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He’s not sure if people are depressed or if they just miss home. Denki loves his siblings, but they’re older now, thank god. His older sister is out of the house, and his younger brother can live with her if something terrible happens. Their parents are not perfect, even if they tried to be. He’s going to miss them, of course, because how couldn’t he? But this is the path he’s chosen, the path he was practically forced down. Everyone told him he should be a hero, go to U.A. and take down villains.
Denki is going to be a hero. Even if it’s not quite how anyone imagined.
But almost everyone else in the class… familial ties are strange, sometimes, he thinks. Bakugou is hiding it well, but he clearly misses his dad, Aoyama is quieter than normal whenever someone mentions family, and Tsuyu just looks depressed. It’s not that Denki blames them, or anything, but they need a solution.
Midoriya is seemingly content if he’s getting to save Eri from Overhaul. Denki was slightly worried that Midoriya had actually lost his mind, but he’d managed to dig up enough to figure out that yes, Overhaul was actually real, and wasn’t an insane hallucination. Midoriya actually seemed… worried about that, that he might’ve been going insane. Denki was happy to confirm that he wasn’t, although that didn’t fix the problem of Midoriya not being fully aware of what was and wasn’t real all the time. It’ll have to do, for now, while they’re all in legal limbo.
“Hey, Kaminari?” Yaomomo started. “Can you do something for me?”
“I guess that sort of depends, but probably, yeah. What’s up?” Denki asks, almost afraid of the answer. Yaomomo is one of the few classmates who seemed… brighter. She’d been happier than Denki had ever seen her when she was in the dorms, which was odd. Denki knew he wasn’t the smartest guy around, but he was good with people, and generally, reading people. Everyone else was nervous or scared to live away from home. Yaomomo and Todoroki had been some of the few who’d been seemingly happy. Todoroki, knowing what he does now, makes sense, in hindsight. Yaomomo never really did, but Denki never really knew her that well. If she was happier away from home, it really wasn’t any of his business. They were teenagers, it was reasonable to think they might enjoy not living with their parents for a while.
“It’s just- well, you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but-”
“Just tell me, dude. I’ll figure it out from there, okay?” Denki’s not great with anything super serious, but this is clearly something she’s worried about, so he’ll try to worry about it too. He’s not an asshole.
“Okay. Okay, it’s my parents. I don’t want to talk to them, but they won’t stop trying to find us. I’m worried they might actually sniff us all out.” Okay, yeah, that was bad. If someone found them now, there was no telling what might happen. Todoroki and Midoriya were cleared, but no one else in the class was, not yet. They’d talked about it a little, trying to force pardons for everyone, but there was no point if they were going to take the law into their own hands. Denki wasn’t stupid enough to think someone wouldn’t notice after a certain point.
“You know how they’re finding us? We might need to move.” It’ll be bad if that’s what it takes. There’s no way to move everyone and everything overnight. “I can talk to Midoriya. He’s better at this sort of stuff.”
“Thank you, Kaminari,” she said, and something occurred to Denki.
“Do you want to talk to them?” She bit her lip. ”It’s totally chill if you do, Yaomomo. Everyone would understand, and I can figure something out.” She still didn’t look convinced, but Denki figured it might take some time. In the meanwhile, he could be sure no one tracks them. It’s the least he could do. “Just let me know, yeah?” She nodded, still nervous, but it was a start.
~
The thing is that Momo doesn’t really want to talk to her parents again, but she does. She doesn’t have siblings, just a few distant cousins she’s spoken to once or twice, not enough to have a significant connection with them. Her parents are really her only family, because they were the only ones around. Her grandparents were dead by the time she would’ve been old enough to remember them, so she’s the only family that have, too. It’s not fair to ask them to lose their daughter. And she’s got so many good memories of them, all together, smiling and laughing.
And then some of her memories aren’t so good. And the worst thing, is that she understands that her childhood wasn’t… normal. She understands that other children didn’t count their calories from a young age, that food was a treasured thing. That other kids didn’t memorize hiding spots and when to move them around when certain maids worked. That her peers didn’t stare at their reflection in the mirror and wonder why they looked so fat and ugly, that’s what mom said looked ugly. It wasn’t normal, her time at U.A. had taught her that. But she couldn’t go to anyone, couldn’t tell a soul about what was happening. They wouldn’t believe her if she did.
Now, she’s surrounded by friends, and she refuses to burden them with her problems, but…
Maybe she can get some advice? Kaminari is great, and hopefully he can figure something out to throw her parents off their trail, but he can’t help her with this. He wouldn’t know what to do, not that she would blame him for it. Mina and Tyusu are both great, but Momo isn’t sure either of them can help, and the rest of the girls are similar. She refuses to shove that onto Kyoka, anyways. The rest of the class… well, she’s not sure. She’s relatively close to Todoroki, but he also went through a lot worse than she did, so maybe not him. The only other person she hasn’t eliminated is Midoriya. He’s got a face that just makes people trust him, although Momo’s not sure how or why. He just looks kind, radiates comfort and belief. Supposedly Todoroki told Midoriya about his family before anyone else, and Momo wonders if he’d be willing to listen to her story. She knows it’s not that bad, really, but she’s… she’s never been this happy before. Certainly that means something?
Maybe she’s just being dramatic. But her gut is screaming at her, and the thought of seeing her parents again and seeing the clothing in her closet with sizes too big, too small, the hesitation over chewing a piece of gum because that’s got calories in it-
It makes her sick to her stomach, to think about it again. If nothing else, Midoriya might be willing to listen. It’s not like she could tell anyone else, not if she wanted to be believed.
~
Izuku tries to always lend a listening ear. He’s always ready and willing to help, to jump into the fray for anyone he calls a friend. Or anyone who calls themselves human, for that matter. He’s always wanted to save everyone, and that usually means punching things or people, but sometimes it’s listening to people. He’s pretty sure this is real. It feels real, and he’s not so bored and understimulated that he feels like breaking his own fingers again, so that’s at least good. If this isn’t reality, Izuku can’t bring himself to care much anymore. He’s always going to help people.
The paralyzer Quirk that floats in his head, whispering to him, says differently. It makes his fingertips tingle, the sensation of a new Quirk floating just under his skin. It’s not a bad feeling, and that scares him. He doesn’t want to become All For One, not by a long shot. He doesn’t even want to imagine it, doesn’t want to think of a life where he stands next to his father and helps him destroy lives. His mind does it anyways, sometimes. A reality where his father hadn’t taken his Quirk, a reality where Kacchan’s words had pushed him too far, a reality where All Might shattered him completely. Their similarities scare Izuku, if he’s honest. Besides the very obvious Quirk and appearance similarities, they both love Quirks. Love Quirks, see them as a separate entity from the person wielding them, rather than an extension of them. Human limits meant little in the face of Izuku’s analysis, when he got too manic. From what he remembered of his father, he was the same way. He’d said that analysis ran in the family. If only that weren’t true.
“Hey, Midoriya? Can I talk to you? If you aren’t busy, I mean!” Yaomomo asked, and it doesn’t take a genius to realize she’s nervous.
“Yeah, sure!” He patted the bed, letting her sit carefully. She’s not scared of him, he hopes, but it might be something to do with him. Izuku doubted it, but still, his mind likes to come up with the worst possible outcome. It’s annoying at best and practically crippling at worst. “What’s up?”
“It’s-” She started, then stopped, shaking her head. “Sorry, this is hard.” Izuku just smiled, even as anxiety rocketed through his gut. “It’s my parents.”
Izuku felt guilty about the flood of relief, but it was quickly replaced by concern. He’s lucky that mom wasn’t ever like that, and the less he thinks about dad the better. He prayed silently to himself that it’s nothing like Todoroki’s story, but he feared it might be. He hoped not. Yaomomo is so kind and wonderful, and she wasn’t closed off, not like Todoroki was at the beginning of the year. Izuku’s worried that he missed something important in regards to Yaomomo.
“Okay. You can tell me anything, alright?” She opened her mouth, and no sound came out. She closed it, and tried to start again, but still, nothing. “Do you want to write it down instead?” She nodded, her hands shaking. “You know I won’t judge you, right? Come on, I’ll grab you my notebook, and I can ask Todoroki to burn it afterwards if you want, but you need someone to talk to.”
She nodded again, and bit her lip. “Please.” Her voice was barely a whisper, and Izuku stood to grab a notebook for her. She started to follow, but-
“Stay there, okay? I’ll grab a notebook, just give me a second.” She nodded again, and sat back down. Izuku dug through his backpack, grabbing the first notebook he finds and flips through it quickly, making sure there’s room. He’s assuming that she probably just wants to get this over with, and he doesn’t blame her. If he can help, he wants to, and this is what he can think of. A pencil is easy to find, so he dug one out, and headed back to Yaomomo. She was twiddling with her fingers, her foot tapping gently on the concrete floor. He missed his bedroom back at home, but he also knows he needs to give mom space, so he only goes back once a week. It’s worse for everyone else, because some of them can’t go home, parents kicking them out or refusing to speak to them. It’s a mess.
~
Momo was glad she didn’t have to speak, although it somehow feels like the cowards way out. The more she writes, the more some memories that were buried deep start to surface. Nightmares of someone finding her food stashes become less nightmares and more reality, the memory of the scolding she got hazy but somehow terrifying. When she’s finally finished, she realized her handwriting was messy, unorganized. She was almost embarrassed to show it to anyone, but still, she handed the notebook over, and let Midoriya read.
They sat in silence for a few minutes. She wrote quite a lot. Midoriya can read quickly, she knows, but he might also be trying to absorb it too. When he’s finished, there are tears in his eyes, and he frowns at her.
A hand landed gently on her hand, “I’m so sorry. That- you- that should’ve never happened to you.” He looked at the floor for a moment, collecting himself, likely. “I don’t blame you if you don’t want to go home. I don’t think- well, I guess I don’t decide that for you. But I don’t think you should even go back to them.” Momo bit her lip, because, well, he’s sort of right. She doesn’t want to go back, but she should, shouldn’t she? It’s selfish to ask them to be without their daughter, right?
“I know. But some part of me wants to hope that they’d make up for what they did, or that they’d say they didn’t mean it, or something.” She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Yaomomo, if it makes you feel sick thinking about going back home, that’s not good.” Midoriya hesitated before continuing. “My dad is supervillain and he wasn’t like that. And he’s not a good person, or anything, but- listen, what I’m saying is that no one gets to control you like that. Your parents don’t, and I don’t, either. If you want to talk to them again, that’s your call, right? But if you’re asking for my advice, it’s to… not do that.” He’s right, although uncertainty still sits in her gut.
“Thanks. I’ll… I’ll think about it. And I’ve got Kaminari working on keeping people away from us. I don’t think the ICHA is going to be happy about what we’re planning on doing.” Midoriya’s face hardened slightly.
“I know. But I’m not letting Overhaul or Eri slip through the cracks. I’m not making anyone stay here. I know everyone knew the risk, or whatever, but knowing the risks and living them are two different things, right?”
“I guess.” She sighed. “But still, we knew. We knew what we needed to do, and we did it, because it was the right thing to do.”
“I know. Trust me, I’m not arguing with you there,” he said, smiling sadly. “If you guys hadn’t come, I’m not sure what would’ve happened. Might’ve broken myself out and it would be an even bigger mess.” He closed the notebook in his lap, standing. “Do you want me to ask Todoroki to burn this?” Momo thought about it for a second. She doubted Midoriya would ever tell anyone else, would ever show anyone else the notebook, but… she was paranoid.
She nodded. “Please.”
He gave her a smile, small, but still there. “Sure. I need to talk to everyone, anyways. I think I need to address the whole family thing before it gets too out of hand.”
~
“I’m not asking anyone to leave their families behind. I don’t want you to, actually, if you want to see them.” The entire class stared at him, some with hopeful eyes. Tyusu was a notable one. “However, we’ll have to be careful. I don’t think we can really risk bringing anyone here, and I don’t want anyone getting into trouble because they didn’t report us. The Commission doesn’t have legal powers anymore, but the ICHA might not be too happy with us either.”
“So, some of us might just… go home, once in a while? How are we going to do that? We’re all pretty public figures because of the Sports Festival,” Ojirou asked. Izuku frowned, but he was beat to the punch by Aizawa.
“Disguises, mainly. I’ve worked underground for long enough that I know how to make some look different, and as long as we can cover up more prominent mutations, it shouldn’t be too hard. Plus, most people are willing to turn a blind eye. No one wants another Endeavor.” All Might nodded at his words, but continued further.
“I’m working on using my influence to get everyone here some sort of legal pardon. I can’t promise anything, but former Number 1 holds a lot more weight that anyone really knows. Principal Nedzu is also working on it, although he’s got his hands full with keeping U.A. afloat.” Izuku winced slightly at that last part, but it was true. The public, while they didn’t hate class 1-A, wasn’t exactly pleased to hear about an entire class going rouge. It wasn’t like it had happened before, and with the addition of several teachers leaving, it left U.A. between a rock and a hard place. Although, if anyone could sort it out, it would be Nedzu.
“The point is, if you want to see or talk to family again, just ask. If you don’t want to talk to your family again, you don’t have to. No one’s forcing you to do anything,” Izuku said. “Besides maybe staying low,” he added, as an afterthought.
“What about Overhaul? You’re going to need help, right?” Uraraka asked, and well, she’s right.
He nodded, “Well, yeah. But I’m not forcing anyone to stay and help. I think that Nighteye’s agency is working on the case too, so they might be able to provide support as well. But if we can get a lot of firepower, it’ll make it easier. I’m still not asking anyone who doesn’t want to stay to stay.”
“If we didn’t want to be here, we wouldn’t be here,” Todoroki said, looking Izuku down. “We want to help. Where you go, we follow.” The entire class nodded, some eyes more hardened than others. Izuku nodded at them, swallowing.
“Then follow me to save Eri and take down Overhaul.”