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Izuku had been more than reluctant to wake up this morning, let alone actually get out of bed. His limbs had been heavy and buzzing with static, half distant and half aching in a way that only the purring of the cats and the warm voice of his Dad calling through the door had soothed.
"Izuku, kiddo?" He manages a stuttering hum that must make its way through the gap in his just-open door and invites his Dad in, strands of dark hair appearing before a furrowed brow and molten eyes, liquid with concern and care. Izuku hyper-focuses on those eyes, taking in the shifting glints of light, the emotions and thoughts flashing through them, not really registering the meaning behind them as he simply basks in the life to be found in his Dadzawa's expression. It's so far from the glaze that overtakes them in his dreams sometimes, seen in a detail so excruciatingly real because Izuku has seen death and pain and agony and it's all too easy to paste that onto his precious ones' faces and feel the agony of knowing they're gone, even when-
Then he registers that the man is talking again and tries to hear past the whispering winds that susurrate in his mind, languishing in his blood as though waiting to be spilt and split and splintered, too akin to voices from years past, or mere months ago, to be ignored.
"-lem Child, Izuku, you with me?" Instead of replying, Izuku reaches out, fingers tangling into a familiar jumpsuit sleeve, and tugs lazily. But not half-heartedly because he wants his Dad-
"Hey there kiddo." It's quiet and soft and everything he needs because it settles something in his chest, something that had been a caged bird, feathers bending and bones bruising against the iron of his ribs, and tells him that they're safe. He can relax.
"You want some time kid? We can spare a little while." It doesn't take a thought before Izuku is nodding, shifting to press his forehead into his Dad's hip where the man has settled beside him on his bed, a warm hand branding itself amongst his curls, against his scalp, all soothing and just the right side of scratching where it relieves the ache and tension lining Izuku's muscles, trickling down from his head to his toes. In perfect tandem with the smooth purrs of Caitlin and Cadaver, both sprawled out across his legs and chest respectively, Kimchi a ball of warm fluff against one ankle. It helps.
They do stay like that for a good while, but eventually Izuku grumbles and leans back a bit, feeling better if still not right, because logically he knows they should be leaving sooner rather than later, even though he just wants to stay in bed with his Dad and their cats forever. If his boyfriends and Tsuka and Nem and Zashi could somehow join them too, then that would be even better. All of his family, all together.
But now, they have a school to attend.
"You sure you want to do lessons today kid? There's no problem if there's something else you'd prefer." The offer is genuine, yet he can't take it.
"Mm's alrigh'," Izuku mumbles, tongue leaden but just about obeying, and he earns a softer sort of Cheshire grin for the effort,
"I reckon we could rope Hizashi into going out and getting us some ice cream for lunch, don't you? From that shop we like." The greenette feels something like a smile tug at his own lips at the thought, but more at his Dad's mischief. Chaos always cheers him up.
Yet he doesn't feel very cheerful several hours later, with their class being accosted in the corridor by a mixed group of older business and general education students, almost like what had happened back before the Sports Festival. And the topic isn't much different either.
There's a clear ringleader, tall with some kind of bug-like antenna and mandibles clicking with every word, just like how Izuku feels his heart beat louder with every single syllable, something like anger fizzling in his fingertips.
"-ell you must have all done something to deserve all these villain attacks, right? And you've certainly enjoyed them! Not to mention that loads of you are pretty villainous, with explosions and brainwashing and tentacles and stuff, not to mention your creepy teacher that steals Quirks, so maybe you're all actually villains and asked-"
"Now see here, it's very rude to assume such things-" Iida's arms are chopping as he steps forward. His posture is protective rather than defensive and for half a moment Izuku calms down a little. At least they've all got each other's backs.
"Oh what, you telling off your upperclassmen now? Not very polite, is it? Oh, wait, I know you. Aren't you that Iida kid whose brother-"
A vicious snarl twists pretty features and suddenly Izuku is flying forward, ready to kick the bastard right in the face.
"The fuck do you think you're saying, I could tear those mandibles right off your fucking face and stab them into your abdomen you absolute-" But he's stopped a bare inch away, knife in hand. Strips of white fabric are winding their way around him, tugging him back, away from the boy who now looks terrified - as he fucking should be - and Izuku vaguely registers that his Dadzawa must have stopped him. But Izuku is still writhing and wriggling, determined to murder this fucker who dared to-
"Midoriya Izuku." His Dad's baritone voice rings out, and everyone in the corridor, barring the greenette himself, flinches at the stony tone. Izuku only continues trying to escape, growling wordlessly.
"With me. I'll deal with you later," the man adds, no doubt sending a glare at the management kid. But it isn't enough, he fucking insulted Izuku's class, said they were villains, and that is utterly unacceptable. Izuku won't stand for it. He just won't. It's wrong and fucked up and-
He's been carefully carried somewhere in the capture weapon and now strong, stable arms wrap around his shoulders, and Izuku finds himself pressed against his Dad, barely able to move, face nestled in the capture weapon that has fully returned to the man's neck. And Izuku finally breathes in. His Dad is here, everyone's safe, and that bastard will get what he deserves. After-
"No, don't get worked up again. Izuku. I need you to breathe with me kiddo... That's better. Keep it up kid."
Pressed into his Dad's chest, safe, feeling each of those words rumble through him and every breath press against him, the teen finally allows himself to abandon his anger - his utter and absolute fury - and calm down, sagging into his hero's arms.
"Thanks," he mumbles. There is only a vague hum in reply, but it is more than enough. It's rare for Izuku to get so worked up, but when he does, it's so hard to come down from, particularly when it normally sends him spiralling into a panic attack because his instincts coupled with emotional overloads easily lead to people getting hurt and that only makes everything worse but his Dad is here, and he's gotten him out of there before anything more could happen. And now Izuku can breathe and let himself relax, at least a bit.
Eventually they start moving again but Izuku simple keeps his face buried in his Dad's capture weapon, feeling the man step and sway from where he's settled on his hip. Even though it should make him feel childish and immature to be carried like a young child, it's so overwhelmingly comforting that Izuku can't help but settle even further into the hold.
Then his Dad is sitting down somewhere soft, probably their sofa in the faculty room, and when he taps questioningly on Izuku's shoulder, the teen acquiesces to shift himself back and be able to look up at the man. To listen to him and have a conversation.
"I heard some of what he said, and I can see why you flipped out, but he's only a random student from management kiddo. His words don't matter." And his Dad might be right, but Izuku was right too, he knows.
"But it's people like him that make Toshi believe that his Quirk is bad! And he insulted you too. Plus the rest of the class, as though we're not a bunch of fucking traumatised first years who have nearly died a shit-ton of times!" Izuku's not quite worked up again, but he's close to it. His blood and breathing and brain are moving that little bit too fast again, racing ahead of him, left to choke in the dust that rises in his emotional wake. But then his Dad squeezes him a little tighter,
"I know kid, I know. It's fucked up. But it's just the way some people are going to be and you have nothing to prove to them, only to yourself. Focus on saving people instead, okay? Including yourself." And oh. Oh, he should have known that would be what this was about, at least from his Erasedad's perspective.
"I... I guess," Izuku mumbles, already pressing his face back into his Dad's neck, glad for the darkness and solid thump of the heartbeat to be found there. Today has been awful to say the least, but he can ignore that for now.
His class support each other, he knows. They all tease and study and eat together and they're learning their own worth, their potential as heroes, and Izuku will be damned if he doesn't make sure they all find themselves as the competent heroes he knows they are. And his Dad will be right here with him for that, Izuku has no doubt. His hero will make sure that the whole class succeeds.
His Dadzawa is his hero for a reason after all.
(And this is only one of them. There are so many other things, big and small and in between, from the way that the man holds him close and careful, to how his voice is the perfect pitch to rumble through Izuku's chest; from how he hides smiles in his capture weapon or trembling hands in his pockets, to how he has always given Izuku everything he needs or wants and more. Izuku really couldn't be luckier. Truly so.)