Chapter Text
Izuku is, for lack of a better word, panicking. He should have called this in. He should have grabbed Shouto and ran.
He didn’t.
Now he’s clutching a wailing toddler in his arms and has no idea where to fucking go.
He fumbles out his phone, pressing a number he hopes is one, able to help and two, not going to ream his ass for his poor decision making.
“Izuku?” He answers on the first ring.
“I have a problem and I need help.”
“What’s going on?”
“Well, let’s just say if Aizawa finds out I’m probably not going to be UA’s problem child anymore.” Toshinori sighs.
“Come to my apartment. We’ll figure this out.”
Izuku does. He books it down familiar streets, One for all powering his leaps and bounds.
He jumps up to the balcony, bypassing the stairs and elevators and other people altogether.
“What in heavens! Oh. Izuku. What are you going here?” His mother asks, a frying pan still lathered with suds held above her head, brandished as a weapon.
“I fucked up,” he says simply. Somewhere along the way the crying had stopped, subdued sniffling and desperate clinging to his rumpled blazer.
“Izuku. Why do you-“
"Young Midoriya!" All-might yells, using his brief moments in his muscle form to be overdramatic. That, gets the toddler's attention, wide eyes, and cheeks with drying tears on them whipping around to face the retired hero.
"Shouto?!" His mother exclaims, eyes wide at the unmistakable tiny form of her son's boyfriend. He's different than she's really ever seen him, his mouth in a bright grin, eyes wide and bright, chubby hands still fisted in Izuku's shirt and... the feature that's been a part of him for eleven years, is absent.
"I see," Toshinori starts, steam rising from his body as he deflates, his gaunt frame taking shape in its place. When it does, Shouto starts crying again.
"Yeah. You see, we ran into this villain, and I should have had Shouto call it in and we really shouldn't have done anything and Shouto really shouldn't have done anything because he doesn't have a license yet but you know how he is and she came at me and Shouto tried to restrain her with his ice and she made kind of a glitter bomb and threw it at him and in the end we got her but then when the police left I turned around and he was like this." His mother comes closer, hand over her mouth to look at the small boy wrapped in Izuku's blazer.
"Does he have his quirk still?" Toshinori asks.
"He looks too young I think. Maybe three?"
"He won't talk to me," Izuku says.
"Here, you two talk, let me see him," Inko says. Izuku hesitates, not really wanting to let him out of his sight, but he withers under his mom's gaze and hands her Shouto, who she immediately sets on his feet on the ground.
"Let's go find you some clothes," she says. Shouto pauses for a moment, then, slowly, reaches up and tugs on Inko's skirt, holding out his hand, eyes on the floor. Inko takes it and they disappear down the hall.
"Alright. So you said she threw something at him? Do you think it was an aerosol quirk?" Toshinori asks. Izuku tears his eyes away from the empty hallway, meeting his mentor and soon to be step-father in the eyes.
"It's possible I guess. With the way she was fighting, I had assumed she had an agility based quirk so the powder substance was a surprise. It's possible he inhaled some of it, or it could have been absorbed through his skin, or it's a plain contact quirk. Though since there was a lag time before it presented I'm assuming there's an absorption factor somewhere."
"Izuku, he seems to be safe. You can calm down. Take a deep breath."
"Yeah, I know. I did a brief assessment on him before we left. He seems perfectly healthy apart from being... well... tiny."
"You did the right thing there. You're right, you should have let someone else handle it, someone not accompanied by an unlicensed, technically, bystander, but if you had you wouldn't be Deku. You wouldn't be my successor and I would be wondering if Toga got to you again." Izuku chuckles. "Right now, I think you go talk to the police, see what they have about her quirk and Inko and I will watch Shouto. See if anything changes over the next few hours."
Izuku isn't overly thrilled with this plan, mostly because it involves leaving Shouto, even if it is just with his mother.
He goes down the hall, wanting to say goodbye to the toddler before he leaves, let him know he's coming back. He knocks on the door to his old room, opens it when he's beckoned by his mother's voice. He's met with the sight of Shouto, son of Endeavor, in an All-might onesie. One of Izuku's All-might onesies. He kneels in front of the child, trying not to take offense when Shouto steps behind his mother's leg slightly.
"Hi, Shouto. I'm Izuku. You can call me, Deku." Shouto frowns. "Yeah, it's a weird name huh? It's my hero name. I'm training to be a hero. I'll explain more later, but I have to go do some hero work. I'll come back soon," Izuku takes a deep breath. If there was ever a time to declare himself, this is it. "Everything is going to be alright...because I am here." Shouto looks at him, actually makes eye contact for a long moment before giving a slow, deliberate nod. Izuku smiles brightly, counting it as a success.
He tries to make his trip as quick as possible, speeding through town and trying to get the information he wants like, yesterday.
In the end, it's pretty useless. She, Nagisa, doesn't have a reversal. She just says 'it'll pass.'
He closes the door with a little more force than necessary. Toshinori looks up from the kitchen where he's making coffee.
"Went well, did it?" He asks.
"She doesn't have a cure. She says it passes and how long it takes varies by person but it could be up to or over a week. Apparently, he only has the memories he had at that age and he'll continue to gain them as he approaches his actual age. Because of how quickly he'll age, she 'estimates'," Izuku goes aggressive finger quotes, "about a year a day, she 'assumes' he won't remember much because it will be overshadowed by the other memories."
"You're thrilled with that information I see."
"How can someone know so little about their own quirk!" Izuku shouts.
"Izuku, stop yelling," his mother scolds, walking up the hallway alone.
"Where's Shouto?" Izuku asks, his voice thinly concealed panic. His mother gives him a flat look.
"Izuku. Calm. You're going to have a heart attack before I do at this rate. He's asleep in your old room."
"Oh." Izuku feels like a balloon that's had all the air let out of it. He sinks onto the couch, boneless and exhausted.
"He told me a couple things," his mom says, sitting down next to him.
"Really?"
"Well, sort of. Yes or no kinds of things. He's four right now. His doesn't have a quirk yet. He doesn't want to go home. The only thing he actually said was 'where's momma.'"
"What did you tell him?" Izuku asks.
"I said she was sick right now and she wasn't at home. He seemed confused but okay with that."
"Yeah, I don't think she really got out much, that's probably why he was confused." His mother looks at him. "Endeavor is a strict man," he says, the minimization of what Endeavor did to Rei and Shouto burning like acid on his tongue.
"He doesn't let her leave?" His mom asks. Izuku shrugs. This is probably already more than Shouto would want her to know. "That's not right. That's very controlling." Izuku doesn't say anything. He lets his eyes slip closed, lets the exhaustion take over.
Izuku is pulled from his sleep by soft whimpering and a weight on his lap.
"Shouto?" Izuku asks, blinking the sleep from his eyes. Shouto doesn't say anything, just lays his head down on Izuku's chest, his shoulders shaking and his chest heaving. He's having nightmares at four... Izuku thinks sadly. "It's okay, Shouto. You're safe here, you're with me," Izuku soothes, grabbing the blanket off the arm of the chair and covering his small body with it.
"Will you... Can you say it again?" His voice is so small compared to what Izuku has known it as. Izuku smiles gently, letting his head fall, his nose brushing soft hair.
"You're safe, Shouto. You're safe because I am here."
He's not sure how long he sits there, running his hand up an impossibly small back, muttering soft reassurances until the heaves are just deep breaths, till deep breaths are light snores. Till the shaking in his shoulders is just the rise and fall of his breathing.
Izuku had known for a long time that Shouto was abused at home. He'd been helping him cope with the aftermaths intimately for eighteen months. But knowing, and seeing this small, innocent, fragile kid quaking in the middle of the night are two different things and it has tears slipping silently down Izuku's cheeks and nestling in hetero-chromic hair.
When his mother and stepfather-to-be find the two in the living room the tears have long since dried, the nightmares hours ago subsided and they simply think it's cute. It's precious that the tiny boy feels comfortable with Izuku in a strange place with all strange people.
It's early in the morning when Shouto wakes. Early on a Monday morning.
School.
It's early on a Monday morning and when Inko asks Shouto how old he is, he holds up five fingers.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.