Chapter Text
Tenko felt like he was about to cough up a lung, leaning against a damp alley wall and clutching at his throat as he hacked up ash. Dust, dust that came from...
His eyes widened, vermillion irises swallowing his pupils until they were tiny pinpricks of darkness as he emptied his stomach onto the floor for the second time that day. Tenko wiped the thick, ashen red fluid from the corner of his mouth and looked up, desperate to keep himself from seeing the contents of what he just threw up. The last time it happened he swore he saw-
Tenko gagged, and decided not to revisit the memory.
He straightened his shirt, wheezed a few deep, heavy breaths, and stepped back out onto the street. It was late at night but there was a crowd, all standing around and staring in shock at the remains of Tenko’s house. He saw people in special suits carrying sealed bags of ash out of the front gate, and wondered which of his family members it was. How many of their pieces had become too mixed together to differentiate as they all collapsed to dust in the same place as the last.
He tried to get a woman’s attention—without touching her, of course—but she was too busy taking photos of his house to look down at him. He saw a girl his age and tried to ask her for help, but his voice was barely there and rasped in his throat, and the girl hid behind her dad’s legs. He jumped and waved and nudged and tried his best to smile, but barely any looked down at him, and the ones that did either recoiled in disgust or shoved him away frustratedly. Tenko felt like he was going to cry, but he held it in. Crying just made his dad angrier, it would probably make the other adults angrier too.
Tenko retreated to a different alley, this one seeming colder and darker than the last, but at least it didn’t have the ashen, bloody puddle in one corner. He pressed his back against the wall and slowly sunk down it, sitting with a thump and feeling his shorts get wet as they soaked up the water and god knew what else that dampened the floor. At least he’d had the sense not to touch his clothes. Tenko’s fingers scrabbled for purchase on the weak weeds poking through the alley grout, and grabbed onto them hard. The feeling of the drab plants crumbling between his fingers made him feel better for a moment, before the fear and guilt washed over him tenfold.
Tenko wasn’t stupid. He knew that he shouldn’t like breaking the grass, he knew that he shouldn’t have smiled when he reached for his father’s face and yet...
Tenko was cold. So, so cold. Dry hands pulled his knees to his chest and he shuddered to himself in a grimy corner of an alley, somewhere in Musutafu. He’d been alone for a day, it had been a whole day since he... since he felt his family crumble beneath his fingertips. Tenko clenched his eyes closed tightly, hoping that maybe if he just tried hard enough, he’d be able to go to sleep. Anything would be better than being awake, lying on cold, damp brick and thinking about...
Tenko let out a soft whimper and tucked his face further between his knees. His hands clenched tighter at his sides, and he felt tears begin brimming in his eyes.
Maybe if he wished hard enough, his stupid quirk will kill him like it killed his family.
With the memory of his dog’s soft fur becoming wet and clumped with blood, the feeling of his fingers twined with dust, Tenko drifted into fitful slumber.
= = =
Midoriya Inko walked quickly down the street, pushing her son in a stroller. She struggled with the plastic bags in her hands as she tried to keep the old stroller moving straight, earning her pitying looks from passers by. They probably thought she was some kind of abandoned, irresponsible teen mother or something, she knew her facial structure made her seem younger than she was. She hooked her shopping bags over the handles of the stroller and powered forward, her son cooing excitedly as they streamed past shiny storefronts and interesting people.
In hindsight she probably should’ve been going a little slower, because when the stroller dipped into a crack in the sidewalk, the momentum made the handle of one of her bags snap from its own weight. Inko watched tiredly as her groceries fell to the floor and tumbled into the street, too exhausted to react as she usually would. She flicked the stopper on her stroller and set about using her quirk to pull everything back to her, putting it back into the bag as neatly as she could and resolving to just carry the torn plastic in her hand.
Just as she was about to start moving forward again, she heard Izuku let out a whimper. She leaned forward to check on him, and saw a pudgy baby finger pointed out into the alley beside them. Reaching down to ruffle his short curls comfortingly, she kept her eyes on the alley. It had been less than a year since Izuku was born, and he was already incredibly perceptive, she knew better than to ignore him specifically pointing something out. Expecting the worst, Inko pulled out her phone and turned on the torch, shining it into the alley to see...
A boy. Maybe four or five years old, curled up and clearly dehydrated. Inko nearly jumped in shock when the boy looked up, red eyes sunken and surrounded with black shadows. His eyes widened as the alley lit up and the boy shuffled back into the shadows, but Inko had already seen enough. She was a new mother, and even if she wasn’t, she could never just leave a child in an alley.
“Hey, are you okay? What’s your name?” The boy looked terrified as she inched closer, making intense eye contact as his pale blue hair fell over his face. His skin was dry, scarred and cracked, and the young boy was sporting a nasty split lip that made Inko fear the worst for him. Where were his parents?
“It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you sweetheart.” She stepped closer and bent down onto her knees, trying to appear non-threatening.
“Where are your parents?” The boy flinched, and Inko felt a tug at her heart when tears sprang to his eyes. She looked back to Izuku quickly, watching the baby reach out toward them. She grabbed the stroller and pulled it closer to her.
“I... Mom...” he choked out, and the sight made Inko start tearing up too.
“It’s alright, you’re okay. Can you tell me your name?” The boy seemed to frown, clearly remembering the warnings about strangers he’s no doubt been given. His eyes drift to the baby by Inko’s side, then back to her.
“Uh... Shimura... Te-Ten-Tenko.” He stuttered out, voice raspy and uneven, but Inko nodded. Shimura, where had she heard that name before? She pouted, unsure what to do next, then tried to reach toward the boy. He flinched again, and Inko pulled her hand back to her side immediately. She sat back on her heels and kept her hands screwed in the fabric of her skirt.
“Are you hungry?” She asked tentatively, unsure what she was supposed to do. She hadn’t been a mother for long, and had virtually no experience with children outside of her own and Mitsuki’s son. The boy nodded tentatively, and she figured that was a good place to start.
“Right! Well, do you want to come with me and- or, no, you probably got told not to go anywhere with strangers, right?” The boy nodded, and she smiled softly. She hoped it was reassuring.
“Well, I’m Midoriya Inko. That’s my son, Izuku. Would you like to say hello to him?” The boy looked back over to the stroller, where Izuku was making grabby hands toward them, then he looked down at his hands. He clenched his hands into fists, and then crossed his arms, tucking his hands under his armpits tightly.
“No.” He said quietly, almost regretfully, and Inko frowned for a second.
“That’s okay, you don’t have to. Would you like food?” His gaze whipped back up to hers and he nodded, and Inko smiled as she reached back to her shopping bag. She dug through it and eventually found a small packet of chips she had planned to put out when the Bakugou’s came to visit. This was definitely more important.
“Here you go.” He reached forward to take the bag, then his eyes widened and he pulled back.
“Are you okay?” The boy looked on he verge of tears, clenching his hands to his chest and then throwing them to his sides with a huff.
“I... I can’t... tou-touch it.” Inko frowned, the pieces slowly coming together in the back of her mind. His surname was bugging her, swinging back and forth through her thoughts as she tried to make a connection she didn’t understand. Something was terribly wrong here. She looked around the alley and picked up a rock.
“Can you touch this?” She asked, holding it toward him. He pouted, then held his hand out, and she dropped it into his cupped palms. The second his fingers closed over it, it crumbled to dust. Oh.
Oh.
No family to be seen, a quirk that turned things to dust, that name...
She knew this kid. Well, she knew what had happened, she’d seen the story of the crumbled house that used to be home to a family of six, and she had promptly shut it off. She tried to stop the realisation from showing on her face, but then the boy’s eyes widened. It seemed he too was scarily perceptive.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t—I didn’t mean to! It just happened and I...“ he trailed off as his voice became too weak to make it out of his throat, and his hands came up to the sides of his face, twisting into his hair and digging into his dry skin, scratching as his eyes clenched shut and his posture hunched and-
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Look at me, Tenko.” The boy’s hands slowly left his hair, and he cracked an eye open.
“It isn’t your fault, Tenko. I’m just glad you’re okay.” She reached behind her and grabbed the bag of chips, opening it and pulling one out. She held it toward the boy, who averted his eyes in embarrassment before leaning forward and biting it. As he chewed, Inko had an idea.
“What if we get you gloves? Do you think you could wear gloves?” The boy frowned, and Inko’s expression brightened.
“Okay, wait here. I’ll be right back.” She left the bag of chips with him as she grabbed Izuku’s stroller, the boy babbling quietly to himself as she powered toward the nearest convenience store.
She bought the smallest pair of rubber gloves she could find, and then rushed back out to him. She handed him the gloves, and he held them balanced awkwardly in the middle of his palms.
“Hm, okay, let me just...” she grabbed the gloves and tried to stretch them over his hand, but the second he started slipping his fingers into it, it started to turn to dust. Inko dropped it quickly, and the glove crumbled around the boy’s hand.
Inko frowned, considering for a moment.
“Okay, well, how about this. Touch this with one finger.” She held up the second glove and stretched it into a flat surface. The boy hesitated, and she smiled reassuringly.
“Don’t worry. If it starts breaking, I’ll drop it.” He seemed to relax slightly at that, and reached forward. With one finger extended, the boy flinched back as he made contact, expecting it to crumble, but it didn’t. Inko felt excitement building in her chest.
“Okay, try two.” Tenko touched the glove with two fingers, then three, then four, and it remained in tact. Then he pressed all five fingertips to it, and it crumbled away quietly. Tenko seemed to retract in on himself, but Inko smiled brightly.
“That’s good! That means you need all five fingers for it to work. I have an idea!” She rushed back to the store and bought another pair of gloves and a pair of scissors, the cashier looking at her and her baby weirdly as he checked out their items.
She opened the containers as she rushed across the street, dropping back to her knees and probably skinning them at her eagerness to get back to Tenko’s side.
“Okay, let’s try this.” She grabbed a glove and the scissors and cut off the corner, removing the index and middle finger parts from the glove. Then, she stretched it wide and held the hole open.
“Keep the rest of your fingers in a fist, and put your two fingers through here.” The boy’s crimson eyes brightened as he realised what was happening, and he carefully slipped his fingers through the gap.
“Okay, now put the rest on normally.” The boy unfolded his hand and slipped the rest of his fingers into the corresponding glove parts, and once they were in Inko softly returned the wrist of the glove to his hands. The boy flexed his fingers once, then Inko picked up a rock.
“Grab this.”
She held it out to him, and with a shaky hand he reached forward and took it in all five fingers. Nothing happened. Inko laughed breathlessly and quickly picked up the other glove, cutting off the same two fingers and repeating the process on the boy’s left hand. When both gloves were on, Inko handed him the bag of chips. The boy looked at her uncertainly, then after a nod from Inko he started eating. It was clear he hadn’t had anything for a while.
After a minute, in which Inko left him to his business to try and restore some calm to Izuku, he cleared his throat quietly.
“Ah... thank you... Mi- Mid- Midoriya-san.” She smiled brightly and reached forward, intending to take his hand. He flinched back, so Inko let it be.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. How about you come with me?” Tenko furrowed his eyebrows at that, once again looking her over as he picked at the gloves on his hands. The boy clearly didn’t trust her, and Inko sighed. Obviously there was far more going on than the brief section of the news coverage had told her.
“Hm. How old are you, Tenko?”
“Um... five.” Inko’s eyes brightened, and she coaxed him forward slightly.
“Really? When’s your birthday?” She said in a mock whisper, and the corner of Tenko’s mouth twitched up.
“Uh, April... fffourth.” She gasped at the answer and leant down until they were nearly eye level.
“That was pretty recent, wasn’t it?” She responded, and he gave her a small nod.
“Well, my birthday is July fourth, so we’re kinda similar!” She said, and this made Tenko brighten.
“When’s his birthday?” He asked tentatively, his voice slightly clearer, as he pointed to Izuku where he sat quietly in his stroller. The baby boy had one hand in his mouth as he watched the other intently, slowly and carefully articulating his little baby fingers. Inko’s heart warmed, and she turned back to the other boy.
“His is July fifteenth. So we’re all sort of connected, aren’t we? Our birthdays are on the same day, and Izuku’s birthday is in the same month as mine.” She said, and Tenko nodded, red eyes brightening. It almost reminded her of Katuski, those eyes of his. He seemed to have taken her little birthday connection tangent to heart, and Inko was immensely grateful. Interesting, cute little bits of information and theory like that were her specialty.
“Okay, Tenko. Do you want to come with me? I think we need to go to the police.” Tenko froze, and when he met Inko’s eyes she could practically see him trying to figure out a way to escape.
“You aren’t in trouble! It’s just, well, nobody knows you’re here, sweetheart. Do you have any other family that lives nearby?” Tenko frowned, then shook his head. Okay, that’s fine.
“Well, we need to go to a police station and call you in, so that they can organise a family member or someone to look after you.” She explained slowly, softly, internally cringing as Tenko’s expression dropped. He looked at her, at Izuku, down at his half-gloved hands, and then he nodded, gaze still down to the ground.
“Okay, come on.” She reached forward and this time Tenko tentatively took her hand, the rubber gloves squeaking quietly against Inko’s sweaty palms. They stepped out onto the street and Inko pulled a 180 from the direction she had originally been going, turning around and heading toward the police station.
Finally they arrived, and Inko pushed the stroller one handed into the building, Tenko holding her other hand and trailing behind.
The receptionist was a young woman, possibly around the same age as Inko, and her expression brightened at the sight of Izuku.
“Aw, what a cutie. What’s his name?” She leaned over the desk to look down at Izuku, who smiled and started babbling nonsense to her.
“Izuku, he’s a year old in a couple of months.” Inko supplied easily, and the woman cooed.
“What a cutie! You’re a little cutie, aren’t you?” Her tone shifted to what seemed to be universally regarded as baby-talk, and Izuku clapped at her.
“Anyways, what can I do ya for, miss?” The woman said, directing her gaze back to Inko.
“Um, I found this boy alone in an alley a few streets down.” At his mention, Tenko stepped out from behind Inko’s legs, waving a half-gloved hand nervously. Inko saw the woman’s expression shift from shock to disgust to guilt within a second, before settling on the classic ‘concerned customer service’ face. If there was one thing that Inko had come to understand about the little boy, however, it was that he absolutely wouldn’t have missed those expressions, he knew exactly what she thought of him.
“Oh goodness! What’s your name, little man?” She spoke down to Tenko, who eyed her suspiciously as he pulled at his gloves.
“Um, Tenko.” He said, and Inko put a soft hand on his head, fingers brushing over greasy, dirty waves of pale hair. He looked up at her, and she gave him a small smile, which seemed to calm his nerves slightly.
“Okay, Tenko. Can you tell me your surname?” The receptionist said, typing something into her computer.
“Shimura.” The woman hummed and typed some more, then froze, eyes scanning the screen in disbelief. She flicked her gaze back down to the boy, and then to Inko, beckoning her closer.
“Shimura, as in the family that...” she trailed off, gaze drifting back to the boy who was watching them blank-faced. She frowned, and Inko sighed.
“I believe so,” she said, and the woman’s expression turned fearful as she gave Tenko another once over. The boy was clearly uncomfortable, but she didn’t seem aware of it.
“And the gloves?” She whispered conspiratorially, and Inko barely withstood the urge to roll her eyes.
“His quirk is very destructive with all five fingers, so we put together a solution so that he could have something to eat. Right, sweetheart?” She said, including Tenko in the conversation because she had a feeling being talked about was the last thing he wanted at that moment. He nodded shyly, and Inko didn’t miss the way the receptionists eyes narrowed.
“Okay. Let me just make a quick call, you three have a seat over there.” She said concisely, pointing over to the row of three chairs against the side wall. Inko took a seat and pulled Izuku’s stroller over to face her, and Tenko sat to her other side.
“You’ve been doing so well, Tenko. I’m really proud of you. We’ll get a policeman or policewoman in, we’ll figure out what happened, and then we can get you someone to stay with, okay?” Tenko nodded solemnly, then his gaze returned to Izuku.
“He’s very happy,” the boy observed quietly, watching Izuku take in the scenery of the police station. The baby’s veridian eyes met Tenko’s crimson, and Izuku reached out toward him. Tenko seemed to move to take his hand, then pulled back.
“I don’t want to... he’s so little,” he muttered softly to himself, but Inko got the gist of what he was trying to say.
“You won’t hurt him, Tenko. You have your gloves, we tested it, remember? You didn’t get through the glove until all five fingers touched it, and you didn’t break anything else while you had the gloves on.
“But... if it changes,” he whispered, still watching the baby tensely, and Inko just wanted to hug him.
“It’s okay, Tenko. You don’t need to do anything if you’re scared. I just want you to be comfortable.” Tenko relaxed at that, and leaned slightly forward.
“Hi baby,” he said softly, and Izuku giggled, reaching for his face. A small smile tugged at Tenko’s lips, drawing Inko’s attention to the harsh split in his upper lip.
“Ah, I forgot about that! Let me go to the bathroom and get paper towel, okay? Can you watch Izuku for me?” Tenko nodded firmly, and Inko quickly rushed to the bathroom. She figured it would be fine, a police station was easily one of the safest places any innocent civilian could be, she could rush off for a quick minute.
Apparently she was wrong, because when she returned a minute later with a couple of damp paper towels, Izuku was whimpering, and Tenko was on the verge of tears as a police officer forced a cup of water and a pill into his hands. Inko had never crossed a room so quickly before in her life.
“I’m sorry, what is that?” She said, tone scornful in a way she hadn’t intended it to be.
“A quirk suppressant, ma’am. The boy’s quirk is highly dangerous and he is unstable.” The officer’s expression was calm, as if he’d been through this type of situation hundreds of times before. The thought was enough to bring Inko’s blood to a boil.
“He was perfectly stable before you came over here! And he has gloves, we’ve already tested it! His quirk needs all five fingers to make contact for it to do anything, he’s harmless!” She cried, gesturing angrily at the boy who was crying new tears over the stains on his cheeks.
“Just a precaution, ma’am.” He said, still trying to force the pill into Tenko’s hands as he adamantly tried to push it away. Inko spluttered and pushed the officer back.
“How do you expect him to take that!? He could barely eat a few minutes ago!” She was bordering on hysterical, and Izuku had started wailing. The officer’s eyes narrowed and Inko thought she was about to be yelled at when a different officer stepped in.
“We have a liquid version. I acknowledge your concern ma’am, but the suppressant is a safety precaution, I don’t mean to offend but I doubt you’ve discovered everything there is to be known about this quirk in the short time you’ve known him.” This officer said solemnly, holding forward a small medicine cup of pale blue liquid. Inko met their eyes exasperatedly, but it was clear the officers wouldn’t budge. She took the cup and turned to Tenko, getting down to her knees.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. You just need to drink this. It won’t hurt you, I promise,” she said, and Tenko took the cup, swallowed the contents, and then pulled a face at the taste.
“Okay. Thank you for dropping him by, ma’am, we can take it from here.” The second the quirk suppressant was in Tenko’s stomach the officer stepped forward and put a hand on Tenko’s shoulder, moving to steer him further into the building. It was clear as day that Tenko was panicking as he dug his heels into the carpeted floor, yet he was entirely silent. Meeting the eyes of the first officer, Inko only saw cold professionalism.
In that moment she knew that if she left Tenko in their hands, he would end up traumatised from investigations and hopped up on prescribed quirk suppressants, being sent between foster homes and orphanage buildings for the rest of his life. She couldn’t let him go through that. She clenched her fist, tears coming to her eyes as she took a step forward.
“Wait, I want to adopt him!” She practically yelled, and the officer holding Tenko turned to face her slowly.
“You what?” The officer said, almost incredulous. Inko knew what they were doing. Giving her the option to back out, because they believed that nobody wanted to—or deserved to have to—care for the kid. It only steeled her resolve as Inko closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she met the officer’s gaze, her eyes glinted with determination.
“I want,” she started, taking another step forward to drive the point home, “to adopt him.”