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All men are not created equal.
Izuku knew that better than anyone, and it was something he was never going to forget. From birth, he was designated differently than his peers, set aside in a category he would be branded with for life.
Disabled.
He didn’t mean quirkless. That was something that came along after he turned five and there was no indication that his quirk had developed. No, Izuku had been physically disabled since birth, but it wasn’t something that became apparent until Izuku was a little older.
Well, Izuku supposed being born three months premature was a big sign, but his mother and doctors didn’t know anything was wrong until he failed to crawl properly. Instead of moving like a normal baby, Izuku dragged himself along by his arms and barely used his legs, in some sort of adorable, disconcerting, baby army crawl.
His diagnosis came once he reached walking age and still hadn’t maintained enough balance to stand up, let alone take a few steps.
“Your son has cerebral palsy in his legs, Midoriya-san. Specifically spastic diplegia, which effects the lower half of the body. He will never walk.”
His mother had taken the news well. So what if her son was disabled? He was still her son and she loved him, no matter what. Izuku’s life was bound to be harder than that of his abled-bodied peers, but they’d get through it together.
Then, Izuku walked.
A bit shaky, with a scissor-like gait as if he was a marionette, but he walked.
“That’s incredible, Midoriya-san, but your son will never run,” his doctors said.
Again, his mother accepted the news with stride. It was enough that Izuku could walk, when so many others with his condition could not; running wasn’t necessary.
Then, Izuku ran.
Not that he remembered any of this, of course. He simply went off stories his mother told him, proud tears building in her eyes. He didn’t remember asking her to treat him like the other kids, he didn’t remember saying he was like everyone else and that his legs didn’t matter.
He didn’t remember meeting Bakugou or the other kids in the neighbourhood. He didn’t remember chasing after them on his awkward little legs, desperate to be a part of the group but unable to keep up. He didn’t remember falling over and over until he’d developed ways to fall without doing too much damage to himself.
He did remember the moment his doctor said he was quirkless.
Izuku’s dream of becoming a hero, of saving people with a smile like All Might, was dashed. He wanted to prove that disabled people were just as capable of being heroes, but that dream was out of his reach.
He remembered his mother clinging to him and weeping, “I’m sorry, Izuku. I’m sorry.”
He remembered Bakugou’s scornful expression. “What the hell? A quirk was supposed to help your legs! Now you’re just gonna be a useless Deku.”
Disabled, quirkless, Deku; titles Izuku was branded with forever.
He remembered days of chronic pain. He became so used to it that he could tell his different pains part. Those were the days where Izuku overexerted himself—he walked too far or ran too hard—and his legs would ache until he had a suitable amount of rest. Or there were days where his legs would be sore for no other reason than he was disabled. Izuku had creatively called that his ‘cerebral palsy pain’ and those aches were the worst kind.
No amount of painkillers would help him, and Izuku didn’t like the idea of taking them anyway. If he took painkillers every time he was in pain, he would soon grow too used to them and they’d be ineffective.
He remembered pitying stares. No matter what age he was, strangers would look at him on the street with sad eyes, as if he something to feel sorry for.
He remembered countless questions.
“What’s wrong with your legs?”
“Why do you have a limp?”
“Can you walk properly?”
“Why do you walk you like that?”
“It sounds like you’re too disabled, so why do you want to be a hero?”
“Why isn’t there anything wrong with you mentally, then?”
“Haven’t you tried to get someone with a healing quirk to fix you?”
Izuku tried to ignore people like that. He was just a person. He wasn’t broken and didn’t need fixing, no matter what anyone thought. His disability was a part of him, like his freckles and his green hair, but it didn’t define him. He was more than a shaky set of legs.
Regardless of the countless insensitive questions thrown at him, Izuku didn’t let that deter him. Years of being looked down on by people had given him a thick skin and a strong self esteem. He was still nervous and skittish around people—years of teasing from Bakugou had left their toll, after all—but he knew he was more than the labels society had branded him with.
When his hero told him he couldn’t be a hero without a quirk, it hurt but he accepted it. He wrapped his resilient self-confidence around himself like armour and was determined to make a difference regardless of his limitations; he didn’t need to be a hero to help someone.
Which was why when his childhood friend was being attacked by a slime monster, his legs, his shaky, unsteady, disabled legs, moved on their own. He rushed to help Bakugou, and did enough to stall until All Might could arrive and save the day.
He would never forget the moment All Might offered him One For All.
After years of pity, doubt, and people treating him like he was made of glass, here was his idol saying, “You can be a hero.”
Izuku wanted to agree instantly and he did, the “Yes” slipping out before he could stop it. Tears streamed down his face, but he knew it couldn’t be that easy. Despite his instant answer, the world wasn’t that kind to people like him.
“I want to, but I’m disabled,” he sniffed, curling up in a ball on the ground. “I can’t do everything that other people can do. Surely there are others who are more suited?”
All Might crouched down until he was at Izuku’s level and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “That’s discriminating against yourself, don’t you think? You moved forward to save that boy despite your limitations, didn’t you? All top heroes have had the same experience: their bodies moved on their own when someone was in trouble.”
“But—”
“You have the potential to be a hero, Young Midoriya. To be my successor as the symbol of peace. Someone that people, both able bodied and not, can look up to. You merely need to take the chance.”
Izuku wiped his eyes and stared at All Might. Here was his hero, offering him his dream on a silver platter. In that moment, there was only thing he could say.
“Yes.”
That was the beginning for him; his origin story. It was the start of The Disabled Hero: Deku.
Izuku thought he knew pain, until he began All Might’s ‘American Dream Plan.’ A rigorous training regime, it was specifically designed to suit Izuku’s needs, but his legs still screamed in protest after each one of his work outs.
His mother worried about him, but supported him when she saw how determined he was to succeed. She made him healthy meals, and encouraged him when he said he wanted to apply for U.A.’s hero course.
“The doctors said you wouldn’t live when you were born,” she said one afternoon, after Izuku came home from a run with All Might.
“Really?” Izuku looked at her in surprise; she had never told him that.
“You were so small and tiny, they didn’t think you’d survive, but I did. I knew you were a fighter. Then the doctors said you wouldn’t walk, but you did. They said you wouldn’t run, but you did. Then they told you wouldn’t have a quirk, and one developed late.” She hugged him, proud tears pouring down her face. “I’ve always believed that you were put on this world to do amazing things, Izuku, and if that’s becoming a hero despite you’re disabilities, I’ll support you.”
That proved too much for Izuku, and he broke out in tears as he clung to her. “Thank you, Mum.”
She simply hugged him tighter, and nothing else needed to be said.
Receiving One For All didn’t mean he’d magically gained better balance.
He tripped on his way to the U.A. exam, and was already moving to catch himself like he’d done a thousand times before when a hand tapped him and he was suddenly weightless. Izuku was turned in mid-air by a kind-looking girl, who then released her quirk and he gently dropped back onto the ground.
“Sorry to use my quirk on you without permission,” she said, “but it would have been unlucky to fall today.”
Izuku opened his mouth but no words came out. His face was beet-red, he was sure, but he didn’t know what to say to her. He’d never really had friends throughout school, deemed an outcast by his disability, lack of quirk and Bakugou’s constant teasing. So, when faced with a nice person on the morning of an important exam, all he could do was stutter.
She didn’t seem to mind, though, and sent him a kind smile. “Good luck!” she waved and went on her way.
He might not have made a good impression on her, but she did on him. So when Izuku saw her pinned during the exam with the giant robot bearing down on her, his reaction was instinctive.
Izuku channeled One For All through his body and jumped. “SMASH!”
He and his mother both cried when he received his acceptance letter to U.A.
Izuku still couldn’t believe it, but his mother dried her eyes and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.
“Amazing things,” she told him, and then went to make katsudon to celebrate.
Izuku stared nervously at the door to the 1A classroom. This was it. His first step to becoming a pro hero. He took a deep breath and then walked in, hoping he wouldn’t be in a class with Bakugou or the scary person with the glasses that he’d had a run in with during the exam.
Izuku mentally prepared himself for all the questions he was about to receive, but instead the class’s attention was taken by the two people he was just hoping not to see. Bakugou, in typical Bakugou fashion, was arguing with the glasses-wearing boy from the exam, who introduced himself as Iida Tenya. Unfortunately, Bakugou glanced his way and the whole class turned to face him.
Izuku froze. He could tell they were all looking at the awkward way he stood, and his uneven gait as he inched into the room. He was certain that now he was going to receive a million questions, but instead Iida marched up to him, proclaiming that Izuku knew the trick to the entrance exam.
Fortunately, the tense atmosphere was broken by the nice person appearing behind him. “Oh, that curly hair! You’re the plain-looking one! You passed, just like Present Mic said. Of course you did! Your punch was amazing!”
As Uraraka continued to cheerful chatter at him, he tried to choke out a thank you for trying to give him some of her entrance exam points. He was also aware of the Bakugou’s angry glare boring into him, but before he could do or say anything else, a tired voice interrupted them all.
“Go somewhere else if you want to play at being friends.”
They all turned to see an exhausted looking man get out of a sleeping bag on the floor. By the time they belatedly realised that this was their homeroom teacher, Aizawa-sensei was already telling them to get changed and go outside.
The fitness test went about as well as Izuku expected it to go. Even with the threat of expulsion if he came last, he was never going to do well in a physical challenge, and he accepted that. It didn’t make his anxiety any less, though, and getting his quirk erased by Aizawa-sensei—Eraser Head, the underground hero! How cool!—definitely didn’t help his nerves.
“I am not saying this because you’re are disabled,” his teacher said, speaking low enough that the others couldn’t hear. “This has nothing to do with the fact you can’t keep up with your classmates, but quirks are physical abilities, too. From what I can tell, you can’t control your quirk, can you? Do you intend to be incapacitated again and have someone save you?”
“That’s—that’s not my intention!”
“Whatever your intention, I’m saying that’s what those around you will be forced to do. In the past, there was an oppressively passionate hero who saved over a thousand people by himself and created a legend. Even if you have the same reckless valor, you’ll just be decked and turn into a useless doll after saving one person.”
Izuku stared at him, wide-eyed. “So my cerebral palsy—”
“This is not about your disability. Disabilities don’t matter here. This is about your quirk.” He paused, as if making sure Izuku understood the gravity of what he was about to say. “Midoriya Izuku. With your power, you can’t become a hero.”
Despite the circumstances, Izuku wanted to smile. For once, it wasn’t about his disability. He wasn’t getting judged for that, but the fact he couldn’t control his quirk yet. Filled with a sense of determination, he went back to throw the ball again once Aizawa-sensei had returned his power.
His disability didn’t matter, but his quirk. Yes, his physical weakness put him in last place compared to his peers, but he could work on that. He could train and get fitter, despite the pain; he’d developed a high pain tolerance over the years, anyway.
Right now, he had to focus on his quirk. He needed to prove he had potential to stay in hero course. But how? Did he risk it all and put the full power of One For All into the throw, like he was originally going to? It wasn’t a great option, but what else could he do?
Grimacing, he went to throw. He had to go all out.
It was just as Aizawa-sensei said. At his current rate, there was no way he could become a hero. He had to work a lot harder than other people to match them, but Izuku was no stranger to that. He was already doing that long before he walked the halls of U.A.
So, with all his strength, he decided to do the what he could in that moment. Izuku sent the ball flying, gritting through the pain as the power of One For All broke his finger.
“Sensei,” he turned to his teacher, grinning despite it all. “I can still move.”
Things fell into a certain rhythm after that and everything became pretty normal. Well, as normal as it could be when you attended a school for future pro heroes.
Izuku became fast friends with his classmates. They easily accepted his explanation of, “I have cerebral palsy in my legs,” and left it at that. They didn’t treat him any differently. They didn’t think of him as any less than they were, or try to wrap him up in cotton wool so he wouldn’t get hurt.
He was their classmate and he was going to be a hero, just like them.
They didn’t think his disability defined him and Izuku found his new classmates were ready to step up and defend him from anyone who thought otherwise. When he would walk to the train station with Iida and Uraraka and people would send him pitying looks, his friends would close ranks protectively around him. They stared down the strangers, as if daring them to make a comment.
Bakugou was furious that he supposedly hid his quirk, but Izuku expected that. He had never been angry about Izuku’s disability, but more the fact that Izuku kept standing up to him, when he was the one least able to fight back and protect himself. He was sure there was more to it, but Izuku tried to ignore Bakugou’s anger and focus on his studies and new friends.
Besides, Bakugou wouldn’t be himself if he wasn’t angry about something. Still, Izuku couldn’t deny that it felt nice to win against him in the hero vs villain mock battle, broken arm notwithstanding.
The USJ incident happened and they all nearly died. It was utterly terrifying, but it did bring their class closer together. There were some things you couldn’t go through without becoming better friends, and going up against the League of Villains was one of them.
Izuku thought the sports festival was important, because it was his chance to announce himself to the world. His chance to announce ‘I am here!’ and that he was going to be a hero. His moment to show other people like him that they could chase their dreams, no matter their disabilities.
Then Todoroki challenged him, took him aside and told him about his father’s vendetta against All Might. How he refused to use his fire because of Endeavour. How he would win the festival with just his ice, in order to spite his father.
And Izuku had a new reason to win in his match against Todoroki.
The fight was brutal. Adrenaline coursed through his veins and he’d broken all of his fingers, but he wouldn’t back down. He was filled with indignant fury, but he was determined to help Todoroki and wouldn’t stop until he managed it.
“It took everything for me to get here!” Izuku cried, dodging out of the way of an ice blast. “Extra training, extra effort, just to stand at the starting line! You got in easily, but only use half your strength?! How is that fair? How is that fair to anyone?!”
“You don’t understand—”
“Of course I don’t understand! I have a disability that I can’t be cured from and I still fight with everything I have; you are giving yourself a handicap out of spite!”
“It’s not—”
“Everyone’s fighting with everything they’ve got. To win and get closer to their dream...To become number one...You want to win with just half your strength?! You haven’t put a single scratch on me yet, you know! Come at me with everything you’ve got!”
Punches, ice, broken fingers, they threw everything into the fight. Izuku should have been worried about his injuries, should have been concerned at how beat up his body had become, but he had tunnel vision. All the mattered was smashing through the walls Todoroki had put up around himself and getting him to unlock his potential.
“Why are you going so far?” Todoroki ground out.
“Because I want to live up to everyone’s expectations...I want to be able to smile...and respond to them...To be a cool hero...That’s what I want to be! That’s why—” Todoroki went still and Izuku managed to land a hit. “Everyone’s giving it their all! There’s no way I can know all of your circumstances, or your resolve. But for you to become number one without giving it your all, to completely reject your father...Right now, I think you should stop screwing around!...That’s why...I will win!” Izuku got another good hit in, and Todoroki went flying. “I’ll surpass you.”
Todoroki struggled to stand back up. “I will reject...my old man’s power…”
“It’s your power, isn’t it?!” Izuku cried.
Todoroki gasped. A beat passed as the words struck home, and then the stadium lit up in bright, breathtaking flames. Todoroki was using his left side, finally using his full strength, and Izuku couldn’t help but smile at the sight.
It was beautiful.
As they leapt at each other in a final, all-out attack, he heard his opponent say one last thing.
“Midoriya...thank you.”
So, Izuku came out of that fight with numerous broken bones, a scolding, and a new admiration for Todoroki Shouto.
Now that Todoroki was open to using his whole quirk, Izuku was determined to befriend him as well. He invited him to sit with him, Uraraka and Iida for lunch, study groups, and weekend outings. By the time 1A had moved into the dorms, Izuku had a firm friendship with Todoroki, that only increased with the more time they spent together.
It still took a number of weeks to figure out what the nervous, giddy feeling he got in his stomach whenever Todoroki was around was, though.
“Deku-kun,” Uraraka sighed in exasperation, after another afternoon of Izuku trying to figure out what the feeling meant. “You like him.”
Izuku blinked. “What?”
“You like him. You have a crush.”
His blushed. “No, I don’t!”
She gave him a sceptical look. “You do.”
Izuku continued to deny it, until the morning moment he was cramming for a test in the common room. No one was around, he’d stayed up all night, and the stress was starting to become too much. But before it could overtake him, someone appeared at his side. Izuku looked up to see Todoroki standing there, looking concerned.
“You need to take better care of yourself, Midoriya,” he said, pushing a mug of tea into Izuku’s hands.
There was a moment, as their fingers touched, lingered a little too long for simply passing a mug, that Izuku’s breath caught. The usual feeling he got in his stomach around Todoroki returned, magnified tenfold, and Izuku finally accepted that Uraraka was right.
When Todoroki went back to his room, Izuku fumbled with his phone to text her.
Izuku: omg I like todoroki-kun! Figsdfgoihsdfogp’dfbxlkcvb
Uraraka: CALLED IT.
Urakaka: Hagakure owes me money.
Izuku didn’t really know what to do with the fact that he had a crush on Todoroki. Hide it, sure, that was a given, but what else? Just wait for it to disappear?
The unfortunate thing was that it didn’t go away. Instead, it got stronger and stronger that calling it a crush sounded like a gross understatement. It was more than that. It was a word that Izuku was too scared to say out loud, but became increasingly apparent the more he and Todoroki spent time together.
Izuku didn’t confess, no matter how often Uraraka and Iida encouraged him to do so. Even when he merely thought of trying to do it, he would go red and start stuttering about whatever random topic came into his head at the time; he wouldn’t be able to make it through an actual confession.
He thought about what he wanted to say, though. He thought about how Todoroki was amazing and deserved to hear it. How he seemed to shine despite his difficult upbringing and Izuku just wanted to bask in his light. How Izuku would constantly drown in Todoroki’s eyes and had to force himself to look away. How his smiles, rare, fleeting and beautiful as they were, brightened Izuku’s day.
There were so many things he wanted to say, but Izuku simply pined in silence.
He had never acted on any of his crushes. In the past, he had admired from afar and that was it. While his self esteem was generally pretty good, Izuku knew that he would be rejected. He was the weird, hero obsessed, quirkless, disabled kid. Who would want him?
Izuku tried not to think like that. He tried to prove again and again that his labels didn’t define him, but a lifetime of stigmas took their toll on him, even if he didn’t want them to. Those thoughts only appeared on dark days, when his usually unending optimistic outlook was overcome by a bad mood he couldn’t shake.
On those days, Izuku generally liked to keep to himself. He knew he would cheer up eventually, and didn’t want to afflict his negativity on anyone else, so he would wander aimlessly in solitude. One such day led him to the roof of their dorm, and he sat and watched the sunset, feeling his sour mood drain away as the sky changed colour.
“Midoriya,” Todoroki’s voice spoke up from behind him.
Izuku froze at the sound, but didn’t turn to face him. Instead, he continued to stare out at the sunset as his crush sat down behind him. “Todoroki-kun,” he said, more subdued than his usual cheerful greeting.
“You’ve been gone for a while. Uraraka, Iida and I were starting to worry.”
“Sorry. I just...wanted to be alone for a bit.”
A beat passed. “Do you want me to leave?”
“No!” Izuku blurted out, finally turning to look at him. “No—I just—I was in a bad mood, and did want to bother anyone.”
“...Do you want to talk about it?”
What a question.
Did Izuku want to talk about it? Part of him wanted to open his mouth and unload everything onto Todoroki, but that was drowned out by the all-encompassing need not to burden anyone with his issues.
“No, I’m fine—I don’t want to be a bother.”
“Midoriya,” Todoroki said, voice as serious as ever. “I literally took you aside and told you all about my family issues. It’s only fair I listen to yours; you could never be a bother.”
Izuku’s breath caught and a blush burnt his cheeks. “I—thank you.”
“You don’t need to thank me, but you’re welcome.” Todoroki paused, his expression concerned. “So, what’s wrong?”
He sighed. “It’s just a bad day.”
Todoroki didn’t say a word, but just nodded for him to continue.
“I just—” Izuku struggled to find the right words. “Sometimes, with my legs, I get bad days. They ache for no reason other than the fact I’m disabled and nothing I can do will take the pain away. Those days add up, you know? They wear you down. I might have great self esteem most of the time and I’m optimistic, but even rock can be weathered down if the sea beats at it long enough.” He turned to look back out at the sunset. “Today is just a bad day, that’s all.”
Todoroki put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to be happy all of the time. You’re allowed bad days.”
“Am I? So many other people have it worse off than me. I can walk, Todoroki-kun, and not many people with cerebral palsy have that luxury. I shouldn’t be complaining.”
It was quiet for so long, Izuku was certain that he’d said too much and Todoroki was about to go running back inside. But instead, the hand at his shoulder squeezed gently, and then his friend came out with something Izuku was never going to forget.
“It’s your disability, isn’t it?” There was a warmth in Todoroki’s voice as he all but quoted Izuku back at himself. “You’re allowed to feel the way you do, even if there are others in worse situations. You don’t need to compare yourself to them.”
He gasped and turned to blink in stunned amazement at Todoroki. “Really?”
“Midoriya, you are one of the most remarkable people I have ever met. You’ve had more obstacles placed in front of you than most hero students ever have, yet you have overcome them all to chase your dream. You’re in pain everyday but you hide it so we don’t worry, you’ve turned the weakest part of your body into your strength with your Shoot Style, and you’re continuously one of the most studious and kind members of our class. You’re the living embodiment of Plus Ultra.”
Izuku’s eyes filled with tears. “Todoroki-kun…”
“And despite everything, you still think that your problems are inconsequential compared to others? Midoriya, there are some people out there that wouldn’t be able to cope with half the things you’ve been through. You have the right to complain about it if you want. Other people have done so for far less.”
“Being disabled isn’t an excuse to act like the world owes me something,” Izuku sniffed. “I don’t like to complain because I don’t really think I have anything to complain about. I don’t want to be treated differently, I don’t want pity, I just want to be treated like a person. That’s all disabled people are—we’re just people.”
Gently, and with a tad of hesitation, Todoroki wrapped an arm around Izuku’s shoulders and pulled him in for a one-sided hug. As Izuku melted against him, he said softly, “And people are allowed to have bad days.”
That proved too much for Izuku and he broke out in sobs. Throwing himself completely at Todoroki, he broke down in his arms and buried his face in his chest. After a moment, Todoroki’s arms came around him and rubbed soothing circles on his back. He didn’t say a word, but Todoroki didn’t need to; he was a silent, unwavering comfort, as Izuku finally gave into the tears he’d been holding off all day.
As he continued to weep, comforted in Todoroki’s warm embrace, Izuku finally accepted the way he felt about his classmate. He finally knew the extent of his feelings and didn’t shy away from the four letter word he’d been too afraid to even think of in the weeks before that moment.
Izuku was in love.
The roof became their special spot. Good or bay days, they would often find themselves up there together, quietly watching the sunset They did talk, of course, they would talk about anything, but the pair of them were also fans of comfortable silences.
It was during one such afternoon that Izuku finally managed to ask a question he’d been wanting to for weeks.
“Do you—do you want to go for lunch with me on Saturday?”
Todoroki turned to face him, haloed by the sunset, and smiled. “I’d like that.”
Izuku’s heart soared and he grinned, before turning to look back out at the view. Todoroki did the same, but not before gently, wordlessly, taking his hand. And if Izuku was then too distracted to focus on the setting sun, well, he couldn’t find it in himself to care.
Butterflies had permanent residence in his stomach on Saturday morning. He woke up early, too excited to sleep, and spent the whole time up until lunch flitting around his room in a state of eager nervousness.
He nearly jumped out of his skin when Todoroki knocked on his door around lunch time. His heart hammered in his chest, but he rushed to answer it, grinning widely.
“Todoroki-kun!”
He smiled. “Hello, Midoriya. Are you ready to go?”
“One sec!” Izuku darted away to grab his phone and wallet. “Alright, all good!”
Side by side, they walked out of the dorm, the U.A. grounds and into the city. They chatted as they made their way, happily debating which All Might uniform they liked best. It wasn’t until they neared the place they decided to eat at, that the afternoon took a turn for the worst.
They ran into Endeavour.
Out of all the routes they could have taken to get to the café for lunch, they had to go along the one where the Flame Hero had just defeated a villain. Endeavour was still around doing PR, giving interviews and taking pictures with excited fans.
Izuku gripped Todoroki’s hand and began pulling him in the opposite direction. “Nope!”
There was no way he was about to let Endeavour ruin their day. The piece of garbage would just start harping on about Todoroki misusing his quirk and not achieving the goal Endeavour had literally beat into him since birth.
Todoroki went willingly, clearly hoping to avoid his father. “Thanks, Midoriya.”
They nearly made it to the corner and out of sight when a loud, unwelcome voice yelled, “SHOUTO!”
The pair stopped and turned around in reluctant unison. Endeavour marched towards them, his eyes zeroed in on their joined hands and a scowl on his face.
“Old man,” Todoroki greeted, voice flat, as if resigned to the confrontation that was about to come.
“What are you doing?” Endeavour asked, glowering down at them.
“We’re going to lunch.”
“Surely you could find...” Endeavour paused as his eyes flicked over to Izuku. His judgemental gaze trailed up and down, lingering just a second too long on his legs, before returning to their hands. “...more suitable company?”
They stiffened. Izuku felt anger course through him, but Todoroki reacted first. He let go of Izuku’s hand to step protectively in front of him, as if to shield him from his father’s bigoted attitude.
“How dare you?” Todoroki hissed at him, looking seconds away from encasing his father in ice. “Midoriya is—”
“Todoroki-kun,” Izuku put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay.”
Todoroki turned to face him. “It’s not—”
“I’ve got this,” Izuku said, before narrowing his eyes at the Flame hero. “I don’t know what your problem is. Is it the fact I’ve got cerebral palsy, the fact we were holding hands, or are you just such a piece of garbage that you don’t want to see your son happy?”
Endeavour’s eyes flashed in anger. “You—”
“See, I’ve been discriminated against my whole life,” Izuku continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “There’s nothing you can say to me that I haven’t heard before. I’m disabled, so people think less of me, and in order to combat that, I need to think more of myself. I know what my self worth is, Endeavour, what’s yours?”
“I’m the number one hero.”
“Yeah, and you only made it to the top because All Might retired. You may think you’re the best, but you’re really so weak and cowardly that you forced your son to achieve the dream you never could. You beat him, hurt him, separated him from the rest of his family, and for what? A bit of recognition you don’t even deserve.”
“Midoriya,” Todoroki was tense at his side, but looking at him in shock.
“So, I might be what you think is unsuitable company, but I’m definitely worth more respect that you’ve just given me. I am more than my disability; it doesn’t define me. What makes a person are their choices and how they act.” Izuku took a moment to look the man scornfully up and down. “And your actions, Todoroki Enji, barely make you qualified for the title of hero.”
Adrenaline was coursing through him. His legs were shaking, and Izuku could hardly believe he was saying the things he was. He was running on righteous anger and he was sure that it would run out sooner or later, but he was determined to put Endeavour in his place before his courage disappeared.
“I have no idea how someone as incredible as Todoroki-kun can have you as a father. He’s kind, funny, understanding and literally everything you’re not. You might not approve of me, and I don’t care because I wasn’t looking for your approval anyway, but I love your son.” There was a strangled gasp from beside him, but he ignored it. “He’s so much better than you, and I will happily spend the rest of my life giving him the love and support he deserves.”
His heart was pounding in his chest, but Izuku acted on autopilot. Without thinking, he turned and gripped Todoroki by the front of his shirt. Ignoring his startled yelp, Izuku pulled him in for a sudden, hard kiss. Todoroki stiffened momentarily against him, before he melted into it and returned the gesture with equal enthusiasm.
Izuku could tell from the indignant noises and the sudden spike in heat, that Endeavour was furious at their display. But they were in public, and the Flame hero couldn’t do anything outrightly hostile to them without creating a PR nightmare, so Izuku simply enjoyed the kiss.
Todoroki’s lips were as soft as he had always imagined them to be. Izuku’s hand relaxed their firm grip on Todoroki’s shirt and found their place on his hips. The kiss lost it’s intensity as it went on, changing from a clumsy, firm embrace to prove a point, to something gentle. A sweet press of lips that blocked out the rest of the world and was the start of something beautiful.
Izuku’s cheeks flooded with colour the moment they pulled away from each other. He stared, a little dumbstruck and giddy at Todoroki, before remembering that his father was right there. Knowing he needed to end the conversation before it got any worse, he turned back to Endeavour.
He stared, flat and unimpressed. “The next time you judge someone, maybe look at yourself first.”
His piece said, Izuku bowed politely, took Todoroki’s hand, and towed him away. His bravado lasted until they turned a corner and were out of Endeavour’s line of sight. Once they were there, Izuku let go of Todoroki and curled in on himself, his hands resting on his knees while he tried to catch his breath and willed his heart to calm down.
“Midoriya?” Todoroki sounded concerned.
“I’m fine,” he said, a little dazed and breathless. “I’m fine. I just—I just did that.”
“Midoriya—”
“I can’t believe I just said all that.”
“Midoriya it’s fine—”
“I don’t think I can feel my legs.”
“Midoriya.”
“He’s not going to get mad at your for that, is he? Oh god, I’m so sorry—”
“Izuku!”
He blinked at the sudden change of address, finally pulled out of his thoughts. “Sh-Shouto-kun?”
Shouto helped him back into a standing position. A smile lit up his face and his eyes were filled with such affection, that it pushed aside any panicked thoughts Izuku had about Endeavour.
“That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen,” Shouto said, looking wonderstruck. “Please don’t apologise for that.” He reached out to gently push Izuku’s hair out of his eyes. His gaze roamed over Izuku’s face, as if committing it to memory. “You don’t ever have to apologise for standing up for yourself.”
“But I—”
“Did you mean it?”
Izuku tilted his head in confusion. “Mean what?”
“You said you love me.”
“Oh!” Izuku blushed, but would never deny it. “Of course I meant—mfft!”
Todoroki cut him off with his lips, pulling him close and kissing him deeply. A beat passed before Izuku’s brain rebooted, and he wrapped his arms around Todoroki’s neck, barely able to kiss back properly because he kept smiling.
“I love you, too,” Todoroki said as they pulled apart for air.
Their faces were inches away from each other, and they should have been worried about such a public display of affection, or the people whose paths they were blocking as they stood lost in each other’s embrace. But neither of them could bring themselves to pull away, or care about the world around them.
No, all men were not created equal. But Izuku was lucky enough to find someone who treated him as an equal regardless. Shouto, their friends, their teachers, his mother—they all treated Izuku like he was normal; like he was the same as them.
As they leant in again, Izuku felt like he was drowning in love and acceptance. He laughed delightedly as his lips reached for Shouto’s again and again.
It was perfect, and it was amazing.