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Aizawa Shouta didn’t know what to do. Midoriya had just sprouted a new quirk during training. Black tentacles from hell didn’t have anything to do with enhanced strength, and the kid’s surprised face at the reveal proved his point. What exactly was going on here?
Asking Midoriya was out of the question. The student didn’t trust him enough to speak up in class, much less divulge his secrets. Things couldn’t stay the way they were either, since Problem Child was now their number one suspect for being a traitor. Still, something didn’t sit right with that idea. Midoriya was too heroic, too desperate, too surprised to be a traitor, even if having a (seemingly) secondary quirk automatically puts him under review.
Still, they needed answers. Who else to ask besides the boy’s mother? Signing off the email, he sent a message to Midoriya Inko asking if they could meet.
A home visit was long overdue.
“Aizawa-san! Please, come in. Would you like some tea?”
Midoriya Inko was as personable as her son. Anxious too, judging by the wringing of her hands and the shifty eyes. He didn’t think his email was that intimidating. Then again, he wasn’t the parent of a kid who broke his bones like pixie sticks, so his judgment was inherently inaccurate.
“That would be unnecessary, Midoriya-san. We have a few things to discuss and it would be best to do this quickly.”
She froze, face paling, before forcing herself to relax. “Of course!”
What an interesting response to a standard home visit. His hunch was correct once again—someone was keeping important information about his student a secret .
“As per my email—”
“Oh, this one?” Midoriya-san interrupted, fiddling with her phone before showing him her screen.
Instead of an email app, like he expected, the notes app was open.
Don’t react. House bugged. HELP.
If it weren’t for his experience Underground, his eyes would have widened.
“Yes, that is the email. I noticed that we were missing some paperwork—his quirk registration, specifically.”
Her eyes closed, as if in relief. She fiddled with her phone once again, before showing it to him once again. “Is this the document? I remember having to scan it for his acceptance paperwork…”
Can give more information at U.A.
“That’s the one we’re missing. Due to the nature of the document, we need you to deliver it personally. Are you available right now? I can drive us back and have this finished by the end of the day.”
“Yes, let me grab my purse. Oh, and a physical copy of the documents, right?”
Thank you. Phone might be compromised.
“That would be ideal, yes.”
He needed coffee to deal with this bullshit. If Shouta was understanding the situation correctly, someone was watching the house and possibly had some kind of logger on Midoriya-san’s phone. Midoriya-san was aware of this and needed his help to get out of the house. What a mess.
The drive back to UA was silent. Really, there wasn’t anything he could do until they entered the building. Thank god for Nedzu’s paranoia.
“We’re here. For the sake of security, you’re going to have to leave your phone at the front desk.”
“Of course!” Midoriya-san chirped. She gleefully dropped the phone into the Box of Containment. The mother drooped in relief as soon as the box was sealed and locked away. It couldn’t transmit any information to anyone in that state.
“Thank you so much—”
“—Why don’t we speak in a more secure area, Midoriya-san?”
“Yes, yes of course. We have a lot to discuss.”
“Do you know anything about why your son’s quirk has mutated recently?”
She furrowed her eyebrows. “Mutated…?”
“He has black tentacle-like things now.”
Against his expectations, Inko (she insisted upon it) slammed her head against the table. “Why couldn’t he be subtle about it…”
“Subtle about what?”
“You defended my son during the USJ incident, correct?” she said, once she straightened out.
Shouta took the non-sequitur in stride. “Yes.”
“Do you regret it?”
“No.”
“Look me in the eyes and tell me that you would do it again if presented with the same situation.” Her voice was laced with steel, gaze piercing straight through him.
“I would do it again if necessary.”
Inko seemed to collapse. “You’re an Underground Hero; you know the value of secrets. What I’m about to say can’t leave this room.”
“Of course.”
“Izuku’s father… I’m 95% sure that he’s the Scourge of Kamino.”
Fuck.
“I… I don’t think he knows that I know. I don’t know if Izuku knows. What I do know is that when he was four, we went to a doctor that was an associate of his, and I convinced him to tell Izuku that he was Quirkless—”
What.
“—Except I’m pretty sure Izuku got a version of his father’s quirk, but I don’t know if he knows that he has a version of his father’s quirk. He just came home one day with a strength quirk and I didn’t know how to bring it up. I mean, how do you ask your son if he just got the ability to take quirks.” She laughed, slightly hysterical. “He doesn’t trust me and I don’t know how to talk to him, especially with Hisashi bugging the house or having some kind of surveillance about us, because he’s always able to ask oddly-specific questions about Izuku’s health or my day and I have no other explanation for it.”
What.
“And—”
“—Inko-san, breathe. Panicking isn’t going to help anyone here.”
The woman took a deep breath and promptly burst into tears.
“How can I be such a terrible mother that my son won’t even confide in me about his secret quirk!” she wailed.
This was so outside of Shouta’s field of expertise that it wasn’t even funny.
“He doesn’t trust me with anything. How am I supposed to help if I can’t talk to him? What am I supposed to do? I don’t even know if he knows that he’s stealing quirks!”
“Inko-san, this room is soundproof. You can scream if you want?” He really didn’t know what to do in this situation.
Inko wailed even louder.
He gave it five minutes before he placed a cup of water in front of her. She was drying her tears with the sleeve of her cardigan, looking exhausted.
“Thank you.” Her voice was hoarse and her face was splotchy. “I… I needed that.”
“What do you need me to do?”
“You’re going to help?”
“Yes. Midoriya-kun is my responsibility until he graduates. I will do everything in my power to make sure that he gets there. This is a particularly troublesome situation, so I’m glad you reached out.”
Defaulting to a standard response was a great strategy while he tried to process everything he just heard.
She sniffled. “Thank you. This needs to stay a secret. For some reason, All Might is interested in my son.”
That wasn’t entirely surprising, given how the two interact with each other in class. No subtlety indeed.
“But I don’t know if he knows that Izuku is the son of his enemy. I need someone who knows who’s also on Izuku’s side. His life would be over if anyone found out.”
Shouta nodded. That was reasonable. There was no way to ask either of the two what they knew without arousing suspicion. He didn’t entirely trust Yagi to be impartial in the situation, either. He saw the Kamino fight and heard the rumors. The man was way too close to the situation to not do anything rash.
“You have my word that no one else will hear of this.” He tilted his head. “Actually, there’s a chance that Nedzu already knows.”
His phone chimed. Opening it, he sighed at the top message.
Of course I know. My lips are sealed.
“And he knows. Apparently, he’ll keep the secret too. Nedzu may be maliciously omniscient but he wouldn’t harm a student.”
Another chime.
Aptly put, Aizawa-kun! In other news, I have somehow ordered double of that nice coffee brand you like. The bag will be on your desk by the end of your meeting with Midoriya-san.
Damn rat.
“I, personally, wouldn’t worry about him.”
Inko looked lost. “All right, if you say so. Can you possibly… tutor Izuku? He’s awful at lying and has no subtlety. I think the perspective of an Underground Hero would help him there.”
Shouta nodded, already thinking about something similar himself. “Hiding in plain sight. Ironically, heroics is the best and worst field for your son right now.”
“Heroes are constantly in the spotlight, so if he’s subtle—”
“—No one should suspect a thing. By the time they do, he’d have a stellar record to mitigate any damage.”
“Thank you so much, Aizawa-san. I can never repay you for it.”
“I’m just doing my job, ma’am.”
The meeting wrapped up shortly after that, which was great, seeing as Shouta suddenly needed to devise a whole new training plan for Problem Child. Shinsou could use a new training partner…
Inko stepped into her house with a sigh. The meeting had gone well—too well. Eraserhead had fallen for it hook, line, and sinker.
She quickly dialed a familiar number.
“Hello, dear.” Hisashi’s voice was smooth as always, reception remarkably clear for someone supposedly stuck in Tartarus.
“I hate you.”
“Love you too, Inko-chan.”
“Did we have to trick his homeroom teacher, though?”
“The man will either push Izuku towards me with his suspicion or make him untouchable by the Commission. We win regardless. I couldn’t have done it without you, dear.”
“No one suspects the housewife,” she conceded.
“The part with putting All Might under suspicion was truly inspired. You did well.”
“And yet he’s still in the hero course. We both know I failed.”
“He did take after his uncle in that regard,” Hisashi said, ignoring her last statement, “He’ll need allies if he wants to survive.”
“And there’s always you.”
“And there’s always me,” Midoriya Hisashi, also known as All for One conceded, “I’m afraid that I need to go. The guards gave me the good stuff, which means that I can’t use Phone Call as well as I should. Stay safe, Inko.”
“I love you too.”
The call disconnected. Another one came in.
“Hey, Izu-kun!”
“Mom! I’m too old for that nickname. You’ll never guess…”
The grip on her phone tightened as she listened to Izuku talk about his “new” quirk. Moments like these reminded her of why she bothered at all. She’d do anything to keep her son safe.
Anything.