Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The moment when Izuku's life changes forever happens when he's seven years old. It's after a class day. Izuku wakes up after being hit for what must be the third time this week. He's tossing on the ground, stones digging uncomfortably into his bruised flesh until he sits up. He can't remember everything that happened, but routine makes his mind fill in the holes too easily. Then he begins to cry, and bends his knees to put his head between them because he is cold and in pain and he is scared and he just wants to know why other children are cruel to him.

(He knows, of course. It's all due to the damn diagnosis when he was four. But he still wants to know if he can do something to change it.)

In another universe, a more promising one, Izuku would finish venting a couple hours later and return home, broken and sobbing, but he would find his mother's dinner made and a note quickly scribbling about how much she loves him. Izuku would eat and after a good night's sleep he would feel, maybe not full, but a little more ready to face the world.

However, that does not happen here, because there is something different. Of course the change does not come the way he imagined. He does not come in the form of All Might, as he sometimes dreams of, rescuing him from his tormentors and taking him under his care as some kind of successor. It doesn't come with a hero who somehow recognizes his potential and decides to help him. It does not come from a vigilante or a villain. It also doesn't come with a drastic, but memorable moment, which will leave him awakening a hidden quirk.

He doesn't notice it at first because his eyes are covered in tears, his snot running down his face to the remains of his shirt scorched and with a little blood. His legs and stomach ache, and he can still smell the bile that he had been forced to spit out when one of his thugs hit him too hard. It is not until he notices the strange smell that it gives off in the air, and that gets into his lungs with the intensity of a vicious snake, that he raises his head.

And he sees a man, leaning against one of the few trees in the park. Neither of them says anything, although neither do they avoid the other's gaze. Izuku doesn't know how much will happen, but at some point his tears begin to diminish until they are nothing more than little hiccups. Then the man nods, a little shake of the head that would have gone unnoticed if he hadn't been staring at him, before taking another drag on the cigarette he is holding in one hand.

Ah, that's where the smell was, he thinks with some detachment. Now that the discomfort of the situation has subsided it hits him. He quickly looks away, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. The man lets out an amused snort that only makes him roll more.

He wonders if the man saw him being beaten. It would not be the first time that an adult was relegated to the role of observer, not when he was the one who was beaten. It was just one of the many things he had grown used to since she was four. God why couldn't he have a quiet afternoon?

"Number they did with you there, boy," he says, confirming his thoughts. The man's voice is raspy but not as raspy as Izuku would have imagined from a smoker. So he saw it. The thought makes her stomach churn and her arms press harder against her legs, not knowing how to respond. After a while he hears some footsteps against the ground.

“Do you have something to clean yourself?”

The question catches him off guard. Most adults tell him to stop teasing other children or to let him go once they notice that he is not dead. This man, on the other hand, takes another couple of steps in his direction.

“Hey, I asked you a question.”

“Uh? N-no” he replies, a harsh cough cutting through the words.

It's a bit strange for him to have a conversation again. Some time ago his classmates noticed that he gets more nervous when everyone seems to ignore him, so it has become a kind of game. Some days they won't stop staring at him and whispering, and other days they'll pretend he doesn't exist and even go so far as to get his desk out of the living room.

This time Izuku has not spoken to anyone for five days. Or hardly speaking to anyone, actually, because he still talks to his mother when they sit down to eat after their shifts. But Inko has been taking more and more shifts for a year now, making it difficult for any kind of interaction between the two beyond good morning and routine questions about how he is doing in school (which Izuku dodges anyway). . Five days is nowhere near the longest the game has lasted, but each time it happens Izuku becomes so distracted that even his mutterings turn to nothing more than gibberish.

Even so, he looks for a way to lengthen his answer (lengthen the conversation, lengthen the moment when he knows that he still exists)

"B-but I'm fine!"

The man looks at him, studying his scrapes and burns, one eyebrow raised in disbelief.

"If you consider that to be fine, I don't want to know what is bad for you." Izuku tries to speak, but the man dismisses it by waving his hand. “Stay here, I'll go get something to clean those wounds before they get infected”.

 The man leaves before he can try to stop him. Minutes pass and Izuku wonders if in fact the man had abandoned him like the rest and if it would not be better to return home, when he hears new footsteps and notices the man, who now approaches with his arms carrying a couple of bags. He no longer carries the cigarette.

He doesn't ask or give a warning before taking Izuku's arm and starting to disinfect it. Add water and clean with alcohol. Izuku hisses and the man mutters an apology. He's not as soft as his mother, but he's not as tough as the school nurses, either. He finishes quickly and then tosses him a bag of plasters and a burn cream.

"I think you know how to take care of the rest," he says.

“Thanks” Izuku mutters.

They are silent once more. They're both sitting on the ground now, Izuku a little less coiled than before and the man leaning forward as he slams against his own leg in a beat he doesn't recognize. After a while he lets out another sigh (Izuku wonders if it's a learned habit of smoking)

“Why did they hit you? I only saw when they were leaving, so I did not listen to what they were saying, although they seemed angry, especially that blond idiot”.

"Kaachan is not a- a-!"

“An idiot, you can say it boy, it's not a bad word. But that's not what matters, if he's not an idiot, why did he hit you?”

Izuku hesitates. Should tell him? This is the first time Izuku has met someone who doesn't know or finds out quickly, would it be okay if he lied? but then remember that heroes don't lie and that it wouldn't be fair for man to stay when he doesn't know how useless and strange Izuku is. So he says it and lowers his head, still can't help but raise it again when the man, instead of getting up, lets out a snort.

"I should have imagined it," he says, and he doesn't sound surprised. Izuku is confused but doesn't question it, too nervous that the man will change his mind at any moment and walk away. And he leaves, but some time later, when the sun begins to set.

“You should go home, boy”.

Izuku hadn't noticed the passage of time, so he jumped up, grimacing as he stretched out some of his wounds. He gathers up his things, including band-aids and cream, and thanks the man who is still sitting on the ground again.

"No problem," he says. And isn't that the kindest thing they've been to Izuku in months? He feels like he may start to cry so he turns around, unwilling to try his luck. The man speaks again, although he seems a bit uncomfortable. “My name is Han, by the way. Uh. I spend a lot in this park, in case you know, in case you ever need help with injuries uh you know where to find me”

This time Izuku cries. Cry because that's too much. He leaves there fast, but he keeps thinking about Han and his kind words (even if the tone was pretty flat, now that he thinks about it). Still, Han is still a stranger and his mom has warned him a lot about strangers. And since he does not want to worry her, he decides not to go near the park unless it is totally necessary.

…

His resolution lasts two days. Izuku is a seven-year-old boy who feels sad and tired, but mostly, lonely. Alone, because no one wants to be his friend; alone, because Kaachan is meaner than usual; alone, because he hardly sees his mom lately and sometimes he just wants someone to hug him

So he goes to the park and sees Han, who is gesturing with his head for him to come over to the table where he is sitting. They do not speak much, not that day or the following, but Izuku does not care much, he takes the opportunity to do his homework and sometimes to write in his hero books. It's on one of those times that Han asks him what he's doing and Izuku, half in fear and half in expectation, tells him.

Han in response makes an interested sound and nothing else, but from then on his afternoons are spent doing homework and monologue on any new quirk he finds, with a couple of contributions from the older man. They never talk about Izuku's state and for some strange reason Han doesn't talk about his either.

(Izuku has the suspicion that he is a quirk called a villain or a weak one, not that Izuku knows much about that, because for him all quirks are incredible, but he does not push).

As time progresses it becomes a kind of routine. Sometimes Han brings little cakes that he claims to bake himself, and Izuku returns the favor by studying subjects that interest man, dissecting quirk away from heroes, and delving deeper into law and related matters. Sometimes Han arrives stained with oil and this is how Izuku discovers that the man has a workshop, he also hears him curse more and be quite cynical with the news of heroes. But none of that makes their afternoons any less great.

Days pass and Izuku begins to feel more and more comfortable with the man. Han is different from the other adults he has met, he does not treat him as fragile or treat him with contempt. In fact, he seems quite interested in what he has to say and lets him ramble for hours each time they meet.

Izuku believes that he has never been happier in his life, but immediately clears the thought because that would not be fair to his mother (his mother, to whom he has not said a word about his new friend and towards whom he has heard directed too much criticism from Han muttered and at a volume Izuku was sure he shouldn't have been able to hear).

However all good things must come to an end, or so he thinks one afternoon when he tries to rush out of school only for Kaachan to stop him and drag him to the back where his other friends (Han calls them bullies) already expected.

“You think you are very smart, Deku?”

“Ka-kaachan?”

“Shut up, stupid Deku! Don't try to lie to me! We've all noticed the damn look on your face in the last few days. Are you making fun of me?” Kaachan growls, explosions forming in the palms of his hands furiously. Izuku backs away but the boy with the stretchable fingers holds him fast so he can't move.

Izuku doesn't know what to do. Why would Kaachan ever think he was making fun of him? Do not understand! He hasn't done anything different for the past few weeks other than- oh. Oh, Izuku has been smiling more, maybe Kaachan thought he was laughing at him? That makes sense, the other kids also laugh at Izuku sometimes and it hurts and makes him sad, but sometimes it also makes him angry and he feels like hitting them. Not that Izuku did it! Even so, he could understand Kaachan and tries to tell him: to tell him that he was not laughing at him, to tell him that he would never do it because he admires him too much, because he knows what it feels like to be on the receiving end of mocking stares.

“Don't compare me to you, you useless Deku!” he yells and lets a couple of explosions explode against his shoulders. Izuku falls, tears already running down his cheeks “And stop lying to me, damn it! I know you like to make fun of me!”

“That's not true Kaachan!”

“So what is it?” said one of the others “Did you find a friend?” The question comes out in a tone that makes Izuku's stomach twist, as if they can't believe that someone wants to spend their time with a Deku like him.

(He ignores the part of him that doesn't believe it either and wonders if it's all part of a dream or if he's finally lost his mind like his teachers always say, imagining Han because he's feeling too lonely.)

Izuku can't help but wince as everyone laughs. Kaachan notices it, of course and immediately explodes his hands, thus silencing the rest.

“What was that nerd? Did you get a friend?

Now, Izuku should have known better, he should have recognized that what shone in the blond's eyes was not curiosity but another kind of fury, more fiery, more lethal, surrounded by a feeling of wanting to crush everything that stood in the way. But maybe he was too tired of shivering on his knees all the time or maybe his instincts for self-preservation were already screwed up by this point, as he decided, for once, to shut up his instincts that scream that it's a trap. Instead Izuku smiles, big and bright, and stands up.

“Yes! His name is Han and he is super cool and he has this big scar all over his face and sometimes he brings cakes that he says he cooks himself and they are delicious and I met him in the park and he is super friendly although he does not talk much and knows a lot about heroes too, which makes it even cooler, although he still hasn't told me who his favorite hero is-” Izuku doesn't finish speaking before he's interrupted by another explosion, this time directed at his face. Screams and falls again. The skin on his cheek burns and can feel the burning behind his eyes again. How much more will he cry today?

"I don't care, you fucking Deku! You are nothing but a loser with no quirks! I bet your friend” he spat the word like it was poison “doesn't even know.”

And because Izuku has shown that he does not know when to let it be, he responds:

"Of course you know, and you say he doesn't care!" He hadn't actually said it, but it was implicit in his actions, right?

But that only seems to infuriate Kaachan more and the next thing he knows is that he is tossing in the floor, his uniform and backpack again turned into a collage of burns and broken parts that he is already used to. He knows his nose is bleeding and his foot hurts in a way that brings more tears to his eyes. Kaachan's friends leave laughing, but the blonde stays behind. Both boys look at each other and for a second Izuku is reminded of the time he met Han, but where the man's eyes are mostly calm, Kaachan's burns differently. And he only shows it when he throws one last kick at his backpack, before turning around, grinning wickedly in his direction.

“I bet he's only with you because he hurts you, that or he's stupid”

"Han is not stupid!"

Kaachan shrugs disinterestedly.

“I don't care, if he's not stupid then he'll go away when you start to bore him. After all, you're just a useless Deku” And then he leaves without looking back, and Izuku just stands there, lying in a pool of his own blood, wondering if Kaachan is right.

That afternoon he does not appear in the park, but trudges home, trying to ignore the looks of pity and contempt that follow him. He then hides in his room so her mother doesn't have to worry about his injuries when she returns at night.

Doubts echo in his head for the next few days. Kaachan increases his teasing to the point that now everyone at the school knows that he has a new friend. Now everyone repeats the same thing that Kaachan said, whispering loudly for him to hear them. Izuku lasts three more days and then returns to the park.

At first, when he finds the park empty, he feels pain because he thinks that Kaachan and the rest were right and Han had gotten bored of him (he also feels relief because he prefers to be disappointed now than when he has already become too attached. Not that he has not already done so. ). But when he takes a closer look he notices a figure leaning on the same tree as the first time.

Izuku doesn't notice when he starts to run but he soon feels his body crash against the man's torso, who staggers at the sudden embrace, his cigarette briefly touching the exposed part of Izuku's neck before he drops it, scared of hurting him. Izuku doesn't care, he's used to burns, but that doesn't stop the man from grabbing him by the shoulders and checking him for any marks.

“What were you thinking about scaring me like that?!” He scolds, his smoke breath makes him wrinkle his nose “do you want to burn yourself? If I hadn't recognized you, I could have hit you!”

Izuku remembers, perhaps a little late, that Han has never felt comfortable from physical contact. He walks away, saddened once more. He begins to fiddle with his shirt in an attempt to avoid the man's eyes when he hears him sigh. Stupid Deku, can't he do anything right? Now Han will leave it just like Kaachan said and ...

Another sigh, this time followed by hands resting on his arms, successfully pulling him out of his ramblings.

“What did I tell you about calling you Deku?”

“Wh-not do it?”

Han nods, crouching down to be level with him, much like he had done the first time, in that same park. Izuku has to bite his lips hard so as not to start tearing. The man looks at him, studying his eyes with an intensity similar to what Izuku uses when he sees interesting quirks, only in a less fanatical way. It almost seems to be getting into Izuku's mind.

Maybe that's his quirk?

They stay that way a little longer until Han seems to find what he's looking for. He lets go of it, rising once more to his full height and making his back creak.

"Well," he says, squashing the discarded cigarette down well and pulling another and a lighter from his shirt pocket. “Let's go then.”

Izuku's brain is still confused, so he doesn't understand what the man means.

“Where?”

“To sit down, I am not going to stay up all afternoon and you have to tell me about what you have been doing these days. I heard that they are considering a law against discrimination of mutant quirks, but that it has not been receiving as much support as they hoped.”

Izuku follows him, listening to the man give his ideas until they arrive at his usual table, a little graffiti-stained concrete thing that has seen better days. Soon Izuku also gets caught up in the topic and the two argue about the law and types of quirks until late in the afternoon when Izuku must leave so as not to worry his mother.

For the first time in days Izuku feels the lightness in his steps again, a shy smile peeking across his lips. However, a good day is not enough to erase all the doubts that have been cooking for longer than he thinks. So the next day when the kids laugh at him and stain his desk Izuku wonders again if it's all some kind of huge joke.

That afternoon he meets Han, already sitting in his place and at least three cigarettes around him (Izuku has never had the courage to tell him that he doesn't like the smell, lest he bother his friend by complaining). This time the man sees it coming from before, so he gives him one of his characteristic nods.

Izuku tries to smile, but thinks it comes out more like a grimace. Han doesn't ask, just as he hadn't asked about why he'd missed so many days, but instead makes room for him at the table and lets him talk.

An hour goes by, then two and Izuku can't take it anymore. He turns to Han, his hands shaking but his eyes shining with determination. The man sees it and lets the smoke escape in a gentle exhale.

"Ask," he says.

Izuku breathes, tries to steel himself, and speaks.

“Why?” It doesn't go the way you want, the rest of the question gets stuck in a lump in his throat and can't go on. All the bravery he had been gathering during the morning escapes from him like a punctured balloon. His voice is ragged, full of all the doubts that he cannot put into words. Why are you so nice? Why don't you scold me when I mumble? Why are you bringing me cakes and helping me with my wounds? Why do you seem to be the only person other than Mom who likes me? However, the words do not come out and the questions remain unspoken.

Still Han looks at him like he knows, like he can somehow hear Izuku say everything he wants and more. He centers his eyes, a dull dark brown but too deep, on Izuku's bright greens. And then he says, in a voice so low and calm as he has never heard, the words that will seal the fate of this world.

“Because quirkless people have to stay together.”

Chapter Text

Two months after meeting Han for the first time Izuku decides he is his best friend. Better than Kaachan, at least, and a little better than his own mother, whom he hasn't seen in two weeks.

And it's not just because Han doesn't have quirks (which is still surprising and a little confusing because even though Han is like him he's also not a useless Deku that everyone makes fun of), but because Han is cool in so many ways.

First, Han never treats him like a fool. When Izuku doesn't know something the man always makes sure to explain everything to him in short and concise words, maybe a bit more blunt than he should but still he's still infinitely better than his teachers who ignore him because they think he doesn't have the mental capabilities to learn.

Second, Han is kind. Not kind in the conventional sense. Han doesn't give hugs or tell him he loves him, instead Han pats him on the head and makes sure he drinks water every day and treats his wounds without too many questions.

And when he fixes him Han never looks at him with pity. Izuku had never realized how much those kinds of looks bothered him until he stopped getting them. It's liberating, in a sense. It makes him feel a little more like a normal kid and not someone who needs to be taken care of.

“Boy, hand me the key," the husky voice says and Izuku jumps up to fetch the tool.  

They are at Han's work, a small vehicle shop just a few blocks from the park. They've been meeting there for a couple of days, after Kaachan and his friends decided that the park was their new favorite place to play. Han had looked a little annoyed at being moved but had directed Izuku to their new meeting spot without a word.

“What are you doing?” He asked, leaning a little over the open hood of the car.

“Fixing the engine on this thing. Its idiot owner melted it and now it won't start.

Izuku hums as if he understands. Han lets out a frustrated sound and leaves the key on the table Izuku was working on.

“How are you doing with your homework?” he says. The boy appreciates the effort the older boy puts into paying attention to him even though he knows Han sucks at idle chatter.

“Well, I think. At first I had a hard time understanding how to solve this problem but I checked the book before I came and I can now. Nakamura sensei said he was too busy to explain to me in the morning, which is partly true because Yishido and Tsubasuya have a hard time with math, but then I saw him reading the paper. Maybe he forgot, though.”

Han lets out a laugh that is anything but happy. “Your teachers suck, kid.”

Izuku blushes and starts mumbling trying to defend his sensei but Han dismisses him with a wave of his hand.

“Don't try to deny it, I know they lower your grades and barely put any effort into teaching you.”

It's true. Izuku knows it's true, but it still hurts to admit it. The man seems to know it because instead of continuing to insist, he picks up his notebook and examines it.

“I don't see anything wrong, although if I were you I would check exercise two.”

The boy nods and hurries to check the exercise. As Han indicated, the answer was wrong because he ate a number. He quickly fixes it, only to feel a couple of pats on his hair.

“It's been a couple of hours, kid. Have some water and then go straight home. Didn't you say your mom was cooking today?”

“I almost forgot!” he squeaks. He lunges for his backpack to pull out the water bottle, which he empties in front of Han's watchful eye, then packs up his things and runs for the door shouting a goodbye.

“Don't stop to look for hero fights!” he hears shouted at him but is already too far away to respond.

He arrives home a few minutes later. He enters and leaves his shoes. He calls out a greeting but doesn't expect a response, so he is surprised when he hears his mother's voice greet him.

 “Izuku!” she says, coming out of the kitchen and wrapping him in a soft hug. They stay like that for a couple of seconds before they both separate, watery smiles on their faces.

“Mommy! You got off work early? Why didn't you tell me?”

“I wanted to surprise you, I have good news but I'll tell you while we eat. Go take a bath and then come downstairs, will you?” Izuku nods, but before he can get too far away his mother's voice stops him “Uh Izuku? Why are your sleeves full of oil?”

The boy frowns, confused, but still checks his clothes. He sees the huge stain on the fabric and feels himself blushing. He must have leaned on something where Han, upps. It's not something he can tell Mom, because Mom doesn't know about Han and if he tells her he has a suspicion she won't agree with him spending his evenings with an unknown adult in her workshop.

And if she doesn't agree she won't let Izuku go anymore. Izuku likes Han's workshop, in Han's workshop he feels relaxed because he doesn't have to hide from the bullies and he doesn't have to hide his wounds for the sake of man. Izuku feels safe there and at that moment he discovers that selfishly he can't give that up.

Then Izuku does something that is not worthy of a hero. Izuku lies.

“Ah, it's just that today I was playing with some friends near a workshop, I must have gotten dirty there.”

Inko studies him for a moment. She takes note of his messy hair, the bandages peeking out from his wrists and his uniform, wrinkled and dirty and lets out a sigh.

“Set it aside so I can wash it tonight and be more careful next time. Stains like that are not easy to remove.”

Izuku nods and runs to his room. He knows his mom thinks he was pushed by the other kids again and that's why he's dirty; but for once he doesn't care, instead he feels a kind of relief run through his body.

It doesn't take him more than a few minutes to shower and change clothes. When he comes downstairs his mom has just finished setting the table and they both sit down, thank each other and eat in silence.

He is a little curious as to what Mom wanted to tell him. It could be anything from taking a vacation to a new All Might figure. However, he dismisses those theories as more time passes.

Why isn't his mom talking, could it be something bad? He hadn't noticed at first, too excited to see his mom again after several days, but now that the excitement has subsided he can notice the little gestures she makes.

She's nervous, he recognizes by the way she squeezes her chopsticks and in how her eyes keep traveling from Izuku to her plate and the table. Her nerves make Izuku himself begin to feel anxious.

Should he ask, will Mom say something bad to him, did he do something wrong, did he somehow discover her friendship with Han and doesn't know how to tell her that she can't see him anymore, is she upset because she hasn't touched the supplies in the medicine cabinet in several weeks, it's not that she doesn't have any injuries! It's just that Han uses his own supplies every time she sees him so she doesn't need to use up the supplies at home anymore. Was that how mom found out?

His thoughts start to spiral away, but luckily for him Inko decides it's the perfect time to talk.

“Izuku, honey. There's something I have to tell you.”

“What is it, Mom? -she asks. She can feel her heart pounding against her ribs. He lowers his hands so you don't notice how much they're shaking.”

“Well, uh, my boss called me this morning and uh, said he was very pleased with my progress so I may be getting a promotion.”

“That's great, Mom!” He pushes away from the table and puts his arms around her for the second time that day. She lets out a delighted laugh and fiddles with her curls.

“Yeah, yeah, it's pretty good, and the best part is that he offered me to stay in the office dorms so we can save more and- Izuku? What 's wrong?”

Time stands still. Her mind repeats Mom's words like a ruined tape recorder.

What?

“Bedrooms?”

“Uh? Oh! Yeah, you know how my work is a couple of hours away here, so my boss has offered a room in the office.”

“We're moving in?” Izuku feels her stomach drop. Inko notices, of course, because she hesitates, biting her lip in a nervous gesture Izuku learned to imitate when he was younger.

“Well... I haven't decided yet, I, I don't know, uh, the rooms are small and you'd have to change schools... but I can't leave you alone, you're still too little…”

Izuku lets her ramble on, too busy thinking about Han and how she would never see him again. Han, the one person Izuku didn't feel physically or emotionally sore with. But then his brain processes some of his mother's ramblings. She doesn't know how much space, but she recognizes that most of her doubts are not on how to keep Izuku from being alone, but on what to do if she needs to take him with her.

For the second time that night Izuku feels pulled out of his comfort zone, his racing heart skipping a beat so that he feels himself in a kind of loop as his body tries to make up for that lost second, that drop of a thousand feet in an instant.

“Mom…” he whispers, but in his small apartment it's loud enough for his mother to stop herself from mumbling. She gives him a nervous look, which only increases when Izuku breaks from her embrace and steps back a few paces.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“You…” she stops because what she was about to say wasn't a question she could voice out loud without breaking down, instead she swallows, trying to work up the courage and starts again “do we have to leave together?”

Inko blinks, then lets out a sigh that sounds like relief and makes Izuku's skin crawl.

“Well, you could. Technically children aren't allowed in the dorms, but I'm sure if I explained to my boss your special situation he might allow me to take you.”

Special situation, Izuku was sure he wasn't referring to being a seven year old whose father disappeared when he turned four and more to him not having a quirk. And yet his mom says it as if it was an option she hadn't considered too much, as if she had already decided that Izuku would stay at home while she worked and come home even less than he did now.

“Ah," she says.

“But you can stay if you want to!” she hastens to clarify, misunderstanding Izuku's expression. “It will be a bit difficult and since you are still a child you can't stay alone all the time. Maybe I can ask Mrs. Mashima to keep an eye on you and Mitsuki to prepare food for you so you don't have to cook. And it would only be for a few days, until I come back on weekends. And then you wouldn't have to leave your school and you could still see your friends.”

Izuku hears her ramble for a few minutes. He squashes the urge to remove his hands from where Inko holds them and instead tries to count the stitches on his mom's shirt. She nods and makes affirming noises in the right places and gives a couple of ideas she knows she won't follow through on "I could walk home with Kaachan", "the food at school isn't bad" or "I could go review with some classmates".

By the end of dinner Inko is excited and talks about her new position and how satisfying it feels to have her work recognized and how she was getting closer and closer to achieving her dream. They both clear the table together and take turns rinsing the dishes. After putting everything away they hug one last time and wish each other good night.

“Izuku," Mom calls, stopping him at the kitchen door, much like only a few hours ago when she called him about the grease stain. The boy turns, keeping a calm expression.

“Yes, Mom?”

“I love you," he says and Izuku knows inside him that it's true. No matter what is going on, there are things that are immovable and one of those is that his mom loves him.

“I love you too," he replies and then hides a smile that tastes like a lie.

Once in the safety of his room Izuku lets out a sigh, changes into his All Might pajamas and plops down on the bed without much encouragement. He feels empty in a way he hasn't felt in months. He doesn't want to think. Luckily for him sleep comes soon enough and he is plunged into darkness.

...

The next afternoon Izuku spends time in Han's workshop. He immediately feels the weight on his shoulders lift a little as he walks through the door and sees his friend leaning over a new car, this one in a black with red grains, while humming an English song that he's sure has more curses than normal words.

“I was wondering when you were coming," he greets him without turning around. Han always seems to know when Izuku is around no matter how quiet he is. “I heard there was a fight in a few streets around here a while ago, they say there was this hero, what was his name? Past Micro? Present Big?”

“Present Mic!” scream, unable to believe he had missed a fight of one of his favorite heroes “Aw, I didn't see him.”

“Uhm, that one. I didn't see much of the news but apparently he beat the villain, breaking several windows in the process.”

“Are you sure it was Present Mic?” he questions, holding his chin. Until he sees the look Han gives him and tries to clear his head by waving his hands in front of him, "I'm not saying he's lying! It's just that Present Mic is always very careful not to damage the streets and he's pretty good at controlling his quirk, and the news is strange to me and you might have the wrong hero, I'm not saying you do, but there's a chance because you always confuse names and that's okay, not everyone knows all the heroes and I know you don't like them and you have more important things to do than memorizing all the heroes in the top fifty and…”

“I may have been wrong," Han agrees, effectively cutting off his ramblings, "but I may not have. And if I didn't, what do you think of the hero's damaging the street?”

“Well…” That's not the first time Han has raised a question critical of heroes. He does it quite a bit, actually, though Izuku suspects he tries to hold back around him, "I think he had a bad day.”

“A bad day?” sounds funny, but more in the sense of imagining a hilarious scenario than teasing Izuku.

“Yes, a bad day," he repeats more firmly. “He's a good hero, but maybe heroes have bad days too and that's why he ended up damaging something when he could have avoided it. Present Mic has a great control over his quirk.”

“So what if he did it for publicity?”

“What?”

“Everyone knows that the more collateral damage there is, as long as it doesn't cause a huge loss of money or deaths, it's taken more as a sign of how intense or exciting the battle was.”

Izuku had never thought about it, but now that he considered it he could see how that idea could be right. Still, they were talking about Present Mic, the hero who once cried when a fan came up to him with his kitten and said he had named it after him. No matter how commercial Han thought the hero's career was, Izuku was sure that Present Mic wasn't like that. And he tells him so.

Han let out a long sigh and shakes his head.

“You idealize heroes too much, kid. You put too much faith in them, someday they'll let you down and then where will you be?”

That won't happen, his mind answers immediately, but then he remembers his mother and how a part of him feels half abandoned. I don't know, it resonates again. Izuku is frightened that he doesn't know. 

A little later they change the subject and the day continues. For a couple of hours he tries his best to act normal because he knows Han will be upset if he finds out about their new living arrangements. They've never argued about anything, but Izuku has heard enough disparaging remarks towards the adults in his life in general that his mind already gets an idea of where the conversation would go.

They say goodbye a little later than usual and meet again every afternoon after school as usual. There are a couple of occasions where Izuku opens his mouth with the intention of telling Han how he feels but then he takes it back.

There is no point in burdening Han with his problems, he reasons and convinces himself that everything is fine. He also reasons that he is just being paranoid when he begins to notice concern in his friend's looks. After all, how could the man know what is going on in his house?

...

Inko leaves at the end of that week. She packs her clothes for a little more than five days and a picture frame of them together. He watches her get ready from his place in the living room. When the time comes he helps her load her things into the company vehicle. She hugs and kisses him with tears in her eyes and makes him promise to be good and listen to Mrs. Mashima.

Izuku nods and cries a little. He utters no words other than monosyllables and an "I love you" at the end that Inko returns in a watery voice. He watches her leave from the doorway of her apartment building, the gaze of a couple of tenants burning into his back. Still he stands there until he can no longer see the car and only then does he return to his apartment, ignoring the whispers he leaves at the front desk.

He keeps a calm, if not a little sad face. It is not until he has closed the door and trespassed through the rest of his house to his own room that Izuku allows himself to cry, really cry. Fat tears roll down her cheeks, her legs shaking before she falls to the floor, her teeth digging into the knuckles of her right hand in an attempt to quiet her moans.

She misses her mom. He needs her, wants her hugs, wants to spend more time with her. His body begins to spasm and Izuku hugs his knees with the side of his body against the ground. He feels the cold bite into his skin but he doesn't care. He cries and screams and begs for his mom.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Mommy. Mom, I'm sorry.”

Izuku doesn't know why he's asking for forgiveness, but it feels appropriate. Maybe it's because of the ugly thoughts he's been holding in for the week, maybe it's because he feels he doesn't value his mother's efforts, maybe it's because it hurts, it hurts and Izuku doesn't know any other way to make the pain stop than to apologize.

A part of his mind wonders if he's not being dramatic, crying for his mom when it hasn't even been an hour since she left. And it's not like his mom is going away forever. She'll actually come back on weekends and had promised to call every night.

But for once Izuku doesn't care if he's being logical or not. He feels he has the right to cry. He needs to. He feels that if he doesn't vent he will explode. He has too many emotions in his head. His chest hurts, he clenches his shirt into a fist tightly. He tries to make himself smaller. He feels lonely, he wants comfort. There is also something much deeper inside him, an echo, perhaps, something that tastes like a kind of rage and sadness that his seven-year-old mind cannot fully comprehend. 

"People with quirk can't understand us. They feel uncomfortable around us and even those who claim to love us will leave after a while" Izuku remembers the words Han had blurted out a few days ago as he lay under a red car and Izuku scribbled in his newest analysis notebook. At first he had tried to refute because he knew his mom only worked so many shifts because the money his dad sent wasn't enough.

Now, however, he let the seed of doubt plant itself in him and grow. Would it be true? The thought of his mother being close to abandoning him suddenly comes to him, hitting his mind with the power of an All Might Detroit Smash. He lets out a sort of pitiful shriek.

No, it can't be true. Mom loves him, right? Mom only left because she had to leave. She said so, she said with that promotion she'd earn more and in a few years she'd have enough to take a little more time to be with him. Mom wouldn't lie, would she. But his naughty mind sends him images of the last few days: his mom humming as she packs, his mom's eyes sparkling with joy like they haven't in years; his mom, who didn't even turn her head once she was in the car.

Izuku is seven years old and cries for his mom and himself. He squeezes his chest and pulls at his hair because he doesn't understand what he feels beyond the pain and injustice. His heart is in a kind of mourning at that moment and he doesn't know if he will be able to pull himself together.

He doesn't know how long it takes before he stops crying, but when he does he feels tired. The afternoon passes and Izuku does not leave his place on the floor. He doesn't move, doesn't talk, doesn't eat. As expected, Mrs. Mashima doesn't even knock on the door to ask how he is. She doesn't come. Izuku lets his breathing calm down until he falls asleep.

Chapter Text

“Get out of my way, you stupid Deku.”

Izuku does as Kaachan tells him, squealing when he doesn't notice the foot reaching out in his direction and tripping him until he ends up sitting on the ground. All around him the children giggle and even the teacher seems to be holding back a laugh.

“Sorry," he mutters and hurries to finish gathering his things, then hurries out, taking special care not to bump into anyone. He never overstays his welcome in the classroom, if he does he is more likely to run into bullies.

He walks briskly through the halls. He feels the tension in his shoulders and doesn't let go until he's far enough away that he can no longer see his school building. Then he relaxes his pace and releases the death grip he had on the straps of his backpack.

It had been several months since his mom had received the promotion. Izuku had had a hard time adjusting for the first few days but then fell back into the routine. Perhaps it was fortunate that even before he hadn't seen too much of his mother, because now the only thing that has changed is that he no longer feels her presence at night and instead is left alone in the darkness of his small apartment.

Izuku turns a corner, aware of how the streets in that area are a bit emptier than the ones he just left behind. They are also dirtier and there is graffiti on the walls. The first time he had walked alone to the shop he had felt intimidated, too afraid that someone with bad intentions would approach him. Now, having walked the same path hundreds of times, Izuku feels a kind of liberation in those all-too-silent streets.

Han's garage is a three-story building with dilapidated paint and an equally neglected sign advertising a simple "Vehicle Garage"; despite its appearance Izuku has noticed that the garage is always occupied by two or more cars. Once he had even heard from one of the customers who sometimes stayed to watch the overhaul that Han's place was quite sought after in various circles.

Izuku was glad his friend was doing so well, especially since the man kept insisting on buying new medical supplies every time he came in with new scratches, which happened more than a few times each week. He also likes the garage: it's spacious and filled with pictures of classic cars that Izuku feels like he's in some kind of magazine a thousand years ago.

Amid these thoughts he doesn't notice the less than ten minutes it takes to reach his destination. Han, lying on the ruined couch in the corner, greets him with a lazy hand gesture. He has a half-finished cigarette in the other and takes a long drag as the boy approaches.

“No problems today?” he asks, though he doesn't wait for an answer, but looks around for signs of scratches or wounds. Izuku knows he won't find much, today has been a good day. The sleeves of his uniform are a little dirty from when some older kids had cornered him in the morning, but aside from a couple of bruises that don't hurt too much, he's fine.

He knows he's been lucky lately. The weeks after his mom left had been especially hard because somehow his goons had gotten wind of how he had no one waiting for him at home and so they could be even less careful of wounds than usual.

Han had been livid when Izuku had revealed that to him between hiccups while fixing a particularly deep cut on his arm. That was how the man had also found out about his mother, though he admitted he had his suspicions.

"Such is the life of the quirkless" he had said and then proceeded to remain silent until he had finished. Izuku wonders if anyone had ever abandoned Han the way they all seem to leave him. It's a strange and scary thought so he gives it up quickly.

Since then it had become almost routine for Han to check for new injuries. Izuku leaves him, because there's no point in hiding them from the man he understands, especially now that Izuku spends almost twice as much time as he used to in the workshop. If there was any advantage to his mother no longer being at home, it was that Izuku didn't have to worry about her arriving early and finding him outside.

Sure, he still has to take care of the daily calls they make, but he just has to tell her that he was too tired for a video call and any noise from the workshop could be passed off as the TV.

Izuku doesn't know at what point he had gotten so good at lying, but it wasn't like those lies were going to hurt anyone right? Izuku doesn't do it out of malice, he just wants to spend time in his safe place.

The snap of fingers in front of his eyes manage to snap him out of his thoughts. He notices Han looking at him and feels his face flush with embarrassment. He hates to space out like this, his teachers say he's rude for getting distracted and not paying attention. Han says nothing, of course, and instead throws him a bottle of water which Izuku promptly drinks. Han has a strange obsession with everyone being hydrated, but it's nothing bad or annoying and Izuku is happy to oblige if it means it will make his friend happy.

As he drinks he spies Han out of the corner of his eye. He takes note of his more pronounced dark circles under his eyes, the way his body sprawls across the worn couch, the rhythmic tapping of his leg and the almost double quickness with which he smokes his cigarette.

He's tempted to ask him if he's okay when he recognizes all the symptoms as nervous gestures, but the past few months have taught Izuku that his friend doesn't appreciate being called out on his problems, and that at best he'll get a quick dismissal for his concerns and at worst he'll get a scowl and a semi-hurtful snide remark about meddlesome vermin with overzealous dreams.

It's a good while before either of them say anything; Izuku takes the opportunity to sit at his usual table, pulling out his list of homework and extra assignments that some of his teachers allow him to do when his classmates mess up their assignments. It's only two teachers and the projects they leave are the kind that should be done in at least a week and not the one day they give him, but UA only accepts the best and can't afford to drop his grades, so he ignores the pain in his wrist, the tiredness in his eyes and continues working.

He doesn't realize he has fallen asleep until he is awakened by a couple of voices. At first he doesn't recognize them, so he instinctively freezes, but before long he hears Han's distinctive tone. He feels the cracked wood of his workbench under his arms and the sheets he was doing his homework on. He has the familiar weight of one of Han's best-preserved jackets on his shoulders, which brings a small smile to his face.

He thinks about retiring, perhaps munching on the apple he keeps in his backpack before heading home (maybe convince Han to accompany him part of the way if it's already too late), especially since if there's a client his friend will most likely have to work all night. However, something, perhaps curiosity as to why a client would be so late on a Wednesday, keeps him from raising his head and announcing his return from the dream world.

The part of his mind that still behaves like the eight-year-old he is, wants to smile brightly at a little mischief. Izuku knows that if Han was worried he would never have let the client talk to him near where he slept; if there was one thing Han had besides being a grump when he was stressed out it was paranoid tendencies that could rival those of his own teachers who tried to get him to "not cheat on tests because there was no way a quirky kid would get better grades than a kid with a mental quirk" (never mind that it only happened once before Isamura-kun moved out of town).

Snapping out of those thoughts, Izuku refocuses on the conversation. Both men (he imagines that the husky voice answering Han's is a man) speak between coherent sentences and whispers. Izuku can't understand it all, at least until the stranger seems to have had enough and raises his voice a little.

“But Han, this deal could be good for business!” he says. Izuku hears a kind of sound between amused and irritated coming from his friend. From the volume he calculates that they are several steps away from him, but not yet on the other side of the store, maybe near that blue Lexus whose lights are out?

“No," Han answers immediately, calmer than the other but much colder. You know my policy, Marcus, and the rest know it too, if I start taking too much money, the deals will be broken and we'll be lost.

“But!”

“Let's say I accept then what?” They win a couple of rounds and brag and then the others find out, make a mess, we lose control and then the police get involved. No thanks.

Izuku swallows a sigh, Police? Why would the police be interested in something Han does? Don't they only do it with criminals, but Han isn't a criminal?

“But imagine all we could do with that money! You know the shelter needs help and the income from fights is usually not enough, especially when you insist on giving a share to that bastard.”

“That bastard, as you call her, is the reason they haven't arrested us and instead tolerate our little business.”

“She just wants the money!”

“And that works for us, or what are you suggesting? Stop paying her?”

It's easy to picture Han when he says things like that, he usually does the same thing when he thinks Izuku is feeling stupid (although Han has never called him that), standing with his arms crossed and a cigarette clutched in his fingers in a bored gesture. You can easily see his scowl together with his mocking tone as his partner sulks because he knows he's right.

“The fuckers should be thankful you got those pests off their backs," he remarks after letting out a string of insults that have Izuku's cheeks flaming and very confused.

Han makes a noncommittal noise. After that it doesn't take too long for them to change topics, talking about tournaments and what appear to be encounters between people with amusing nicknames like "Tornadoman" and "Greenspidy" until the man takes his leave, mentioning about a "Kana" hanging around, his tone much calmer than how he'd arrived.

His friend waits a few more minutes before sighing and reaching over to shake him.

“Come on, kid, you'd better go sleep somewhere more comfortable before your back starts to ache.”

“Han? What time is it?” Izuku fakes the whole process of waking up. He stretches his arms, yawns and carves his eyes so that he looks like he just woke up. He thinks he has succeeded until he notices the sly smile hidden on the man's lips. But instead of scolding him or sneering (or explaining) he takes another drag on his cigarette.

“Late. I was going to drop you off but I need to finish fixing a car before they come to pick it up tomorrow, and it's already too dark for you to walk alone, so you'll stay here.”

Izuku had stayed exactly three times at Han's house before, two of them being complete accidents of when the boy fell asleep on the couch and didn't wake up until the next morning and once it was raining and neither of them wanted to risk catching a cold from running in the rain. A quick glance at the clock hanging on the wall confirms to him that, although it's late, it's not late enough at night to need an escort.

He begins to feel nervous, especially when what he overheard of the conversation with that stranger finally makes a dent in his head. They had both mentioned the police several times and a business that might have the officers on their backs if they didn't pay up? And something about money and a shelter... Izuku had only known this man for a few months and Han was pretty secretive about a lot of things, much more so than his mom when talking about his dad. Han could be a criminal for all he knew, a criminal (not a villain, a villain would never have helped a good-for-nothing like him). His mom at least wouldn't want him to meet him before, let alone if she realized what she heard today.

(But Inko is not there)

And yet Izuku trusts Han (the one adult without obligation who is kind to him, the one who listens to him, the one who has already helped him out of several panic attacks, the one for whom he has unknowingly already given up some of his loyalty) so he nods and prepares himself for having to run home in the morning to have to wash up and change out of his uniform. The man gives him a gentle nudge on the shoulder as he rises from his chair.

“Come on, you know where my room is, I won't need it so you can take it tonight.”

He tries to argue, because he can't leave Han without a place to sleep, but the man quickly cuts him off by telling him that he doesn't expect to sleep a wink that night anyway because he has to work and that Izuku wouldn't be able to sleep if he stays on the couch. He then shooes him up to the third floor of the workshop, where the house proper is and leaves him to his own devices.

Tired, nervous and a little unsure, Izuku creeps around the small apartment until he comes to a plain-looking door which he opens to reveal the room devoid of any of Han's decorations. Having seen the last time he stayed there Izuku changes into a set of clothes he had left for when he helped Han with his work and will end up hopelessly stained. Once comfortable he turns off the lights and crawls onto the cold sheets.

His mind, filled with new questions, lingers on a detail of the conversation that he almost overlooks in the heat of his doubts. He thinks about how tense his friend has been looking over the past few days, how he wouldn't let him leave even though it wasn't even close to midnight, and then the last comment the man, the stranger, had made before he left.

What if Han didn't want him to leave because of that person they mentioned, Kana? For some reason the thought that his friend is protecting him from more than just bullies fills him with a warm feeling before finally going back to sleep.

...

Despite the trust Izuku still has the idea to ask Han about what he heard at night, but that morning he ends up getting up late and rushing to school straight from the workshop (at least Han had had the foresight to put his uniform in the wash), so besides a quick greeting he can't exchange any more words with his friend. And in the afternoon, when he returns, one of Han's assistants whom Izuku only vaguely recognizes, informs him that the man has gone out to do a job. And so it goes for the next few days until the weekend passes and Izuku has only seen Han for less than three hours all week.

His mom must sense that something is wrong, because that returning weekend she sacrifices an afternoon of sleep to take Izuku out for ice cream at her favorite ice cream parlor. The two sit on one of the park benches nearby (not Han and Izuku's) and talk about how their week has been going even though they talk every day by phone call.

Izuku tries to act like his usual happy self, describing to his mom Ingenium's cool quirk and how his personality and teamwork will make him an even more popular hero in the coming years. His mom nods and smiles as usual, but for some reason Izuku can't help but compare her responses to Han's much less smiling but more thoughtful ones when they talk about quirks.

Has his mom always looked so bored when she listens to him ramble? Will she be regretting taking him out? how different will the conversations he has with his friends and co-workers be now that he has more time?

“Izuku?” asks his mother when she notices he has stopped, "Is something wrong honey?”

“Nothing mom!” she forces herself to stop thinking, forcing a smile that doesn't reach her eyes, "I was just wondering when you'll have a vacation.”

“Well, that's hard to say," she fiddles nervously with her hands, "I've only just started in this position and Mr. Yamagawa has been so kind to let me come in on Saturdays that I don't want to ask him yet.”

Izuku nods even though inside he feels something ugly twist. His mom perhaps sensing it too slips an arm around his shoulders and hugs him.

“Oh Izuku, as soon as I can I'll ask him, okay?” Another nod. His mom smiles, big and bright “Okay how about you keep telling me about that quirk, is it as cool as All Might's?”

“Mom, no one is cooler than All Might!”

And for the rest of the day Izuku feels a little happier, to the point that when his mom asks him again if there's anything he wants to talk to her about he considers, just for a second, telling her about Han, but abandons it in favor of another smile because how would his mom react to knowing he's been lying to her these past few months?

When Monday arrives Izuku feels better, but soon falls back into nervous habits when that afternoon once again Han tells him that he has no time to chat...is it that Han has had enough of him as Kaachan had said? Was he upset that Izuku overheard their conversation or is it something else? Is he afraid that Izuku will rat him out to the police about whatever it is he is doing? He doesn't know and it scares him, but for the most part it makes him feel lonely.

Now, people might consider Izuku to be a very understanding child, and he is. Izuku understands with a maturity that most of his peers don't that Han hasn't really neglected him, as well as that his mom only works so long because she needs him and not because she wants to be away from him (no matter what Kaachan and his peers say). But no one should forget that Izuku is still a kid, an eight year old boy whose only friend is that man who has no quirk but is still cooler than him and now he's barely and he's barely seen, when he has so many doubts and his classmates are still cruel and his teachers too and he feels lonely.

So yes, it should come as no surprise that Izuku falls asleep once again on the old sofa in the workshop in an attempt to wait for his friend's return so he can talk to him. This is how Han finds him when he returns that night: lying on his side, one arm serving his head as a pillow while a trail of drool runs down his cheek.

“Shouldn't you be home, boy?” she asks when she manages to wake him up. Izuku mumbles in confusion before noticing the familiar face, then lets out a squeak and tries to get up, only to end up tangled in his own feet and hitting the ground.

“Uh, I just, I just..." he stutters, struggling to get up. Han lets him do it alone, watching him with an indecipherable expression. Somehow that only serves to wear down the last of his nerves, so he shouts the first thing that comes to mind, "You've been ignoring me!”

Silence. Izuku can feel the heat in his cheeks, as well as the burning in his eyes from embarrassment.

“I mean... I know you don't mean to or maybe you do, but that's okay, because I'm just a Deku and you're an adult and you have adult things to do like work or maybe more friends do you have more friends? It's okay if you don't! although I think you do because you're much cooler and cool people have friends, like Kaachan, But I haven't seen you much in several days and I was scared because you might not want to be my friend anymore and I understand if you don't want to anymore because it's normal and it was really just a matter of time and…” jumps up, a hand is pressed against his mouth effectively interrupting his mumbling.

“Boy, calm down, breathe. This has nothing to do with you, I have things to do tonight, that's all. Now I'm going to accompany you to your apartment because I can't leave you alone in the workshop and I need to go out…”

“I want to go with you!” He doesn't realize he has spoken until he notices the silence that follows his statement. He doesn't know who is surprised, him for having dared to demand something or Han who studies him doubtfully for a few seconds.

“You don't even know where I'm going.”

“Uh, a job?”

“Something like that. Remember the conversation you overheard the other night? -Knowing he'd been caught Izuku nods uncertainly- -Well, where I'm going is related to that. It's not a place for kids, not even close and you have school tomorrow, so tell me do you still want to go?”

He hesitates - maybe it's a stupid decision? yes - is he really that desperate? too. And if there's one thing people could recognize about Izuku Midoriya, it's that he's a stubborn kid to the core once he makes up his mind. Then he fills up with resolution again and looks Han straight in the eyes.

”I... yes," he breathes, "I do want to go.”

Han doesn't let him argue before dragging him up to the third floor and starts rummaging through the drawers where Izuku keeps his own outfits. It takes a few minutes but then he nods, looking satisfied.

He holds out a set of nondescript clothes and orders her to change. Once done he gives him one last look before leading him straight to an old rat-gray vehicle. They drive in silence, only being interrupted by the noise of the few cars that pass them. At some point Izuku begins to regret pushing to come, but before he can express his doubts Han stops the vehicle.

He glances out the window curiously, but is disappointed when he sees nothing but a sort of square with its stores closed with the paintings peeled off and the shop windows smeared with obscene graffiti.

“What are you waiting for?” he asks and only then Izuku notices that he has been staring frozen inside the car and hurries to get out. The cold night wind bites his arms and he is thankful that Han has made him change his uniform for a black long-sleeved shirt and pants of the same color.

Izuku makes an effort to jog behind his friend, who strides between the tents. He doesn't have much time to observe, but what he looks at leaves him feeling uneasy. The whole place looks, if not abandoned, at least seriously neglected, and it doesn't help that the square is empty.

“This place used to be quite popular," Han says, attracting his attention. He holds his typical cigarette between his fingers, but without lighting it for once.

“And then what happened?”

“A villain attack. He destroyed some things, the hero who came to stop him concentrated too much on putting on a good show, and several people died, including the villain. Now many believe this place is haunted.”

Izuku's eyes widen in surprise, then he hears a clatter coming from his left and he shrieks, jumping up to hide behind the man. Han gives him a long look that somehow combines disappointment and mockery and makes Izuku blush.

“I'm-sorry.”

He ignores her apology and instead gestures for her to hurry up. They move a little further through the sea of stores until they come to some sort of neglected pharmacy. Izuku gives the place a doubtful glance when he notices the state of its tarnished display case and the way the illegible name sign has come loose from a hinge, but Han enters without a second glance and Izuku has to hurry to catch up.

As they move along the shelves Izuku bites his lip to keep the doubts from escaping his mind in the form of mutterings, what are they doing in that place? is that where Han has been spending his last few nights? why? does it have something to do with that other job he mentioned? are they trespassing? is that why the police might arrest them? He doesn't want to be arrested! and he doubts Han would have brought him if there is a big risk, right? Han wouldn't do anything that could tarnish his record and therefore not be able to apply to UA would he? uh, stop did he ever tell Han he wanted to be a hero? he can't remember and what if he never told him and Han doesn't know he shouldn't be arrested and then he gets arrested? He could never be a hero! ...Although Kaachan would be pleased, but his mother would be worried, and his teachers would be right that he's just a problem child and...

“We're here, boy.”

Han's voice manages to pull him out of the spiral his thoughts had fallen into. Izuku gives him a shy smile but immediately changes it to a frown when he realizes where they are; somehow while he was distracted he had gone into the pharmacy pantry, pushed aside some boxes and entered some sort of secret door and walked down a couple of stairs until he stopped in front of another, much wider and thicker door.

Why was it that he had wanted to accompany Han, again?

Izuku watches as Han knocks on the door: three short knocks in quick succession and two with an open palm. Immediately the crack opens in a silly imitation of the movies he sometimes watched at Kaachan's house before the diagnosis. Whoever is behind gives them a quick glance before closing and opening the door. Izuku sees a tall, broad-shouldered man with bluish skin, who turns to his friend with a curious gesture when he notices him.

“He's coming with me," he cuts him off before he can ask, "I don't want anyone to disturb him. Spread the word.”

The man gives a curt nod and steps aside so they can enter. Immediately it hits Izuku the smell of sweat and other things running around the place. He sees bodies, people huddled next to each other with their backs to them. Most of them are shouting swear words at whatever they look at, some have alcohol or soda in their hands. Izuku starts to feel cornered by the amount of people around him. He shrugs in an attempt to make himself smaller and breathe but that only earns him a shove from one of the strangers. He jumps when he feels a hand but relaxes when he notices it's only Han.

He says nothing (though he doesn't think he could hear it) but leads him gently but firmly to a narrow path that opens up next to one of the walls. So they move forward, with Han leading and Izuku trying to breathe normally again until they cross over and come to some stairs (and how that place is high enough to have them when he's sure they're underground) that lead to a sort of balcony.

The people there (three women and two men) greet Han in more or less affectionate ways which he quickly dismisses. He pushes him over and sits on one of the cushioned chairs there, then kneels down to be at eye level with them.

“Better?” he asks and Izuku nods. Han watches him for a few more seconds to confirm, stands up and returns with a bottle of water which Izuku is already familiar with the procedure.

They stay like that, side by side, with only the unintelligible screams of the people below as background noise. When he feels stable enough, Izuku tugs on his friend's sleeve. Han sighs and gestures for him to come over to the railing. Izuku is a little fearful of what he will find.

What he sees has him confused for a couple of seconds. Two people, a man and a woman, the man has feline features and the woman a notorious musculature, throw themselves on each other in a cage, both throwing punches that hit their opponent viciously. At this point the woman has the man in a kind of headlock surrounding him by the neck until the man manages to twist so that he can claw the woman in the face. On the balcony one of the men curses.

Han decides that moment to approach, his lit cigarette once again at the edge of his lips.

-You have questions, ask them.

“What is this?” he asks, hesitant. He looks away from the fight although he can still hear a crack as the woman returns the attack.

“A fight, people pay to see two or more idiots beat each other bloody.”

“Hum, I know that, but isn't it... this, uh, isn't it illegal?”

Han takes a puff on his cigarette. His breath is lost in the bright lights of the place. So he looks like some kind of lord surveying his lands.

“They are," he says after a while, "or were until we reached an agreement with the local police.”

Izuku has more questions than before but he doesn't know if he could ask them when he continued to be so nervous. Downstairs the fight is almost over, the man managing to wear the woman down with his quick and precise movements. Part of him can't help but be impressed by the way they peel even though the rest of him just wants to cower in a corner.

“But... using quirk without a license is illegal," he whispers, because now Han has turned to look at him. He hears a snort from behind him and turns to see one of the women standing with them on the balcony. She is tall, thin almost skeletally but dressed in an outfit that must cost more than her house.

She looks at them amused, a bottle of beer resting on the table beside her within arm's reach.

“Is that your son Han? Or are we doing school visits now?”

She feels her cheeks flare. She opens and closes her mouth mumbling in embarrassment as nothing coherent comes out, the woman's smile widening until she notices Han's hand resting on her shoulder.

“Amelia, I hope you're enjoying the show," she says but her tone is anything but pleasant.

“Of course, Han, dear. But you never answered my question, what is this little thing doing in a place like this?” He puts a hand to his chest, feigning surprise, "Don't tell me he's going to fight?”

“No, if he ever wants to, he must be more than fifteen years old," Izuku feels his shoulder tighten. And I said I want him to be left alone. This boy is under my care. I will hold anyone who dares to touch him responsible.

There is a clear threat in the last sentence that makes the woman click her tongue and clearly recoil, throwing up her hands.

“A woman can no longer be curious," she says, but takes her drink and leaves the balcony. One of the men follows her, but the others stay, just giving them a couple of glances, to which Han returns unperturbed.

“Come, let's go somewhere more private so I can explain everything to you.”

They move again, but this time to the back of the balcony where a pair of curtains conceals a door. Han pulls a key from his pocket that fits the knob and steps aside to let them in. The room is about as sterile as anything he's come to associate with Han; there's a desk and a couple of chairs, plus a bookshelf full of books but nothing else, the floor and walls are bare.

It's not long before they're facing each other again, sitting so that the door is to their side and not their backs. Han reaches for a couple of folders from his desk which he then passes to Izuku. The boy tries to read them but quickly gives up when he notices that most of them are in legalese he doesn't understand yet.

“Han? You... you said you would explain," he tries not to sound too demanding, but his nerves have been frayed for several days now and he feels tired. The man, luckily, doesn't hold him against him but stretches out in the chair so that his head hangs over the back.

“This place is known as Circle Zero," he says. “It's a center for police-approved street fights as long as the use of quirk is regulated and they don't become too popular.”

“But why?”

“Why do you think?”

Izuku thinks but can't imagine a reason why the police would go against the laws. and tells him so, earning a sarcastic smile from Han.

“You'd be surprised kid, how much value a couple of bills can have on a person's morale.”

“But that's what I don't understand! Why would they do it? Cops are supposed to enforce the law just like heroes," he pauses, suddenly startled, "Heroes know that too?”

“Some of them” Han shrugs as if he hasn't broken part of his worldview “though they're mostly police officers and a couple of detectives. You see kid, this fighting thing isn't that simple, agreements and payments are in place to ensure both sides comply.”

“But why?”

And that's the question of the matter: why?. Why would someone like Han, who is nice to a Deku like him, run some kind of street fighting club?

“It's all part of a system. You see, this place functions as a sort of neutral point between rival sides, groups that have disagreements and instead of fighting in the streets where they can cause damage to property and to each other, they come here and send a representative to face each other in the ring.”

“And that... helps?”

“Yes, because they no longer have to send patrols every time there is a disagreement between the sides. In return we can run a betting board and keep part of the winnings.”

Izuku is silent for a while, trying to digest what he has just learned. At first he doesn't succeed, nor does he want to. Somehow he has just discovered that not everyone who enforces the laws finishes them and that Han surrounds himself with potential villains? He didn't say it in those words but Izuku is useless but not tone, he knows that when the man talks about sides he most likely means opposing gangs who settle their disagreements through confrontations. The news sometimes covers such things, though Mom had always been against him seeing "such violent scenes."

That would explain a lot, actually. Some of Han's comments, the way some of the officers had looked at him when they were both walking back to his apartment once. It even explains the conversation the other night.

(Many years later Izuku would replay all parts of that conversation and discover that while Han had shown him that day some of the corruption that existed in society, he had also spared himself many details too harsh for a child to know. And that knowledge would become in the bad days a kind of confirmation that Han had at one time actually been his friend).

But now Izuku is tired and doesn't feel ready to accept it all. Han as always notices this. He takes him by the arm again and leads him out of the compound to the car and from there takes him to the workshop, once again letting him use his bed with a quick excuse of what a school night before leaving for some unknown place.

The next day Izuku leaves early in a contradiction of his behavior in the previous days. He spends the day distracted by all the questions he has to the point where a couple of his teachers shoo him out into the hallway arguing that he's not paying enough attention, but for once he doesn't mind too much. Nor does he notice that he's been cornered by a group of older kids until they snatch his backpack, dumping its contents to proceed to beat him up.

For once he doesn't even speak, but waits until they are done, gathers his things, and slowly and inconsistently walks away to the workshop. He dares not miss the meeting that afternoon, no matter how confused he feels, because in the end it had been he and no one else who had insisted on knowing what his friend did in the evenings, and Han, being the friend he was and recognizing his insecurity had taken him along.

And Han had explained as well (Never mind that Izuku still didn't understand, his teachers always said that a person without quirk couldn't be as smart as a person with one), taking his time to tell him that no, technically it wasn't illegal what they did And they even have rules! And if some heroes knew that meant it was okay.

So no, Izuku doesn't plan on walking away from Han when the man is not to blame for how he feels. So he bites his lips and walks. As he enters he is greeted by the sight of his friend's feet sticking out from underneath one of the vehicles, which he steps out of when he hears Izuku enter.

“Kid- shit," he growls and Izuku looks at him in confusion, then remembers the last beating and shrinks back in embarrassment. He doesn't resist when Han grabs his arm and drags him to a chair, where he proceeds to patch him up again.

Izuku can feel the familiar sting in his eyes before he begins to sob. Han stops from where he is disinfecting a cut on his leg and looks at him a bit alarmed. Before he can regret it Izuku throws himself into his friend's arms, hiding his face in the oil-filled shirt.

Han is surprised but not as surprised as the time several months ago, he still forces Izuku back to his previous position so he can get on with his work. Neither says anything for a while. When the man finishes Izuku has stopped crying, but still has traces of tears on his cheeks.

“Do you want to talk about it, boy?” Izuku denies, though inwardly he's grateful for the effort, knowing how much Han hates sentimental talk. An idea forms in his head, an idea that might be a bit stupid but is accompanied by curiosity and the need to get back to normal or as much normalcy as he can reach.

He fiddles with his fingers, twisting them painfully trying to gather enough courage. Han waits, for once, in one of his strange moments of absolute comprehension.

“Hum, Han? Can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead," he growls, and Izuku feels the courage rush through him. He takes one more breath, in, in, out, in, out and then blurts out the question:

“Do you think you could teach me more about the circle?”

Chapter Text

Han agrees to take him to the Circle as long as he promises not to leave his side and do whatever he tells him. Izuku readily agrees, of course, and soon finds himself accompanying his friend to the "quieter" fights. They are incredible in a way that fills Izuku with dread for all the blood but also a thrill he can't name. It's like some kind of magical adventure going into that place, knowing that no matter how important his teammates are or how far his teachers say they're going to get, none of them are going to be there before Izuku.

At first many of the fighters give him uncomfortable or irritated looks as they see him sitting on the edge of the balcony, his legs dangling over the railing as he tries to observe the various quirks and note them down in his notebook. Some in specific even go so far as to taunt him and push him a couple of times before Han intervenes, leading to the culprits who then return with their eyes too wide and a new refusal to look at Izuku at all.

However his continued appearance and his staying out of other's business (other than to ask about quirks, which still continues to make some uncomfortable but he ignores it when Han tells him to) makes most warm up to him to the point where Han is comfortable with reducing the withering stare and threatening aura. 

After that things get quieter and Izuku finds himself enjoying his time. Han introduces him to some of his classmates, most of them are full of tattoos and piercings and sometimes come in with dilated pupils and red eyes and smell funny and it's a bit annoying when they all decide to smoke in the same room, but none of them look down on him when he mutters that he's quirkless and they are also friendly (in their own way) and oblige him by answering questions he asks about their quirks.

He also meets a boy about his age, who introduces himself as Joy. He is thin and small, shorter even than himself. Izuku feels a sort of kinship with the boy, especially when he discovers his almost obsessive passion for gathering information, in his case. strange or unique traits of each person, sometimes referring to his own quirks.

(Joy's quirk, a mental quirk that allows him to sort any information he learns into a mental space that only he can access keeps Izuku thinking of possible applications in heroics for weeks. The main drawback is that the boy's mind works almost like a memory, with a limited amount of storage, so he always has to choose between the data he wants to keep and the data he doesn't and then there's no way to retrieve it, still Izuku thinks it's cool and very useful).

All in all, Izuku feels like he's sailing on a constant cloud of happiness and curiosity like he's never felt before. For the first time since he was four years old, his space has expanded to two new locations: the workshop and Han's small office in the circle, where they've even added a table for his own personal use. The only bad thing is that most fights take place late at night, causing him to fall asleep a couple of times at school and his grades to slip. 

-If you don't want to be here Midoriya, you should say so. Studying is a privilege that people like you shouldn't take for granted," says his teacher one afternoon when he catches him nodding off over his notebook. All around him his classmates laugh at his red face and stammered apologies.

-I'm s-sorry sensei! They turned off the water yesterday and I had to stay up late so I could wash my uniform..." He leaves the sentence in the air as his teacher lets out an exasperated sigh.

-Yeah, whatever, Midoriya. Just pay attention.

Izuku returns to his notebook glad he's done. It hasn't been a lie, per se. No matter how much he earned, Han's workshop isn't in a good part of town and basic resource cuts are somewhat common, so Izuku has taken to carrying a portable battery to charge his phone and even a handheld flashlight for when he had to finish his tasks in the dark.

Anyway, just because they let them pass doesn't mean his teachers stop paying attention to him, on the contrary, Izuku catches them giving him reproachful looks every time he lets out a yawn. He knows it's wrong and that he should get more sleep, but he can't find a way to do it without stopping going to the Circle.

(He feels guilty for sleeping all that weekend instead of spending time with his mom, but he's so tired. He feels the worried looks at dinnertime, but reassures her by telling her an excuse about a group project or some other nonsense that his mom swallows with some hesitation. Izuku doesn't notice until later that he's gotten better at lying.)

He doesn't say anything to Han, for fear that if she finds out she'll stop taking him (and Izuku can't lose one of his safe places, not now that the store owners in his district refuse to sell him stuff, not after that science class where they talked about the theory of evolution and natural selection and how the better adapted and evolved animals were the ones that survived while the weaker ones were used as prey or left to die, and he had noticed the looks and heard the whispers about how a Deku like him should let nature take its course and.... )

But in the end, as is usually the case with anything Izuku-related, Han figures it out quickly and offers him a brusque solution, this time thrown in the form of a pair of noise-isolating headphones and a sleeping bag as worn as the couch in the workshop the following Monday as they settle into the office.

-Now you can sleep while I do paperwork," he says disinterestedly, ignoring how Izuku's eyes light up with tears. Usually when Han gives him things other than normal bandages or medical supplies he changes the subject quickly, as if being nice feels like physical pain, so Izuku feels justified in starting to try out his new hearing aids almost immediately. It's for that very reason that he doesn't notice the man until he has him standing before him, one hand gripping his shoulder almost painfully.

-Han? -He asks, because there is a kind of strange shadow in his friend's eyes and it makes him breathe shakily.

-I don't like it when you keep things from me, boy.

-Wh-what?

-This, that you were tired, did you think I wouldn't notice? 

-N-no it wasn't that, it's just... it's just that I... I...

-I don't understand why you felt the need to hide it when you tell me other things -the abuse, his teachers, his mom.

-I just... I... I thought you wouldn't let me come anymore.

-And when have I ever given you the impression of that? -Han sounds incredulous, even though his voice doesn't have a bend in it. It makes Izuku feel guilty and stupid.

-Never, I just, I, I, I... -He tries to find the words but nothing comes out. What a stupid insulting Deku is, he can't even trust his friend and now that friend is upset and maybe he realizes how horrible Izuku is and maybe all the kids left them not because he has no quirks but because he's weird and not a good friend and Han will too and why won't air get into his lungs, oh gods he's choking because he's an idiot and needs to breathe but he can't.

Luckily a deep sigh pulls him out before he can go too far, he feels a gentle push and when he blinks he finds himself sitting in the chair behind his desk, his new headphones dangling inertly around his neck. Across from him Han watches his face with that precision he's come to expect (not the angry kind, thankfully) and feels himself relax a little.

-Are you done?

Izuku nods, a little dizzy but decidedly better than before. Han passes him a bottle of water out of nowhere and the boy is content to drink it as silence falls between them. Or at least he thinks so, but that seems to be one of the rare days when his friend is more talkative.

-Shit, I should've known pressing down would send you into a panic attack, my bad, but seriously kid, I don't like being lied to, let alone kept secrets.

-I'm sorry," he mutters, embarrassed.

-I hope. From now on you have to tell me if you feel bad or anything else, I can't help if I don't know what's going on with you, a few days ago you almost made a shelf fall down in the workshop and then what do you think I would do?

He mumbles another apology, shrugging until he can feel his shoulders at the level of his ears. Han presses them together, forcing him to look him in the eye. Again he has that angry glare.

-No more secrets, no more lies, no more withholding information, okay?

Another nod.

-No, I need you to say it," he presses. Izuku just wants her to leave him, to snuggle in his arms until the angry look in the man's eyes disappears, but Han doesn't let him go, on the contrary he grabs her chin, forcing her to endure his withering gaze. We're friends, aren't we? Quirkless people stick together.

And he's right, Izuku knows. He's tried to deny it all this time, but a part of him has always known. He's seen it before, in the groups of people with mutant quirks and the way they defend each other, walking together and snarling at anyone who dares to confront them. He's seen it in the kids at his school who have weak or evil quirks, devising their own ingenious ways to escape bullies. He's seen it in strong quirks like Kaachan and his friends, covering their backs as they push others around and prove they're better. Every day that passes is just more confirmation of how the world is divided into groups that protect each other.

And Izuku just wants something like that too. Sure, he wants to be a hero and save people, but his heart also longs to belong, and he believes Han is the only one who can give it to him. Because as he said, people without quirk stick together.

-Yes Han, I understand," he mumbles, but with a sharp edge of determination.

-Good.

Satisfied Han lets go, unaware of the mess of understanding that has just blossomed in the boy's mind. Izuku watches him rummage through some boxes in the corner until he pulls something out. He tosses him an old blanket that Izuku fails to catch.

-Now go get a few hours of sleep.

Soon Izuku adds "sleep more than two hours" to his daily schedule. It's not perfect, he hardly ever gets more than seven hours outside of weekends and sometimes much less when Han has some meeting and needs Izuku to be out of his office, but at least now he no longer falls asleep in the middle of a lesson and is less accident prone than during all those weeks.

Han also seems more attentive than before, a little more brusque about some things when he senses Izuku is hiding something from him, but that doesn't fail to make Izuku feel good inside because he knows someone cares. (Mom does a great job but if Han pokes and prods and makes him feel a little guilty worrying the older man, she's just the opposite: too conformist, too willing to believe him, too easy to fool.)

Izuku quickly adapts to this new dynamic and soon everything returns to some version of normalcy. Or so it seems until the week of professions begins and Izuku notices his friend a bit tense. He tries to ask questions to which the man responds with some problems he is having in repairing the latest vehicle.

Then one day, Izuku inadvertently leaves one of his notebooks out of his backpack. It's big and obviously not for school, instead Izuku uses it for more detailed costume sketches; he likes it because it's not heavy despite its size and it has a huge All Might with his silver age costume on the cover and large letters crying "You can be a hero too!". When Han notices this he says nothing, and Izuku, who though smart is still so young and tends to overlook some details, doesn't notice the way his friend's brow furrows, nor his quick glance at the calendar hanging nearby.

Nor does he notice the abysmal foreboding that can be felt in the air until, like a snowball, the shifter has begun to roll down the mountain, sliding over the surface and drawing to itself more and more snow until the ball doubles in size and it is impossible not to run away from it.

It starts small. At first it's just little comments here and there about the heroes' mistakes, debates systematically sneaking into his chats about quirks that are more insistent than before, newspaper articles left on his desk where they criticize the death count and even an interview of a couple of heroes outside the top who spoke ill of mutant quirks.

Izuku ignores them for the most part because he knows Han's more than negative opinion of the heroic system. The man is not one to hide his opinion even though he doesn't talk much. It makes Izuku a little uncomfortable, but he can see the reason in many points he raises. In a way it helps further his belief that more heroes who just want to help people are needed.

When he turns nine he feels he sees most heroes from a more unbiased perspective than he did before. All Might of course remained the exception (he is the symbol of peace, after all).

A few weeks later Han tells him to dress in his most nondescript clothes and leads him around dozens of gloomy looking backstreets and corners that he later learns to recognize as the red light district, until they come to a small block of destroyed buildings and houses with boarded up windows. They cross the street until they come to a more or less standing house, which Han crosses with barely a glance at the woman resting on a handful of tattered pillows on the floor of what looks like the living room. He doesn't stop them, but watches their gait until they reach a door leading to a set of old stairs leading to the basement. Once inside Izuku notices rows of stretchers with curtains that are nothing more than scraps of cloth and a few people running around carrying bandages and cotton bags.

-Where are we? -she whispers, hoping not to distract anyone.

Han gives him one of those looks he gets when he knows something Izuku doesn't.

-Have you ever been to the hospital, kid? -No, I mean after the diagnosis. Have you ever been to a hospital?

His first impulse is to say yes, because he's obviously been for checkups and stuff but then he stops himself when he can't manage to remember his last visit past the age of five when he was diagnosed as quirkless. He thinks, trying to remember a single time his mother has taken him for either a cold or vaccinations or maybe some of the more serious injuries his peers have left him with. He thinks he remembers one time when he broke his arm, but it's so hazy and he only manages to catch tiny fragments mixed with phantom pains and his mother's tears when they returned home. From there he has vague memories of private clinics and rough nurses, though even those visits ended with the passage of time.

-I thought so," Han takes his silence as affirmation and guides him to a side where he is out of the way, pointing around him. From your question I imagine you weren't aware that people without quirk are not welcome in hospitals.

What?

-What? But that's impossible!

-It's not, most hospitals consider it a waste to cure a person whose average lifespan doesn't go past twenty. And those that do take advantage of it to charge rip-off prices.

Izuku wants to rebut, but that would explain why his mom had never taken him to one even though some of his injuries were particularly difficult to treat at home. He wants to kick himself for how oblivious he's been, he wants to scream and cry and maybe kick some doctors (Han always kicks bottles when he gets angry, it seems cathartic) but instead he opts to ask the more pressing question.

-Is this a hospital for people without quirk?

-Among others," he pulls out a piece of paper that he rolls with deft hands into a cigarette-like shape, which he fiddles with as he speaks. The fuckers will deny anyone access to medical services if they think they have the right reasoning. Here come people without quirks, mutant quirks and some fugitives, anyone who needs it enough to risk it.

-What do you mean?

-You never know what kind of people you'll run into here. It may be a neutral spot, a bit like the Circle, but that doesn't mean no one will take advantage of knowing you're hurt out there. Those who come do so at their own risk, plus, for more regular visitors, there's a limit to how many times they can get in.

-But it's not...

-This place runs on charity practically, they can't afford to cater to people who are stupid enough to get stuck so many times. They can't do things that are too advanced either. There are a couple of volunteers with useful quirks but they number less than a dozen and they try to spread out all over Japan, so it's a miracle to find them anywhere.

That makes sense, in a sad way, Izuku can understand that they're just trying to do their best with the limited resources they have.

-That's informative," he says, and helpful, because you never know what you might end up stuck in down those streets. Then another doubt arises, he turns to face his friend better, trying hard to ignore the groans of pain he can hear behind one of the curtains. But, Han, why are we here?

A rustle of paper. A scream. Han grabs his shoulder to keep him from turning and Izuku lets go. His friend's eyes focus on his face, on his tense posture and the way his hands shake a little. He lets out what sounds like a sigh.

-I brought you here because I thought maybe you might be interested in learning something from here. You said you want to help people and it's always helpful to know how to patch yourself up in an emergency. I already talked to Yosh, he's kind of the guy who runs this place, he said as long as you're willing and don't throw up too much in your first few days he has no problem with teaching you.

The offer surprises him because it seems to come out of nowhere, It also scares him a bit, but after thinking about it he can't refuse something so useful, less when he knows that heroes need to learn this kind of stuff too to be ready for field work (and Izuku needs all the advantage he can get). Oh, he's scared, in fact he's absolutely terrified. He's not bad with blood, the bruises and cuts left by his companions have numbed him to some extent, but he can't deny that the thought of seeing worse wounds, needing more than a few stitches sounds unsettling.

Still Izuku is nothing if not determined, so he forces himself to form a smile that he hopes looks less shaky than he imagines and nods. Immediately Han gestures to someone behind Izuku and he can hear the footsteps of someone approaching.

Yosh turns out to be a short, brittle-looking old man with yellow teeth and a milky eye. He walks without a cane although he has a pronounced limp. When he sees Izuku he gives him a quick nod and turns to talk to Han. The boy lets the two men plan schedules and such, while he tries to get a glimpse of what will be his new place of learning. He feels a pang of sadness as he sees the nearly empty shelves and the obvious holes in the floor. One of the lamps flickers threatening to go out and one of the three fans in the ceiling makes a noise reminiscent of fingernails on a blackboard. He sees blood stains on the sleeves and chest of some of the volunteers (three) running between the ten occupied stretchers.

Before he knows it they are saying goodbye to Yosh with a promise to return on Tuesdays and Thursdays directly after school ready with a change of clothes. They have waited until they are out of the house before he drops the paper he has been playing with and exchanges it for a real cigarette which he lights quickly. He takes a long puff and then they set off for home.

Once they are near his apartment Han takes Izuku by the shoulder, stopping him under the light of a street lamp.

-I hope you know not to talk to anyone at the clinic," he says, one eyebrow raised, "it's not exactly legal.

Izuku suspected as much, but it's always good to have confirmation.

-Could I do laundry at your place? -He asks because he doesn't want to have to explain to his mom why some of his shirts are starting to have traces of blood on them.

-Yes, boy, just make sure you put them in water as soon as you can.

With nothing more to say, they both say goodbye and go their separate ways. Izuku doesn't think much more about this event, nor about the other little things Han is teaching him as the months go by. He ignores the feeling in his stomach every time Han shows him videos of the heroes using too much force or when he shows him the darker parts of the city, accompanied with the statement that the heroes are not interested in areas like that where there are no cameras.

As such, Izuku is unprepared when the little things that have been building up, blow up.

...

"Career Day," the words appear jotted down in his teacher's quick handwriting on the blackboard. Most of his classmates get excited and whisper with their neighbors. Izuku shrinks back in his seat, trying to make himself as small as possible. He tries to refocus on his notebooks where he is scribbling on the quirk of the new Circle Zero guard, a short, plump woman who has a telekinetic quirk much stronger than his mother's (he had once seen him lift half a dozen people without breaking a sweat, that's how amazing he is).

Usually Izuku is too scared of having his notebook destroyed to advance in class, but for once it seems that no one pays attention to him, too excited by the entrance of new adults coming to talk about their professions. Most likely he too would have acted in a similar way if in the last few months he had not met many of Han's contacts (After the Circle, Yosh and more acquaintances of his friend the rest of the adults seem somewhat boring to him). As such he only concentrates when there is something he is interested in jotting down on a loose page.

All morning Aldarea alumni arrive and talk about their chosen careers. Some are enthusiastic about it and show broad smiles that shrink a little at the disinterest of their classmates; but most are at least bored, describing in a monotonous and tedious voice their positions and work experience. No heroes go, although the director always brags that some have gone on to become the companions of well-known heroes.

Kaachan openly mocks some of the adults, but even he is a little quieter than usual. At the end of the day the teacher dismisses them with the assignment that they do a three-page essay talking about what career they would like to take. (Izuku ignores the taunts of his classmates by telling him that the only thing he might be eligible for would be homelessness.) With a bit of luck he manages to dodge most of his bullies, quickly leaving the school.

When he arrives at the workshop he notices that Han is not there, but that he has left him a note about running an errand so he shrugs it off. He takes advantage of the fact that he has no new injuries that day to take a shower and change out of his uniform into more comfortable clothes; it takes him a while to put the band-aids back on a couple of scratches he had earned a few days ago, then he pulls out his homework and sits down, ready to finish at least two subjects and one of the extra assignments before the adult arrives.

Somehow the history assignment ends up being more challenging than he expects, so he doesn't realize someone has entered until he feels a head near his own and yelps. Han directs an unimpressed raised eyebrow at him, straightening his back from where he had been leaning to see Izuku's work.

-What is this? -he asks, ignoring the way Izuku squeals when he sees him pick up one of his papers that he has scattered across the table.

-Uh, well, homework. Today was career day," he adds as an afterthought even though he remembers chattering about it earlier that morning.

Han makes a noncommittal noise, perusing the half-scribbled ideas for his report. He doesn't know why, but it's almost as if Han's expression grows darker and darker with each line he reads, until he explodes, slamming the pages down on the table.

-So you already have an idea of what you want to study," It sounds like a question, though the tone doesn't match. Izuku nods, studying the man's expression: it's closed, hard eyes as always, the beginnings of a grimace hiding on his lips, but he doesn't look angry and his tone, though harsh, doesn't vary too much from what he's used to.

-Yes," he replies excitedly, "I want to be a hero!

-Yes?

-Yeah! At first I just wanted to do it so I could save people with a smile -he starts, oblivious to the way the air has suddenly gotten heavier-, I mean, I still want to save people, but you're also right that the hero industry is pretty bad, and the last few months have made me think a lot about how the heroes of the light don't make it in many areas, like here or where Yosh san and that's pretty sad because there are very good people and they shouldn't live in the ways they do. And then there's the hospitals and that makes me sad but if I was a hero I think I could change that! or at least raise awareness and I would also make money and I could use it to make the clinics have better materials and make them legal and I'm sure then more people would want to help and....

Izuku lets go, excited to put into words all the ideas he's been kicking around for several months now. He prattles on for what seems like an eternity about the quirk discrimination awareness programs he wants to support when he's a professional hero, about rehabilitation programs and monetary aid for those who would need it. He talks and talks until a noise, a grunt interrupts him. Then he turns to Han with red cheeks, embarrassed to be caught on a tangent again, already with an apology on the tip of his tongue when he notices Han's gaze.

-What-what? -He stutters. The man watches him, one eyebrow raised and a fist over tousled auburn locks.

-Do you want to be a hero? -he asks, a look on his face that makes Izuku cross his arms defensively.

-Yes? -That's what I just said, I-?

-You. Do you want to be a hero? -Again the question. A tone with notes of disbelief and something else sneaks from his lips. Izuku frowns (though he doesn't know if it's out of confusion or annoyance or a mixture of both), he's never had to repeat himself so much with Han before.

-Yes.

There's a silence and then Han lets out a laugh, folds in two hugging his stomach as amused tears fall down his cheeks. Izuku feels his chest tighten at the sight, his own tears much more painfully pricking his eyes. The image reminds him so much of his teachers.

-Why are you laughing? -he asks even as his mind begs to please that it's all a misunderstanding.

-Because it's stupid.

He sobs.

-It's not!

-Yes it is, wanting to be a hero is an idiotic idea," the man says, not looking at him as he picks up the draft report again. Another laugh.

-No! I'll become a hero!

-You'll die quickly, heroes are nothing but silly dreams.

Silly dreams? Izuku doesn't understand, doesn't want to understand, why all of a sudden his friend is acting so much like an adult. (But at the same time, no, at least he hasn't yet seen the pity or dismissive look that usually accompanies those who criticize his career choice. Still, it hurts.)

It hurts.

-You...don't think I can be a hero.

-No.

-But... but you told me that not having quirk didn't make me useless!

Han has the audacity to roll his eyes. An ugly, heavy feeling begins to grow in Izuku's chest until the tears running down his cheeks feel much more bitter than hurt.

-That doesn't mean you can be a hero.

-It doesn't! Shut up, shut up! I'll be the first hero with no quirks!

-And how will you do that, midget? Do you think they'll accept you into one of their elite shitty schools? How do you know they won't write you off before you can even take the test?

-AU doesn't have that rule!

-UA! don't talk to me about that crap. That "great heroic school" is the biggest quirk discrimination test you can imagine, and you know it. Don't you remember I told you that their test is only for people with physical and flashy quirks to pass? Your bully Kaachan will get in for sure, but you?

-Then I'll show them I can, by advancing to the third round at the Sports Festival.

-You're an idiot, apparently. But let's say you make it, do you really think the Commission will give you a license? No, because they consider you a risk on the field, and even if you make it, the public will eat you alive. All that you're suffering now? That'll be nothing! they'll insult you, they'll insult your loved ones and feast on the villains who hurt you and then laugh at your grave, and meanwhile, while you go out of your way to, how do you say, save people, none of them will let you save them because that's what pride is, because they won't let some uncharacteristic shit weaker than they are help them.

-That-that doesn't...

-No? Didn't that same thing happen with Kaachan? with the same idiot who now kicks you and burns you. So it will be if you get to be a hero but worse because they will die and you will be blamed and then they will have a reason to take away your license and any kid without quirk after you will resort to suicide.

-I...

-They'd hate you, wish you were dead just like the idiots you've tried to help but are too proud to accept it.

-Kaachan would never think that!

-Wouldn't he?

-No! -Kaachan will be a hero and so will I, and I'll prove to you that none of that is going to happen!

-Stop being so stupid and idealistic! Don't you understand, this is real life and not a fucking fantasy! You can't be a hero! -Han grabs him by the shoulders, hard and shakes him. Izuku tries to get away but that only gets him shaken some more.

-Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP! -he breaks down. Tears fall on his cheeks while his hands squeeze his shirt tightly, he feels the air getting stuck in his throat and lets out a sob- I don't want to listen to you, you're just like the rest!

-Don't compare me to the others, I don't-" I don't care about your reasons!

-I don't care about your reasons! I'll be a hero! I don't need you to support me, just like I don't need mom to support me or my teachers or Kaachan. I know I found people who do believe in me.

-Yeah? -And where are they now?

-I... I... -I...

-Give it up, kid, grow up.

-No.

-Stop being stupid, I swear to the gods, what you're saying is bullshit and...! -laughs again, loud, annoyed and cruel. Izuku tries to escape from his grip but his fingers tighten and then he decides to do the only thing he can think of: he bites him.

A fury, cold and bright rises against his chest as he notices the laughter increase in volume to the point where the man is on his knees on the ground, too amused to do more than wipe the little drool from the wound. It reminds him of his companions when they have already thrown him down and consider him too insignificant to acknowledge. He explodes.

-I hate you!

The laughter is cut short. They both freeze, staring at each other with wide eyes until Han, always the first to compose himself, towers over him, one eyebrow arched in amusement.

-"Oh, yeah? -he asks. -. I hope you know what that means, after all I've done. I don't accept people who can't see beyond their own selfish illusion. So, I ask, do you hate me?

A part of Izuku wants to take it back immediately, but fury makes him step forward and stretch his neck in a way that feels unnatural, his chin held high

-Yes, you're just like the rest and I hate you.

Han, for once, seems to hesitate but he's so quick that Izuku thinks he's imagining it. The next second he lets out a snort, crossing his arms.

-Fine," he nods.

Well?

-Izuku fumbles for his things, piling his notebooks into his backpack before hastily putting it on and heading out the door. He gives one last glance back, perhaps hoping Han will try to stop him or some sign that he hasn't spoiled their only friendship, but the man turns his back on him, on his way to repair a new vehicle.

And Izuku swallows, Han's words have pricked a fear he didn't know he had, but he can't give up on his dream, not when he's built his entire existence through it. And if to achieve it he must walk away from the person he holds most dear next to his mother then (he thinks) it's okay.

It's not, of course, and he proves it when, almost two months later he returns to Han's workshop limping, drool staining his uniform, burns on his arms and All Might's words echoing in his head. He doesn't give himself time to hesitate, but instead opens the door to the workshop and steps inside, thankfully his luck (good? bad?) Han notices right away.

Izuku is almost afraid that he will start yelling at him or just kick him out (he wouldn't blame him, he had already put up with a stupid and useless Deku like him for too long, so stupid that he couldn't accept reality and had hurt his friend and maybe Kaachan is right and he should jump up and...). He doesn't notice that he has moved until he feels cold hands against his cheeks, wiping away some of the mud that has soaked into him. Han says nothing, just cleans his wounds in silence like so many other times and ignores the sobs the boy tries to suppress. Once finished he guides him to the room on the third floor and lets him lie down.

For the next few hours Izuku lies staring at the leaky roof, thinking only of how much he would like to eat katsudon. Han returns later to give him a glass of water which he drinks greedily. He picks him up to go back outside but Izuku grabs his sleeve and drags him in until he can hug him, his head buried in the man's stomach.

-I'm sorry," he whispers, "I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he repeats again and again much louder when Han doesn't push him away.

-What happened? -he asks the man. And there are so many things he can tell him about that day: the insults from his teachers, his classmates and his vase of spider lilies left on his desk last week, the whispers from his neighbors about his mother's possible abandonment, the call from his father who hung up when he noticed he had answered, the words from All Might, the scolding from the other heroes... In the end one single thing resonates in his mind.

-He told me-he told me to kill myself.

And so the tears overflow, the screams, the apologies. Izuku lets the resolution of his last days fade to nothing. At some point Han moves them both to sit on the bed, not letting go. As the man runs his fingers through his curls he asks:

-And now what will he do?

He doesn't know anymore. He is convinced he can still be a hero if he tries, but what is a hero without anyone to save? Han's words and his hypothetical world are real, a kind of prophecy in a world mired in discrimination. And he knows, though he never considered them, that there are many other ways to help people.

But for now he doesn't want to think about it. Now he is just a nine-year-old boy whose dreams have just been shattered by his idol and his childhood friend. He is a boy who has been bullied and blamed by various so-called "heroes" and hated just for existing. Now he's just a kid who wants comfort from the only person who understands (and is around to give it to him).

-I don't know.

He doesn't see, but feels the half triumphant. half relieved smile Han tries to hide, but Izuku can't find it in him to be upset, not when he had opened the doors of his home to him, let alone when Izuku has realized he was right. Han was always right.

Chapter Text

Life is monotonous when you don't have a dream, Izuku discovers a few days later. He has not left Han's workshop even though the weekend is approaching. He doesn't want to, can't, force himself to go to Aldarea knowing that no one there had ever believed in his dream, that everyone had tried to push him down in a desperate attempt to remind him that he would always be beneath them.

He doesn't want to see Kaachan again now that he has finally begun to accept that they haven't been friends in a long time, because friends don't tell someone else to kill themselves, or push them around or yell at them about how worthless they are, or scar their friends. He doesn't want to go out and realize that the world at large is still turning even though his life had been about to be destroyed. He doesn't want to go back to his room in Mom's apartment where every wall is one more reminder of how he can never be enough.

Luckily Han doesn't force him out and lets him steal his bed for the three days he's been locked up. They barely talk but the man doesn't seem mad at Izuku in any way, in fact he even looks a little worried. It makes him feel guilty because the last time he saw him he had yelled at him that he hated him.

For that very reason, on the fourth day Izuku forces himself to leave the bed. It is a long and tedious process, and he has to try at least three times before he succeeds. The cold of the floor bites at his bare feet as he drags them across the room and down the hallway that separates him from the rest of the house. He makes a quick stop to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth and then heads out in the direction of the kitchen. All the effort has left him tired and wanting to lie down on the nest of cushions near the dining room, but he knows that if he does he won't get up again for a long time, so he builds up his resolve and starts rummaging through the kitchen drawers.

That's how Han finds him half an hour later, hands full of the frying pan and the smell of chocolate chip pancakes wafting through the room.

-I didn't know we still had these," the man comments, taking the plate the boy places in front of his usual station.

Izuku shrugs though inside he's panicking, was it okay for him to make pancakes? what if Han wanted to eat something else? he hasn't seen the time but it must be close to noon and pancakes are not a good lunch and maybe now he hates him too because he can't even cook the right food and will kick him out- and oh Kami, Izuku has been stealing his bed all those nights and Han has to be angry and maybe Kaachan is right and he should- should- should-.

-There's enough for both of us. Put that down and come eat.

Izuku obeys immediately. The man watches him attentively as he smears some honey on the pancake and then cuts it before putting it in his mouth; only then does he nod and returns to devouring his. They eat in silence, only being interrupted by the dull sounds coming from the shop or the street. He haa finished first but he waits until Izuku has finished before getting up to collect the dishes.

-I can wash them! -He jumps up but the man denies, leaving the dishes in the sink and then sits back down, causing the boy to stir uncomfortably.

-There's something you want to tell me.

-I...

-You apologized before for yelling at me, you're a child, it's normal for you to yell, although I'd rather it didn't happen again.

He nods immediately, eager for forgiveness. Han then folds his arms and raises an eyebrow.

-What are you going to do now?

-What-what?

-What will you do. You can't spend the rest of your life locked up and running away from your problems. Life sucks, accept it, swallow it and spit it out into the world, kid. 

Han's words replay in his mind for the rest of the day even as he goes downstairs to help tidy up the workshop, and much later, the next day, as he makes the long walk home to his mom's house. He thinks about what he told her, the way Han himself looks so imposing, like a figure to be held in such high regard that no one would ever suspect he was quirkless at first glance.

He wants to be like that. He wants to be able to stand in front of people and be recognized, he wants no one to be able to even think about crushing him again. He doesn't want to crush (he's not Kaachan) but he's so tired of always being the least in everything, the weakest, the weirdest, the one who can never stand up for himself. Han had offered to teach him how to throw a punch, and while he thought it was exciting and interesting, Izuku hadn't given them much thought to their offer (which was silly because it would have helped him be, to be- uh, to save people in a fight, and maybe he should have thought of that before). But now he understands a lot of things, like a veil that's been torn from his eyes.

Still, with a new resolve forming inside him, he still gives himself the rest of the weekend to cry. His mom notices, of course, but lets it go half-heartedly when he tells her he's had a heavy week, which isn't a lie but not in the way she thinks.

On Monday he still doesn't feel ready but once again he forces himself to get up, to bathe, to move, to smile so that his dark circles under his eyes have to be overlooked. At school his teachers scold him for skipping almost a week but it doesn't go any further because apparently an adult (Han) had called for permission.

Kaachan throws glances at him for a while, glances that Izuku ignores because the wound is too fresh. For once it looks like the boy wants to talk, but Izuku runs away before he has a chance. It goes on like this for several days and Kaachan gets tired and lashes out, but it's okay because he's back to that normal angry look he always gives him and not that other strange one.

Meanwhile the boy gives himself completely to his extracurricular activities. He doesn't know what he wants, not yet, but he's sure he'll figure it out. He wants to help people, but there are many more ways to help them than heroism (he repeats that phrase to himself every day when he gets up, in front of the mirror, forcing a smile. He says it to himself when his mother gives him a new All Might figure even though pity tinges his gaze and he says it to himself when sleep doesn't come at night and all he can think about is his uselessness and the words of All Might and Kaachan).

The days fly by and turn into weeks. Giving up her dream becomes almost a given and the thought of it hurts less and less. Joy helps in a way. The boy had found out why he was in a taciturn state two weeks after the slime villain and although he had been just as skeptical when he told him about his dream of being a hero, he was also sympathetic. From there fostering their friendship was as easy as thwarting a quirk.

He also meets a girl who reminds him of Kaachan but at the same time doesn't. She is older than them by three years and looks as tired as Izuku the first few days though she hides it with a permanent frown. She doesn't talk much but when she does she is full of sarcastic remarks or wise-cracking phrases. It angers her that they won't let her wrestle in the Circle and instead put her to undoing cramps from wrestlers.

At first Izuku is a little intimidated by her, but then he notices that her body never leans in to hit him when he annoys her. She insults him a bit, but for the most part it's harmless. Joy immediately becomes attached and soon the green-haired boy finds himself the spectator to hundreds and hundreds of clever comebacks and teasing among his (dare he call them that?) friends.

Meanwhile Izuku tries to grow up, to be more like Han. It's harder than he imagined but "act until you believe it" may become his new motto, now that "I'm here!" leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He knows he won't be able to overcome everything overnight (that's not how the world works) but he can try and lie and lie and lie and pretend and pretend and repeat it until it becomes real.

And that's okay. He thinks this is the big hurdle in his life, that he's lost everything and now it's just up enough so he doesn't drown. He's motivated to the point that he's almost back to his old self. But, he thinks, better. Unfortunately, two months before his tenth birthday, fate decides to test how much he has changed.

Four months, one week and two days after the incident, Inko, his mother, is killed in an accident on her way to work. The cab she was in is hit by a truck making a dangerous turn when a villain crosses, too deep in the fight with a hero to notice or care. Both cars caught fire, many people videotaped the accident and screamed. But no one helped. Inko Midoriya dies that morning of asphyxiation from smoke trapped in the vehicle and loss of blood.

When he is called to the principal's office a day later, Izuku sees a man in a trench coat accompanied by a cat-headed officer. For a brief second he thinks that the police no longer agree with the fighting circle deal and have come to ask about Han, but he dismisses it when the first few minutes pass and no one mentions him. Instead the plain-looking man tells him about the accident and his mother, speaks words of condolence and comfort that Izuku barely hears.

All he can think about is that her mother is dead. Ida. She's not coming back. His mother, his mother. The one he had seen little that weekend because she told him she was tired and wanted to sleep. His mom, who when he was little used to hug him when he had a nightmare. His mom, the mom he loves but who in recent years he barely knew. 

He prepares the burial with the help of Aunt Mitzuki, his mother's close friend. She is there, along with Masaru and Kaachan when his social worker approaches, pulling him aside from the few funeral attendees, and extends emancipation papers to him. She uses big words and a tone that is meant to be somewhere between kind and sympathetic but sounds static to Izuku, that since the life expectancy of quirkless people in his generation doesn't go past twenty, the government grants special permits for orphaned quirkless children with certain requirements to live on their own with a small amount of support from the state. And Izuku, who in the eyes of the government has been living alone more than half the week for a few years, meets the few requirements in spades.

Suffice it to say, the blonde woman is none too pleased when she finds out (in fact she runs to her social worker who leaves with pink cheeks of fury and humiliation) and extends a fervent invitation for Izuku to live with them.

-It's the least I can do," she says after he calms down-. Inko is my best friend and you're a good boy, much better than my brat, we'd love to have you with us.

Izuku doesn't dare see how his former friend takes this comment, instead he makes a noncommittal noise and stands in front of his mother's freshly covered grave. The Bakugo's leave him somewhat randy when he asks them for privacy. Mizuki gives him her number.

-So we can come and get you when you pick up your things," she says, as if he has agreed to something.

Izuku of course says nothing, but appreciates the gesture. He knows he can't do that, even if he wanted to, because it means standing next to one of the few people he trusted but who told him to kill himself, one of the many culprits he's had to "think realistically" about. He cannot, in good conscience, subject himself to new torment now that he has a much bigger way out than before. And, much more importantly, a part of him is sure that the Bakugo would not allow him to visit Han either and unlike his mother it would be much harder to lie to them.

In the end it's even too easy to unlock his phone and dial one of his few contacts. When Han arrives she stands beside him, not hurrying until night has fallen and directs him firmly to his car. He arrives at the garage in a sort of fog, barely aware that the man has sat him down on the old, rickety couch, arranging him so that he can lay his head on the side if he wants to. And so he does, inhaling the smell of ash, oil and cheap cologne.

Only then does Izuku think about it, process it, become frozen in time. And then Izuku's world, the almost eleven year old boy collapses and cries on his only friend's chest until he runs out of tears and the last of his old self slips through the cracks of an overtired soul.

The next few days pass in a blur, but not to the extent of when he gave up his dream. This time it's easier to eat, dress and to some extent get on with his life under the protective walls of the workshop. And doesn't that reveal how his relationship with his mother had frayed? True, he lost his mother but he has Han and maybe he shouldn't think so because Inko was still human and despite her flaws she was still a great mom. And maybe this isn't so much about her but that Izuku doesn't know what to feel and maybe that makes him a bad person? but that's a can of worms he never wants to open, so he ignores it.

He cries, of course, because Midoriyas are many things but mostly crybabies. And Han lets him cry and gives him his space, perhaps believing he will relapse again. But he doesn't because in his mind there are no more spaces for heroes, only for the now and his life, that reality in which, more than crying for what he lost, he cries for what he could never have. The saddest thing of all? he believes that the pain he feels for his mother is not even half of what makes him cry.

Chapter Text

Aizawa Shota is a hero who doesn't care much about the media or good publicity. Sure, he constantly donates to animal shelters and sometimes volunteers to do checkups at foster homes and orphanages when he notices irregularities, but he does that because it's the right thing to do, not because he expects people to notice and think better of him for it.

However, he has to admit that the very good publicity activities that all UA professors do out of obligation are not so bad. Being the intelligent being that he is, Nezu has a system: every year he researches and they pick two places that desperately need help and add them to another list where many other places are enrolled; once ready they wait until the end or beginning of years to visit those places, give their help and, if the place turns out to be real and not just a way to get income, UA takes some sort of care and they are given monetary or material help for a certain amount of years.

One of these places registered some time ago is the "New Hope" homeless shelter. It is an old two-story building to which Cementos already had to rebuild the supports once, it occupies at least half of a block, next to a soup kitchen that operates twice a week and is maintained by some non-profit organization that Shota no longer remembers the name of (once a homeless group had convinced them to join them for lunch, he and most teachers tried to eat their whole plate out of pure courtesy, but it was so bland that he wondered if they didn't just add a lot of water to make the soup hearty).

Despite its apparent size Shota can't see much empty space when they enter. Most of the floor is taken up by threadbare blankets and dilapidated boxes; there's a small stove that's hooked up to some sort of home battery and a couple of boxes and boards as a makeshift table. It doesn't really smell bad, but that's perhaps due to a quick cleanup when the mayor was notified they were coming.

He feels a slight nudge in his ribs and turns to see Hizashi, dressed as Present Mic, slyly pointing to one of the blankets serving as a bed. Curious, he focuses his gaze on looking for something that has caught his friend's attention. At first he doesn't notice it, the corner is pretty much the same as any other in the hostel, except that the blanket is a little bigger and at his feet he has a little more suitcases than the rest. Then he notices it: it is hidden under a blanket that is transparent enough for the hero to notice the pages filled with brightly colored children's scribbles.

Realization seizes him and he gestures to Hizashi to be silent. Shota observes the other more or less similar corners, and although in some they are more cautious, in the end he notices objects that reveal the clear presence of children. He counts fifteen, four more than last year.

“Will you tell Nezu?” asks his companion in a whisper that would surprise anyone, noticing that it comes from the hero of the voice itself. Shota denies, doubting that the director hadn't already noticed and had even given orders to the other heroes to hide small knick-knacks in the food and clothing packages for the children to find later.

The game of sorts had started a little while after Shota became a teacher, right at the first visit to the shelter. By that time, much more regulatory laws had been passed condemning adults who kept children when they could not provide them with all the necessities, including a stable roof over their heads. A harsh law, and while Shota fully understood where the idea was coming from, he couldn't refute that many of those children were still better off living with their families on the street than in orphanages where no one cared what happened to them.

But being heroes they had to enforce the law. As such the teachers had talked to Nezu and came to the agreement that as long as no one saw the kids in the shelter and they made sure they were at least as well off as they could be, then they would do nothing. The system worked because there were a couple of people in the shelter and in the dining room who are responsible for slyly alerting if there was a case of abuse or similar that required intervention.

Knowing this and after doing the head count, Shota is surprised when he sees not one, but three children watching the heroes hawk-eyed from a corner full of metal canisters.

It takes him a while to notice them, partly because they're occupying one of the few shadows in the compound and partly because he's too busy unloading boxes from the school's logo truck. Of course it's Nezu first, followed by Snipe (the cowboy-themed hero has always had an awareness of his surroundings that rivals Shota himself), who catches the attention of the rest by asking one of the homeless directly.

“Oh, them? They don't sleep here, if that's what you're asking. They come in every so often and help clean and organize the place a bit.”

Knowing that they're not technically part of the refugees makes a weight he hadn't noticed he had lift from his shoulders, yet he can't help but squint when he notices one of them - the one girl - spitting a wisp of smoke from her lips before bringing the cigarette to his lips and repeating the process.

“Is she of age?” He asks without realizing it until the words have already left her mouth.

His surroundings fall silent, Shota has never been one to engage in idle chatter, so he tries not to roll his eyes. The same man as before, hunched over, almost as thin as a skeleton and dirty red hair lets out a quick chuckle before cutting himself off in a fit of coughing.

“Yeah hero, don't worry, he turned eighteen a few months ago; the others are a bit younger but not stupid enough to smoke, even if their friends do.”

He makes a noncommittal sound, not quite willing to believe it but not seeing a reason to intervene. No one in the shelter calls him by his hero name, some people know him, of course, it would be impossible for them not to, with most of their patrols in areas like these, but if there's one thing those people understand more than anything it's the need to remain as anonymous as possible.

“Oh, and how old are the other two?” This time it is Nezu who speaks, from his post teaching some quick math exercises to a group of people. 

The designated spokesman hesitates, frowns and looks at the children for clues. He soon gives up and looks around for someone else with his eyes until he lands on an elderly woman with milky eyes but who Shota knows sees better than all of them combined. She is one of the few that all the heroes exchange a couple of words with each time they come and end up with several words of sage advice.

The man loudly repeats the director's question, the woman examines them all with her eyes, as if she wants to gauge their intentions even after all those years, but in the end she nods.

“Fourteen, about to turn fifteen, both of them," she says and then goes back to striking up a conversation with a Midnight who looks like a little girl being scolded. 

Nezu makes a contemplative sound and all the heroes around feel a shiver go down their spines.

“You say they're coming to help?”

“Sometimes, the green-haired one especially," he shakes his head. “They can be devils if they get angry but they're generally good people," Nezu nods a little, grinning with all his teeth when he notices his colleagues eyeing him suspiciously.

“I think we should meet those lovely children!” He doesn't wait for a response but stands up and walks over to where the trio is watching them. Shota lets out a tired sigh but follows his boss, feeling the presence of Hizashi and Snipe at his sides.

The first thing he notices when he's at a decent distance is that the three can by no means be described as charming. They are still children, sure, even if the girl is of age, but none of them have too many soft features. Instead they have slender bodies, one more well-groomed than the other two, their eyes attentive but tired, and parts of their clothes patched.

The second thing he notices is the way they stand. The girl is the first to see them approach, she is tall and sitting cross-legged over one of the buckets. She looks relaxed but her shoulders are a little higher than normal and she interrupts an exhale from her cigarette. She wears heavy makeup that matches the electric blue locks of her split-ended hair. She raises an eyebrow at them, haughtily.

The second boy looks the youngest: short, thin, a prominent bruise barely hidden by his dirty blond hair that falls ungracefully over half his face. He is the one who moves the most when he sees them coming, uncoils his legs from where he was sitting on the ground and approaches the third boy, trembling.

The third and last one is the only one Shota could describe as better groomed. He's short but not as short as the other, cheeks dotted with freckles a little fuller. His green hair is a mess on top of his head that bends down to hide his eyes when he sees them coming. He's the most confident standing of the three, though he still keeps his shoulders tense, moving just enough to get the other boy behind him. For some reason the gesture leaves him feeling slightly wobbly.

Nezu, being the rat that he is, greets the boys in his usual excited voice, and asks them their names.

“And why should we say it?” asks the girl, leaning her body in an attempt to look threatening.

“Manners, of course. We would introduce ourselves, but I'm afraid it would be redundant. But I can understand if you don't feel comfortable, do you have a nickname you're comfortable with?”

The older woman lets out a laugh, followed by a long puff on her cigarette.

“Nicknames, huh? Around here we have a lot of nicknames. I don't know what four heroes want with rats like us but that's okay, I guess. I'm Sun, this dwarf over here is uh... Ratto” ignore the offended sound of the blond “and this is-”

“Izuku," cuts the green-haired one.

“Boring, but yeah, that's Izuku.”

Nezu nods, flashing an amused but friendly smile. The children squirm uncomfortably.

“Thank you for introducing yourselves, and don't worry, I'm just here to talk. You see, my colleagues and I were curious about the three kids coming to help clean up”

“What can I say, we know what it's like to be in this shit and it's one of the few places they don't think we're going to rob them or something.”

“What Sun means is that we know a lot of the people who sleep here and they're good people. They don't deserve to live in filth and many are too old to do so, so we come to help” the green one, Izuku, says.

“An admirable mission, if I must say so. May I ask how old they are? They look too young to have finished their education.”

“Sun is eighteen, Ratto and I will be fifteen, but I guess you already knew that, Principal Nezu.”

“What can I say? I'm curious! And what's your favorite subject?”

Shouta finds it a little strange that Nezu of all people went out of his way to talk to those three. Not because he considered them unworthy of his time, no, as the smartest being anywhere Nezu went he tended to ignore most things that weren't strange or would especially capture his attention. That wasn't the first time the heroes had encountered a group of children in any of the places they helped, and while they are certainly intriguing, Shouta can't see why Nezu would particularly want to talk to them.

The way he asks about little things, the way his language is much more controlled than usual to be more open while still maintaining that aura of respect... Nezu doesn't usually care about all those aspects at once unless he needs to. The director only takes that special interest when he's planning something or putting together a new puzzle. And Shouta has only seen him act like that with other humans he doesn't know when....

The program.

Could that be it, would he be seriously considering doing it?

As if reading his thoughts he notices how the director turns slightly towards him, barely enough for him to look at the contour of his face for the second his smile turns from that of friendly director to hero on a mission. And that's it. 

Confirmation of what Nezu is trying to do hits Shota with the force of a truck. He watches, his disbelief cloaked in a perfect mask of indifference as Nezu asks the younger ones about their academic records, sneaking in little tidbits of information about the advantages of UA's facilities and its aid programs, causing the blond-haired boy's eyes to grow brighter and brighter until, without realizing it, he has left his place behind the other.

And that's when the green-haired boy intervenes.

“And what's the point of telling us all this, director?” The tone, though respectful, darkens a bit at the title. “I'm sorry if I sound accusatory, but you understand better than anyone how difficult it would be for us to pass the exams when we've had a substandard education in recent years. And even if we did pass, I doubt we could impose such an expense on our families.”

The director hums, his body rocking back and forth on his heels in a clear attempt to appear less threatening. It partially works because the girl lets out a snort of laughter and lowers her shoulders a bit, though the green-haired one remains unperturbed. Shouta has to hide a smile behind his scarf when he notices Nezu notices as well.

“Well, there's still almost a year before they have to take the exams, plenty of time to prepare. And you can confirm that UA offers extra help to those who are interested in our program," The statement is accompanied by a wink, to which the blond replies with an excited tug on his companion's arm.

“So is it true, does the Nozomu program really exist?”

Shouta feels his eyebrows involuntarily rise in surprise. Hizashi at his side lets out an exclamation, covering Snipe's own reaction. Not many people know about the program, let alone its official name, in fact he doesn't think anyone but the UA faculty does, and that blond boy, who looks as excited as if someone had hung all the stars in the sky on his ceiling. He wonders if Nezu somehow knew about this kid and his interest and had orchestrated it all for this moment. Sounds a bit far-fetched, even by the rat's standards.

“I've heard a lot about it, though not that much, not many forums mention him even though there have been many beneficiaries in the last decade? Is it true that it gives financial aid, and that you don't need a guardian's approval, as long as the file is clean? I have so many questions. Izuku first told me about it years ago when I was still interested in getting into UA, but I didn't know his name and looked it up on his page but there was hardly anything, but now that he confirmed it I…” the boy is cut off by the green-haired one, who gives him a gentle smack on the head. It's interesting to watch the way the taller boy's green eyes soften at the grimace of embarrassment the blond lets out. It doesn't last, because he immediately turns to face the rat.

“Is it true?”

“Of course it is! In fact you can look up more information on our official website! I recommend inspecting our history section, I'm sure you'll find it interesting.”

Another wink, this time acknowledged with a more open exclamation of joy from the blond, who hurries to look at the other with hopeful eyes until the latter relents and hands him what Shouta recognizes as an average phone. That only further emphasizes his belief that wherever he stays is at least more careful than the other two.

Soon the blond is perfectly distracted typing rapidly on the device. Meanwhile the girl has gone back to smoking, moving a little further away from them so they don't smell as much. The only one left is the green-haired one, who has resumed his arms-crossed position, but is shifting uncomfortably, as if he doesn't know how to act now that he has no one to protect. Again, it is the director who jumps into a conversation.

“What about you, Izuku? Aren't you interested?”

“Not particularly," he says, shrugging his shoulders. It would have been more believable if Shouta hadn't noticed how his eyes flashed with barely contained excitement earlier.

“And may I ask for what reason?”

The boy hesitates, giving a distrustful glance at the four heroes standing near him. Shouta wouldn't admit that the gesture hurts him more than he lets on. As much as he hates the heroic system and the whole act, he knows that children are supposed to look up to heroes and feel safe with them, but the boy, Izuku, seems anything but relaxed with them.

(The feeling that maybe they should have let Nezu handle this alone starts to build up in his gut. But it's too late to leave without making the boy more uncomfortable, so he ignores her.)

“From what I've heard from some people here you're really smart and have really good grades.”

“Grades aren't everything, principal” The words come out with the ease of someone who has heard them a hundred times. Nezu nods.

“You're right, but in this case those same grades can get you into a good school, so I think they do matter as long as you also learn. And the only way you don't learn something but keep good grades is through memorization, which would make you know things but not understand them, or through cheating, do you cheat, Izuku?”

The change is immediate. In the blink of an eye the boy goes from a closed but calm child to clenching his fists in barely concealed fury.

“I don't cheat! I got all my grades because I earned them, no matter what anyone else says!”

The principal barely blinks, as if already expecting the outburst. Which affirms his theory that this had all been planned somehow. Then he sees the boy step back, barely an almost imperceptible step, as if expecting the principal to scold him. His green eyes focus on them all looking for sudden movements and Shouta makes an effort to stay as still as possible. The headmaster holds up his hands appeasingly.

“Okay, I believe you, but I can't think of a reason why you wouldn't want to apply.”

The boy scoffs, opens and closes his mouth as if he wants to say something. The rat and the heroes wait patiently for several minutes. Izuku, perhaps noticing that they won't leave until they have an answer, frowns and rises to his full height, which isn't much but makes him look tougher than before.

“I don't think you want me at your school.”

“And why not?”

“Because I don't have quirk.”

Somehow that admission is what surprises Nezu. It only lasts for a moment and there's not much to give it away, except that Shouta knows the principal and the same disbelief overwhelms him. 

“But that's impossible!” Hizashi squeaks. The expression only makes the boy tense up more, now ready to run.

Shouta wants to curse, but he knows it's not Hizashi's fault, he's surprised too, although he's seen quirkless people before, he's never seen anyone that age (no one of the younger generation that has survived that long). He still remembers the news a few months ago, a small article published by a little known period that Shouta had found at the end of a patrol and had taken a look at, detailing an approximate number of quirkless people under the age of twenty. So few... And that boy, that boy is one of them. 

“I can assure you, Present Mic, that many doctors confirmed it and I even have the extra joint in my toe” his tone, much colder than before puts his hero instincts on edge. And he's not the only one. He feels, rather than sees, how the girl crushes his cigarette and comes closer, standing next to Izuku.

“Excuse the brat here, sometimes he gets too... energetic” her smile is strained, a sharp edge as she watches the heroes. However, it's not hard for Shouta to see the nervousness beneath all that facade, the fear in her posture as she turns to the boy and presses his shoulder. Izuku makes a visible effort to relax, opening and closing his fists until he manages to compose himself, leaning in a perfect ninety degrees.

“I'm sorry for my outburst. I understand your disbelief, statistics are usually quite descriptive with the small number of us” That's an understatement.

“No, no need to apologize, little listener! I shouldn't have reacted the way I did, you just surprised me!”

The boy nods, but adds no more and turns back to Nezu as he clears his throat.

“While that's an unexpected situation, I don't see how that can affect his academic performance.”

“That's what I've been telling him! You see, Izuku, I'm right!”

“As you know, UA has removed its ban towards people like your case so that they can apply, and the program can support you financially if it's a problem.”

He doesn't know why, but he waits with bated breath as the boy's gaze shifts from studying Nezu, to Rat- to the blond-haired boy, who is still amused with the phone, the exaggerated affirmative gestures of Sun, Snipe, Hizashi and Shouta himself. After a moment he sighs and puts his hands in his pockets.

“I guess it doesn't hurt to try," he says, but this time he can't hide his excitement. He gives a small smile and the gesture makes him look more like the child he is than he has in the past hour. Next to him Hizashi lets out a coo, delighted.

“Excellent! I hope to see you in general studies!”

“General studies? I thought all courses were open for the program?”

Nezu pauses. Wow, two in one conversation, is this a miracle?

“Of course! Although I didn't see you as a person who was interested in finance support, then? I think Ratto mentioned that you had won an international math competition, that's even more incredible without a mental quirk!”

For some reason the last statement makes the smile completely disappear. His eyes become icy, closed as they were at the beginning of their conversation. Still he offers a polite smile.

“Of course, I have a passion for numbers. And thank you director, I will take your recommendation into account.”

The conversation doesn't progress much from there. A few more words are exchanged, some pleasantries from the boy and a few curt phrases and coy gestures from Sun and Ratto, and then the heroes return to their rounds in the shelter.

It's not until a few hours later that they leave when Shouta comes over to ask Nezu if his interest in the children was a coincidence. 

“It's not, I got a mail a few weeks ago from Mrs. Hayashi about two children and their adult friend and since I was worried they might not get into a good high school I obviously had to check it out for myself! but yes, her observations were quite accurate.”

Mrs. Hayashi, the old lady who treats them all as her own grandchildren, who lives off the kindness of others. You don't want to know how much effort she had to put in to be able to send a single email.

“So you knew that boy didn't have a quirk?” asks Snipe, breaking the silence in which he had been kept until that moment.

“No, I didn't want to check his files, I needed a clear mind for this meeting. I must admit it was a surprise, from the way many there describe him, it almost sounded like he had a mental quirk.”

“Well, no doubt the little listener is capable! I can't wait to see him in my class in general studies or finance!”

“Stop getting attached so fast, Hizashi, it's disgusting.”

“Shoutaaaaaaa!”

...

Izuku sees the heroes' backs as they drive off, carrying empty boxes to load onto the truck. He can feel a strange bubbling in his stomach, a mixture of anger and disappointment. He tries to push it away, clearing his expression when he notices Sun's gaze.

“That was something, uh," she says, taking a longer puff than usual. He nods, understanding what she's referring to. It's easy to notice the way she tries to wipe the sweat from his hands on her ripped shorts, or how her eyes don't leave the door of the lodge until many minutes after the heroes have left.

“Yeah, I didn't expect them to come today” as usual Joy's tone is so low that it would go unnoticed if it weren't for the fact that they are both used to it. The three of them have moved in those moments, moving closer to the point where Izuku can feel the two's shoulders colliding with his own “-but Ratton? Really?”

Sun makes a noncommittal noise, but doesn't hide the cheeky grin.

“What?” 

“Of all the nicknames you could choose?”

“You want to get into AU don't you?” Maybe Nezu will let you in if he thinks you want to be related to him or something.

“That doesn't even make sense!”

It's not the first time they've had a similar discussion. Sun has always enjoyed rubbing Joy's wires ever since they discovered it was the only way to get him out of his shy shell and Joy is too accommodating to ignore. Usually Izuku would join them by taking a side or just enjoying the free entertainment, but this time he's quick to tune out.

Nezu's words keep swimming around in his head. There's something about what he said, the way he said it, that makes her want to grind her teeth. It's a little strange the feeling, it feels too hot, too intense to be anything other than anger. He's not used to feeling it, that was always more about Bakugo and his incessant explosions, or the fighters in the ring he watches every week from Han's private balcony. Feeling this way brings a strange taste to his mouth, causing him to be unable to stop thinking about it.

General Studies. The words echo over and over, stopped in a loop. Why had that been his first suggestion, he wants to ask, but he knows, oh, he knows too well. Maybe the real question isn't that, but why were they all the same...really no one is able to see him anywhere else...couldn't they just learn of his status without quirks and stop jumping to the conclusion that he was destined to always be among the extras? even Nezu, the most intelligent being in Japan, had done it. Even knowing his talent in mathematics, he had not considered finance as a first choice, until Izuku was incredulous, let alone how he had dismissed the heroic course outright.

It was like being in Aldarea all over again. Aldarea, the supermarkets, the park, the police station... he hates it, hates it so much that he barely notices how Sun takes his face and guides a new cigarette to his lips until he has already inhaled once. As expected he starts coughing almost immediately, used to but still uncomfortable with the smell after all those years.

He notices the concerned looks from his friends. From Joy Ratton, who he had seen become with each new foster home a shadow of the boy he met at the Circle years ago and Sun, who had been living off her own body for a while now when her aunt and uncle kicked her out on the street for her villainous quirk. That forces him to calm down, taking a deep breath until he feels within his senses again.

He imagines that they are both aware of what bothers him, they have known him for more than five years now, and that, in the circles in which they move is a long time. but above all that is what happens among the despised: that everyone understands.

None of the three speak, instead they decide to go out into a nearby alley where they sit on the dirty garbage cans and watch the few people pass by. He doesn't want to admit it, but the talk with the heroes had hurt him more than it should have. Not because they didn't believe in him, but because of the way they all reacted when he said he didn't have quirk.

The way Eraserhead's gaze had softened, Present Mic's scream, Snipe's jump, even Nezu's smirk... almost akin to pity. It hurt because Izuku had grown up admiring each of them, at least until that day and his mother's subsequent death.

It all weighs heavy on him. He knows Han won't be too happy when he finds out how his encounter with other heroes turned out, let alone when he learns that despite everything Izuku is seriously considering the offer. It seems like a waste not to, especially now that he has confirmation that the program is real and applies to people like him.

(It's also a little unbelievable that it is real because he's only known of two other prestigious high schools that accept people without quirks and neither of those are in Japan.)

Doubt arises later that day as he reviews the requirements, lying on an old nest of cushions that Han and he had built long ago but that neither of them wanted to remove. The computer is before his eyes as he somehow hears what he thinks would be the reaction of his former Aldarea colleagues if they knew.

How could someone like him do it? Far from his former dream, UA is one of the top schools for a reason. Its exams are difficult, the number of applicants is almost incalculable, and the acceptance rates for scholarships per year could be counted on one's hands and still have fingers left over.

But that's all the more reason to try, isn't it, the impossibilities? Izuku has somehow always found himself facing impossibilities.

So why not do it? The worst that can happen is that he becomes the laughing stock of Japan for a while until some new news makes him forget, and if that happens Izuku can take refuge in Han's workshop, or change his name or some other nonsense. And if he doesn't get in it's not like it makes much difference to his current situation either.

And so, Izuku makes up his mind. But he doesn't stop there, because as the days and months go by (and he studies with the material Joy finds hidden in the History section of the UA website) his resentment for the director's words and the reaction of the other heroes grows to the point where he hardly sleeps, until one day, practically out of nowhere, an epiphany comes to him.

Why should he try out only for General Studies and Finance? He remembers All Might and Kaachan and his mother and a crazy plan begins to form in his mind. Well, he already thinks he doesn't stand much of a chance of getting in when the school board notices his quirk-free status, never mind that it's just finance. That way at least he can give them something to talk about can't he, as they say, go big or go home.