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Midoriya Inko was not very intimidating upon first glance. She was a petite woman, small and round and frail, with wide eyes that glistened with tears more often than not and hands that twisted with worry at every turn. Her neighbors whispered that she cried for three hours when her son first moved away from home, years before she was ready. She would hand out baked goods to her friends and neighbors at the slightest hint of need, offered to shop for groceries and pick up medications and do anything she could to support the people around her. Those who knew her son could see where his drive to help came from.
Very few people knew the true depths of Midoriya Inko. Bakugo Mitsuki was one of them, and only because she had known Inko since they were children. Even she had nearly been fooled by Inko’s kind, fretful nature, but when Izuku was born she learned the truth.
As a mother, Inko had someone to fight for. And when she fought for her son, she was frightening.
It began before Izuku was born. Mitsuki came over while Inko was pregnant, carrying her own newborn son against her chest. She didn’t bother knocking, instead slamming the door open with all the usual grace of a Bakugo.
What she saw had her stop dead in her tracks.
Inko was standing there, face red, a frying pan in hand, glaring up at her husband Hisashi. There were tears streaking down her cheeks, but her eyes were cold with anger.
“You should be happy,” Inko said, not even noticing Mitsuki there. “You should be happy to have a child to love and raise. They will grow to be someone incredible, and if you can only see them as a problem, then you have lost all right to be a father to them.”
“I told you I never wanted a damn brat!” Hisashi hissed, but his anger was overshadowed by the trembling in his legs, the fear in his eyes.
“ Get. Out.”
Hisashi stumbled past Mitsuki without ever registering that she was there.
“...damn, Inko,” Mitsuki breathed.
“Oh, Mitsuki!” Inko set the frying pan on the table and wiped the tears off her cheeks. “Oh goodness, I completely forgot you were coming over today, I’m sorry you had to see that… anyway! I made some cookies, they’re in the kitchen if you want some!”
“I’ll take you up on that,” Mitsuki said, and it was as if nothing had ever happened.
That was the last time she ever saw Hisashi, and the quiet conversation with Masaru that night was the last time she ever spoke of him.