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Inko didn’t know what to expect when her son came home carrying a small sleeping child in his arms.
But she did know her son did not have a child when he left his own home, and she’s wondering just where he got this child, most of the children dropped off at his agency were babies, small, tiny, new born babies, not children who looked like they had to be at least twelve.
Inko did however take in the child's looks, curly brown hair with dark highlights, it looked fluffy and soft like a brown cloud in her opinion, no where close to her son's unruly messy curls.
She looked at the dark eye bags on the child's pale while skin, the lightly pinked cheeks that must be a permanent mark on the child, and Inko decided to do some math.
Her baby is thirty-three, soon reaching thirty-four, this child has to be at least twelve, maybe thirteen, Inko blinked, did my Izuku have a child at twenty? She wondered as she glared at her son who looked at the sleeping child, and then at her in a panic, his green eyes now wide and his face glowing a bright red.
“He’s not mine.” Her son stated, red faced, “he’s my student.” He whispered, “it’s just, he passed out crying on me, and I just found him tonight and, I don’t know where he lives, but mom he was in the area so…” Inko cut her sons ramblings off with a motherly sigh, “Izuku?” “Yes?” “Go put him in your bed.”
Izuku smiled and nodded, Inko decided she’d make two cups of coffee, no doubt her son and her were going to have a long talk about how he just decided to bring a random child into her home.
But she laughed to herself silently, afterall, even in her distant memories of when he was a boy, Izuku always did have a knack for bringing in stray children into her home, even if they weren’t the nicest to him.
Oh the wonder of being a hero, Inko thinks silently to herself as her son comes down the hall, a smile plastered on his already kind face.
“Okay, I can explain everything.”
Inko nodded, handing her son a coffee, “do tell.” She said in a sweet voice that made Izuku’s hair on his neck stand up, Inko could tell from the way her son stiffened.
He always did have a knack for letting his guard down around her.
“Their name is Buga,” he states and Inko quirks a green brow, “I found out on the walk here that they’re thirteen.” Inko nods again, “and they’re quirkless.”
She spits out her coffee, quirkless, in this era? She thinks, and the flashbacks of her Izuku runs through her head and it feels like a rock just crashed down on her, quirkless people, it was a whopping twenty percent world-wide back when her Izuku was just a baby, but now?
Now it’s fifteen percent now, and only two, two decades have gone by. It was only one percent in Japan, but with quirked people only getting with other quirked people, the rate has dropped to below one percent, last time she checked it was at zero point eighty-five percent, she thinks.
Inko watches as her son cleans up the coffee and he breathes out, “they asked me if they could be a hero, and mom, I think they can do it.” He tells her, and Inko thinks back to how she failed her son, and she is so glad her son decided to not fail this child.
So she took her sons hands in hers and smiled, “you take good care of them.”
Her son's smile is worth it because all he does is nod, “I will mom! Just you watch!”
Inko nods, of course she will. She’s always watching her son.
When the next morning rolls around, Inko’s up before anyone else, or so she thought, she watched as a tired Buga came out of their chambers and Inko finally noticed that they have full lips, it makes her giggle a little as she remembers that one girl Bakugo was such good friends with when Izuku and him were in highschool.
“Hello, Buga, can I interest you in breakfast?” Buga eyed her, blinking as they looked down, “last night wasn’t a dream?” They asked as Inko laughed softly, “no, it wasn’t.” “Deku really promised to help me?” They whispered to themselves as Inko smiled, “cinnamon rolls?” She asked as Buga looked at her, their grey eyes shifting to the cook book.
“Is that All Mights?” They asked, surprised as Inko nodded, “Toshi and I were close friends.” She told Buga, a smile on her face, “he was one of my best friends.”
“So, he’s not Deku’s dad?” Buga asked, eying the woman seriously as she snorted, “are you Shoto’s secret love child?” She asked, a smile on her face as Buga flushed slightly, “n-no way, Shoto would never have a quirkless child.”
Inko couldn’t hold in her laugh at Buga’s seriousness that was found in his round face, his grey eyes wide at her laugh, “you’re adorable.” Inko says, “Shoto would love having a child, quirked or quirkless.” She tells Buga who blushes more heavily, “too bad my parents didn’t want a quirkless child.” They grumbled and Inko hummed thoughtfully.
Inko remembers what others said about Izuku, about how it was a shame he was quirkless. She remembers the other parents acting as if she was some kind goddess their god put on this earth to love a little quirkless boy.
Inko hated those memories.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Inko says and she watches the weird look at crosses Buga’s eyes, and Inko smiles, “about your parental situation, I’m sorry your parents weren’t parents.” She said as Buga blinked, looking at the counter top, “do you need help with making the cinnamon rolls?” Buga quickly says, changing the topic, “I’m not the best cook, but the little kids at the home say I’m one of the best!”
Inko didn’t know how to feel about the brown haired child who was mixing the dough to the best of their abilities, their grey eyes glaring at the dough as they let out a soft chuckle, “do you think I won’t try my best to win against your tough skin evil dooer?” They asked the food and Inko stifled her laugh.
She remembers her Izuku and how he always did that as a child, imagining himself as a hero while he did something to make it fun, and she can’t help the smile that spread across her face, he’s so much like my Izuku she thinks as she hears her sons stomps around the apartment.
“Thanks for letting us crash here mom.” He tells her, his eyes half closed from just waking up as he yawns, “of course baby, this will always be your home.” She tells him and Izuku chuckles softly, kissing her head as he stares at Buga.
“Whatchya doing there buddy?” “I’m beating up the armadillo villain.” Buga responds calmly before their face glows a bright red, “I mean, I’m so sorry.” They whisper, mumbling to themselves as Inko finally breaks, her laugh roaming through the usual silent apartment, Inko notices the green and grey eyes that stare at her as she wipes away the tears forming in her eyes.
“I’m sorry it’s just, Buga reminds me of you from when you were just a little boy.” Inko says with a smile, “Hisashi and you, you two would always be in the kitchen and, you would pretend to be All Might, Hisashi would help you mix the dough and, you would always pretend that when the dough was tough to stir that it was a villain.” Inko tells Buga and Izuku, a smile on her face.
“It’s just, it’s been so long since I remember those memories.” She tells her son and Buga who both smile at her, fondness on their faces, “yeah, my mom would always play the victim while I was the hero who would save her.”
Izuku’s face brightened, “oh! Same! My mom used to call me Small Might!” Buga laughed, his face lightly blushing, “mine always called me Mr. Uravity.”
Inko brightened, “oh, a fan of Uravity huh? Her and Izuku are bestfriends! She was actually his first friend in highschool!” She tells the boy who blinks, “Uravity was Deku’s first friend?” He asks and Inko blinked, did Izuku not tell Buga his name? She wonders as Izuku flushes.
“I never introduced myself!” Her son yells, embarrassed at his own forgetfulness.
“I’m Midoriya Izuku, but you know me best as Deku huh?” Buga blinks, his own face red, “I never gave you my last name!” Buga says, embarrassed, “I’m Rokubyō Buga!” Buga yells out, “but I tend to like being called Buga more.”
Izuku nods, laughing lightly as Inko starts to roll the dough to make the filling, “I like to be called Izuku more often the Midoriya.” He tells the boy who blinks fastly, “a-are you sure I ca-can call you I-Iz-Izuku?”
Inko snorts lightly, it’s like looking at a mirror of my son when he was a boy, Inko thinks, and she ignores the bitter feeling that begins to rise, I wonder if Izuku’s noticed it.
When the cinnamon rolls are done, Inko sends Buga off with the large batch, reminding him that she couldn’t eat it all by herself.
Izuku walks Buga home, leaving Inko alone in the small apartment that feels so large, and she closes her eyes and sits on the couch and she lets the bitter feelings arise in her.
Buga’s parents left them, she thinks angrily, why would they do that? Because of some condition? How shitty do you have to be? She wonders as she closes her eyes, the bitter feelings falling around her in forms of tears, how can you leave your child? She wonders, but in reality she knows it’s self projections, because in the back of her mind she wonders why Hisashi left them all because Izuku was quirkless when he was a boy.
If I was just a little weaker, would Izuku have been Buga, that kid, they looked so sad. She thinks to herself as she sighs, “their eyes were so sad.” She whispers to herself, and she knows, she never want to see their eyes sad like that again, so she walks to her room and grabs the notes she made when Izuku was a little boy.
The notes she made to understand her boy just a little better, the quirkless support groups and the quirkless friendly places she was able to take her son, she runs her hand over it and smiles.
Maybe Izuku can use this? She thinks, and she hopes it can help Buga a little, just to make their life a little easier.