Chapter Text
“He’s so cool! I’m gonna be a hero, just like All Might!” Inko laughed as she watched Izuku and Katsuki run around the living room in their All Might onesies.
“Be careful boys!” Inko called out as she entered the kitchen to grab them all a snack. It was unfortunate timing, as the chiming of the washing machine drowned out Katsuki’s next words. If it hadn’t, perhaps Izuku and Katsuki’s relationship would’ve turned out much differently.
“Yeah! Once you get your quirk, we’ll fight all the villains! Just like All Might! You’ll be my sidekick!” Izuku stopped momentarily, before smiling hesitantly.
“Of course, Kacchan.” Katsuki didn’t notice Izuku’s slightly uncertain smile as they continued running around the couches in the small living room.
“Izuku, Katsuki! Come get your snacks!” Izuku shook his head to clear his thoughts, and grabbed Katsuki’s hand.
“Come on, Kacchan! Mom bought those cookies we liked again!” Izuku firmly pushed the creeping thoughts out of his mind as he gave Katsuki a big smile and they ran together into the dining room.
——
“I’m sorry. I’m afraid that Izuku appears to be quirkless.”
Inko felt her heart drop as the doctor spoke. She immediately reached over and grabbed Izuku’s hands tightly. Izuku himself was silent as he stared at the doctor. The doctor apologized again, before he continued his explanation, that he’d come to this conclusion since Izuku’s quirk hadn’t developed already, so it was likely he didn’t have one at all. He lacked the second joint in his pinky toe, but considering Izuku had just turned five, Izuku simply didn’t have a quirk, or that his was a passive, nonphysical one that wouldn’t greatly affect his life. By the age of four, a quirk was expected to manifest. The fact that it hadn’t, a year past the expected date, was enough reason to assume Izuku was quirkless. The doctor finished up, stating that other than this lack of quirk manifestation, Izuku was healthy.
“...thank you.” A sad smile appeared on his face, and he opened the door to let the two of them exit. Inko led Izuku out of the doctor’s office, and bowed respectfully, before quietly walking down the hall, Izuku’s hand grasped tightly in her own, to the car parked outside the doctor’s clinic.
Izuku was silent on the car ride home. Inko often checked the mirror, worried for his well being. It wasn’t until the two were sitting down for dinner, Inko had made katsudon to try and cheer him up, that Izuku spoke for the first time.
“Mom.... I can... I can still be a hero.... right?” Inko’s eyes filled again, and she quickly stood and wrapped her arms around Izuku.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” was all she whispered as she hugged him tightly, tears flowing down both of their faces.
——
“Huh? You don’t have a quirk?” Katsuki gaped at Izuku, staring at him with wide eyes. Izuku shifted nervously from foot to foot, one toe dragging on the ground.
“...that’s what the doctor told me. He said I didn’t have the second pinky toe joint but that I probably still didn’t have a quirk.” Izuku shrugged as he stared at the ground. In the next moment, Izuku cried out as he felt himself shoved to the floor.
“Ow...Kacchan! What was that for?” Izuku cried, his voice full of hurt.
“How can you be my sidekick if you don’t even have a quirk? You’ve ruined my dreams! I don’t want to be your friend anymore!” Izuku’s mouth fell open as he stared at Katsuki’s back, walking away from him. Tears filled his eyes as she struggled to stand, before running after Katsuki.
“Wait! Kacchan!” Izuku grabbed Katsuki’s hand. With a forceful shove and small explosion, Izuku was painfully pushed back onto the ground.
“Stay away from me! You’re useless to me!” Izuku didn’t try to catch up this time, and instead buried his face in his hands as he sat on the cold pavement and cried, upset not only at himself for believing Katsuki was his friend, but also for just how unfair his life seemed to be.
That evening, when Izuku returned home, and his mother inquired about his day, Izuku couldn’t bring himself to tell her about what had happened. So when she asked him how his day had gone, Izuku simply smiled.
“It was fine, Mom.”
——
Katsuki had spread the word about Izuku’s quirkless status to the rest of his kindergarten class. When Izuku tried to defend himself, and his dream to become a hero, he only opened himself up as a target. While none of his classmates would outright hurt him or shove him as Katsuki did, they would participate in the teasing and name calling, or at least would stand and watch, doing nothing to help Izuku.
“Move, Deku! You’re in my way!” Izuku fell to the floor in a heap as Katsuki roughly shoved him.
“Please.. Please stop.” Izuku whispered as he gazed up at Katsuki. At his words, Katsuki just laughed.
“Please stop.” Katsuki mimicked in a whiny voice.
“If you want me to stop, then why don’t you make me?!” Izuku flinched at the pure hatred that emanated from his voice. With a shuddery breath, Izuku quietly pushed himself up, and walked away, trying his best to ignore the taunts from those who surrounded him.
“Haha, quirkless idiot!”
“He’s lame.”
“What a loser.”
Izuku felt the tears burn at his eyes, but he simply clenched his fists as he walked away, choosing to hide behind a tree in the far corner of the playground, as he did most days now.
——
Izuku didn’t mention Katsuki’s cruelty and scathing words to his mother, nor his classmate’s teasing as he considered it his own fault for being quirkless and unlikable. Even when the small remarks escalated and turned into verbal taunting and bullying, Izuku still remained silent, too ashamed to say anything. Inko didn’t bring up Katsuki’s sudden disappearance, assuming the boys had fought and had a minor falling out, but would make up soon as many young children their age did.
When Inko casually brought up Katsuki’s lack of appearance, Izuku just shrugged and told her that Katsuki and he were no longer friends. When questioned about it, Izuku merely shrugged again, and didn’t answer. The lack of answer concerned Inko, as Katsuki and Izuku had been inseparable ever since they’d met. But the little probing she did only caused Izuku to retreat further in his shell.
Inko said no more about it, as all she knew was that Izuku was well liked and got along well with the other children in his kindergarten class. She just hoped that even if Izuku and Katsuki were no longer friends, that he would be fine in the presence of his other classmates.
——
“You’re so useless, Deku! Quirkless and weak. How could someone like you ever be a hero?” Katsuki spat as he sneered down at Izuku. Izuku’s eyes were brimming with tears, both from the pain in his back of having been shoved down by Bakugo and at the pain in his heart from the harsh words. This time, the pain was worse, as Izuku had fallen onto a previous bruise on his back, so Izuku was unable to stop his tears from falling.
“You’re crying? No crybaby can even dream to be a hero!”
“Kacchan... d-don’t say that. I-I-I’m... I’m going to be a hero, j-just like you,” Izuku whispered, shaking in fear as explosions flashed in Bakugo’s hands, his breaths rapidly speeding up as his heart pounded in his chest. He wrapped his arms around himself tightly as he watched Bakugo with wide eyes.
“Ha! You’re crazy if you still believe that. Stupid Deku! You’re so stupid, with your stupid baby voice and crying like a baby all the time!” Katsuki kicked Izuku in the chest, and let off an explosion before walking off amidst the laughter of his and Izuku’s classmates. Izuku cried out as he felt the burn on his chest blister, and felt the tears fall from his eyes as he shakily tried to control his breathing.
“Yeah, you said it, Bakugo!”
“He doesn’t even have a quirk!”
“How could someone like him ever be a hero?”
“He’s such a crybaby. Always talking in that stuttery voice and crying at anything.”
Izuku’s vision blurred over as his tears fell faster. He scrambled to his feet and ran towards the boy’s bathroom, feeling the sudden urge to vomit, the burn on his chest searing in pain as his classmates snickered and jeered at him.
——
When Izuku returned home that night, arms tightly wrapped across his chest and refusing to meet her eyes, Inko could immediately sense that something was wrong. She knelt by him and pried his arms away from his chest, and gasped as she took in the blistered skin and burnt shirt. Izuku’s gaze was fixed downwards silently, and Inko felt cold drops of tears fall onto her shoulders, as she picked him up and rushed out the door to the hospital.
He was lucky, the doctor told them. It was only a second degree burn, and would heal in a few weeks. He did warn though it was likely to become scarred, considering the damage. The doctor was puzzled when regarding the length of time that had passed between the time of injury and the time of treatment. But he pushed it out of his mind as he cleaned and dressed the wound, before sending the two home with prescriptions for a burn salve and some child-friendly painkillers.
Izuku was silent as Inko tried and failed to get him to tell her how he’d gotten the burn later that evening, at home. He merely shook his head, and wrapped his arms around his legs, burying his face. Inko’s eyes welled up as she reached out to hug him tightly, though the thoughts still rang loudly in Izuku’s head.
Worthless. Quirkless. Useless.
Inko eventually carried Izuku up to bed. He needed his rest after all, even if he refused to eat anything for dinner. After changing his bandage, Inko kissed Izuku and tucked him in. All the while, Izuku didn’t speak a word, so lost and absorbed in his own dark thoughts. As bid him goodnight, and slowly walked down the stairs, Inko prayed to whatever gods may be listening to please watch over her little boy, and, though she had no proof, to protect him from the explosive anger of one blond child.
——
The next morning, Inko went up to Izuku’s room to wake him for school. Poking her head around the door, she spoke softly to him.
“Izuku, honey. Time to get up.” There was no movement from Izuku. Inko frowned, and tapped on the door while calling out to him again.
“Izuku? It’s 7:30, dear.” There was still no movement. Inko’s frown deepened as she walked into the room.
“Izuku?” Inko opened the door further and padded quietly into the room. She reached over his shoulder and gently shook Izuku. This time, Izuku’s eyes opened, and he turned over to meet his mother’s gaze.
“Good morning.” Inko smiled softly at Izuku and turned towards his dresser to lay out his clothes for him.
“It’s going to be chilly today so I want you to take a sweater to school. Okay? And I spoke to your teacher. She’ll be looking out for you.” Inko said, her back turned towards Izuku as she plucked up his uniform shirt and pants from the dresser. Inko laid them out on the bed, along with a pair of socks before turning back to Izuku.
“Now...” Inko trailed off as she met Izuku’s shocked gaze. Immediately she sat next to him, worried.
“Izuku? What’s wrong? What’s wrong, dear?” Inko asked, her eyebrows furrowed. Izuku just shook his head. Confused, Inko asked again.
“What’s wrong?” And Izuku kept shaking his head, as tears filled his eyes and his face rapidly paled, his hands coming up to cup his ears.
“Mom... I... I can’t hear you.”
——
Izuku sat numbly in the plastic hospital chair, his eyes concentrating on the floor in front of him as his hands grasped his mother’s jacket next to him. He felt her body move as she spoke with the doctor. He was afraid. And exhausted.
After he’d revealed his lack of ability to hear, Inko had rushed Izuku back to their pediatrician, who’d then sent them to a large hospital where they’d spent most of the day undergoing tests. Now in the late afternoon, Inko and Izuku were seated in a doctor’s office, presumably, Izuku thought, getting those test results.
A light tapping on his head caused Izuku to look up. Inko smiled at him, though her smile wavered briefly, before she pointed to a notebook on the doctor’s desk.
Hello, Izuku. Your hearing seems to be gone. Your ears aren’t hurt, and we don’t know why yet. It’s okay though. Don’t worry. We will do everything we can to help you.
Izuku stopped reading as his eyes blurred over with tears. He pushed the notebook away, and refused to read the rest of the words written on the page. Instead, Izuku let out a small, pained noise and curled up on his chair, his body shuddering as tears started to fall. Inko’s arms wrapped around her little boy as they had so many times in the past few days, and she cried into his hair, hugging him tightly to her.
Izuku couldn’t hear his mother crying, though he felt her chest shaking and her arms tightening around his body. And in the silence, Izuku sobbed, his heart feeling like it would burst at the unfairness of it all.
Why? Why?..... why?
——
Izuku was measured the next day for his hearing aids. Thankfully, Inko’s insurance covered some of the costs, which meant Izuku could obtain a decent set of hearing aids, though Inko didn’t have the money to cover a second pair. They would be ready in two weeks, the doctor assured. He did warn Izuku and his mother though, that Izuku’s hearing, while it had initially suddenly decreased and plateaued, his hearing would likely still continue to get worse over time.
If they took care of his ears, and ensured no damage was brought to them, then Izuku would likely be able to use hearing aids to hear until his late teens.
In preparation for that day, and also to improve his quality of life, the doctor recommended they learn sign language, and that Izuku learned to read lips. He offered a few pamphlets that detailed free classes and tips on learning. Inko thanked him shakily, and she led Izuku out of his office.
Unsurprisingly, the drive home was silent again, as it had often been in the past few days. Izuku was curled in on himself, his emotions a wild mess as his thoughts repeated an endless cycle in his head.
Worthless. Quirkless. Deaf. Useless.
Worthless. Quirkless. Deaf. Useless.
——
Inko decided to pull Izuku out of school until they had both gotten comfortable with sign language. It was a move she had been planning on anyway, considering the bullying hadn’t improved, though it had come a little sooner than she would have thought. She’d planned to let Izuku finish his last few weeks of the summer term before moving him to a new school in September. But perhaps it would be better, she thought, if Izuku got some time off to clear his head and make it through these first few weeks without the stress of school and his peers.
The hospital had recommended an organization that offered free tutoring in sign language for deaf children and their parents. Inko had contacted them, and received confirmation for their first lesson on Thursday. The days leading up to the lesson were quiet, too quiet. Inko tried to engage Izuku with books and different drawing activities, but Izuku was silent. Even the hero notebooks couldn’t garner more than a vacant gaze, when Inko brought them over to Izuku along with a new hero’s guidebook she’d bought at the store. For most of the day, Izuku sat quietly either on the couch in the living room or on his bed, gazing off into space. During meals, Inko continually encouraged him to eat, only to clear plates with more food left than eaten. When the first day of tutoring came along, Inko was worried out of her mind. Taking a deep breath, Inko grabbed the small whiteboard she’d been using to communicate with Izuku, and headed up to his room. Flicking the light off and on once to get Izuku’s attention, she smiled warmly before going to sit down next to him on his bed.
Izuku gazed at her silently, though his eyes didn’t meet hers. He watched as she wrote on the whiteboard, flipping it around so he could see what she’d written.
Your tutor will be here in 10 minutes. Can you come downstairs so you’re ready for her? Izuku nodded, and silently began his way out the door. Inko gave a soft sigh, as she watched him plod down the stairs without protest, before following him down the stairs. It was killing her to see her previously happy, carefree child be so down and distant. And she was worried. Immensely. Izuku hadn’t spoken a single word since he’d told her he first couldn’t hear. She knew his inability to hear likely was contributing to this, but she still was concerned over his complete lack of verbal communication. She only hoped that with hearing aids and a fresh start at a new school, Izuku would be able to restart his life.
A ring of the doorbell had her hurrying to open the front door. A woman with soft grey eyes and snow-white hair stood at her front step. Inko greeted the woman with a polite smile and ushered her into the living room, where Izuku sat, staring down at the carpet in front of the couch.
Inko lightly tapped Izuku’s shoulder in an attempt to rouse him so he could greet his teacher. When he didn’t respond, Inko touched his shoulder again, lightly squeezing it in an attempt to rouse him from his thoughts. Izuku didn’t move, and Inko reached for her whiteboard, before a hand lightly rested on her forearm, stopping her.
“May I?” The woman asked, her voice soft and gentle. Inko nodded, surprised, and watched as the woman wrote a few sentences before sitting down next to Izuku. She watched as the woman lightly rubbed Izuku’s back, and placed the whiteboard on the ground where he could see it. A moment later, Izuku’s head rose as he gazed up at the woman’s face. The woman smiled, and taking the whiteboard up again, began her lesson by writing down several words, and then showing Izuku and Inko the hand movements that designated the word. Inko followed along immediately, her hands carefully forming the signs as she followed the woman’s example, but Inko’s concern only grew when Izuku didn’t move.
——
Hi, Izuku. How are you? My name is Rei. You can call me Auntie Rei. When Izuku had read the words, a spark of curiosity had him looking up at the woman. Her white hair fascinated him, and her soft grey eyes gave him a sense of security and safety. The soft touch on his back caused him to relax, some of his nervous tension leaving his shoulders. He looked up again as the whiteboard moved from the floor, and Rei wrote on the whiteboard, explaining to him that she would write words and sign them to him, to teach him.
While his mother and Auntie Rei started immediately, Izuku felt a wave of anxiety come over him, and he curled up into a ball on the couch. Izuku watched the two of them silently. He glanced at the whiteboard, which stated “Hello, goodbye, mom, eat, and thank you.” He looked back over to the woman, who was patiently fixing Inko’s hands as she attempted the “thank you” sign. The woman noticed Izuku watching her, and she smiled at him, again bringing him a feeling of reassurance, before pointing to the word “mom” on the whiteboard. She signed “mom” and motioned for Izuku to try as well. Izuku stared at her for a full minute, before slowly raising his hands and copying her movement. The woman nodded in approval, and motioned for him to sign to his mother.
Izuku glanced briefly at his mother’s face, before slowly making the movement that signed “mom” at Inko. He looked up at her face, though not meeting her eyes, and was greeted by a single tear dropping down his mother’s cheek.
The woman smiled wider, before getting both Inko and Izuku’s attention and resuming their lesson, this time with both mother and son copying her signs. The hour passed quickly, and the woman appeared pleased at how intelligent Izuku appeared to be, as they’d covered a good portion of basic daily use signs and the alphabet as well. He watched as his mother spoke to Auntie Rei, before looking back down at the papers and books she had left for him and his mother to look over. Izuku slowly started signing to himself, thoughtfully creating a few sentences from the words Rei had taught him.
——
“Izuku is incredibly bright. You should be proud,” the woman remarked as she stood to leave. Inko smiled proudly, and a tad relieved, as she glanced over at Izuku, who was slowly signing the words he’d learned to himself, over and over again. The woman put her hand on Izuku’s shoulder, and when he looked up, smiled gently at him. Goodbye. See you later, Izuku. she slowly signed. Inko watched in amazement as Izuku nodded, before also slowly signing a goodbye to the woman. Inko followed the woman out into the entry hall, and thanked her for coming and teaching them both.
“It was no problem, Midoriya-san. I’ll come by again next Monday. And then on Wednesday and Friday as well. We’ll make it three times a week for now, until you two have a good grasp of the language. I left a sheet with the rest of the Japanese alphabet on the coffee table, can you two review it each night?” Inko nodded, and thanked her again as the woman walked out the door.
“Oh! I never asked you for your name!” Inko exclaimed, a small blush reddening her cheeks. The hour had been mostly silent, as Izuku couldn’t hear, and Inko hadn’t realized she didn’t know the woman’s name since she hadn’t had a reason to use it. The woman stopped and turned back to face her, a small smile appearing on her face.
“My name is Todoroki Reí. Just Rei is fine. And I have a son who’s Izuku’s age. Perhaps they could meet soon. Shouto can be shy and I believe he and Izuku would get along well.” Inko nodded, and returned the smile.
“You’re Rei as long as I’m Inko then. And I’m sure Izuku would love to meet Shouto, especially if he’s anything like you. He seems to really like you.” The smile on Rei’s face grew larger, and she nodded in her gentle way, before turning again and walking down the pathway to the street. Inko smiled again as she closed the door. She glanced quickly into the living room and saw Izuku reading over a children’s book on sign language that Rei had left on the table. Seeing no reason to bother him, Inko continued onto the kitchen where she made katsudon for the two of them, as a treat for doing well in his first lesson.
Inko walked back to the living room, humming softly, before she stopped in the doorway. Inko felt a smile grow on her face as she watched Izuku repeat signs over and over again, his tiny hands going through the movements a little bit faster each time.
There was a new spark in his eyes, a light that hadn’t been there before. And as she watched him go through the motions, he looked to the door, probably having sensed her arrival, and met Inko’s eyes for the first time in the past week. Inko felt her eyes well, though she fought to keep them under control. He didn’t smile, but there was a lightness to his demeanor that had Inko relaxing in relief. She motioned for Izuku to stand, and slowly made a few hand signs.
Come. Eat. Izuku.
And Izuku watched her for a long moment, before he replied.
Yes, Mom.
And Inko couldn’t quite keep her tears from falling as she watched Izuku stand and walk to the kitchen, his feet tapping softly on the wooden floor and his face looking up, before she quickly wiped her eyes and joined Izuku for dinner.
Inko gave Izuku an extra hug and kiss that night as she tucked him in, and signed to him “goodnight”. Izuku’s body relaxed under his All Might comforter, and as he turned over to sleep, he whispered out a tiny “goodnight” that had Inko’s eyes welling up in tears again for the umpteenth time that day.
——
“Can you hear me, Izuku?” The doctor queried as Izuku fidgeted slightly with the hearing aids on his ears. He looked up and nodded, before reaching up and running his fingers along them again. The doctor’s voice wasn’t incredibly clear, but Izuku could understand him for the most part.
“How many fingers am I holding up?”
“....3.”
“Good.” The doctor smiled as he scribbled a few more notes onto Izuku’s file.
“Take care of them, alright? And Mrs. Midoriya,” the doctor said as he turned towards Inko.
“They aren’t waterproof, so Izuku will need to be careful in the rain. They’re also fragile, so they shouldn’t be dropped. If Izuku isn’t wearing them, for sleep or some other reason, they should be kept in their case, to avoid any potential damage.” Inko nodded, before turning to Izuku.
“Did you hear all of that?” Inko asked gently. Izuku nodded, choosing to sign with his hands this time.
Yes. Inko blinked in mild surprise but didn’t say anything. They had both gotten much more adept at sign language over the past two weeks, thanks to Rei’s careful teaching and their constant practice. Rei had been especially pleased at Izuku’s ability to quickly pick up the language. He had learned a lot and was able to hold his own in conversation with her already. Inko had noticed though that Izuku had stopped speaking again, instead signing to Inko whatever was on his mind. She didn’t mind too much, as he was communicating with her, a vast improvement from his blank stares, but she did miss hearing his excited little voice.
“Okay, good. As for your chest, it’s healing nicely. You should be able to remove the bandages completely in about a week. Until then, keep them clean, and do as you have been so far. That’s all then. We’ll make a follow up for you in about a month, to check on your ears. Then we’ll go to every other month.” The doctor stood and opened the door to his office to let the duo out. Inko and Izuku both bowed, Inko thanking him politely while Izuku quietly signed a thank you to the doctor. They walked out to the car, and Izuku felt a lightness in his chest as he listened to the chirping of birds and the rustle of leaves as the wind blew through them. He’d missed these sounds, having lived two weeks listening to nothing but his own thoughts. Which, as it turned out, wasn’t necessarily a good thing. He was so wrapped up in taking in the sounds around him that he jumped when Inko spoke.
“What do you want for dinner, Izuku?” Inko glanced over at him as she opened the car door and helped him buckle into his car seat. Izuku shrugged, before replying.
Anything is okay. I don’t mind. Inko nodded, before she got in the driver’s seat.
“Tempura?” Izuku nodded. The car ride home was quiet, though the heavy feeling had gone from the atmosphere. Inko allowed Izuku to have his window open as she drove home, and Izuku took in every sound that passed, from two dogs barking at each other to the summer breeze that cooled the heat from the sun.
When they arrived home, Inko immediately went to enter the house, but when Izuku failed to appear, she looked back outside.
“Not coming in?” Izuku shook his head.
Can I stay outside for a while? Inko nodded.
“Just until dinner is ready, love.” At Izuku’s nod, Inko made her way to the kitchen. Meanwhile, Izuku sat outside on the front step, just listening to cars passing by, people talking, birds chirping cheerfully. He closed his eyes and just enjoyed the gentle breeze and warm sunshine of the setting sun. When Inko called him in for dinner, Izuku took one last look around, before going and sitting at his place at the table.
The two started in comfortable silence, both tired out from the many doctors visits and lessons that had taken over their lives in the past weeks. After a few minutes though, Inko broke the silence, and spoke directly at Izuku.
“Are you happy to be able to hear again?” Izuku nodded, and signed a few words in response.
It’s nice. I missed sounds. Inko smiled.
“So is there anything you want to do before you go back to school?” Izuku shrugged in response.
“If you think of anything, let me know.” Izuku nodded and a comfortable silence filled the room as the two ate Inko’s delicious cooking.
Izuku noticed a mild curiosity and confusion emanating from his mother, and figured she probably wanted to ask him about his talking, considering the events at the doctor’s office. But he also knew his mother was too polite and considerate to push him into talking, so Izuku took the initiative.
What’s wrong, Mom? Inko blinked in surprise, before she replied.
“Izuku, honey, why don’t you use your voice? You can hear with the hearing aids, right?” Izuku didn’t look up from his rice bowl, shrugging in response.
I can hear. I don’t like talking. Inko blinked.
“Is there a reason why?” Izuku just shrugged again.
Don’t know. Inko gave a soft sigh.
“Does it bother you that I talk? Do you want me to sign too?” Izuku shook his head.
Don’t mind. I like you talking, Mom. Inko nodded, a small smile appearing on her face.
“I’ll keep talking then. And signing.” Izuku nodded too, and they both returned to their rice bowls. When they finished, Izuku helped Inko clear the table before starting to head upstairs to get ready for bed. Inko’s voice stopped him halfway up.
“Remember, dear. Rei is bringing her son tomorrow. They’ll be here for lunch.” Izuku nodded. A feeling of anxiety and fear crept into his heart, but Izuku quickly brushed those feelings away. Auntie Rei’s son wouldn’t be like the other kids. He couldn’t be. Not with Auntie Rei as his mother.
He hoped so at least.
Name? Inko thought for a moment, before replying.
“Shouto, I believe. Todoroki Shouto.”