Two of the people on his side were both within reach but too far away for him to touch and Shiruba remains out of view until Izuku signals for it to be otherwise. The Hedera he had summoned had been burned to the ground it’s captive’s whereabouts unknown, his hand twitches almost violently at his side at the memory. He can only hope that Iida is unharmed.

When his eyes flick back to Shouto he was just in time to see his feet subtly shift and the blade of flame solidify.

Too much was happening at once, there wasn’t enough time for him to properly think. The instincts ingrained in him war against logic, he wants to both disappear within ‘Conceal’ and protect his comrades with all he has. So for once he decides not to think, not to see the intimidating figure of Endeavour prepare for attack, not to pay attention to the drawn blade of Chizome.

He blindly grasps Shouto by the arm as tightly as he can manage within the moment and yanks him back. His friend looses his footing slightly at the sudden movement and to Izuku’s relief the ember blade instantly fades away. The outside world seems slightly less overwhelming when he focuses on the shocked expression in Shouto’s face. He wants to say a lot- wants to reassure his friend that everything is alright- wants to yell at him for acting so foolish, but all that leaves his mouth is a simple “Don’t.”

His precious few seconds of calm is broken when a loud crash pushes them backwards. The air is brutally hot all of the sudden, even the wind screeches it’s indignation. A bright gleam of silver reflects the light of the rising sun and breaks through the thick smoke with a piercing roar. Shiruba stands protectively in front of them and had taken the brunt of Endeavour’s attack, but remained unharmed and stands tall.

Shiruba, his faithful shadow, had appeared without being called to protect them, even though Izuku had explicitly told it not to. Yet the sudden act of rebellion couldn’t be timed better, not that he can show that he had lost control of the situation. He quickly reinforces his grip on Shouto’s slightly trembling arm. Now is his chance to turn the tides back in their favour once again.

However he first has to ensure that a battle doesn’t break out. “Shiruba, pull back!”

Shiruba looks back at him with an impossibly human emotion gleaming through bright green eyes that he had never seen or felt so powerfully from it before. Yet despite the challenging glow there was a clear amount of faith as well, Shiruba does as told and doesn’t even glance back at their adversaries.

And as the silver shadow returns by his side, Izuku can finally see just why everything had gone so silent. The street is bisected by razor sharp spears of diamond, narrowly missing the people present. Amidst the deadly spears stand the two disappearing members of his family, Crimson and Amuralde.

“Kurogiri has been contacted,” He hears Amuralde say with a frighteningly wavering monotone, “Our mission is complete.”

Those words should have been comforting to hear, but they only fill him with dread. He cannot even see the heroes anymore, though the earth still preaches of their incidence. Not to mention that even Chizome had retreated at the arrival of his comrades. Their very presence spoke of something to be feared, it made little sense in his mind.

Izuku tugs on Shouto’s arm again, he hadn’t let go this entire time, and wordlessly gestures to Shiruba to move again behind them with his remaining free hand. He can’t tear his eyes away from the backs of his family- of strangers- the sound of something cracking vaguely in the distance echoes in his ears loudly. Even when he can feel the air subtly shift behind him he can’t look away.

Diamond spears are crumbling off whilst the new break through lifeless concrete. Izuku tugs an unresponsive Shouto behind him again- moves his grip to his friend’s wrist. Whilst his mind is trying to make sense of things he calls out to an equally silent Chizome who swivels his way when spoken to, “Whether you stay or follow is your own choice Stain.”

The words leave him without much of a thought, to his distant surprise Chizome doesn’t even attempt to argue, he can see the hero killer walk past him from the corner of his eye. “I told you I would play along this once, didn’t I?” Was the only response.

Izuku doesn’t pay his vague answer any mind, his eyes never leave the scene in front of him, like it was the last time he would ever see it or them. His feet try to move without his consent, attempting to take him to the open gateway behind him, but he almost desperately keeps the two figures in view. He wants to reach out to them, a foreign fear runs through him once again and unlike before the emotion was raw and painful.

The city around him briefly shift in and out of ruin, the smell of iron is nauseatingly present but not, he can feel ghostly hands hold him in place with a bruising grip, yet no one is holding onto him. His breath catches when Crimson turns his way, there is an infuriatingly gentle smile on his face, the look in his one visible red eye is loving even as his skin is breaking akin to old porcelain crumbling away.

“Don’t worry, everything will be alright.”

Like strings have been cut the strange dissonance suddenly disappears, just like that Izuku’s back in control of his own body again, back in the city littered with glowing crystalline and not with piles of something unmentionable. He tightens his loosened grip of Shouto’s wrist and forces himself to smile behind his mask, “I know, I will see you again soon.”

Come back home safely, don’t abandon me here.

Without any further ado he turns his back to his comrades, and finally faces Kurogiri’s gate waiting patiently for him to walk through. As he allows the black mist to carry him back home he doesn’t look back to see whether Chizome actually followed, nor does he give in to the urge to look back at the tragedy behind him once again. Shiruba faithfully protects his back like it always does, and Shouto placidly allows himself to be dragged along.

When he sets foot on familiar earth at last, the gate closes behind him after a while with a sense of finality.

For some reason Izuku feels like he just said goodbye.

The moment Izuku sets foot on the earth of his home he feels safe, the wind singing him ‘welcome back’ is a welcome change from the chaos of before. But now that he is calm once more, he’s reminded of what had just occurred by the increasing tremor through the arm still in his grasp. He doesn’t know how quickly he managed to rip the mask of his face and hug Shouto as tightly as he dares. His hold is probably near bruising, yet he cannot bring himself to care.

Izuku had hoped, somewhere in the illogical part of his mind, that Shouto would never have to see Endeavour again and would never be reminded of the world he had left behind. It’s a little late for such frivolous hopes now however, it had only been a matter of time.

It had taken what felt like an eternity for Shouto to hug him back, to his relief his friend’s arms have become much more steady. Izuku squeezes Shouto just a bit tighter before he lets go and takes a step back.

“Are you okay?” He asks as seriously as he could manage, daring Shouto to try and lie to him.

His friend stares him back in the eye for a moment, until he decides to inspect the lush grass underneath their feet instead. “I’m alright now.”

If he’s alright, than why can he not say it to his face? It’s almost endearing how bad of a liar his friend is, especially to people he’s close with. Still, that doesn’t mean that he won’t stare Shouto in the soul until he explains.

His strategy works somewhat, he sees Shouto’s shoulders twitch under the weight of his stare. “I was reminded of something, that is all.” But his friend stubbornly keeps his eyes down.

Izuku was just about to drill him further when he’s interrupted by a rather noticeable shift in the air. ‘He’s here,’ the trees chant, ‘he has arrived’.

Bullying Shouto into speaking up his mind will have to wait. He had entirely forgotten about the mission they had just completed, entirely ironic as that was, and their ‘guest’ had probably been waiting for something to happen all this time. But when Izuku looks for Chizome he finds that the hero killer hadn’t even been looking their way and when he follows the line of his gaze he can see why.

Father stands patiently not to far away from them, the mask Izuku had carelessly dropped earlier is held carefully in his hand and with Athos loyally by his side. Father ignores their guest in favour of walking up to Shouto and him with a strange smile.

“Are you hurt, Izuku?” Father asks as he caresses Izuku’s cheek and glances at Shouto, who still appears to be trying his hardest to find something to focus on. The smile on father’s face seems increasingly fabricated and strange. “I heard that your task has been especially harsh today.”

Such an uncharacteristically vague thing to say, not to forget odd. How could his father have heard about their mission when they had only just returned? Yet when he looks a bit closer he can see something deadly cold hidden in father’s usually warm eyes, something like anger, hard and tempered like steel. It didn’t match the calm expression on his face in the slightest.

When father tilts his head slightly- but refuses to let go of his face- Izuku smiles back and pats the warm hand resting on his cheek, a sign of reassurance, “Don’t worry, we’re alright. The mission is a success and we have managed to bring the hero killer Stain with us.”

To his surprise father’s fabricated smile sharpens into something akin to pride, almost spiteful green eyes turn to where Chizome is standing frozen in place. “So I have seen.”

Chizome seems to come back to life when the attention was turned to him, yet even when the seasoned villain shifts into a more comfortable stance there is something noticeably stilted about the man, something that hadn’t been there before. Chizome nods to Shouto and him, and at the sudden movement Athos rises to his feet. “Are you their leader?”

Did Chizome just hesitate before speaking?

Izuku wasn’t the only one to notice the sign of weakness, no matter how well hidden it was, and father pounces on the weakness like a hardened predator. To the eyes of those present nothing changes, except that his father lowers his hands and fully turns towards their guest, there is nought a single bit of malice visible but he can still feel it all the same. The very air trembles under father’s gaze, a warning the hero killer is entirely oblivious to. A warning Izuku cannot relay, for he wouldn’t be believed.

“Indeed, my people call me Heika.” Father bares his teeth in a facsimile smile, “I am pleased to properly make your acquaintance at once, ‘Stain’”.

Izuku tries his hardest not to show his surprise when he sees Athos creep in closer with canines bared in a silent growl. His eyes flit to Shouto, still deeply emerged in his thoughts, and to Shiruba who watches everything unfold from afar. No one present even thinks of interrupting or stopping anything drastic from happening. If anything, it almost seems like Izuku’s the only one asides from Athos who’s aware of the rising tension.

Least of everyone aware of the danger is Chizome, the man is only somewhat uncomfortable judging by his subtle shifting around and foolishly sees no reason not to meet father head on, “You’re Heika then… why send some kids to fetch me, why didn’t you drag me back here yourself?”

Father’s left hand twitches slightly and the air cools slightly, barely enough to alarm anyone unknowing, but to Izuku it’s enough of a warning. If he doesn’t do anything than no doubt the earth with be soaked in lifeblood.

He steps forward impulsively, instantly grabbing the attention of those present, and very pointedly keeps his eyes on Chizome. “We have caught word of your creed, Stain.” The words flow from his thoughts without his notice, “We would like to offer you an alliance.”

Why did he feel the need to interrupt now of all times? Why did the thought of something happening to Stain- to Chizome fill him with apprehension? What made him act so impulsively all of the sudden?

To his luck the air shifts once again, father’s hand twitches once more in the corner of his eye but relaxes soon after.

“An alliance?” Chizome asks.

Izuku dares to look back to his father, the smile he sees is relieving- however the look in his eyes isn’t. “Correct, an agreement we can both benefit from.”

“You are aware that I work alone?” Chizome appears more in his element now.

Izuku speaks up when he sees his father look towards him, “The fact you work alone is common knowledge among us, therefore I can reassure you that none of our people will get in your way.”

Before Chizome can reply father interrupts him, “Though it works the other way around as well, any reasonless attacks on my family won’t be tolerated.”

Luckily Chizome doesn’t respond negatively and instead remains quiet for a moment. “How exactly does anyone benefit from this… arrangement?”

Father on the other hand doesn’t hesitate, “Working alongside with us grants you our name and the possible assistance of my people, in exchange we too shall gain your name.”

The tone of father’s voice had turned methodical, as if he’s reciting a line practised millions of times before. Though like many things, it goes unnoticed by the other’s present. What has changed is Chizome’s attitude, the casual annoyance previously present has all but disappeared. He can see that the hero killer is cautious and is carefully weighing his options. Seeing that is a reassurance, the hero killer won’t be as likely to act foolishly if he’s alert.

“Very well, you give me no reason to refuse.” Chizome finally says.

Izuku doesn’t bother trying to suppress the grin appearing on his face, as gaining another comrade is always something joyous, even if he’s not particularly fond of the person in question. He gives the slightly stunned man a shallow bow and presses a hand to the middle of his chest, “Thank you, I’m certain you won’t regret it.”

A somewhat standard response, nevertheless it came from the bottom of his heart. Yet usually he isn’t the only one in his gratitude, however father remains suspiciously silent. He can see Athos quietly approach father, there’s not a single trace of it’s previous aggression present.

Izuku keeps the bright smile on his face nevertheless and asks Chizome if there’s anything he’d like, purposefully vague to keep the attention away from father and Athos. Luckily his strategy works, Stain gruffly requests to be taken back to Hosu as soon as possible and thoughtlessly turns his back to them. He doesn’t hesitate relaying the ‘request’ to Kurogiri, for the heroes and especially Iida are probably long gone, but he tells the man to warp the hero killer to the edge of the city just to be certain. Whether that decision was made for Chizome’s sake or for Iida’s, he isn’t certain. Yet he does know that he would like the hero killer away from his home, and most importantly, away from his father.

Once Chizome is finally gone Izuku allows himself to unwind slightly, rub his face and take a breath of clean mountain air. But the moment of tranquillity is broken by a brief sharp whine. The first thing that catches his eye when he turns around is Athos turning anxiously around father’s legs, the strange behaviour immediately tells him something is seriously wrong.

“Father?” Izuku gets no reply, but his father’s back tenses further. He takes his chances and walks up to father and Athos, and tries to calm the concerned animal down. With the slightly rough fur under his fingers to ground him he tries again, “Papa?”

To his shock he hears a cracking sound, like the sound of breaking bone. Izuku doesn’t waste another second and rushes over to face his father, only to see the colour red drip to the forest floor and smell the unmistakable copper of blood. With a distant yet scornful look on his face, father is gnawing viciously on his own index finger, the sight nearly makes his heart stop.

“Papa!” He yells out, staggeringly loud in the previous silence, and without thinking he tries to pull father’s hand away. “Stop it, please!”

Almost immediately after hearing him, father calms down and returns to himself. Arms that previously wouldn’t budge, go slack in his hands. For all it’s worth father seems confused, as if Izuku was the one acting strange. He stares his father in the eyes for a brief moment longer, sees the recognition in reflecting in peridot, and hurries to inspect the no doubt mangled hand.

Except that it is perfectly fine, aside from the traces of blood there wasn’t a sign that anything had ever been wrong. Izuku wants to be stumped by this, but all he can feel is relief. Father wasn’t hurt. Though he’s still distantly intrigued by the sight of blood drying and crumbling away right before his eyes, the skin underneath is left completely unblemished.

Father doesn’t bother trying to move his arms out of his strangling hold, but he does lean forward to grab his attention. “Izuku?”

At this point the sheer strangeness of the situation doesn’t even bother him anymore, he only feels incredibly tired. Even so he musters the energy to smile back at his father, who’s appears all too glad to return the sentiment.

As if he sensed the change in the atmosphere, Shouto calmly walks up to them with Shiruba following close behind. The subtly concerned look on his friend’s face reassures him that the one going insane wasn’t actually he himself. He felt somewhat guilty that Shouto looked about ready to keel over, yet knew he probably looked similar, if not the same. The day has been rough on everyone present it seems.

Father appears to snap out of whatever daze he had fallen into when Izuku finally lets go of his arms, however reluctantly, and he turns his inhuman gaze towards the sky. “Ah, we should head back inside soon.” Father grins at the both of them, “It’s about to rain.”

Izuku feels too tired to argue with that, even if the sky didn’t show any signs of an oncoming downpour. Surprisingly Shouto responds before he can yet again, “Sure, I’d like a nice cup of tea.”

When concerned eyes turn back to him- and he still manages to bring up the energy to feel slightly peeved at being worried about, when father had been the one mutilating his own hand- Izuku summons the brightest smile he could manage.

“Tea sounds great.”

Chapter Text

Just as his father had predicted, when they were almost home the skies had darkened significantly, the peaceful weather that morning nowhere in sight. By the time they were safely indoors the skies opened up with a magnificent downpour. The rumbling thunder in the distance was uncharacteristic for the time of the year, so uncharacteristic in fact, that he can’t help but distantly wonder where the sudden change in weather could possibly have come from.

However despite the skies crashing down on the roof above their heads and despite the lingering fear for his father’s health, home felt warm and safe like it always does, even with the stubbornly clinging chill haunting the hallways.

He’s returned to the present when Shouto returns with the promised tea and gratefully accepts the warm ceramic handed to him. Father, who had been leaning against him on the living couch, shifts away a little to do the same. Izuku has only a few seconds to mourn the loss of the inherent warmth always clinging to his father, he soon appeared to change his mind on straightening his posture in front of Shouto and relaxed back against his right shoulder.

Shouto himself made a wide berth around Athos laying by father’s feet and plopped down ungracefully on the couch opposite to them, his silly action managed to lift some of the stress off of his chest and draw out a much needed laugh.

Otherwise it remains quiet aside from the occasional shifting around and the unmistakable song of the rain, until father spontaneously asks for what had occurred during their early morning encounter with Stain. When Izuku couldn’t find the words to answer fast enough, his mind still felt muddled with too many thoughts he couldn't make sense of, Shouto took initiative to report for him.

Truly Shouto’s speaking abilities hadn’t improved a bit since several months ago, his sentences were still too monotone and he recited all of the events leading up to their unfortunate run in with Endeavour like he was reading a spectacularly bland technical report out loud. Once the subject of his biological parent arose Shouto seemed to stutter, he lost the calm composure he had created for himself, and he ultimately fell quiet. During the entire speech of perhaps half an hour, father hadn’t interrupted him even once, not with a question, not even with a comment to be more concise.

Even though Izuku wants to say a million things, he still couldn’t bring out a single word. He couldn’t even choose whether he wanted to comfort his friend, tell Shouto that things will be alright and that the memories of Endeavour won’t haunt him forever, or if he want to speak to his also much too quiet father, to tell him to take care of himself and not to worry about them.

His indecision left him with nought a word to say, the silence steadily becoming more and more deafening.

Until Athos suddenly stood up from his perch and started restlessly pacing the room, Izuku's mind started functioning again. As he didn’t want to move and disturb his father, he taps Shiruba purely out of reflex, who had made itself comfortable draped over the back of the couch, on it’s neck, “Could you open the door please?”

Shiruba accepted the request without hesitation and did as asked, but unlike what Izuku expected, Athos didn’t leave the room. Instead the dog approached the open door leading to the porch, indecisively looked back and forth between the open doorway and probably father, before making his decision and returning back to his earlier spot in front of Izuku’s and his father’s feet. Athos appeared every bit like a loyal guard dog, rather than half a wild animal his genes say he is.

Shiruba heaves a deep sigh and closes the door once more, the very picture of exasperation, before it too returns back to where it had been laying before.

The strange scene somehow dislodged whatever had been blocking his tired brain from functioning properly. Izuku looks at Shouto with somewhat fresher eyes and instantly notices how his friend seems to be attempting to become as small as possible, or perhaps to sink through the floor, his shoulders tense and eyes focused downwards at his tightly clasped hands. But more than anything, Shouto seems to be deep in thought. Which all in itself can’t be a good thing, experience tells him that his friend has the horrible tendency to think in circles.

“Shouto, are you okay?” Izuku asks tentatively.

He doesn’t want to risk anything and upset his clearly distraught friend any further. Yet his careful questioning didn’t get through to Shouto’s deep mental digging, he’s met with only silence.

Father didn’t seem to have the same problem however, “You are not thinking of doing anything foolish, are you?”

His loud but steady voice breaks Shouto’s deep focus with ease. Shouto looks somewhat stricken at the blunt question, and though Izuku had been thinking of the same thing, he wishes his father could have been a bit more gentle about getting his concerns across. But then again, father himself doesn’t seem to be in the correct mindset to even bother with such semantics. Compared to what it could have been, father is surprisingly gentle. Sort of.

Had Izuku not been desperate to not allow his friend to distance himself in negativity again, he would have tried to comfort Shouto when he wrings his hands and swallows deeply. Shouto’s face though, remains mostly impassive as he speaks.

“Seeing Endeavour again reminded me of something important…”

Father doesn’t allow Shouto to be vague, “And what was it that upset you so deeply?”

Izuku has to stop himself from elbowing his father in the ribs when Shouto flinches slightly. It could be worse, he reminds himself, it could be much worse. At least now it won’t escalate.

His friend hesitates, and Izuku cuts in before father could press him further instead, “You can tell us Shouto, perhaps we could help?” Izuku ignores the small huff ruffling his hair.

Shouto takes a deep breath once more before he straightens his back to stare back as strongly as he could manage, until his eyes meet father’s above Izuku’s head. He instantly seems to change his mind and slumps back down again. He briefly worried if Shouto was going to close back up again, but miraculously his friend’s posture doesn’t seem as defensive as before.

“My family,” Shouto blurts out, and father must have raised an eyebrow because he immediately elaborates, “My blood related family, they’re still with- I abandoned them into the hands of… I had forgotten all about them…”

As warbled as his words were, they made perfect sense to Izuku.

It had never really occurred to him before, that perhaps Shouto had left a family behind, a family that has people that had actually loved and cared for him and that, perhaps, they still do. There were people that had missed Shouto for years, only to learn that their loved one had joined the largest villain organisation that has ever existed. What must they have felt?

Right then and there, Izuku felt regret for a group of total strangers. Maybe for the first time he wonders if he had done the right thing as a child. No matter how brief the doubt is, it cuts like a hot knife.

Besides him father shuffles a little closer, as if aware of his thoughts. And as he returns the favour, it occurs to him that while he has his family surrounding him, human or not, Shouto sitting opposite to him- trying his hardest to collect his bearings- looks painfully lonely.

“I want to safe them,” Shouto suddenly continues, “I don’t know how, but I want to- I don’t want them to suffer any more, not like I did…”

Izuku feels his heart clench further, but doesn’t allow the tears burning in his eyes to show. He smiles at his friend instead, “You don’t have to deal with all of this alone, Shouto. We can think of something together, and maybe once everything is done and over with, I’d like to properly meet them.” Shouto looks up with a rarely seen open expression on his face, the show of vulnerability is almost staggering, but Izuku keeps smiling. “And maybe, once we have a proper plan, your family can stay here with us.”

His friend's expression shutters once again, this time into apprehension when he looks up towards father. The body still reclining against him doesn't even twitch however, Izuku takes it as a sign that his father isn't truly bothered by what he suggested. Though he can't help but wonder what Shouto was seeing to look so apprehensive.

“If that alright with you as well, papa?” Izuku asks hoping to ease the strange tension in the air somewhat, “I'm sure it wouldn't be a problem, our home is more the large enough to house a few more people.” And maybe, just maybe, the extra company will make their large home a little less lonely. But he couldn't quite find it in himself to say those last words out loud.

Just as he had hoped to achieve, Shouto relaxes minutely at his words and a small smile managed to break free on his friend's unusually expressive face, it seems he managed to say the right thing.

Yet father remains suspiciously quiet. In the moments after, no one dares to utter a single word, the unanswered question remains awkwardly in the middle of quiet chaos. Though Izuku barely gets the chance to truly ponder why everything seems to go wrong so often lately. Shouto visibly regathers his composure, suddenly it's clear just how young he had looked moments before, and with the calm confidence so uniquely 'Shouto' he directly addresses father.

“Mister Midoriya,” Father sits up a little straighter with keen interest at the mention of his name, leaving a cold void at Izuku's side once again, “I would like your permission to safe my blood.”

The request, for one couldn't call it a question, felt strange to Izuku, and perhaps it was because it was carefully spoken in the strange way of talking he grew up always hearing from his father. Where many words have a different and special double meanings compared to the common language spoken by all outside his family. Shouto clearly put in the effort to not only grab father's ever fleeting attention, but to leave out all misunderstandings as well.

His father however only smiles, the expression warm and gentle, yet the look in his eyes remains ice cold. Izuku can't tell where the all of the anger is directed at, he's only certain it isn't Shouto. He sends his friend a meaningful look, one that he thankfully appears to understand.

Father won't answer any time soon, nevertheless he would surely support them once the time comes. Izuku has no reason to doubt that he wouldn't.

Though he hopes his father will still remember by then.

A week has passed since Shouto's confession in regards to his blood related family and time went on as usual. As if nothing had really changed, though Izuku loves to disagree.

The weather loves to reflect the sheer conflict in his mind, while the rain had ended after a few days, the air remains cold and bitter. Summer had ended with a sudden snap and all of the usual liveliness seems to have left with it.

Izuku subtly rubs his arms hoping to chase away some of the chill. His body was still trying to catch up to the sudden change in weather, autumn's arrival had caught him and almost everyone else by surprise. He moves a little closer to his father walking besides him in the hopes of catching a little bit more of the ambient warmth he always carries with him.

With the arrival of autumn father's condition had taken a major turn for the worst. The entire time Izuku hadn't dared to leave him out of his sight for too long, fearing father would have another episode while he wasn't watching.

Not that being a near permanent fixture at his side would actually stop any incidents from happening, but somehow father appeared to be more at ease in Izuku's presence and it gave him the ability to intervene should the need arise. Something which he had been forced to do several times already in the past few days. The sudden frustration filled bouts of self-inflicting violence weren't always equally conspicuous, sometimes he wouldn't even notice until the bone-chilling sound of dripping blood alerted him.

The injuries, usually to the hands, heal almost instantly and would leave nought a trace without fail. With this in mind he can't help but wonder if father had been acting like that for a long time before he had found out, and wasn't that a frightening thought.

So he'd rather not think of what likely had been.

It doesn't matter anyway, he will stop his father from acting out from now on. It's a personal mission he refuses to fail.

Izuku glances back at the source of his concerns. His father's pace remains steady beside him. There's something about the usual calm expression on father's face that makes him feel like he's thinking about something very deeply. Which all in itself isn't anything new- while Izuku mumbles his thoughts out loud, father analyses the world around him within the quiet safety of his own mind- but the slightly pained pinch in his eyebrows certainly is. Izuku isn't sure whether he should to say something about it or if he should simply pretend he's blind to the miniscule signs like everyone else is.

In the end the decision is made by father himself. “Your dear friend has been working very hard lately, hasn't he?”

The tone in his voice is comfortingly composed, but Izuku refuses to allow himself to be fooled. Though he doesn't let the concern show, he smiles back at his father instead. “Right, Shouto's been very determined, and you know what he's like once he has a goal to work towards.”

“Indeed,” Father smiles back and stops walking, “Sometimes I wonder who he takes after.”

Izuku's smile wanes, “I wonder...” He wouldn't recognise those minute traits even if he wanted to, they might be brothers in heart and soul, but one cannot deny the powerful influences of ones blood. He wonders if it's selfish to wish to meet Shouto's family, just to learn more about his very first true friend.

They continue on their way without another word. The hallways in the west side of the estate is much livelier than the east side he calls home, most of their people prefer to work indoors now that the season has turned. Izuku can't say that he particularly minds.

Their destination soon comes into view and they stop in front of the entrance leading to the library. People pass by them with a cheery greeting as per usual and he returns the favour just the same.

He and his father had planned to meet Shouto there to discuss any future plans regarding the Todoroki family. Izuku had adamantly insisted to meet regularly, for he refuses to allow his friend the opportunity to carry the burden by himself. His father had somehow or another managed to place himself right in the middle of their meetings and made sure to have a clear spot in his busy daytime schedule reserved solely for this purpose.

Actually now that he thinks about it, Kurogiri was the one who made sure to keep the schedule flexible. Father himself couldn't be bothered by such 'semantics'. He does whatever he wants, whenever he wants to, no exceptions.

Izuku is broken from his thoughts by a light tap on the forehead, he can only blink numbly at the smiling face of his father staring back at him. “Are you still there?”

He shakes his head to clear his mind a little, the lack of sleep he's been suffering from seems to be getting to him a little. “Yeah, I'm sorry, was I keeping you waiting?”

“Hardly,” father replies calmly, “but I can't speak for a certain someone else.”

Oh right, Shouto was probably still waiting for them in the library, and here he was, right In the middle of the doorway, keeping things from moving along. Izuku fights the blush threatening to creep up his neck and awkwardly clears his throat.

“Right... let's uh, let's go then.” He walks past his father who doesn't move to stop him like he distantly expected he would, but quietly moves after him without further protest instead.

It was much more quiet inside the library compared to the hallway, which was to be expected. However the sudden change still catches him off guard a little . Sometimes he feels like the doors inside the estate act as barriers between different worlds, instead of just different rooms.

Izuku had expected to be met the sight of Shouto sitting at the long wooden table in the middle of the library, buried under tall stacks of reports regarding Tokyo, where his family still lives, and it's surrounding area. But his friend was nowhere in sight, though the expected stacks of papers were still there. He had half the mind to dig through them to see whether his unfortunate friend ended up buried underneath. His father certainly didn't seem to be deterred or concerned in the slightest by the lack of Shouto's presence at the worktable, he carelessly walks forwards to leaf through one of the folders on top of the pile.

A pair of footsteps alert him of someone's approach, one pace clearly more audible than the other. Izuku looks up to greet them without much of a thought, until he sees just who one of the people is and the words promptly die in his throat.

It was Chrono and Spatiel, the latter he had seen regularly during training sessions, though progressively less often as time moved on. But the former, he hadn't seen Chrono since that particularly exhausting afternoon by the grandfather clock. The memory is still fresh in his mind and despite looking less threatening, Chrono's dual coloured eyes haven't changed since then. They were still frighteningly similar to a corpse's, yet they still glowing with intelligence beyond comprehension. Those same piercing eyes stare back at him unwavering.

“If both of you are here to see young Shouto,” says Chrono in his familiar calculating tone of voice, “then I'm sorry to tell you that he had left in a hurry mere minutes ago.”

“That's alright,” Izuku replies more out of habit than anything else, “We'll just wait here until he comes back.”

“Are you sure? I don't think he's coming back anytime soon.” Chrono smiles strangely, “He seemed to be onto something.”

Those words felt oddly ominous despite their apparent innocence. Especially since Spatiel kept uncharacteristically quiet the entire time, she usually would have commented on something or another by now. When his surrogate aunt meets his gaze, there is something off about those normally fierce eyes. A spark of life seems to be missing.

Izuku suddenly feels cold again.

“Can I speak with you somewhere private, Hisashi?” Spatiel asks.

Her voice seems somewhat rough, like someone who had yelled for a long time. Izuku isn't sure why this worried him as much as it does. Like many feelings as of late, it doesn't seem to be his. He quickly turns to look at his father, and just as he had suspected, the pained edge on his face is more pronounced. Was this feeling coming from his father?

Izuku forces a bright smile on his face when father turned towards him in silent askance, the sharpness of his gaze softens somewhat when they meet eyes.

Father nods back at Spatiel, “very well. After you.” And gestures towards further into the library.

As soon as they were gone he feels the dreadful cold creep up to him even further. To his mild consternation Chrono doesn't seem to be bothered by the incessant chill, if bothered by anything at all. The man calmly takes seat at one of the many chairs by the table and pushes the chair to the right of him back like an offer. One that Izuku declines, despite his manners telling him how rude it is he stays on his feet. The thought that he could run out of the nearby door and escape should the need arise gave his animal brain some semblance of comfort.

Chrono once again doesn't seem to take notice, even though Izuku knows better. The man merely picks up one of the many folders within reach and begins to leaf through them much like father had earlier.

“How are your studies doing,” Chrono suddenly asks, “I haven't seen you for quite a while.”

Izuku swallows his irrational fears and cautiously approaches the chair set aside for him earlier as calmly as he could manage, “I've been doing fine, thank you.”

Chrono hums with interest, “I see, that's fortunate.” The man places the folder down to properly give him his attention, or so it seems. There is a faraway look in his eyes, one that Izuku is painfully familiar with. It felt like his surrogate uncle was staring straight through him and at someone else in his place.

Nevertheless he doesn't want to run away any longer, he can't keep running away any longer. He should face his problems head on, perhaps only then can he start to make sense of all the strange things going on in his life.

Of all the people he knows, Chrono has the most knowledge about the most far fetched of subjects and is one of the only people willing to share aforementioned knowledge. He would know about the strange second-hand emotions he's suffering under, he has to know about what happen to Crimson and Amuralde when they both hadn't returned a week ago.

A sharp pang hits him through the heart at the thought of his lost family members. An unknown part of his brain already deduced they were never coming back, but the very idea is almost too painful to consider.

Izuku shivers and rubs his arms trying to save some warmth, then he turns to Chrono with purpose in mind. However something catches his eye before he could begin to speak.

Neatly folded on top of the table, the Chrono's hands had at first glance appeared to be made of old and damaged porcelain, hair thin fractures run across mar the entire surface like an intricate spiderweb.

Izuku can feel his breath choke him with fear. The sight was too familiar, yet vague like a dream, or rather like a horrible nightmare.

How he felt cold, so very cold, when he swivels to look Chrono directly in the eye as quickly as he could manage. Unlike before the man was returning his gaze with a spark of life he hadn't possessed before. Izuku refuses to allow his surprise to stop him from getting the answers he needs.

“What's going on Chrono?” The calm smile doesn't even twitch on the man's face. “What's happening to you?!”

Desperation forces him to raise his voice, his rushing breath won't allow him any more words. Even in the face of his terrified emotions, his surrogate uncle- his teacher- doesn't even budge. But even with fear blocking his vision he can see a shadow of grief in Chrono's eyes. The foreign emotion, one he has never seen on the other before, blows the breath right out of him like a punch to the chest.

“There is no need to worry Izuku,” The sound of his name immediately catches his attention and holds it in a vice grip, “my purpose will soon be fulfilled, my mission will be complete...”

What could he mean with that? How could Chrono be saying the same thing as Crimson before he...?

“What are you-!”

“Izuku?” Father's voice suddenly sounded from the left, “Are you alright?”

His father's presence chases away the heavy cold slowly freezing him from the inside out, leaving nought a trace, like it was never there. Just as quickly he can breath again.

When he fails to answer, his mind too muddled to comprehend much of anything happening around him, father steps closer and his hands hover uselessly inches from his face. As if he were afraid he'd break apart at a mere touch.

“Izuku?” He shamelessly relishes in the warmth practically radiating from those always gentle hands, yet they do little against the panic still rushing through his veins. “Izuku, I heard you yelling, is everything alright?”

The fear creeping into his father's voice was ultimately the thing to break through the fog clouding his mind. He closes his eyes and takes a single deep breath, hoping to calm his raging heartbeat, if not only slightly, before he looks his father directly in the eye and smiles. It is a crooked smile, not by far his most honest one, but the effort is apparently appreciated. He's rewarded by a much smoother smile and a gentle ruffle to his hair.

Izuku resists the urge to swallow, knowing that those micro-gestures will be noticed without fail by the bloodhound in front of him, and breaks the eye contact with minimal effort. Drowning in those bright peridot green eyes is easy enough as it is, staring his father in the eye for half an hour straight is too awkward of a possibility to even consider. Especially since they're not alone.

“I'm just fine papa,” That doesn't mean that he's too embarrassed to address his father like he usually does, he's not one of those teenagers, definitely not, “I had a small argument with Chrono, that is all.”

A subtle light of amusement entered his father's eyes, only propriety had likely stopped him from actually laughing at something so trivial. Spatiel however, who had returned just behind father, didn't have any such qualms, she guffawed boisterously with her usual power. The strange mood she'd been in earlier must have all but disappeared during her conversation with father.

“A quarrel between you two?” Spatiel walks up to Chrono and harshly nudges him against the shoulder with her elbow, “Damn shame I wasn't here to see that!”

The sudden carefree atmosphere didn't stop his eyes from seeing the exact same porcelain like fractures running across Spatiel's skin, identical to the ones he'd seen on Chrono's hands. Many questions lay thick on his tongue, but father's presence stops him pursuing any further. If the matter disturbed him as deeply as it does, how much would it hurt his father, who's health has already been suffering harshly as of late, to notice something like that on two of the few remaining people he truly considers family?

Izuku subtly glances back at his father from the corner of his eyes, only to startle when he directly meets his powerful gaze and quickly look away. How long had he been stared at?

“We should probably be on our way,” Father spontaneously speaks up from his left, breaking the small one-sided argument between the two polar-siblings, “if we want to have any hope finding Shouto today.”

Izuku can't help but sigh in relief. Finally, there's a way out.

Spatiel instantly goes quiet again but Chrono calmly holds up his fracturing porcelain hand with a carefree smile, “please wait for a moment, I have something for you before you leave, little prince.”

The man seems to have returned to his usual cryptic ways, he left without waiting for an answer, even Spatiel seems a little mystified. The curious look he's getting from his father is practically palpable, but he only shrugs helplessly and waits for his surrogate uncle to return.

Luckily it didn't take long, only a few moments, which made the entire thing all the more suspicious. Chrono came back with a moderately sized pile of what appeared to be notebooks of some kind. The question must have been clear in his eyes, because the man smiles mysteriously back at him.

“Be sure to study these carefully when you have the time.”

Izuku is too stunned to argue, he numbly smiles back, says his thanks and leaves with his father. He can hear the sound of Spatiel yelling about something to Chrono through the door father had the foresight to close behind them.

His conversation with Chrono left him with more questions than answers, like it always seems to do.

A day passed since, time had slipped through his notice and he can only vaguely remember that his father told him to bring his highly suspicious 'homework' back to his room to look through later. Their subsequent search for Shouto had ended without success, they were soon forced back inside by the weather when it takes a turn for the worst yet again.

He had to stop his father from absent-mindedly ripping out his own nails several times that evening. It's concerning how often the frequency of those episodes have increased by the day, like he's starting to fall apart at the seams, and Izuku has nought a clue how to slow it all down.

The next morning he and his father sat down for breakfast, the air between them pleasantly quiet. The somewhat distant sound of the three musketeers frolicking around outside keeps them company.

Izuku was in the middle of grabbing another portion of fresh sashimi, when Shouto spontaneously drops in on the dining room gasping for breath with his hands braced on his knees. To his surprise, Shiruba calmly appears behind Shouto, looking no worse for wear. Though the both of them clearly looked like they had been caught in some spectacularly bad weather. Considering the currently the weather had calmed down, sunny with the occasional cloud lazily drifting by, the both of them had likely been out during the storm yesterday night and hadn't been home since.

Before either he or his father had the chance to say a word, Shouto collects himself and straightens his back to look both of them properly in the face, only to bow down the waist once more, “I'm sorry for leaving so suddenly like that, I-”

“You found a lead and followed it, correct?” Father interrupts him.

Izuku swivels his head indecisively between his father and Shouto, not really knowing where to really look. His friend stills for a moment before nodding, not even once raising his head. Yet to his relief, father remains perfectly calm, though the look in his eyes is strangely calculating.

“Yes, I'm very sorry, it won't happen again-”

“Have you gotten something out of this?” Father calmly interrupts him again, at Shouto's hesitant nod he grins sharply, “Then I see no reason for you to apologize.”

His friend finally raises his head, much to Izuku's relief, he opens his mouth several times as if he wanted to say something, but after gapping like a dying fish for several moments he shakes his head and keeps quiet. Shiruba takes this opportunity to step in further inside, apparently not interested in the entire conversation in the slightest. He wishes he could borrow some of that aloofness for once in a while, and mentally apologizes to Kurogiri at the sight of the mud the being carelessly dragged inside.

When nothing else is said, and he had waited far too long for his friend to speak his mind, Izuku glances back at his equally silent father who has already returned to breakfast like nothing had happened. Of course, what else could he expect.

Suppressing a deep sigh he turns back to Shouto, feeling all too much like a tired tennis-player, “You should come join us, Shouto, you must be very hungry.”

His friend jolts a little at being spoken to so suddenly, before nodding quietly and taking his usual seat next to him, gladly taking the food handed to him. Izuku can't say he has ever seen someone eat rice with such subdued vigour before.

To spare his friend the imminent playful teasing from his father- he'd recognise that expression from a million, having seen it himself way too many times- Izuku takes a deep swig from his lukewarm tea and clears his throat much more loudly that strictly necessary. Which had the desired affect of pulling the attention of every person not busy trying to suffocate in their own food.

“So papa, what was it exactly that Spatiel wanted to talk to you about yesterday?”

Father's amusement visibly falters, however slightly, likely for being denied his fun. Though the sheer boredom radiating from the small gesture of resting his chin on a single hand, and the minute slump of his shoulders, isn't enough to make him feel guilty, the slightly distant glaze over his eyes definitely does.

His father doesn't sigh, but he might as well have. “Spatiel had warned me about the lack of teachers available for the new recruits,” he begins pragmatically, “there are too few of our people left with the time to 'show them the ropes' of guarding Yomi.”

“Not enough people available?” Izuku blurts out without thinking, “but what about...?”

'But what about Crimson, or Amuralde, didn't they usually guide them around Yomi?' He wanted to say, but he managed to remind himself just on time that they were gone. He jumps a little when he meets his father's increasingly inquisitive gaze, the curiosity sharpens his eyes into something much clearer. Yet for once, Izuku wishes he could have stayed bored. Now he has no escape, no way will his half-formed sentence be forgotten by a blood-hound on a mission. He will have to finish what he so carelessly started.

His frenzied eyes stop on Shouto, who had miraculously not died yet and had quit inhaling food to stare at him also, and the perfect plan hatches in his mind.

“But what about Shouto and I?” Izuku turns his eyes back to his father, hoping to show not a hint of doubt as he continues, “we know the entirety of Yomi like no other, if anyone could show recruits around, it would be us.”

When father doesn't respond immediately Izuku swivels back to Shouto, and despite his newly ignited excitement, he hopes he doesn't give himself a whiplash by the end of the day.

“I'm sure Shouto doesn't mind,” his friend however, doesn't respond either, though that won't be able to save him, “Right?”

Shouto- thank the gods- catches on to his sharp tone, jolts awake and nods frantically, “yes, of course, definitely.”

Father blinks leisurely, deep in thought, but clicks his tongue after a while of equally deep consideration. “I suppose if there isn't really another choice...”

“There isn't.” Izuku adds resolutely.

“Very well,” father smiles suspiciously after brooding for a few seconds, like he was plotting something, “Give me a day to properly plan your 'excursions', I'll inform both of you as soon as I'm done.”

For all his father's tone had been pragmatic, the rest of his screamed something devious. It was equally strange that father agreed so easily, when he had always stopped them, or at least Izuku, from travelling with complete strangers, insisting that the only thing they should worry about was being children. Even stranger was that he hadn't even tried to convince them to let him tag along, despite having refused to leave his side the entire week, if not longer. Izuku will have to think of something to keep his father occupied enough not to do something horrible while they're away.

Yet he won't allow the steadily growing apprehension to stop him from carefully looking forward to meeting their newest comrades and the journey through Yomi.

That same afternoon Izuku is left alone with Shiruba's quiet company to peacefully wander though the vast gardens outside. Shouto apparently felt guilty enough to keep an eye out for father in his stead. He hadn't hesitated a moment when he was given the chance to spend some time alone to think, without needing to worry about the health of his father.

However his plans for analysing the many strange events that kept him awake at night were quickly thrown out of the window once he began his stroll in the warm sunlight and gentle breeze, it almost felt like the weather itself is trying to convince him to take the chance to relax and empty his mind instead. The weather, of course, succeeded without much effort.

His walk soon took him to the edge of the dense forest guarding his home, where he sees just about the last person he expected to see. He sees Tomura reclined underneath the thinning canopy of some elderly trees, seemingly mulling over a thin stack of papers with a deep frown on his face. He considers leaving the other to his thoughts, but an imploring look from Shiruba easily convinces him to give in to curiosity and speak to the person that had, admittedly, faded from his notice.

Much to his relief Tomura looks a lot better than he did when Izuku had first met him that fateful day in a dingy alleyway. In matter of fact, he looks like a whole new person, a good bath and some proper rest had apparently done him miracles. He keeps his footsteps as audible as he can manage, without actively stomping on the ground like an angry child, as he approaches the focused other in the hopes that he wouldn't scare him. Unfortunately his efforts at pulling the other's attention weren't effective in the slightest, he doesn't even twitch at the deafening sound of breaking twigs. Which leaves him with only one thing to do.

“Good afternoon, Tomura.” Izuku calls out when he's only a few steps removed from Tomura, he has to repress a wince at the resulting startled flinch. “I hadn't expected to see you here.”

Tomura's wide eyes stare back at him for a little while, before he quietly nods back and lowers his head to hide behind his hair. The other looked like he'd be glad to sink into the earth and disappear. The change in personality is a little shocking, but not unexpected. A concussion can make a person behave more strangely than they would had they been drunk off of their feet. It wouldn't be surprising if Tomura didn't remember a thing from the past few weeks.

Despite the entire situation being more than a little awkward, Izuku smiles at the other, he's glad to be given the chance to meet the 'real' Tomura.

“How are you doing?” He asks in the hopes of breaking the ice.

Despite his best intentions, he met with another flinch. Tomura glances at him uneasily, the corners of his lips twitches indecisively, and the hand not clutching the thin stack of papers rises to pluck uselessly on the bandages covering his neck. Izuku can almost hear the other think from where he's standing and he almost feels like he can begin to understand what his father must be going through whenever he 'hears' the stress of one of the few people he cares about. But unlike his father, he doesn't press the other for answers in his concerns. His patience gets rewarded.

“I'm better,” Tomura's voice cracks halfway and he clears his throat with a painful sound, “thanks.”

Though the answer had been uneasily concise, Izuku can feel his own smile turn more genuine, “That's wonderful.”

Luckily Tomura relaxes a little, Izuku takes it as permission to briefly sit down next to him. The other doesn't twitch or jump at every movement any more, but he does eye Shiruba suspiciously behind the safety of his long-ish hair. However even this discomfort dissipated after a few moments have passed.

It is clear to Izuku by now, that Tomura is in reality a rather careful, unsociable and introvert type of person, and that he most definitely wasn't going to start a conversation or maybe even say a thing at all. Luckily for Tomura, he doesn't have to. Years spend in the company of his extended family, built out of the strangest of strangers, had turned him into quite the social butterfly.

Instead of asking about the papers the other had been reading before, he already knew exactly what those papers were about, he asks, “Do you already have plans for the future?”

Tomura looks briefly stunned, but quickly recovers and gives a crooked smile, “Yeah, I do.”

“Good,” Izuku grins brightly at him and gets up once again, “everyone needs a purpose.”

He mentions to Shiruba to follow, “have a nice day, Tomura.”

Tomura doesn't give an answer, but he does raise a hand to wave back awkwardly. Izuku gladly takes what he's given and he leaves to continue his mindless walk into the forest.

The weather is truly too comforting to fear a thing.

Chapter Text

Much to Izuku's surprise, his father actually delivered the promised plans on time- a day later, just as promised- and he could begin his preparations just as quickly.

But somehow father's amenability made him even more suspicious, he's very aware of how much of a thoroughly cunning person his father usually is, it's impossible not to consider that he isn't planning something behind everyone's backs. Or perhaps Izuku was starting to get a little paranoid. Shouto wasn't bothered by the strangely compliant behaviour at all. Perhaps he should just be grateful that everything was going along so smoothly for a change.

Though Izuku wasn't the only one carefully grateful for father's willingness to cooperate, because the plans weren't delayed for once Kurogiri had been able to bring in the new recruits right on time yesterday. Which in turn gave the aforementioned recruits the time to prepare themselves and whatever possessions they had the opportunity to bring along as well, all according the very detailed and very well thought-out plan by his father.

In fact, it was so pragmatically intricate and thorough that it was incredibly impressive that father had managed to finish it all in apparently only one day. It couldn't be that father had finished those plans early and spend the rest of the day lazily smoothing out the rough edges, right?

Izuku tenses his jaw, so tightly that his teeth grind together painfully. A furtive glance at the source of his suspicions tells him that he had managed to keep his thoughts silent for once. His father would without a doubt have teasing words at ready had he known what he was thinking.

At the moment father calmly sips at his freshly brewed boiling hot tea, and had been staring at the same page of the book he's supposed to be reading for roughly ten minutes. It dawns to Izuku, maybe a little late, that father forgot about his lacking eyesight again.

“Papa, will you be alright?” Izuku asks him carefully.

His father blinks up at him, like he had asked something strange, as if he hadn't been blindly staring at letters too small for him to read. Yet despite the subtle confusion, father smiles, an expression equally warm as it is devious. “Of course, do not worry about me.”

'Don't you see, that's exactly the reason I worry about you.' Izuku would like to say, but he's well aware that those words would only be met with even more confusion, so all he does is nod in mockery of acceptance. His father just doesn't know how to allow others to care for him, it seems.

What makes the entire situation a little easier to accept, is that father hasn't had a single visible bout of self-destruction in the last three days, or at least nothing extreme. Which gives Izuku enough peace of mind to justify leaving for a week. Not to forget that he had talked to Kurogiri last evening and asked the man to keep an extra close eye on his father.

Everything is fine, there is for once nothing to worry about. So why is he still worried?

He glances up and jumps in his skin when he immediately looks his father straight in the eye, his subsequent stammering earns him another playful smile. Diverting his eyes he catches on to the nearby clock.

“I should probably go, or I'll be late.” Izuku tells his father as he raises from his seat, though catching the look on his father's face made him add, “And I don't believe in being fashionably late.”

Father chuckles quietly and takes another calm sip from his tea, “Have fun.”

Izuku stops in the doorway and turns to stare at his father, who stared right back without care. 'Have fun'? Not 'be careful' or 'come home as soon as you can' or any variation of the aforementioned, but 'have fun'?

Feeling entirely stumped, he slowly turns back forward, a smile of his own appears on his face unbidden. Perhaps his father is actually getting better, perhaps his father is starting to see him as more than a child.

Perhaps he's too hopeful, but that doesn't mean that he'll look a gift horse in the mouth.

“I will.” Izuku replies and then leaves, unbothered by the watchful eyes following him the entire way.

Outside the protecting walls of his home, the fresh mountainous autumn wind is merciless, cutting straight through flesh and bone.

Izuku takes a deep breath and tugs his warm middle coat a little tighter in the hopes of quelling his shivers. In the corner of his eye he sees Shiruba following him looking like the very picture of calm dignity, and he allows himself a moment to feel jealousy at his guardian's aloofness.

While the new season is still young, the temperature in Yomi had been in steep decline ever since his return from the vicinities of Tokyo. According to word from those who frequent the rest of Japan, this strange climate was mostly isolated to Yomi and it's surrounding area. To make matters even more creepy are the rumours spreading among the henchmen, that the borderline supernatural climate was caused by father's quiet rage. Izuku never paid too much attention to those rumours, but for some reason he's starting to fear that they might just carry a core of truth.

Another gust of wind, much like a tired sigh, shakes him from his thoughts sooner than Shiruba, who has it's clawed hand reaching out in an aborted motion, has the chance to. His legs had conveniently taken him nearby the designated meeting place on automatic pilot while he'd been sunken deep into speculation. Izuku sends Shiruba an apologetic smile and straightens his coat yet again. He had promised himself to focus on the present and enjoy the week to come, yet here he was stressing over things beyond his control again.

After lightly smacking his already cold finger on his cheeks, just to ground himself a little more, he approaches the clearing, where he can already hear some random chatter, though it's mostly limited to two separate voices.

In a spontaneous decision Izuku quickly signals Shiruba to stay out of sight and summons Conceal over himself before stepping into he clearing.

Five people were waiting for him, just like he had read beforehand, scattered away from one another. Though two, a girl roughly his age and a man wearing a mask, fashioned like an comic-book character covering his entire head, were enthusiastically chattering away in one corner. Another masked man wearing an English top-hat sat not too far away from them reading a book, the title obscured by a paper cover. Much further to the right is a scarred young adult likely trying and failing to warm himself with his own fire. Seeing the tattered short-sleeved coat he's wearing Izuku isn't surprised and immediately makes a mental note to prioritize getting him and his companions proper winter clothing. Last but not least sits the only person he recognizes by face, Tomura, furthest away from everyone else. His presence didn't come as much of a surprise, he had suspected as much, even before he saw his name in the plans, when he had seen him reading a small stack of papers a few days ago, Izuku is glad to see him actively search for a purpose in life.

From what he managed to observe only half the group was actually familiar with each other, the other half seem to be trying their hardest to stay secluded. All in all, the group feels dysfunctional. Izuku has his work cut out for him, yet somehow, instead of filling him with dread, the prospect of a challenge feels exciting.

With his first impressions of everyone made at his own leisure, he takes a deep fortifying breath, straightens his back and drops Conceal. He wasn't noticed right away, it was only once he left the cover of the forest and calls out in greeting that all eyes turned towards him.

“Good morning, I hope your stay so far has been kind.” Izuku says in his most 'professional' voice and, purely out of habit, wordlessly gestures them closer.

Much to his relief he is understood, the five new recruits comply without much of a fuss and gather around him. But before Izuku can continue and introduce himself, he's interrupted by a loud gasp of surprised horror, “Whoa, what's that thing!” and immediately afterwards, “That's so cute!”

The two entirely contrary exclamations were, oddly enough, made by the same person, the comic-book man had a finger pointing somewhere behind Izuku, which prompted him to look himself. But the only thing behind him, besides the forest, is Shiruba, whose hulking figure isn't necessarily 'cute', though much cuter than some of the more unfortunate Nomu that wander through Yomi.

Much to his quiet shock he hears a muffled grunt of pain from back in the group behind his back, but his shock turns to amusement when he hears Tomura harshly whisper to the comic-book man doubled over on the ground, “don't be rude idiot.”

Izuku can't quite bring himself to wipe the smile off his face, so he doesn't bother even trying. With a bright smile he begins, “that's alright, it does make quite the first impression.”

He doesn't wait for anyone to reply and gestures to the most common subject of everyone's horror who's, as always, watching over his back, “this is Shiruba, my self-proclaimed bodyguard, it never attacks, it only retaliates.” He then turns his hand to the centre of his chest, continuing without taking his eyes of the five new recruits, “my name is Midoriya Izuku, to the people of Yomi I am known as Denka, I will be the one guiding every single one of you for this week, and hopefully beyond.”

His introduction is, as expected, met with brief disbelief. Yet what's most surprising, is that none of them voice their astonishment out loud.

His smile to them warms, “I may have read about you, but I think an introduction should be shared on both sides,” and he looks straight at the only person in the group he's already somewhat familiar with, conveniently standing at the leftmost spot, “please tell us only what you think we need to know.”

Tomura hesitates, perhaps because his prompt was too vague, but he only shrinks away from everyone's eyes for a moment, before he straightens his back with strong glare of deviance he doesn't seem to be honestly feeling. “Shigaraki Tomura.” He then looks away and says nothing else.

Izuku nods in approval, that's good enough, he pointedly looks towards the comic-book man who had already recovered from Tomura's sharp elbow to the gut, the man visibly startles when he notices it's his turn. “Er uh,” he clears his throat and boisterously points a thumb at his chest, “the name's Twice,” his entire demeanour then shifts to something entirely different, and he yells, “that's none of your business!” Then he shifts again, “I didn't mean that, it's nice to meet you.”

His behaviour is oddly erratic, but Izuku recognizes it from the brief report he had read on 'Twice', who he knows goes by alias, just like many others. He takes it all in stride and moves on to the incredibly excited looking girl standing right next to Twice, paying no attention to the obvious sigh of relief from the man.

She lets out a mildly concerning squeal once she notices he's looking towards her, “you're just as nice as they say you are, Denka!” She leans back on her heels and smiles all teeth, “I'm Toga Himiko, but you call me Himiko, it's super nice to finally meet you, I hope we can be friends!”

Her energy remind him of someone else he had once been introduced before, one of Mirio's friends if he remembers right. He briefly hopes the hero in training is still doing alright, yet he refuses to think about him for too long, especially now. Izuku quickly recollects his bearings and grins back to Himiko before nodding towards the masked man with the English top hat, who tips his hat forward in an European gesture of greeting.

“I have no qualms sharing my true name with one so esteemed, I'm Sako Atsuhiro,” he spreads out his arms like a true showman, “I go by the alias of 'Mr. Compress', you may have heard of me already, it is a real pleasure to meet you.”

What an amusing man, Izuku can't help his elation at the act- though he doesn't want to show the fact- he knows his father will like him at least. In an attempt to maintain his professionalism, he shows Atsuhiro the same courtesy he showed the ones before him and moves on to the last person as quickly as he can without being too obvious.

Which turns out to be potentially the most anti-social of the group- an impressive feat considering there's Tomura- but still, Izuku hopes his first impression of the scarred man furthest to the right is just overly cautious.

He was half right to assume the worst, the scarred man casually raises an equally scarred hand with an equally casual smirk on his face, all in all he looked very casually bored already. “Yo, I'm Dabi, it means 'cremate', by the way, though you probably know that already.”

Despite the introduction being by far the most grating to those who could be bothered to care, he gives the same courtesy of 'mundane polite acknowledgement', as named by his father, to Dabi like he has to everyone else. And apparently that's a good move, as Dabi's smirk changes from something vaguely challenging to something somewhat friendly. Minor victories.

With the knowledge of even more names to remember still fresh in mind, Izuku hopes to quickly move along to their next destination before Tomura commits premature heresy by murdering a comrade. But Dabi however, had other plans and apparently hadn't finished talking yet.

“Hey, your old man kind of threatened to cremate me with my own Quirk if I set anything on fire,” Dabi uncomfortably scratches the back of his neck, ignoring the following exclaims of exasperation and anger with unsurprising ease, “he was kidding, right?”

Figures that father couldn't help but take sadistic amusement in threatening new henchmen, he does that every time, his favourite target being exactly Dabi's type of personality; casually bored. 'The high and mighty don't survive long in front of those even mightier', his father often loves to say. Yet, there's a thin line between a genuine warning and an empty threat.

Izuku takes pity to the increasingly worried looking Dabi and sends him a bright sunny smile, “I wouldn't assume anything, if I were you.”

His attempt at being reassuring, however, is a resounding failure. Dabi's face pales significantly in what's likely fear for his life. Izuku decides to act like it was exactly what he meant to achieve, ignoring the jeers from a few of the other's present- 'serves you right,' Twice had called, followed by Himiko's 'we'll be there on your funeral!'- and he claps his hands once, just a bit louder than necessary, to regain their attention.

“If we're all done introducing ourselves, then we should move on...” Izuku glances over the now quiet group, “unless there are any questions?”

He waits a moment and when no answer comes he grins mischievously, “wonderful, our first destination is the stables nearby, please follow me.”

His statement is met with almost exactly the response he had anticipated, utter disbelief and a single cheer of excitement. He weathers all the commotion with patience born of experience, but quietly, deep within himself, he understands why father loves bullying the new henchmen so much. Their reactions are, without fail, an absolute riot.

Izuku and his group of shell-shocked recruits were calmly making their way towards the stables, when Dabi finally utters the question likely burning on everyone's minds.

“So, why exactly are we heading towards a barn?”

Izuku grins freely, knowing that none can see his face, “we're heading towards the stables Dabi,” he waves towards a passing veterinarian in training, “the horses there will be our main mode of transport for the upcoming week, and if all goes well, you'll be depending on them for most of your upcoming career working here.”

His explanation doesn't seem to be understood in the slightest, but he can at the very least appreciate the effort Dabi makes to seem like everything makes perfect sense to him. Less can be said for the others' still whirring minds. Though their response was something he had anticipated the moment he read their background files, for those who come from the city- especially the area of Tokyo- the change from modern luxury to old-fashioned adaptation is staggering to say the least. Even those who have painstakingly crawled out of the slums have at some point been spoiled by technology, and while Yomi wasn't exactly a copy of the old bygone days and while they too have access to at least the most rudimentary forms of modern luxury, winning and storing electricity is still a mighty struggle. Not to forget the sheer amount of commodities necessary for the same lifestyle. All struggles not a single human being would even begin to consider worrying about unless they are forced to. Thus Yomi is forced to take a thousand steps back for the sake of survival, while the rest of Japan, if not most of the world, drags forward whilst spoiled by blissful ignorance.

He isn't jealous of them, absolutely not.

“Say Denka, are you okay?” Izuku whirls around to see Himiko staring at him in mild concern an arm's reach away from his face, comically enough it appeared that Mr. Compress and Twice had tried to stop her from approaching him. “You sounded like you were trying to summon the devil or something.”

“Is that so...I'm sorry, I was thinking about something.” How embarrassing to be caught mumbling again, he turns away in the hopes of saving face when his eyes catch unto his salvation, “Ah, we're here.”

“That huge building is your barn,” a stable Dabi, it's a stable, “seriously?”

Izuku turns back and forth between his group and the stables, the building doesn't seem so large to him, but he can imagine that the traditional Japanese architecture and the fact that half the building was build over a slope is pretty impressive, if not a little intimidating. “Yes, I am very certain.”

Mr. Compress chuckles lightly under his breath, a sure sign that the normally prideful man is also quite intimidated, “it is apparent that your family doesn't do anything halfway, Denka.”

The statement rings true to the point where Izuku doesn't even bother to try and contradict the man. Though he does, for some reason, feel his face burn with embarrassment. “Well, let's not linger too long and head inside.”

He doesn't wait for them to comply and hurries on through the open stable doors as fast as he can without being too obvious. Luckily for him, the others don't seem too bothered by his sudden hurriedness, otherwise he would have felt a little guilty. He does, however, have the decency to wait until they are finished gaping at the interior before speaking.

“Before we continue, I hope you understand how important the animals are out here, without them you will have a hard time even living,” Izuku makes sure to look at each and every one of them hoping to get his intent across, “they depend as much on you as you depend on them, so I ask of you to take everything I'll teach you to heart.”

Much to his surprise, his words were met with vigour and enthusiasm, mostly. He can't help but smile at their energy.

“I gotta ask though, why the horses? Can't just drive down the mountain or something like that?” Twice asks, and Izuku forces himself to ignore the 'it's not like I wanna know, who cares about that?!' that follows afterwards.

If he has to be honest with himself, he definitely should have seen the question coming, yet somehow he is still caught off guard by how different his world is from the others', things that are obvious and normal from him are a novelty for everyone else. He's not sure how to feel about that.

“I expected somehow to ask that earlier, actually.” Izuku begins, not showing his minor existential-crisis, totally ignoring Dabi's mumbled 'then why not explain earlier...' and the pained grunt that followed soon after. “The answer to that question is very simple, the roads in Yomi are negligible, the land here is taken over by nature, most vehicles are not nearly flexible enough to be of any use, likewise public transport has been completely cut off and have fallen into ruin, not many other options remain.”

“Can't the roads be maintained?” Mr. Compress asks, a sensible question, one Izuku has heard and considered many times.

“I'm afraid that isn't possible, that would take a lot of time and hard work by many people, which are numbers we unfortunately don't have.” Not to mention that the effort would largely go to waste one natural disaster later, “it's a much larger undertaking then you would expect.”

“I see.” Mr. Compress doesn't sound all that convinced, but that would probably come later. One has to see to believe.

Izuku turns to the others, he notes that Tomura in particular looks oddly pensive, “In any case, you don't have to worry about any lack in experience, don't forget that I'm here to teach you all you need to know.”

With that hurdle behind him, he heads further inside and he's followed without much of a fuss. He isn't too worried of what's to come, the animals are more that capable of handling people who aren't used to handling them. He briefly chats with miss Ushitane, whom he shortly introduces as one of the hard-working stable-hands, and walks straight to one of his dearest friends, who greets him with enthusiasm unfitting of an animal his size.

“This is Bijozakura, my trusty steed in times of need.” Izuku can't help but laugh when the stallion cheerfully nuzzles his hand, “he's one of the more friendlier ones around, I thought you would all appreciate meeting him first.”

Toga is the first to break the ice and happily skips over to stand next to him, “he's super handsome! I wonder what his blood smells like...” She turns to him with a sharp, toothy smile, “can I take a little bite?”

“I'd rather have that you don't,” Izuku smiles back unbothered, “I won't stop Bijozakura from kicking you if it's self-defence.”

Toga pouts a little, but backs off at the unspoken warning.

“You probably should have seen that coming, you damned vampire.” Dabi rasps behind him, oddly enough his voice sound a little pained.

“In any case,” Izuku starts in hopes to avoid conflict, “it's in your best interest to greet them first, no matter how well trained these animals are, they hit hard when surprised.” When he sees that he has regained their full attention, fear is always a good motivator, he continues, “it is quite simple, actually, all you have to do is approach them where they can see you- never from behind, you'll be asking to get kicked-” he pauses and reaches out a hand to Bijozakura, the massive animal doesn't hesitate a second and presses his forehead to his hand, “and reach out to them like so, you should let them approach you, instead of the other way around, especially in the beginning.”

Mr. Compress tips his top hat forward, in what Izuku starts to suspect being a nervous habit, and chuckles amiably, “That sounds quite simple indeed.”

“Simple until you get kicked,” Twice adds, the following 'sounds super easy' went ignored.

Izuku smiles back at them, stepping away from the stallion he was showering with all the love he deserves, “that is why you practise,” he looks back at the awkward looking group behind him, “now, who wants to go first?”

Introductions proceeded without any notable incidents, no bones were broken and all limbs still attached, his group of recruits have finally started to cope with the knowledge of their new lifestyle. Mostly.

Showing them around in the stables went quite easily also, though managing a group of five with such strong personalities felt like a struggle. Especially when most didn't even get along very well. Especially Tomura is surprisingly difficult to involve. Izuku forces himself to stay calm and swallows a sigh. He wants to show calm confidence, nothing else.

After instructing them to take their time meeting the other horses, fighting a blush when Mr. Compress complimented him on the name signs he had written with his father- in calligraphy, with traditional ink on cherrywood- and reminding himself once again to act like a leader, Izuku watches closely while everyone else tries their hardest not to get kicked by a horse on the first day of the job.

Yet, despite his concerns, they follow his instructions very well. And much to his surprise, the first to properly bond with one of the animals is Tomura. He found a similar kindred spirit within Asagao, a slightly withdrawn yet calm stallion who had been the runt of the group when he was younger. Poor Tomura looked entirely flabbergasted when to animal approached him right on his first nonchalant try. Izuku gives him a proud thumbs-up when he looks his way helplessly. Yet, after seeing how utterly floored Tomura still looks, he decides to do the kind thing and direct his attention elsewhere to give the other some more time.

Luckily for Tomura and everyone else, the others soon follow. Himiko made quick friends with the brave and snappy Higanbana, the merry shares a name with her favourite flower, apparently. Fortunately Himiko had taken his earlier warning to heart and didn't attempted to bite the poor animal, though in this particular scenario Izuku wouldn't know who to pity more if she hadn't, Higanbana has skin as tough as a rhino.

Joining Himiko in fast friend-making ended up being Dabi, who had tried to bully the sleepy Shion into responding to him and somehow ended up being bullied into seizing his attempt. The two virtually became soulmates afterwards. As glad as he is to see even Dabi make friends, when he had been the most sceptic in the beginning, Izuku isn't looking forward to the mischief those two could come up with.

Twice had, for some reason, been terrified of even trying to approach one of the animals. Fortunately that was easily remedied by showing him an elderly steed by the name of Hinageshi, who Izuku is reluctant to admit having spend quite a lot of time with, in the hopes of alleviating the guilt he still carries with him towards the elderly man the horse shares a name with. The gentle nature of the animal, further softened by age, helped Twice conquer his fear. With this victory to give him confidence, Twice had, in a strange twist of fate, been drawn to Tsutsuji, who is as wild and unpredictable as they come. The two get along swimmingly, like two peas in one pot.

Izuku sighs deeply and shakes himself from his musings, it's great that four out of five have managed to find a horse they feel at least a little comfortable with so quickly, but Mr. Compress was perhaps taking a little too long. Whilst the others busy themselves with figuring out how halters work- with varying degrees of success, if some of the cussing is to be believed- the oldest of the group is merely walking through the room seemingly admiring all the name plates. It's when the man passes him by for the third time that Izuku decides he's had enough. He ties the last of Bijozakura's braids and hurries to catch up with the man.

“Are you having any issues, Mr. Compress?” He asks.

The man jumps a little and stops walking, to properly look his way presumably, it's hard to tell with the patterned mask in the way. “Ah, yes...” He tips forward his top hat, “I'm having a hard time coming to terms with everything... there are quite a lot to choose from.”

Izuku keeps his face calm, though he's having a hard time not pointing out the poor attempt at changing the subject and the fact that the animals currently indoors is only a part of the number they usually carry.

“In that case, allow me to suggest someone then.” He doesn't wait for the man to agree before moving with purpose in each step, all the way to the back of the one of the stalls in the back of the building. “A elegant mare for a true showman, I think Sumire is your cup of tea.”

Sumire is as much of a drama-queen as a horse could possibly be, it fits someone with a flare for extravagance, as Mr. Compress likes to carry with him wherever he goes. He pats the man on the shoulder, “sometimes you must take a risk to succeed.”

Mr. Compress takes his words to heart, as embarrassing as they were when he looks back at them. Thus Sumire ends up the first and last horse the man greets. With him out of the way, they can all move on to finally gearing up for their travel down Yoshino.

Izuku pats himself on the back for a job well done.

After a minor struggle, and Himiko wanting to greet everything alive on their way out, they all stand back outdoors in a messy half-circle. Explaining how everything has to be straightened and fastened was a major struggle, though Izuku hopes it wasn't too obvious.

Their journey will take roughly about a week, and they will need both enough supplies to last without needing to stop, hypothetically, and have enough space left for the new supplies purchased in Nara. The latter wasn't an issue, they didn't really have much to begin with, having arrived at Yomi with only the meagre items they had and the clothes on their backs. The former, however, made Izuku glad he packed a little extra.

In the end, the people had to be herded outside more than their four-legged companions. He waits for the commotion to quiet down a little before beginning the speech he had planned while waiting for them to finish preparing, “our first destination is going to be the town Hirao, nearby lake Tsuburo, we are going to set camp and spend the first night near the shore of the lake.” Both Himiko and Twice react as cheerful as a pair of little children, but that is the only positive response he got, “I hope to arrive at Hirao before dark, are there any questions?”

He added the last part more out of formality then anything else, but Dabi yet again didn't get the memo. He stops rubbing his arms to point the impatient looking Shion to the right of him, “so, how exactly do you get on this thing?”

Izuku right at that moment, feels thorn between slapping himself, for not having considered the obvious lack in experience yet again, or Dabi, for being the one to ask the obvious question. In the end he does neither.

“I was planning to show you just now,” which is a total lie, “if you'd all stand on the side of your dominant hand...”

It respectable really, how teachers can do this all of the day, as a job. He by now realises just how tiring it is to explain new things to people who don't have the same knowledge he has. It's a miracle by far how none of his group of new recruits have mentioned his clear as day lack of experience teaching. Surely his father is having a much better time back home than him, but it's a little too late regretting anything.

Yet, when mightier-than-thou Dabi launches himself right over Shion's back, and his blunder is copied by Twice, who somehow makes everything better by doing a magnificent somersault before he hits the ground, Izuku can believe that the upcoming week might just actually be a lot of fun.

And surely, Shouto must have had a much harder time than him, so he can't complain, right?

Chapter Text

The first few metres they rode had been incredibly exciting, much more so than back when Izuku had learned how to ride himself. There was just something about teaching a group of people roughly his own age, that made every new small thing exhilarating, their enthusiasm was just too contagious not to get dragged along.

It was most fortunate that no one had cracked their head open when they had fallen off the first few steps taken, though it did take Shiruba's faster-than-lightning responses to prevent any real injuries to occur. The forest floor may look soft, but it doesn't break any falls. Izuku still has the long, thin scars on his right hand as a reminder.

All too soon they quieted down again, the excitement that came with novelty quickly turns into silent admiration of the vast lush forest they are steadily making their way through. The hush fallen upon them only broken by the occasional call in amazement from either Himiko or Twice whenever they see an animal pass them by. Whether it be a squirrel or a simple sparrow, every animal seems to be a subject of marvel to them. Their awe at the simplest of things is both baffling and enlightening, Izuku has always had the animals as company, he can't imagine life without them. Yet, in the always busy urban jungle, they must truly be a rare sight.

“I must say,” Mr Compress says, effectively pulling his attention back to the present, “when I had first heard of Yomi, I hadn't expected this place to be filled with such astonishing beauty.”

The statement fills him with pride somehow, so much that Izuku can't help the big smile worming it's way onto his face. But the recruits turned students weren't done surprising him yet. He can hear Himiko excitedly lean forward behind him and the following yelp when the movement causes Higanbana to pick up the pace, “Whoa- I know right! I've never seen so many birds in my life!”

“I swear I saw rabbits just now, they're adorable- They will give me nightmares!” Twice adds with such enthusiasm, that Izuku isn't quite sure whether the contradiction had been intentional or not. The puzzlement was enough to quell the urge to explain the difference between bunnies and rabbits.

“You know, I'm not hearing anything back there, you guys stunned into silence or something?” He hears Himiko say, her statement presumably directed towards Dabi and Tomura, who ended up joining Shiruba in the back of their group.

“Yeah yeah, it's pretty nice, I guess.” Dabi returns with his usual brand of nonchalance.

“'pretty nice', huh, you're hard to please-”

Izuku by this point decides to tune out their arguing.

When he takes a customary look around to see how far they've gotten, his eyes catch onto his salvation. Without further ado he turns around to face them and cuts in on Dabi's sorry attempt at defending himself. “-Do these clothes look like they belong to a 'rich-city-boy'...?!”

“I've seen stranger things in fashion.” Izuku interjects, much to his amazement this one comment was enough to silence the commotion. He acts like it was exactly what he'd planned and smiles back at them, “I'm glad to have your attention.”

“What is it, Denka?” Tomura asks brusquely, yet still oddly polite, when no one else asked a thing.

Izuku keeps his smile and points to his left, “If you'd look to your east, you'll see a building between the trees.” He wait a moment for them to look themselves, “That building is a shrine, but here it also functions as a shelter. There are many of those scattered all over Yomi, the doors are always open, should the weather ever take you by surprise.”

Dabi whistles, “this place really is like a video-game.”

Like a what? Mr. Compress must have seen his confusion for he carefully elaborates, “like a fantasy novel?”

“Ah- right,” Izuku nods to himself, ignoring Dabi's incredulous comment of 'wait, you don't know what video-games are?', he clears his throat, “anyway, you should know that they are also supplied with emergency first aid supplies and a simple map, should you ever need them.”

“Neat-!” Twice cheered and barely stopped himself from plummeting to the ground. Between her laughter Himiko readily agreed, “very neat.”

Izuku gladly laughs along with them, all the while reminding himself to catch up some more on the world outside. If his lack of knowledge on this 'video-game', whatever that may be, was enough to give Dabi a minor existential crisis, then it has to be something important.

After frolicking along for a bit, he takes notice of the cooling air and takes a quick peek at the time. “As fun as this is, we should pick up the pace if we want to arrive at Hirao before sunset.”

Mr. Compress clears his throat in obvious discomfort, “and how do you suggest we 'pick up the pace', Denka?”

An unnecessary question, truly. They had all been instructed on everything before they left. But there is a difference between knowing and actually doing something. Luckily he knows just the thing for that.

“That's simple, you see,” Izuku smiles at them mischievously and turns back to face forward, “you hold on tight, pull back the rains like so and...”

Without mercy, Bijozakura accelerates into a full sprint and leaves the recruits to literally bite the dust. The other horses, who have been trained to follow the example of the leader, copy the action with vigour. If he hadn't been so busy enjoying the wind in his face, he would have turned to see the looks on their faces. Sadly he has to do with their yelling and cheering.

Often the best way to teach, is to kick the bird out of it's nest and force it to fly. Izuku just loves his father's wisdom sometimes.

Surely enough, they arrive in Hirao within a few hours. It would have been much faster, had they not been forced to slow down halfway there to spare them from flying over a few fallen logs at full speed. The recruits weren't too amused with the impromptu race, but Izuku is sure they had fun once they got used to it.

Not that Izuku doesn't sympathise with them, he grants them all the time they need to fight lingering vertigo and properly catch their breath. It helps that Dabi is still deadly pale, leaning on the entirely too smug looking Shion like his life depends on it, and that they were all glad to have both feet on the ground again. Yes, it is all too fortunate that they have the remainder of the day to rest.

“Who is that?” He hears Himiko say from his right, prompting him to look who she was pointing at.

From further within the town a somewhat familiar young man approaches them. In his arms he carries a sizeable woven basket filled to the brim with what looked like apples. It doesn't take too long for him to remember who he is, Izuku happily smiles his way and calls out once he's within hearing distance. “Nyx, I see you have been hard at work today!”

A small smile appears on Nyx's scarred face, his eyes shimmer much brighter that they had when Izuku had first met him years ago. “I have, harvest has been plentiful this year.”

“Harvest?” Mr. Compress walks forward a bit, Sumire ever gracefully by his side, “is this a farmers village?”

“Correct, most of the food in Yomi is grown here actually,” Izuku explains, “people like Nyx here have been working especially hard to prepare for winter.” He then turns to the aforementioned patiently waiting for him to finish talking, “was there something you needed?”

“No- well, yes actually-” Nyx raises the basket their way, “I had heard that you would be stopping by today, I thought you may like a small snack for your travels.”

Izuku gladly accepts the offered gift, “that's very thoughtful, thank you.” Then promptly deposits it's contents into one of Bijozakura's saddle bags and returns the basket back into Nyx's waiting hands. The young man takes a shallow bow and leaves to return to work.

It's not that unusual for his family to gift him something or another whenever he visits, nonetheless he cherishes every little gift all the same. Which is exactly the reason that when he turns back around to the suspiciously quiet recruits, bright grin stuck on his face, he didn't expect to see them look so positively floored.

“Is there something wrong?” Izuku asks carefully.

“Does that happen a lot?” Himiko asks back, “because, that's really cute.”

He nods, no less weary, though he doesn't understand what could possibly be cute about receiving gifts. “Yes, especially when harvest has been plentiful as it currently is,” When he hears Dabi of all people hum thoughtfully he quickly adds, “and Nyx and I are well acquainted, I am sure he just wanted to show that he cares.”

Dabi snorts, “that's totally just like a video-game.”

There it is again. He doesn't even know why he felt the need to defend himself like that earlier, yet there's just something towards this group of people that makes him feel like a teenager more than he ever has before. Izuku can feel his happy grin grow sharper, “I see you must be feeling a lot better, Dabi.”

He's impossibly satisfied to see the meagre amount of colour that had returned to Dabi's face melt away. Himiko bursts into laughter at the sight, quickly taking the rest of the group with her. Whatever tension that had been haunting them right since the start seems to lighten up, much to his relief.

Yet, while he watches Twice boisterously pat Dabi on the back, sees Tomura dodge Himiko trying to do the same- 'you kinda look pale too'- or Mr. Compress fruitless attempts not to get dragged along, he realises that the one most distant from everyone else, is he himself. None of them, nor anyone else in his family or beyond, is ever that carefree and wild like that around him. Surrounded by people as he is, he feels oddly lonely once again.

Izuku grabs Bijozakura's reins tightly enough to turn his knuckles white. What is he doing? Allowing his thoughts to turn so dark when there's absolutely no reason for it. He never wanted to be treated so casually or roughly before, so why start now? Why does he feel such jealousy watching them just be themselves?

A sudden warm breath startles him out of his increasingly dour thoughts. The gleam of silver in the corner of his vision tells him enough, “Shiruba?” He whispers to it, “what's wrong?”

Shiruba stares back at him with accusatory eyes, but unexpectedly it turns it's nose towards the heavens. Curious he follows it's line of sight and is met with nothing but a normal early afternoon sky. The many colours are beautiful, sure, but why is Shiruba so insistent to show him-?

“Oh, the time!” Izuku grins and then, more quietly, thanks Shiruba for guiding him once more. His sudden exclamation had caught the attention of the recruits, that much is clear from the sudden hush that had befallen the group again, and this time he doesn't feel as bad about it.

His mood may have taken a sudden dark turn, but it served as a reminder that his role around them is not to be an equal, nor to be just a friend, he's meant to be their guide and their leader. With that role comes distance and respect, this he witnessed his entire life. It's something he should just accept.

He should treat Shiruba to another trip to the beach for bringing him back to reality. With this promise in mind he turns back to the group waiting for him to continue, a few more nervously than the others, and he gives them the most open and honest expression he knows they deserve.

“Before dusk we must gather our supplies and build a camp near lake Tsuburo's shore,” Izuku briefly pauses, “once we're there, I'd like for Tomura and Himiko to look for rocks and firewood, meanwhile the rest of us shall set up camp. Am I understood?”

It seemed to take a good while for his words to properly set in, something they will have to work on, before Himiko is the first to raise a hand, dragging the arm of a grumbling Tomura with it.

“We do!” Himiko looks serious, it's an odd expression on her usually grinning face, she ignores Tomura's complaints like he's just the wind, “what's firewood?”

Because they are city people, right, of course they wouldn't know. He should be more specific next time, “That's wood you can burn, I recommend dry wood of a size not bigger than your own arms.”

Himiko grins, “roger!” She still didn't let go of Tomura's arm, despite his half-hearted struggle.

Right after comes Twice, mimicking Himiko by raising his hand as high as he could manage, “What about the horses?” 'who cares about the beasts?!' “Won't they get eaten by bears or something?” Tsutsuji apparently takes offence to the statement and neighs loudly, scaring the living daylights out of poor Twice. Much to the amusement of Dabi, if his laughter is to be believed.

Hearing one of them, which is more than he ever expected so early on, ask on behalf of the horses is something beautiful. The feeling is amplified when Mr. Compress inquires similarly.

“You don't have to worry about them, the horses will be fine staying with us.” When they don't look entirely convinced he adds, “consider it practise if you will, the camp we're going to set up isn't going to be any different should you be alone. The horses can't always be left in a stable, they know since early on how to take of themselves. In matter of fact, they will be your best warning if danger approaches.”

He asks once more if anything else was unclear to them, but other then a few exclamations on bears and the like, everyone seems about ready to move along. Which is only fortunate, with dusk approaching steadily, they will need to hurry if they want to stick to plan. With nothing else to say Izuku nods to them and moves forward, Bijozakura faithfully by his side and Shiruba watching their backs with old eyes once more.

A few minor hiccups aside, the rest of his plan proceeded without any mishaps. After picking up some fish at the local fishery and borrowing some other important supplies, they found a nice opening in the forest to safely set up their first camp.

Tomura and Himiko left into forest to gather the requested supplies, whilst he muscles his way through instructing the remaining three on how to build a sturdy shelter.

Twice was surprisingly useful with the construction of tents, something the man had apparently learned on the street during the time he had been homeless. The man's talent set them forward on schedule enough for Izuku to feel confident sending someone to fetch some water, that 'someone' ended up being Dabi, of course.

It was a simple task, he just had to fill roughly half the pan he have him with water from the lake, which was easily within hearing distance, and return to help with the finally bit of work. The lake was so close, that it is absolutely impossible to get lost and probably just as impossible to get into any trouble without warning any of them at camp about it.

So why hasn't the man returned yet?

Izuku wasn't that concerned himself, Tomura and Himiko have yet to return after all, but Twice was starting to loudly theorise that 'the scarred man' may have drowned, followed by Mr. Compress who jokingly proposed he could have been eaten by a bear, scaring poor Twice even further. Both theories were unlikely, there was no sound of water and the horses were as calm as they could be, but after five minutes of speculation to what may or may not have happened was enough incentive to go out and look for Dabi himself.

It didn't take long at all to find him, he was exactly there where he had to be to fill the pan with water. Yet, for some unfathomable reason, he failed to return back to camp. Dabi had simply sat himself on one of lake's rocks, unmoving, facing the wide open lake and is staring off into the twilit sky. It would have been poetic, had it not been for the faint chatter in the background or his mild annoyance.

Izuku hesitates just enough to decide to sit down next to him before actually saying anything, “How's the view?” Seeing the other jump in surprise was worth it.

“Err, it's-” Dabi at the very least has the decency to look sheepish, “it's very nice.”

From his current point of view, Izuku finds himself treated to a familiar sight. Sharp blue eyes flitting around looking for an escape, yet never loosing their inherent aloofness, all the way to shape of his face. How very curious.

“You remind me of someone,” Izuku tells him, “he is dear friend of mine, his name is Shouto, you have the same eyes.”

Dabi flinches slightly, whether it as at the comment about his eyes or at the mention of Shouto, it's something that makes him look infinitely more suspicious.

“Is that so...what a coincidence.” Dabi says while hiding his discomfort by stretching lazily. He then decides to do what he was actually meant to do in the first place, thorough to the point that he washes the pan before filling his with water, like one should, and then turns to attempt escape. But Izuku isn't about to let him off so easily.

“So it is, if I didn't know any better, the two of you could've been brothers.”

At that he hears Dabi stop walking at the forest's edge. “That's impossible, I don't have any siblings.”

Funny, how he denies not having siblings, instead of only denying that he has a brother. Nonetheless, Dabi seems rather desperate to get his point across, his voice sounded even more shaky than it had back when Izuku asked him about father's threats of cremation. Izuku gets up and follows after him, and as curious as he is, “we should return back to the campsite, Twice is worried about you.” Everyone has the right to keep their own secrets, he would be the world's greatest hypocrite if he pushes any further.

Dabi stares at him in a strange way for a moment, before grinning lazily, “yeah, I heard him.”

“I know you have,” Izuku grins back and slaps him on the back, perhaps harder than strictly necessary, “now move faster, you fool.”

“Yes sir.”

By the time he and Dabi arrive back at camp, Himiko and Tomura have returned with the requested materials. The camp as well has been fully set, looking much more sturdy than Izuku's own first attempt had been. Twice really had a hidden talent for building things, it's a shame he didn't decide to become a carpenter, though there is still time for that.

Actually creating a firepit isn't very complicated, Izuku did that by himself, explaining the progress step by step as he did. His audience actually had enough respect of nature within them to listen carefully. Except for one person in particular.

“You want me to light that?” Dabi asks. The fool apparently got over his fear of death by cremation with his own quirk, his hand already holding an admittedly impressive blue flame. Aforementioned blue flame dances precariously in the evening wind, and the fool doesn't even seem to realise it.

Luckily for Dabi, Izuku has no reason not to remind him, “If you don't want to die a horrible death, then I kindly suggest that you do not.” Which was exactly what he did. The flame in Dabi's hand fizzles out pathetically, taking his lazy smirk along with it.

Despite his annoyance at the other's nonchalance, Izuku finds an unexpected smile crawl upon his face. He's not blind enough not to see that the way everyone interacts has already changed massively compared to that very same early afternoon. To the outsider perhaps, the way Tomura delivers a mean left hook or the teasing crowing of Himiko and Twice or the way Mr Compress half-heartedly tries to diffuse the situation, is something intended to harm, yet to him it's nothing but harmless rough-housing. The group simply feels natural.

Besides, it's not like Dabi actually intended to set the forest on fire, he knows the difference between action and intention. Which is why he doesn't mind being to play along, if not for just a while.

“Dabi,” Izuku address' him, causing Twice to loosen the playful choke-hold he had on the other, much to Dabi's visibly exaggerated relief, “if you don't mind, you may light the fire- if you're careful that is, a flame the size of your pinky finger should be fine.”

Dabi just lights up at the request, even though he outward appearance barely changes. With a toothy grin he lifts his pointer finger, lighted blue with a small spark, barely a spark compared to the one from earlier, “roger,” and sets the firepit aflame.

Curiously enough the colour of the bonfire quickly fades from blindingly bright blue to a warm and gentle orange. Izuku was about to ask the other, but stops himself when he sees a similar confused expression on Dabi's face.

“Huh, didn't know it could to that.”

“Seriously...?” Tomura grouses incredulously.

Dabi only shrugs in response, “New stuff happens all the time, I guess.”

“Well then, let's settle down and eat,” Izuku settles into a comfortable seiza a safe arm's length away from the fire, “I don't know about all of you, but I am starving.”

Safe to say that everyone else felt the same. With little further ado food is spread out and a cozy circle is made around the flame. The horses had scattered across the camp and Shiruba had settled into one of the trees above them.

Their dinner under the dark night sky consists of the rice balls and mushrooms Izuku has brought along, the fish from the local fishery and half the apples gifted to them by Nyx. The food was nothing luxurious, nor was it plenty, but it still feels like a feast.

The fish and a few mushrooms were speared onto a stick and set close to the fire, there is a comfortable silence while they waited, until Himiko speaks up from his left, “don't people usually tell stories around a campfire?”

“Himiko, that's a wonderful idea,” Izuku claps his hands together with a bright grin, breaking Tomura's, seated to his right, focused stare at the slowly roasting fish, “but instead of stories, I'd like to know your quirks.”

“Ah yes, if we're expected to work together, it's only natural that we should all know each other's capabilities, what a brilliant suggestion!” Mr Compress praises, for once Izuku could actually see the smile on the man's face, blocked as it is by the campfire in between them.

“I'm glad you agree.” Izuku all too gladly returns his enthusiasm, “I'll go first this time, if you don't mind. My quirk is very similar to my father's, it is likewise named 'All for One', it's most basic ability is to give and take the quirks of others, but it also protects me from the backlash of having multiple quirks. At this point in time I possess four quirks, 'Botanokinesis', 'Photosynthesis', 'Whisper' and 'Conceal'. Botanokinesis allows me to summon and control plants at will, Photosynthesis is actually a minor regeneration quirk but it is empowered by direct exposure to sunlight- hence the name, Whisper allows me to listen to the voices of the wind and enhances hearing to a degree depending on the weather and Conceal grants me the ability to hide myself and a handful of others from perception with the exception of physical contact.” Izuku coughs lightly into his hand, “I could talk on for an eternity if you give me the chance, but the food will be badly burned by then.”

This spurred all those present to fly into action to grab their food before it went to waste. Once everyone settles down again, Mr Compress laughs lightly, effectively drawing their attention.

“I don't possess nearly as much passion for my quirk, I'm afraid it's quite simple,” the man flicks the writs holding a piece of roasted mushroom with flair, turning it into a small light blue marble, “as you can see, my quirk is called 'Compress', a genius name, don't you think?” his showman call-out was met with only silence and a faint murmur of, 'you named yourself after your quirk, seriously?', but Izuku couldn't quite tell who it was. Ever true to himself Mr Compress doesn't look phased by the lack of response, “With it I can compress objects and people alike within a certain amount space into a small sphere, and with a snap of my fingers,” he demonstrates and reveals the mushroom in the palm of his hand with a flourish, “everything I compressed turns back to normal.”

“That's-”

“-really useful Mr. Compress!” Izuku cuts off Twice, “it's suits you very well.”

“Uh yeah, that's what I wanted to say.” Twice's following exclaim, 'that's a lie and you know it!', was ignored with fitting professionalism, “totally.”

Mr. Compress appears to try and remain calm about it, but there's a certain redness on his cheeks that hadn't been there earlier, “I'm flattered you think so, but many would beg to disagree.”

“Really? How so?” Himiko asks, taking a breather from scarfing down her slightly burned fish.

“It's been called a thief's quirk for as long as I can remember, my quirk is perfectly suited for robbery after all, it was assumed to be my destiny.” A shadow of regret briefly passes over Mr. Compress' dark eyes, in that moment the man seems to age a decade, “and I had proven them right.”

In a surprising show of solidarity, Twice pats Mr. Compress' shoulder and remains oddly silent. Izuku wonders if the two had found something in common. He has heard similar stories all the time amongst his family, but he still cannot imagine what it could possibly be like. He had always been accepted for the way he is since the day he was born.

“People are mean like that all the time, just because they ended up being right, doesn't mean what they said is right.” Himiko reassures, then turns back to him with a toothy grin, “can I go next?”

Izuku nods without uncertainty, he wasn't sure when their round of introductions turned into a improvised therapy session, but he won't try to stop it. “Of course, go ahead.”

“Alright-y! My quirk is called 'Transform' and I can shape-shift into another person by drinking some of their blood, I love my quirk and I love the taste blood, but people totally get scared whenever I do the things I love, I could never be myself.” Himiko pouts and then goes back to her usual peppy self, “hey Izu-kun, my quirk isn't scary right?”

“'Izu-kun'...?” He hears Tomura grumpily mumble from his right, “It kinda sounds creepy though.” Followed by Dabi from his right.

Izuku gladly ignored both of them in favour of smiling to the girl to his left, “no, not at all,” and as an after thought he adds, “in fact, it could be worse. My father possesses a quirk called 'Hydrokinesis', of which I had once heard he had used to boil someone's blood until their head exploded.”

He hears Dabi make a rather concerning choking noise, 'don't say that so casually-', but his attention was quickly pulled away by Himiko, who grins brighter than the campfire and pulls him into a tight hug, “really? You're so nice Izu-kun!”

It is rather clear to him that Himiko isn't as unbothered by the opinions of other people as she tries to appear. It's something he'll have to pay closer attention to later.

More importantly, he has to convince Himiko to let go again, it ended up taking a minor struggle and the promise of demonstrating how to roast apple. He wasn't exactly bothered by the impromptu hug himself, he is used to it by now due to his father's rather tactile way of showing love, however Tomura was starting to burn holes into Himiko and the men on the other side of the campfire were starting to become a bit too rowdy again.

One of the latter, however, gives him the perfect opportunity to keep the conversation going, “if you have recovered, again, would you mind going next, Dabi?” The intended victim just made it too easy, he really reminds him of Shouto too much.

His hands are itching like madness, he just wants to know more, yet doesn't know if he should. If it were about their quirks or their pasts, Izuku isn't sure yet.

Dabi stares blankly for a moment, until the question properly dawns on him, “uh- right, sure...” He then grows quiet again, looking increasingly awkward as time passed by. After the brief quiet he scratches his neck- forcing Izuku to stop himself from reprimanding the other on it- and begins talking, sounding as awkward as he looks, “my quirk doesn't really have a name, it's just a lot of really hot fire, it's pretty strong but hard to control, these scars aren't for fashion you know.”

For a quirk that somehow doesn't even have a name, Dabi seems to hide a lot of in depth knowledge about it. He didn't even mention a nickname for it, all he gave was vague. All of it makes alarm bells ring in his mind, and had he been with anyone else, he perhaps would have said something about it. However, in present company, combined with how the group is starting to grow together little by little, Izuku doesn't want to be the one to cause a rift to form. For now he'll have to play along with the fool's act the other tries to put on, even if he doesn't like it.

Sadly, Tomura didn't think the same way. “Is that it?”

Dabi stares at Tomura with wide eyes, completely frozen in place, “huh?”

Tomura's glare grows sharper, “I said- 'is that it?' Is that really all you know?”

Naturally this causes Dabi to go into defence, “what about you then?” The lazy smirk never leaves his face, and Izuku knows that this will only anger Tomura further, the same way he knows that Dabi is well aware of it, “you criticize me, but you haven't even said anything yourself, actually, you've barely talked at all this entire time.”

Tomura takes his left hand out of the pocket of his hoody with a sharp glare, the action sets off many alarm-bells within his head.

“Dabi, Tomura, both of you, calm down.” Izuku intercepts, both look his way startled, “This isn't an interrogation, nobody has to do anything they don't want to.”

He can see two things happen simultaneously, Tomura looks staggeringly guilty and defeated, turning his gaze to the ground, and Dabi's trademark lazy smirk makes way for open astonishment. Their reaction to his words were rather shocking, not that he can allow such a thing to show, as their leader he has to do better. Instead he makes sure to smile as honestly as he could manage at that moment.

“Everyone has a story or a secret they guard jealously, there is no problem with that.”

Izuku then turns to Tomura again, who has yet to raise his head, with a grin he knows the other can't see, “That said, I am very curious about the nature of your quirk Tomura, if you so wish, I'll be all ears.”

Finally Tomura raises his head, looking his way with amazement and admiration clear as day on his face, only to look back down again, “it's really bad...”

“No matter what it may be, I'm certain I have seen worse,” Izuku tries to reassure him and after a brief moment of consideration he adds, “I have stolen plenty of quirks, on accident, as a child.”

He has no idea what had compelled him to air his sins all of the sudden, but whatever it may be seems to inspire Himiko as well, “I drink blood!” Though the happy-go-lucky grin lessens the little amount of comfort a person may gain from such a statement.

“I have robbed plenty of banks when I was younger,” Mr Compress continues after her, “with my quirk it was quite a breeze-”

“- I burn myself all the time,” Dabi cuts him off, surprisingly, “and everything else.”

Right after, Twice jumps up from his seat and then loudly, “I have killed myself a lot! I'm totally fine!”

Which causes everyone, including Tomura, to look his way. “Please do tell me more about that,” Izuku tells Twice kindly, mentioning for everyone to calm back down, “after Tomura, of course.”

Twice tugs briefly at his mask, but nods subdued after settling down again. Knowing that Himiko will comfort the man if he needs it, Izuku turns back to Tomura, who looks like he believes he's dreaming. “I meant what I had said, everyone has a story, whether you speak about it or not is entirely up to you.”

Tomura swiftly glances over the group, before he slowly turns back his way, the very picture of amazement. Izuku can understand that, it's not everyday that people suddenly shout out their personal crimes to comfort you, especially after trying to pick a fight mere moments ago. Yet, the thoughtful look on Tomura's face gives him a bit of hope amid the confusion.

“... It's 'Decay', everything I touch with all five fingers will crumble, and rot away.” Tomura's voice contrasted in it's confidence with the rest of his body, he appears moments away from turning his own quirk against himself to disappear into the wind.

“I see,” Izuku steels himself, hushing the usual excitement that comes naturally whenever he hears about a new quirk, “that must have brought you great misfortune, but I hope that you will learn how useful it can be as well.”

Ah, Izuku knows that look, the look of great admiration he had seen roughly a week ago, the same day Tomura had told him 'you're my hero'. It made him feel both wonderful and uncomfortable.

To distract himself he hurriedly says, “I could help you with that, actually, I analyse quirks as a hobby,” he looks up at the others, “perhaps we could even train together, I could gather all the information I need much easier that way, and-” oh no, he's rambling again, they're not going to think of him as some kind of overexcited child, are they? “...I certainly hope I'm not getting ahead of myself.”

The entire group spontaneously appear to fall over themselves trying to convey their enthusiasm for the idea, from Tomura's fervent shaking of his head, to Mr Compress's semi-polite praise, mentally kicking himself is all he could do to maintain a collected visage.

Yet, there's one thing that he absolutely mustn't forget before they all turn in for the night. Twice's exclamation moments earlier is something he refuses to see as some type of joke. So he exercises patience and waits for when everyone, including himself, to finishes dinner. He hates to be the one to dig up old conversations when they all but ended themselves, but he has done so before and he shall do so again.

“Say Twice,” Izuku turns towards the aforementioned, who turns towards him with an audible grin, “are you still willing to talk?”

It takes a brief moment for the other to comprehend his words, much like Dabi had before, but it is clearly visible once it does. Twice's slump dramatically, like someone cut the strings holding them up.

“Ah, right, that...” How strangely concerning it is, when no contradiction follows the man's words. “I don't really have to tell you everything, right? I really want to get it off of my chest!”

He stands corrected, Izuku swallows a sigh of relief and nods, “of course, if you absolutely won't wish to, then I will accept it without argument, though I do recommend you speak to someone sooner rather than later.”

Twice shakes his head, “Nah, it's fine, I don't trust any of you! I'll talk, it's a stupid story anyway, it's basically national history!”

His words were so erratic that he doesn't know what to do with them. In the end he says nothing, not wishing to cause a misunderstanding, and the feeling gives him a sense of deja-vu. Fortunately, Himiko speaks the man's language like it's her own, the girl pats the other on the back in moral support, and Twice begins to speak. Thank goodness.

“I call my quirk 'Double', I can create exact copies of someone or something with it, it's super useful, or so I thought.” He scratches the back of his head, “I wanted to live an easy life, so I created a bunch of copies of myself to do all the work for me.” Izuku winces internally, he knows where this is going. Twice continues, “It totally backfired, you know. One by one I turned against myself and I just don't wanna die, so I fought back, I gave up and let myself be killed, but I don't even know who 'I' even am any more...”

Little by little his movements grow more erratic, like he was in pain all over again.

A helpless feeling floods Izuku. There was very little he could do, mere words of someone practically a stranger won't heal badly scarred wounds so old. Twice was someone lost to their own quirk, a curse all too common. It hurts to witness, no matter how many times he already has.

Luckily Himiko knows Twice somewhat longer then everyone else present does, and brings the man back to the present with an embrace and private whispers of comfort. The display had obviously shaken everyone present. Something poor Twice notices quickly.

“I lost it again, Dammit.” 'It's funny, right?' “Sorry about that, I told you it was a stupid story.”

“It is hardly stupid,” Izuku is quick to say, his statement is supported by the almost everyone else, with exception to Tomura, who had gone quiet again. Dabi reminding everyone present of Mr Compress's confession to robbing a bank, of all things. “In fact, I commend your bravery for telling everyone present, even if the decision was a spontaneous one.”

“You mean that?”

“Of course, I consider everyone here family, that includes every version of 'you', Twice.”

What Izuku doesn't expect after saying that, is his second tight hug that late evening, and the wailing that leaves his right ear ringing. The gibberish sounded a bit like, 'you're the kindest Denka, the absolute worst!', though he could be wrong. He pats the man's back somewhat awkwardly, with his breath nearly cut off it was rather difficult to get a word in. fortunately for him, rescue came in the form of all the others present, who all but drag Twice away from him. He would have deigned to feel guilty, had he not been so grateful to have some air back in his lungs.

Once they all recovered, Izuku clears his throat lightly, tapping his chest all the while, “Why don't all of you get ready for the night, I will clean up the fire this time,” at the stares that gains him he adds, “do not concern yourselves over it, I'll manage fine on my own, and I will instruct you on how to do this yourselves next morning.”

“Aren't you tired yourself, Denka?” Mr Compress asks.

“I am quite alright, thank you for the concern,” Izuku can't stop the laugh escaping him, “if anything I am more concerned for the rest of you, all of you look quite dead on your feet.”

“Well, can you blame us?” Dabi says.

“No, not at all, which is exactly why I insist, I expect most of you to have trouble falling asleep as is, and you will need all the rest you can get.”

A minor struggle later, everyone retreats into their tents, leaving Izuku alone with the forest and the campfire. He may have been lying somewhat when he said he wasn't tired, but he won't regret his decision to send them away. A proper leader takes care of what is theirs, and Izuku wants, more than anything, to be a proper leader.

With practised movement he throws sand over the fire, followed by the pan of water they ended up not using, enveloping the camp in darkness, his only source of light the bright moon above. Yet, his eyes adapt quickly, he doesn't miss the movement of Shiruba coming down from it's resting spot in the trees. When it approaches him, he gives it a smile and a pat on it's forehead.

In the darkness of the night, Shiruba always reminds him of a ghost, with the gleam of it's armour and the glow of it's cold green eyes.

“Good night.” Izuku whispers to it, before he too returns to his tent.

Sleep comes quickly to his tired mind and body.

Izuku hears the sound of barking in the distance.

His friend, he's warning of an approaching stranger, but those are no barks of anger, no yelling of strange sounds he cannot identify. He doesn't want to suffer another beating, but he is hungry, so very hungry. The few fruits and nuts he can gather aren't enough any more for his growing body. He hasn't stopped trembling since the last moon, his legs can hardly carry him, his body hurts. He's hungry.

Will he stop moving soon, like the friend from the field across his shelter?

Will his insides finally grow silent?

Who will protect his warm furry friends then?

The barking nears him and his shelter, the warm furry friend he sits besides whines once but leaves his side. He's cold and alone now.

A sound catches his attention, he strains his neck to look towards the warm light of the leaving sun. Someone sits in front of him, his face reminds him of what he sees when he looks into the stream nearby. The other boy, he knows is his only friend of own kind, makes sounds he knows to be the same as his friends' barking, but much softer. He doesn't fully understand what he is trying to say. But the other friend's body says compassion, fear me not, but also guilt.

He never fears his friends, but this friend lives with the larger ones who don't want him near. He could be lying, others his kind have earlier that same sun. Offered him precious food and then thrown rocks when he came closer to accept. Such disrespect for his home, he fled insulted.

He bares his teeth to the other, but the other doesn't leave or yelp, his lips curve up instead, but without malice. The other sings some more, until he reaches out with something strange in his hand. Something Thin and brown, like wood but not.

The strange thing smells sweet, so very sweet, the sweetest thing he ever smelled for as long as he could think, sweeter that the fruit he loves to eat every time the warmth visits along the winds.

Without thinking he reaches out, he wants it badly, but he hesitates half way there. What if it's a trap?

He doesn't hesitate for long, he doesn't care to any longer. He is just so very hungry.

How great it tastes! The thing is as sweet as it smelled. It has a strange texture, unlike fruit or nuts or meat, it melts in his mouth and makes his throat tingle. How wonderful it tastes.

The other friend barks happily, still showing his teeth like the others his kind often do when they play.

He presses the precious food to his chest when hears yelling from the larger others. His friend stands up again, he's afraid for something, and quirks his lips up his way once again, without showing teeth this time, then he leaves.

He ends up eating the really sweet thing all by himself. He feels somewhat guilty when the warm and fluffy friend returns, walking strangely with only three of her legs, but in the end he knows, he knows that he needs food to keep moving, he cannot always share.

The other friend had given him food and kindness, when none of his kind did.

If by the next sun his shivers have stopped, he'll go out into the forest to collect herbs again, he should return the favour. Yes, the next sun, he has to keep moving until then.

Everything will be alright when the sun rises again...

Izuku wakes up startled and immediately folds in on himself, clutching his stomach in agony, it felt like he hadn't eaten for days.

Was it all just a dream?

Before he can ponder about it, a soft, warm body lays against his stomach, relieving most of the horribly pain. It's comforting to the point that all of his confusion melts away, until all that remains is his exhaustion.

The last thing he feels is a comforting presence and a large warm hand carding through his hair, before he falls into a dreamless slumber once more.

Chapter Text

A faint feeling of hunger and nostalgia hits Izuku the moment he awakes, soon after followed by a cold void at his left side and the sound of chatter outside his tent. The latter is enough to wake him and send him straight into action. He practically jumps up, and is promptly forced to sit back down by a wave of drowsy vertigo. He must have slept deeper than he first thought, despite not feeling that well rested at all.

Looking around reveals nothing out of place, and now that he is awake enough to think about it, the chatter was too subdued to be anything serious. Izuku sighs, so much for a peaceful awakening. Perhaps a couple of the new recruits had gotten into a minor argument. Yesterday had been quite emotionally laden, for some of them to have fried nerves is nothing too surprising.

He rubs the last bit of sleep out of his eyes and stretches a bit, before getting up to gather his supplies and prepare for the day, slowly this time. Yet, one last thing stops him in his tracks before he leaves his tent. His left side had been warm, like something had been sleeping right besides him, but he had been all alone, hadn't he? It couldn't have been Shiruba, the warm spot was way too small for the large bulk of heavy armour, never mind the fact that Shiruba's body isn't warm in the slightest. With that in mind he could dismiss the possibility that it had been a human being at all. Nor could it have been any of the dogs, the spot rather seems more the size of a fox. However, what bothers him more than his supposed company, is that he hadn't woken up. He usually isn't a deep sleeper at all. There is even a vague sense of a strange dream if he thinks about it hard enough, but he cannot for the life of himself remember what the dream must have been about, nor can he remember much else that had happened after he had gone to bed.

Well, whatever it was, it's gone now. There is no use in pondering what has been. He gives his rolled up futon, resting next to the exit with his other things, a final longing glance. Whether he wants to or not, it's time for him to brave the cold morning bite and face the chaos of today. He'll just have to find out who or what kept him warm company later, if he'll remember to.

Instead of the morning wind, Izuku is met with Bijozakura's warm breath the moment he exits his personal tent. The large beast neighs cheerfully, does a little bow, a trick his father thought was funny to teach the animal, and stares at him expectantly. Whatever concerns he had evaporate like snow under the sun.

“Good morning to you too, Bijozakura.” Izuku greets back.

The animal looks delighted, and Izuku can't resist giving his friend a few- or rather, a lot- of scratches on the cheeks. After that frankly therapeutic cuddle with a horse easily twice his height, he resumes his previous plan, and makes his way to the source of all the chatter with his unexpected companion in tow.

It doesn't take long to find the new recruits, they stand in a circle around their old campfire stuck in a heated discussion. Or rather, they- with the exception of Tomura who had artfully distanced himself from the chaos, smart man- appear to be ganging up on Dabi, who in turn appears to be defending himself against their onslaught.

“-I'm telling you, I wasn't seeing ghosts.” Is the first thing Izuku properly hears when he's near enough. “That thing was very real.”

“What was 'very real'?” Izuku interrupts before they could continue.

The entire group jumps with drama he should have seen coming, but unlike the defensive posture he had been boasting earlier, Dabi slouches his shoulders and scratches his nose awkwardly. “Denka... when did you get here?”

Izuku puts his cold hands in the pockets of his coat, and it took real effort not to slouch or hunch as well, “only moments ago,” he glances over everyone present before looking Dabi straight in the eye, “good morning, but all greetings aside, I'd like to know more about this ghost you saw.”

Izuku curbs the smug feeling welling up in him when Dabi straightens his back under his gaze, “er well,” the man clears his throat, “I didn't see it all that well actually...” This earned him some undignified squawks from the rest of the group, and Dabi raises his hands in defence, “I mean, I did see it.”

“Sure you did.” Tomura says from the back.

Himiko giggled, “In your dreams.”

“Could you describe it?” Izuku brings in before the chaos could erupt again.

Dabi thinks about it for a while, but fortunately it doesn't take long for him to remember, “I couldn't see it all too well, all I could see was a large hunched shadow, it looked kind of human, but I'm pretty sure that wasn't a person.”

“And you are certain that it wasn't Shiruba that you saw?”

“Very sure, actually looked nothing like it.”

Despite how vague the description was, Izuku has a good idea of what it was that scared Dabi the way it did. The poor man shrinks under the doubting glared of the crowd, but Izuku smiles reassuringly before he speaks, “what you saw was probably a Nomu.”

“A what?” Twice says, “I know what that is!”

Izuku hesitates a moment, “I am not sure myself, I'm afraid, all I know is that the Nomu have been here at least as long as I have, they guard Yomi and rarely venture far into the residential areas.”

The others fall into a stunned silence, though Dabi looks incredibly relieved, not that Izuku blames him. “There is no need to be worried about them, they recognise new comrades rather quickly, besides,” Izuku gestures to his friend who approaches rather quickly, “Shiruba is also a Nomu.”

“Huh?” And all varieties of the aforementioned come from the group in front of him. Izuku briefly wonders if he shouldn't have broken it to them a bit more gently, especially with the renewed suspicion being send towards Shiruba lingering behind him.

Izuku clears his throat in the hopes of regaining control of the situation, “Shiruba isn't a threat, I assure you, it's actually quite different from the others.”

The reassurance isn't as effective as Izuku had hoped, but at least they look less uneasy.

“If there aren't any more questions, then I'd like to resume the original plans and prepare for our travel towards Uda.”

The group agrees with varying degrees of enthusiasm, and the subject was gratefully dropped all together. For now at least.

Fortunately for Izuku, good natured ribbing amongst the rowdier of his current company aside, the rest of their preparations continued on without a hitch. They had first returned back to Hirao in order to buy some rations and return some of the borrowed supplies, only to borrow from them once again, in the form of protective cloaks for the upcoming weather, with the promise to return them on the way back. Of course the people didn't complain when Izuku asked for them, but he feels a bit guilty nonetheless, especially since some of his group had already travelled for an entire day in clothes that couldn't compete to the strange local climate. Tomura had been the only one properly dressed, however this was only because he had been given a single outfit of proper clothes back home by father, his original clothes were tattered beyond saving, but even he was told to get the rest himself. Father could be truly merciless sometimes.

Once they had finished their business in Hirao they had returned to the horses, then Izuku had refreshed everyone on how to get on the horses without immediately falling off again and he had weathered to several comments on how riding horses wearing a cloak reminded nearly the entire group- sans Tomura- of some kind of popular book- or manga- that they had read when they were younger. At the very least they didn't nag about video games again, Izuku isn't sure his composure can take another episode like that. Watching the unfortunate sods hold on to their mounts with their dear lives however, soothed his soul at least somewhat.

All of which led to their current state of peace and quiet, nearing the border of what once was the outskirts of the bustling city Uda. Nowadays the roads have been broken up and corroded by the all encompassing forest, with exception of the centre, very little of what the city once was still remains.

This awareness is exactly the reason why Izuku isn't surprised when after a while he hears the sound of hoofs occasionally hitting concrete and asphalt with perfect rhythm. It actually took a while for the others to notice, but soon they reach a debilitated railway and the realisation finally hits.

“Is that... a road I'm seeing here?” Says Mr. Compress with no little amount of uncertainty.

His observation is followed by other's, “what the- we're in the city already?” and “I thought there weren't any trains around here?” probably relating the the rusted ruin of a once proud and modern vehicle still standing in the middle of the rail.

In hindsight Izuku probably should have told them a bit more clearly about what he meant when he said that most of Yomi had been taken over by the forest. Better late then never he supposes, perhaps seeing was better than hearing as it is. As much as he would love to give them all the time they need to gawk, the air was beginning to become increasingly threatening. The pressure warning him of a downpour is clear as day to him. If they wanted to stay ahead of the weather, they cannot afford to linger in the slightest.

“I had warned all of you, hadn't I? Most of the cities here have fallen into ruin, sceneries like these are common around here,” Bijozakura didn't need much encouragement to pick up the pace, “don't fall behind, I'd like to reach Uda before it pours!”

Despite it being only the second time Izuku has forced them to into a much faster pace, the group behind him only had minimal trouble keeping up with him, which he has no qualms admitting is very impressive. He reminds himself to tell them as much when they all have their feet back on the ground again. Preferably without drowning in Yomi's supernaturally aggressive weather.

It is well into the late afternoon when they arrive in Uda, the rain had only began to fall by the time they reach the local stable. The building isn't as grand as the one on mount Yoshino, but it smells just the same and is somewhat cozy nonetheless. The horses were put in their respective stalls and didn't put up too much of a fuss when they all said their goodbyes for the remainder of the day. Though the group did linger much longer than they absolutely had to, and Izuku is certain that if he'd ask for the reason why he would be told it's because the trouble they had taking all of the gear off of the animals, which admittedly is part of the reason. Bijozakura's calling after him when he finally leaves is a little heartbreaking, but he's rather used to it by now, the horse is probably the reincarnation of a loyal dog, his dramatics isn't anything new. The rest of his group, however, returned two or three times just to 'see if they hadn't forgotten anything', as if. Villains acting rough and tough is something that's never going to grow old.

Izuku smiles knowingly at their backs, they all bonded faster with the animals then he could have ever hoped. Yet, while everyone had already gathered at the stable entrance to collectively complain at the building downpour they will have to walk through, Tomura arrives last, hunched into himself and still limping slightly on his healing leg. The man kept glancing back every few steps, looking every bit like he'd rather sleep on the hay, than on a comfortable bed in the local inn. Though the sentiment is shared by the rest, if not for an entirely different reason, Izuku can't exactly budge on things like this, especially since Tomura is still recovering from the beating he had taken a few weeks ago.

He puts on his friendliest smile when he's close enough and Tomura finally glances up from his own feet.

“Are you concerned about them?” Izuku gently inquires, purposefully vague.

Tomura touched the bandages covering his neck before rubbing his hair between his fingers instead. He doesn't say anything in reply, but he doesn't have to, Izuku knows enough already.

“That's very kind of you,” Tomura looks up with wide eyes, and Izuku stares back into them mercilessly as he adds, “they will be fine, in fact, they are dryer and comfier than we will soon be.”

Izuku then breaks eye contact and walks away to join the others, he wonders how it is that these people have wormed their way into his heart so quickly, for the deep relief he feels when he hears Tomura's irregular footsteps follow behind him is potent enough to be directed at close family.

“Hey Izu-kun!” Toga greets cheerfully.

Twice quickly follower her example, waving energetically before asking, “can't we sleep in here instead? It'd be awesome to go outside right now!”

Hearing the roar of the rain just meters removed from them, it isn't hard to decide which statement to respond to, “as lovely as that would be, I'd rather not, you are going to need all the rest you can get, or you are going to regret it by the end of this week.”

Dabi winces, “don't remind me...”

“A little too late for that, I'm afraid.” Izuku replies.

Mr. Compress speaks up before Izuku can tell everyone to move on towards the inn, “if you don't mind me asking right now, Denka, what happened to Yomi to make it like this?”

Izuku knows the question is probably vague on purpose, probably to buy them all some time before they inevitably have to face the weather, but he decides to humour the man. “Could you specify that? A lot has happened to Yomi in the past decade.”

Mr. Compress readjusts his top hat and clears his throat, “I'm sorry, I meant to ask, what happened to make Yomi this...” the man gestures around him, “old fashioned?”

“I have mentioned the public transport being cut off, right?” When Mr. Compress nods, Izuku smiles tiredly and continues, “Public transport wasn't the only thing that was cut off from Yomi, water, electricity, and other amenities had gone as well, all in a desperate attempt to drive everyone out fifteen years ago. These actions forced us all to either adapt or to submit, and we had chosen to adapt.”

His group appeared stunned into silence, like they hadn't expected the answer. Which in turn surprised Izuku. To him decision made sense, if the Heroes couldn't invade them to retake Yomi, and defeating them from the outside in was near impossible, trying to get them all to leave was the next best solution. Sadly for the Heroes, apparently they hadn't anticipated his father taking everything in stride, Yomi thrives even without most modern luxuries.

After that brief moment of silence, Izuku considers just herding everyone to he inn already, if not so they could finally get comfortably settled for the rest of the day.

“Hey, is that a cat?” Twice points excitedly to a corner by the door, “It's not, don't look!”

Izuku takes a calming breath to fortify his patience, and looks at the subject of another desperate last resort. There was indeed a cat, perched calmly just a stones throw away from them. It's appearance clearly told him that the poor animal hadn't managed to fully avoid the downpour. Yet, something about the unfortunate creature seems awfully familiar, as if he's looking at someone he has known his entire life. Luminous white fur, intelligent yellowish green eyes and a thin but conspicuous scar across it's face. The animal reminds him a lot of his father.

Was homesickness making him see things?

The cat stares right back in his direction, and after a moment or so of awkward silence, his father's animal incarnation blinks indolently and trudges towards him. Up close it's clear that the cat is easily twice the size of it's normal kin, somehow Izuku felt rather small himself in comparison, but still he crouched down to greet the animal like he would any other. The cat bypasses his outstretched hand and in another parallel to his father it presses it's forehead against his chin. Despite being wet, it's furry body radiates a comforting heat, one Izuku found himself easily basking in. It's feels like home, like the many nights he spend in his father's arms as a child.

Toga's cheerful voice brings him back to reality, “Do you know this cutie?”

“Yes- or well, not that I know,” without thinking he gathers it into his arms, unbothered by the water soaking into his clothes, “but it appears to know me quite well.”

“You're taking it along?” Dabi asks incredulously.

Izuku sends him a dry look, “I might as well, I'm certain the inn keeper wouldn't mind.”

Determined to finally get to a warmer place, Izuku fumbles holding the calm animal into one arm to put on the hood of his cloak and walks towards the door with the intention to leave no room for argument.

“Are animals usually allowed?” Mr. Compress asks.

Izuku doesn't slow his pace, but answers nonetheless, “Yes, so long as this animal can behave itself, though there are obvious exceptions.” Like the horses for example, but he dearly hopes he won't have to spell that out for them.

“Now if all of you would run ahead first, I'll be right behind you along with Tomura, the inn is the large building right next to this one, it's pretty hard to miss.”

Luckily he managed to sound stern enough to convey he wasn't about to be delayed any longer, the group- sans Tomura- begrudgingly complied. Though Twice glanced back towards the two of them one last time before running after the others. With no further ado they follow at a much more sedate pace, Tomura not nearly in a state to be going any faster, and Izuku physically unable to convince himself to leave behind an injured man.

The inn is, similarly to the stables, a warm and cozy place, despite being made almost entirely out of wood. It's a great relief to step through the doors after braving the baleful weather.

Naturally Izuku was the one to both arrange the rooms and pay for everything needed. Neither of these were much of a problem, but he was truly starting to feel tired, the previous night still fresh on his mind, and he positively craves some time by himself. Or accompanied by Shiruba and a cat, he's willing to compromise on those two at least.

Shiruba had apparently waited outside the inn, the being had seemed to enjoy the pouring rain strangely enough, but it had given Dabi a near heart attack, who had yet to recover from the Nomu he'd seen that morning. As a result, everyone got equally drenched, and were equally in need of probably at least two towels. The only part of this situation that had served in his favour was that the inn was pretty quiet, there were plenty of rooms left, so each was granted a room of their own.

After everything was settled, Izuku left his group with the simply instruction to 'spend the time whichever way they wanted, as long as they didn't cause any trouble', with empathises on 'don't cause any trouble', just to be sure. He sincerely hopes that they'll be able to listen to that condition.

Izuku himself had ended up with the usual room he takes whenever he stays a night, one with an open view to the forest sprawling beyond wide pastures. After haphazardly leaving his bags on the floor he had first hurried to get himself and his blissfully silent companions clean and somewhat dry before any of them made more of a mess.

Which leaves him with a damp western style bed, Shiruba has absolutely no manners and the cat didn't care either, and absolutely no energy left to be bothered by it either. Yet, he couldn't really go to bed already, nor can he expect any of his current company to wake him up before dinner. Both Shiruba and the cat had left him for the realm of Morpheus, thus he is left with keeping himself occupied and awake before he ends up joining them.

Cleaning up seemed like a good way to spend time, until his eye catches one of the bags he had thrown in the corner of his room. He had, in matter of fact, taken a few things to keep himself occupied should the need arise. This idea had been inspired by Shouto, who had perhaps taken at least half his bookcase with him to keep himself sane. While Izuku had been much more sparing when he decided on pastimes, a notebook, a thick novel- The Count of Monte Cristo, always a classic- and a thick pile of papers and notebooks securely wrapped in cloth given to him by Chrono almost a week ago, he still had plenty to keep himself occupied.

The last of his mental list had him pause in his movement, the package lays heavily in his hands, yet he feels no incentive to put it away with the rest.

With little hesitation he carries it to his bed in the opposite corner of the room, and plops down next to his half slumbering company after lighting the candle on the nightstand. The cat gives him a curious glance, but in what perhaps was the most cat-like behaviour he has seen from the animal so far, goes right back to sleep after laying it's entire body as close to him as it could get away with. However, lack of moveability aside, the warm presence serves more as comfort than as an annoyance.

Izuku carefully unwraps the cloth and takes the weathered notebook on top of the pile. The object looks like it suffered quite a lot of beatings already, it's front cover barely keeping together, and it's pages crinkled and smudged. It is the complete opposite to the man's usual neat and organized nature, yet the barely legible handwriting on the cover is without a doubt Chrono's. Carefully opening it revealed that the text within was in a similar state, he could just barely translate the date at the top of the first page, 17^th of August 2192. Whatever the text was about, it was written roughly a month after he was born, which made him even more curious. Sadly he didn't have the energy nor the tools he needed at hand to make sense of the mess in front of him, he'll have to save it for later.

Luckily the very next handwoven notebook is in a much better shape, it's title rings clear; 'Panta Rhei', in Chrono's other much neater cursive handwriting, showing that he had taking his time writing every single word, it's contents just as enigmatic as it's writer. With his heart pounding in his ears, Izuku swallows his nerves and begins to read it's first page.

“In the words of an ancient Greek philosopher, 'no man steps into the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man.' I believe this suits our current situation very well.

With the assistance of my mutation, nowadays called 'quirks', I have the ability to look into someone else's river, to see what is to come, or see what has once been. However as you have guessed, I have little control over what version of this river I will see, or when I will see these mere possibilities. Time is constantly changing, yet time is simultaneously always the same. In the end, I suspect, time will be something that is never to be understood.

My quirk doesn't just allow me glimpses of other rivers, but it allows me to look within my own as well. Memories are eternal to me, my gifted curse forces me to never forget. I mourn the fact that I had so willingly passed that curse to poor young Hisashi. Just as I mourn that I had not seen what it would one day change his river into.

As far I have managed to perceive, among my fellow constructs of memory I am currently the only one truly aware of the current situation. To protect my sanity, and whatever remains of poor not-as-young-as-I-remember Hisashi's, I shall gladly consider this a mercy.

Now, I have little doubt, that you are scanning every word I had just written at least twice, searching for any meaning you may or may not understand. But I am certain, young Izuku, that by the time you are reading this, if you are anything like your dear father, that you have grown to be a shrewd young man. And I also hope that a kind young man like you won't mind if I ask of you a final favour.

Within the rest of these pages I have written everything I know of the many people we have lost in the past long gone, their name, their 'quirks' and briefly their story. Perhaps it is cruel that I ask you to share the burden resting on Hisashi, and remember as many of them as you can, so that they at the very least will not be forgotten, but I am left with little other choice.

May life be more kind to you, dear Izuku, I speak for all of us when I say that you and your dear father deserve some peace at last.”

Izuku can't believe his eyes, he has read and reread the page at least ten times, but still they make little sense. It doesn't help in the slightest that this confusion was likely on purpose, if the letter is to be believed, and true to Chrono's infuriating cryptic self, every word in every sentence are likely to hide some kind of hidden double meaning. Worse than that, the man had to have known that Izuku would skip the fist book on the pile the read this one first. It felt awfully much like a final goodbye, written by someone too aware of their own coming demise.

In his eleventh search for aforementioned double meanings, he sees certain words in the middle have been written slowly, and everywhere else with much more fervour, it looked suspiciously much like doubt. The way things were worded meant that Chrono hadn't been thinking ahead when he began writing, everything about it screamed spur of the moment decision. All in all, both alike and unlike the way he knows his teacher to be.

Just when Izuku was about to give up for the time being, and read the dreaded next pages apparently filled with the memory of the dead, he is interrupted by a soft hesitant knock on his door, only twice, followed by complete silence. Izuku gratefully closes the notebook in his hands, there couldn't be a better timing.

“Yes, Tomura?”

The door slides open very slowly to reveal exactly the who he had expected. Tomura looks stuck between awe and intense discomfort, the poor guy looked minutes away from using his own quirk against himself and fade away into the wind. And it's that terrifying thought vibrantly stuck in the forefront of his imagination, that has Izuku hurry to release the other from his suffering, “is there something I can help you with?”

His smile and light tone of voice seems to reassure the other somewhat, though only enough for Tomura to look less like a risk to his own well-being. It looks like all those times placating his father is actually becoming useful, how fantastic.

“The idio- the others send me...” Tomura plucks restlessly at the bandages around his neck, “to ask if you'd have dinner with us.”

“Dinner?” Izuku blurts out before he can stop himself. Was it that time already? A glance out the window reveals the world has indeed gone dark and the candle on the nightstand has halved in size, he must have spend more time reading than he had first thought. He turns back to Tomura, who has at one point started shifting hesitantly in his doorway.

“Ah, I would love to, uh, I'll come, just let me clean up a little first.”

Tomura still doesn't leave. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“No.”

Izuku falls quiet for a moment, yet he prides himself in his ability to read others, he doesn't need much to figure out just what it is the other actually wants. “In that case, just wait there for a moment.”

Just as asked, Tomura waits, not moving a step away from his spot in the doorway. Izuku doesn't need to look at him to know that there's a lost look written all over his face. He quickly but carefully rewraps the books as close to how he had gotten them as possible, extinguish the candle and nudges his lazy company awake. The cat moves easily, as if the animal had never been asleep in the first place. Shiruba on the other hand refuses to budge, he might as well be trying to move a brick wall with a chopstick. In the end it's just not worth the trouble, and he decides to leave him be.

Straightening up his clothes, Izuku meets Tomura at his door and grins, “let's go together.”

Tomura blinks perplexedly, but soon he gives a small smile of his own. Without another word, they leave for the common dining hall, in a strange company of two and a cat.

Dinner was somewhat uneventful, though it was much more lively than what he's used to. Conversations stayed much lighter compared to the previous evening, and all in all it felt like his group of ragtag villains were close friends who have known each other for years, despite only knowing each other for perhaps little more than a week. With the exception of Himiko and Twice, who apparently share a brief history with each other, the two met a few months ago and arrived at Yomi together. The others, however, were all complete strangers. Knowing this, Izuku is all the more grateful that they get along so well.

Otherwise, jokes were shared, the mysterious cat was fussed over, and he himself ended spending most of the time politely shoving food in his face while mulling over Chrono's cryptic words.

After deserts they had all gone to settle down for the night in their respective rooms, and morning arrives gracing them with much gentler weather. The torrent had flooded most of the field and turned trenches into rivulets. It is a happy sight to wake up to, to see the animals unbothered by the change, cheerfully continuing to graze on whatever grass not submerged in fresh rainwater. No matter what, mother nature will continue to move forward.

Izuku yawns for the tenth time that morning, he barely slept the previous night, reading the semi-detailed notes on people who had died in the massacre over two centuries ago. How or why they had been killed, he hadn't managed to figure out yet. None of the notes mentioned much on subject. But all of them seemed like perfectly ordinary people, with normal jobs and aspirations, nothing to give away why they were hunted down like a plague of rats. The idea that those innocent people had met their ends in such a cruel way, hadn't allowed him to rest even a minute. Yet, he is the future leader to the people of Yomi. He shouldn't allow this to get to him.

Much earlier than planned, Izuku makes his way to the stables to prepare for the travel to the capital city Nara. What he absolutely hadn't expected is to find all of his group already there, semi-energetically mingling with each other and the horses, some more than others. He is first noticed by Toga, who sends him a bright and toothy grin, “Izu-kun, g'morning!”

This draws the attention of the rest, each giving him a greeting of their own, though much less energetically then Toga. Even Twice seems effected by the early hour. Which really makes him wonder why on earth they were all up so early, if it wasn't due to restlessness. As much as he wishes to ask, he decides against it. Instead he dons his most sunny smile and returns their greeting with more vigour than he actually has.

While making his way to Bijozakura, closely followed by a certain mysterious feline and a much larger equally mysterious Shiruba, Izuku can't help but comment, “Though I have to say, you must all are very excited for our next travel, to be up so early, I can appreciate that.”

In response he's met with a clamour of semi-sarcastic 'can't make you wait sir', much less sarcastic but more enthusiastic, 'you're wrong, I couldn't wait', and a murmur of 'I merely couldn't sleep, it's nothing praiseworthy'. It isn't hard to guess who said what, really. Tomura had stayed quiet, but stood much straighter, even from a distance it's clear that he preens at the thinly veiled compliment. If this is the type of response he gets every time he gives them a compliment, then he absolutely has to do it more often, they certainly deserve it.

While patting Bijozakura's neck Izuku realises that there was another voice missing from the cacophony earlier. The sound of approaching footsteps and clopping of hooves alert him of someone's presence. He turns around just in time to see Toga walk into view, Higanbana in hand. Unlike what he has seen from her so far, Toga seems to be hesitant about something. Her eyes are shifty, not entirely unlike Tomura last evening, and Higanbana shifts restlessly behind her.

But before he can get in a word of reassurance, or anything likewise, Toga smiles and asks, “are you doing okay?” All Izuku can do in response of stare in bewilderment, to which Toga adds, “you look kinda tired, and at dinner you were really quiet, so all of us decides to get up a little early and get things ready so you don't have to.”

Laughter escapes him before he can do anything to stop it. He must be more tired than he thought he was, if he were that obvious to everyone around him. Either that, or he must have underestimated how sharp the newest recruits really are. Never judge a book by it's cover, they say. However, despite their kindness, and despite his own wishes, he can't just burden them with his troubles, especially with little he knows about the entire situation himself.

“Thank you for the concern Toga, but I'm fine, I merely have a bit of trouble sleeping lately, that is all.”

Toga doesn't seem all that convinced, but thankfully she lets it go. “Okay, if you say so, Izu-kun.”

“I won't make all of you wait much longer, you can go join everyone else now,” and as an afterthought he adds, “also, can you please tell everyone to wait at the entrance? And to get ready for travel.”

Toga's smile turns into a grin and she salutes with her free hand, “yessir!”

While he watches her disappear from view, giggling to herself, Izuku wonders if there is an inside joke of some kind he's missing here. Perhaps he did grow up a bit more sheltered than he first thought.

Bijozakura snorts into his ear, reminding him of what he had been doing before Toga had walked in. Giving the loyal horse one last pat he swiftly finishes up fastening the saddle in place and stores the last of his luggage. The cat spontaneously jumps onto his back, nearly knocking him over, but after a bit of shifting around, the animal rests happily over his shoulders like a fancy scarf.

“Warn me next time, will you.” He says to it.

The cat responds with a highly sarcastic stare of bright green eyes. 'And how should I do that?' it seems to say.

Izuku sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, he really needs to get some proper sleep soon.

He slaps a smile onto his face and mounts Bijozakura without any further ado, jostling his own passenger but fortunately not knocking it off, and heads towards the stable entrance. Just as promised, the entire group has already gathered there, fully geared up and ready to go, though unlike him still with both feet on the ground.

That will have to change.

“You still know how to mount a horse, don't you?” His question was taken at face value, and Izuku watches them scramble to do as asked. Twice even manages to succeed at the first try this time. Third time is truly the charm.

He guides Bijozakura outside, though with little incentive, the beast knows what he wants. “I thought, why not explain our plans for today while riding, this way we can truly enjoy the fresh morning air to it's fullest,” fresh being an understatement, it was barely ten degrees, for the time of the year it might as well be freezing, “and while we're at it, let's have breakfast on the go as well, consider it part of your training.”

Joining up with him, Dabi smiles wryly, “I'm not sure if I like the sound of that.”

“There is no rest for the wicked, Dabi,” Izuku grins back at them without mercy, “it's better to get used to it sooner rather than later.”

With that, the third day of their journey begins.

Chapter Text

From the beginning on I really enjoyed writing Panta Rhei, but through several setbacks and bad dicisions I've burned myself out, to the point where writing as a whole wasn't fun anymore. I really wanted this story to work out, and even started a slight spin-off in the hopes that it would revive my inspiration for the real thing. Yet it only did the opposite, it further cemented what I already kind of knew.
I'm really bad at improvising.
A valuable lesson, really, if anything I'm grateful for it.
Panta Rhei has given me a lot of experience, and I hope to put all of that into a project that I have been daydreaming about for a long time, but never had the confidence to actually write.
So with this, I'm putting this story to rest.
Thank you for reading and for all of the your support!