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Bruises. A bruise is the typical result of a blow to the skin that causes capillaries, or tiny blood vessels that can be found near the surface of your skin, to break. Broken capillaries leak blood in the surrounding tissues, which causes tenderness and discoloration under your skin.
Inko looked at herself in the bathroom mirror and tenderly touched her cheek.
Within a day or so of impact, your bruise will darken to blue or purple. This is caused by both low oxygen supplies and swelling at the bruising site.
She gave a slight sniff, and drew in a calming breath, before turning on the faucet and running a washcloth under the stream of water.
Wash and cleanse your face. Effectively hiding or concealing bruises and discoloration begins with a clean face.
Inko scrubbed as thoroughly as she could, but even the gentlest of presses to the area around her eye and the upper portion of her right cheek caused her to wince. It would be okay though; she could do this. She was fine. She just needed to keep going.
She then reached for her makeup bag and rummaged a little, mentally reciting the instructions she had researched just a while ago. After a bit of looking, she managed to find her concealer.
Yellow tinted concealer is used with purple or bluish bruises.
Applying it to the area was slow, painstaking, and then she had to cover the rest of her face so that everything would look the same color. Next came powdered foundation to even out her skin tone and hopefully make things look more natural. Then there was blush, lip balm, mascara, and everything else she would normally wear. After a few minutes she finally stepped back to look at her handiwork.
A close trained eye might have noticed that she had a bit more caked on than usual, but she doubted that anyone they would see today would care. At the very least, Izuku probably wouldn’t notice.
Inko sighed and folded her hands together before pressing them to her abdomen, doing what she could to steady herself, breathing deeply in, and then out…
Only to nearly jump out of her skin when the front door abruptly opened and then slammed shut.
“Inko?”
The breath she’d been holding left her all at once and a chill licked down her spine. Though her hands trembled, she did her best to keep her voice level as she called, “Coming!”
She left their bathroom and walked through the bedroom, ignoring the small dent in the wall. She’d have to worry about fixing that at a later time. Inko made her way to the hall and Hisashi was there by the door, still wearing his shoes, with some flowers in his hands.
“We need to hurry and go,” he told her. “But first, I got you these.”
Slowly, she stepped toward him and took the offered flowers. They were much nicer than the standard red roses he sent her every year for Valentine’s and her birthday — no, these had much more variety, with many shades of yellow, pink, orange, and white. It almost looked festive.
“They’re lovely,” she murmured, speaking the truth. “You didn’t have to–”
“I know,” he interrupted, stepping toward her. “But I felt bad about last night. The whole thing got way out of hand, and that’s my fault.”
“It’s okay,” she said automatically, not meeting his gaze. She was looking at the flowers when suddenly arms were wrapping around her and giving her a hug. She could smell the cologne he always wore and the gel in his hair, mixed with the coffee he drank.
“I’m sorry honey,” she heard him say. “Forgive me?”
Inko blinked in surprise at the question.
“I...yes.”
“That’s my girl,” he said, before pulling back to press a kiss to her temple. “Why don’t you go put those in some water and then we’ll head out?”
Inko nodded mechanically before turning to go do just that. It was strange...when had he ever called her ‘his girl’ before? And that hug...when was the last time they'd hugged…?
It seemed that he was of the same mind — that last night had been different from their usual fights. And now he was doing what he could to make up for it, as opposed to his usual attitude of going to bed and waking up the next morning as if nothing had ever happened. This, the flowers, the hug, this was... something. Certainly better than usual.
Wasn’t it?
The waiting room was packed full of parents who were talking, laughing, and munching on refreshments as they waited to be called. Inko had found a seat at a table in the corner and had her hands folded neatly in her lap, watching everyone.
She got the sense that she should be mingling, talking to people, bragging about her son; but right now she just didn’t feel that she could. Despite the smile that she wore, there was something weighing heavily on her and it felt bleak, as if everything was cast in shades of grey. As if she was hiding something, and she couldn’t let other people see.
But you are, aren’t you?
No, no, no. Mingling wouldn’t do right now — the table was much safer, sitting was much more comfortable.
“It was nice of them to give us snacks,” Hisashi commented as he sat down next to her, and Inko was proud of herself for only jumping an inch or two when he startled her this time. He had gotten himself a delicious looking slice of cake.
“Oh, here, I got you this,” he added, setting a little styrofoam plate in front of her. The plate had a single, oatmeal raisin cookie on it.
“Thank you,” she said, drawing the plate toward her.
“No problem. They sure are taking their time calling us back,” her husband huffed as he began digging into his cake. “Say, where’s Izuku anyway? I’ve been home, what, two days now, and I still haven’t seen the kid.”
Inko was wondering the same. Other students had already come to the waiting area to sit with their parents — she spotted Katsuki right away, along with Izuku’s friends, young Iida and Uraraka. But so far, her own son hadn’t appeared.
And now that she thought about it, she had a suspicion as to why.
The door to the waiting area opened and a teacher that Inko recognized as Izuku's homeroom teacher, Eraserhead, stepped in holding a clipboard and called, “Bakugous.”
“Come on, kid!” Inko watched Mitsuki Bakugou pass by their table, dragging her son along by the ear while her husband followed after. Katsuki grumbled and tried to pull himself away from his mom, only succeeding in bumping into Izuku, who was on his way into the room. The fiery teen growled as he was dragged off and Izuku felt a twinge of pity for his classmate.
He looked around the waiting area and waved to his friends, before spotting his parents in the corner. A frown crossed Izuku’s face at the sight of his father, but he tried to hold it back as he went over to join them.
“Hi,” he greeted them, sitting down next to his mother so he could lean over and give her a hug.
“Hello baby!” Inko hugged her son close, doing her best not to wince when their cheeks touched. "I've missed you so much!"
“Hey kiddo.” Hisashi greeted his son by reaching around and ruffling his curls, an action which had Izuku cringing away from him.
“Dad, stop!”
“What? Your hair’s already a rat’s nest, it’s not like I can make it any worse.”
Izuku grumbled as he tried to put his hair back into its usual (still rather messy) order. Inko gave him an apologetic smile as Hisashi left to go get punch.
“He’s just teasing,” she assured him gently, reaching to put one of his locks back into place. “He has the same curls, you know. He just uses product to slick it down.”
“Yeah I know,” Izuku grunted. “He stinks of the stuff.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“It’s gross!”
Inko decided not to argue the point (partially because she agreed), and Izuku finally gave up on his hair and dropped his hands to the table with an annoyed huff. “I can’t believe he actually came to this. I wish they’d done the home visits instead of having the parents come here — then at least he’d just be embarrassing us in front of the teachers, instead of the teachers and my friends.”
“Izuku!” Inko motioned for him to hush. “That’s no way to talk about your father.”
“What do you want from me?” he asked, uncharacteristically grumpy. “He’s never around, and when he is he’s a jerk. “
It was then that Izuku noticed the untouched cookie sitting on the plate in front of his mother. He frowned and curled his lip at the sight.
“He got that for you didn’t he?”
“Oh, yes, he did. How did you know?”
“Don’t oatmeal raisin cookies have cinnamon in them?”
“Well, yes.”
“Cinnamon, which you’re deathly allergic to?”
“...Well-”
“Mom!”
“He meant well! He just forgot.”
“And nearly killed you.” Izuku picked up the cookie and hurled it into a nearby trash can. He then sighed and looked at his mother with a tired expression.
“Why are you always defending him?”
Because I have to.
“Because he’s my husband, and your father, and we love him.”
Izuku shook his head. “I don’t.”
Inko swallowed and rested a hand on her son’s arm, giving a slight squeeze.
“Midoriyas.”
At Eraserhead’s call, the two stood and walked close together, slowing just long enough for Hisashi to join them. The meeting itself was between the three of them, Eraserhead, All Might, and Principal Nezu. It was technically a basic parent-teacher meeting, but because the students’ first year was drawing to a close and security was relaxing a bit, UA had decided to hold the meeting in a more formal setting rather than simply making house calls.
That and, Izuku was the sort of student that required quite a bit of discussion.
“I’m sorry, he’s snuck out of the dorms how many times?”
“Twenty-seven,” Aizawa read from his clipboard. “Only one incident involved a major rule violation; the rest were miscellaneous. Forgot things in the classroom or on the track and went to retrieve them; oh and Truth or Dare has gotten rather popular among the students, which I believe is why during one of those times he was found in just his boxers.”
Hisashi turned toward his son with a look of disbelief. “What’s wrong with you??”
Izuku rolled his eyes and looked away. Inko patted his knee, and did her very best not to laugh at the story. Or to make eye contact with All Might.
She could feel his gaze on her though, those intense blue eyes that could freeze a villain in their tracks, or pierce right through you. No doubt he had noticed by now that she was trying to avoid his attention. She only hoped that she could make it through the rest of the meeting without properly looking at him.
Because right now, if she did look at him, she felt like she might very well lose hold of whatever it was she was trying to grasp onto.
At the moment, he was speaking to Hisashi. “It’s true, Izuku has a tendency to disobey the rules. However, what violations he does commit are usually either harmless, or else unintentional. Your son is very driven and passionate about helping others, and its that determination which is usually behind his rule violations, as opposed to any sort of willful maliciousness.”
At those words, Inko felt a swell of pride grow in her chest for her baby, and she gave him a fitting smile.
“It doesn’t really excuse him for continuously causing problems,” Aizawa interjected, causing Inko’s smile to shrink somewhat. “As helpful as his intentions may be.”
“Well, that we can agree on.”
Inko leaned forward so she could look at Hisashi where he was sitting on the other side of their son. “What?”
Her husband shrugged at her. “Sounds like a basic attitude problem to me.”
“I don’t have a problem,” Izuku grumbled.
“That tone of yours says otherwise.”
Inko saw her son’s fists clench in his lap, and felt the tension in the room raise significantly.
“Let’s just calm down a bit,” she said gently, putting a hand on Izuku’s shoulder. “I think we can agree that following the rules is important, yes, but these things also work on sort of a case by case basis, don’t they?”
“Agreed,” Principal Nezu spoke up. “Which is why we haven’t taken more drastic action in the matter. Should it continue or worsen we might reconsider our approach, but for now–”
“Aren’t you being a bit soft on him?”
Inko was glad she wasn’t sitting next to Hisashi, as right now she felt compelled to pinch him and that would have only made things worse. She cleared her throat and said, “Dear–”
“No,” he interrupted her. “I swear, all I ever hear is that something bad has happened with you.” Hisashi turned towards his son as he said, “First you keep breaking your bones, then there’s that mess that happened at the mall, then the camp, now all of this breaking out to...to do what? Goof off with your friends?”
Izuku’s jaw tightened. “I am doing other things too. I got to the final rounds of the Sports Festival. I got my provisional license, and an internship. I’ve even saved a few people. But you wouldn’t know about that would you?”
Sitting across from the family, All Might himself tensed at the tone in young Izuku’s voice. Ever since the family had come in, there’d been some unspoken tension between the three, and it was sparking the loudest with the boy. Meanwhile Inko seemed to be trying to pacify the other two, but the strained and slightly desperate expression on her face had him worried.
“Izuku…” she said softly.
“No, Mom!” He turned toward her fully as he said, “I’m sick of it!”
The green-haired youth then turned to his father and snapped, “Maybe you’d know more about my life if you bothered to come home once in a while!”
There was a brief, awkward pause where the adults in the room blinked in surprise, wondering what the right course of action was in this matter.
Then Hisashi snapped.
“And just where do you get off talking to me like that?” He sat up to his full height and glared down at his son. “I’m overseas making a living so that you and your mother can live comfortably! Or do you not enjoy having a roof over your head?”
“Oh, okay, so that excuses the fact that you never call us, or even answer when mom calls you? She tried to call you six times to tell you I had a quirk and you never answered!”
The man bared his teeth in a grimace, before turning his attention onto his wife. “Inko, what’s this about?”
“It’s nothing!” she quickly assured him. “Nothing, nothing. I know you were busy, it’s fine.”
“They why did you bother gossiping to our son about it?”
“Huh? Oh, oh no, I didn’t! He must have just heard me making the calls and-”
“And I think you’re a titanic asshole.”
That did it.
Any hope of re-railing the conversation and getting them out of there in a reasonable fashion went out the window as Izuku and Hisashi were suddenly on their feet shouting at each other. Aizawa jumped up as well to try and separate them, looking like he was two seconds away from using his capture weapon, while All Might and Nezu both sat on edge. Meanwhile, Inko could only sit and watch and listen as the two went at it, looking ready to bite each other’s heads off.
And then she made a mistake. She looked around in desperation and locked eyes with All Might. And there they were, bright and blue and filled with concern for her, and she suddenly felt as if she was under a microscope and just wanted all of this to be over.
“You two,” she said as she rose to her feet, “need to calm down!”
They ignored her, talking over her, not making eye contact as they continued to yell and suddenly it was just. Too. Much.
“WOULD YOU TWO JUST STOP IT?!”
Her yell effectively silenced them, and then everyone was staring at her, and all of those eyes, her high stress levels, the side of her face aching underneath all of the makeup…
It was too much.
Tears were already slipping from the corners of her eyes as she turned and rushed out of the conference room, in search of the nearest restroom. She needed to stop crying, to dry her tears and maybe touch up her makeup if it had run, she needed to...she needed…
Her crying got worse as she reached the stairwell and her feet slowed as she leaned heavily against the wall, trying to hold onto...something. Anything. Anything that could keep her going.
“Midoriya-san?”
She jumped, but this time she was more startled than frightened, as the voice that spoke her name was deep and gentle and filled with care. She turned to see that Tosh- that ALL MIGHT, had followed her to the stairs.
“Are you alright?” he asked, stepping closer to her.
It wasn’t the first time they had been alone together — far from it. But it was the first time they’d been alone in a desolate hallway where anyone could walk in on them and see them together, and see the color she got in her cheeks when she spoke with him, and hear the informal way they spoke to each other and –
She interrupted her own thoughts by turning and going down a stair or two, only for a large hand to rest on her shoulder.
“Inko-san?”
And there was her name on his lips. Gods, they were in public, this all felt so wrong now, no wonder he’d been so angry when she told him.
“Let go,” she said weakly, as she moved further away.
His hand immediately lifted. “Forgive me,” he said quickly. “I wasn’t trying to invade your space, I swear. I’m just concerned. You seemed...a bit uneasy, even before the arguing began.”
She gave a small shrug. “That’s just how it is these days between them. Izuku hates him. Not that I can blame him, really... And Hisashi can never seem to do anything but complain. Especially about Izuku.”
Inko gave a bitter laugh and instinctively went to wipe her eyes, only to flinch and let out a sound of pain when she rubbed her tender skin.
Toshinori noticed this immediately, instincts honed over the years to notice injuries so that he could properly carry and care for the civilians he rescued. He moved to stand next to her and put his hand on her shoulder once more.
“Inko, are you all-”
She turned up to look at him, and her makeup had smeared, and beneath the layers of foundation and concealer bloomed the distinct blue and violet colors of a black eye. The bruise extended down to the top portion of her cheek, and looked to be fairly recent. It had to have happened within the last day or so.
Toshinori’s mind raced. The black eye, how quiet she’d been, the way the father loomed over the two of them and angered easily, even openly fighting with Izuku, and interrupting his wife without a second thought…
Within seconds it clicked, and Inko watched the concern and compassion drain from his eyes, quickly replaced by a type of sheer, undeniable rage that she had never seen in another human being. Then he turned and started up the stairs and based on his determined gait she knew just what he was going to do.
“No!”
She cried out and grabbed onto his wrist, making him pause halfway up the stairs.
“It was an accident,” she choked out from between her tears. “Just an accident, you don’t need to...to…”
Inko trailed off, unsure of how to explain, and he turned to her once more. He seemed to be trying to contain his anger, likely not wanting to scare her, but he still looked more than ready to kill.
“Inko,” he said, in a low dangerous tone. “I understand what you’re going through is hard, but listen to me when I say this: don’t you dare try to lie for him. Don’t you let him get away with this.”
“I’m not!” she assured him. “Really! I-It was just a misunderstanding. Y-You see, last night, he was complaining again about Izuku and I remembered how much our little one-on-one meetings helped me to feel more comfortable with the whole situation, and I thought maybe the same would work for him! S-So, I told him. About our meetings, and how sometimes we would go to tea shops or something, and...and he asked how long it had been going on. So I told him. And he asked if the neighbors had seen us, if I was lying to him, if...if there was anything else going on. Isn’t that silly?”
No, he did not think that was silly. And clearly neither did she, as she was still crying despite her best efforts not to.
“Of course it’s silly!” she continued. “Nothing like that has ever happened between us! It never would! I mean, the two of us...it hasn’t even crossed my mind!”
That last part was a lie, and they both knew it.
“But he had already misunderstood and even when I got him to understand that we hadn’t...well, he was still mad that I didn’t tell him sooner or get his permission, and then he started yelling about how I never tell him anything that goes on at home. Which, I mean, isn’t true, I call and text him all the time, he just doesn’t answer. He hardly ever answers anymore.”
She was talking faster now, starting to lose her breath.
“And then he just kept yelling! Which, I mean, is normal for him.”
“Is striking you also normal for him?”
Inko saw his large hand form a fist and it felt strange to see someone with such power and influence feel so strongly over the matter — over her safety. Strange, and wrong, because people weren’t supposed to know, because things were unraveling and she was scared but seeing someone so protective, seeing him so protective…
“N-No,” she managed to answer. “He never hits me. He didn’t even hit me this time!”
“Inko–”
“I mean it!” she interrupted. “He didn’t! It wasn’t him. It was a. A clock.”
Toshinori blinked at her.
“A clock hit you?”
“Yes. Well. It hit me after he threw it.”
“He threw a clock at you??”
“NO! N-No! Not at me! He just threw it. He throws things and breaks them sometimes when he’s mad, and this time I was in the wrong spot when he threw my little nightstand clock. You know those ones, they’re the old analog ones, and they’re sort of ornamental because they run out of battery so fast and you keep thinking you need to put in new ones but you always forget and so it just sits there and sits there and sits there until. Until one night your husband throws it across the room while yelling that you’re a moron.”
She was struggling, about to collapse, and then he was there, bending and folding his long, lanky body to pull her into what he hoped was a comforting embrace. Inko accepted it without trying to push him away, and by now her tears were coming in full force.
“He bought me flowers,” she sobbed. “Today. To try to make up for it. He’s never done that before. He must feel really bad.”
“Inko.”
“And he called me his girl.”
“Inko...you see what you’re doing, don’t you?”
Another shaking sob.
“I know. I know, I know, I know. I just don’t know how to stop. I was always told I had to do what my husband wanted, to be the peacemaker in the family, and I’m just so used to it and I’ve tried so hard to keep us all together but now I don’t even know what I’m trying for anymore!”
She gasped and sobbed and was probably messing up his shirt but neither of them gave a single damn about that right now. At least Toshinori didn’t. He was busy carefully reminding himself that murder was wrong, even if the other person truly, truly, deserved it.
“I wanted to tell you,” she whispered. “I just didn’t know how. I was scared.”
“Of what?”
“Of...of you seeing this side of me. How weak and stupid I am.”
“Inko.”
He pulled her back a moment and rested a hand alongside her face, careful to avoid the injured area. His voice was solemn, sincere, as he said, “This does not make you weak. It does not make you stupid. You are a strong person, Inko Midoriya.”
“No I’m not,” she whimpered.
“You are. Look how long you’ve lasted. Look at your son, how well you’ve raised him. That’s all your doing, Inko.”
At that, she sniffed, memories of Izuku's childhood flooing back to her. “I did my best to keep the worst of it away from him. Whenever Hisashi started getting angry, I’d send him off to go watch some of your old videos. It kept him distracted and happy and I was able to deal with the dragon without worrying about him.”
She gave a small, tired laugh then.
“It’s funny; he probably spent more time with you and your recordings than he ever did with his father. I know he’s certainly learned more from you.”
“I do what I can,” he murmured.
“You do very well, sir.”
The two were quiet for a moment, and Inko’s crying had lightened up somewhat, but tears still rolled silently down her cheeks.
“What now?”
“Now, we get you some help. Money, lawyers, whatever it takes, I’ll be here for you.”
“...why?”
“...because Izuku matters to me. Because you matter to me.”
“Mmm.”
Using a handkerchief, she gently dabbed at her wet eyes as she said, “It’s sad. I tried to keep the family together only for there not to be much to keep together.”
“There’s you and Izuku. A family can be just two people.”
“Yeah...you’re right.”
It occurred to both of them that three people could also be a family...but it was a bit soon to say such a thing out loud.
For now, Inko rested her head on Toshinori’s shoulder, and allowed him to hold her in his firm embrace. For the first time in quite a while, she breathed just a bit easier, steadied by his touch, the burning on her cheek cooling with long awaited tears. The grey was still there, but now she knew it could lighten a bit. And perhaps even the colors could come back.