Work Text:
Midoriya Izuku has a complicated past, a complicated present, and a complicated future.
But mostly present.
Midoriya Izuku also has dreams and aspirations and—completely somewhat unrelated—a loving family.
He has an older brother that could and would burn the world down for him and a father that intends to do just that for him. It’s a little messy, considering their mildly conflicting moral codes, but nonetheless they’re a good family. Happy. Loving. Picture perfect if you don’t look too deep.
Because Izuku’s dad is technically a super villain. A mastermind that intends to hurt and destroy the hero based world they live in. And his brother is following in those footsteps at a leisurely but steady pace.
But Izuku just wants to be a hero. He wants to help and do good and give people like himself hope and someone to look up to. He wants people that are seen as weak and useless to look at him and realise that their fates aren’t horrible like the world is making them believe.
So it’s complicated and messy and jarring to people that learn this information—when Dabi first met Tomura and then met Izuku, the man almost had a heart attack trying to connect they were related. Almost all the villains and regulars at the bar do a double take when they hear Izuku yell ‘nii-san!’ and then run up to Tomura of all people.
Eventually everyone gets used to it though. Accepts it as it is because, yeah, if they look close enough they can see the similarities in personalities and thought patterns, in looks and style.
The only difference is while Tomura’s morals are completely greyed out, edging closer and closer to black with every passing day, Izuku is off white. A light grey that lets them know he sees, he knows the flaws of the world but he has some sort of steel hope encompassing him that he can bring change in an acceptable way.
So they see it.
And they handle it well.
Izuku was apparently much too used to people accepting his lineage, his family. He’s the son of All For One, younger brother of Shigaraki Tomura. That’s just who he is. But he’s also just… Izuku. Midoriya Izuku who had to take his mother’s last name for safety reasons—despite the woman quite literally walking out of his life—because his dad, his brother, and himself, all knew the world wouldn’t accept him if he kept the original one. If he kept Shigaraki.
And somehow those two conflicting truths still trip him up.
He’s used to people accepting his family as it is because of the environment around him. A bar full of criminals, villains, and just unfortunate people don’t really bat an eye, they just accept that at least one of them might make it out of this bullshit with some kind of light in their eyes.
But he also is used to the fact he can’t keep his real family name. Because people would hate him. Would paint him in distrust and fear and maybe even hatred. That he could be pulled from the world for existing all because he is linked to his family.
It’s why his current complicated present is all the more painful.
“Midoriya,” His name is said slowly, with something akin to disdain painting the tone, “If you truly are a good person and want to be a hero—as you claim—then you will tell us everything you can about your family and cut contact with them.”
Izuku can feel his heart breaking. His chest is warm and aching in all the wrong ways. His lungs hurt from trying to control his breathing, from trying to keep down the panic attack that's threatening to surface.
He’s sitting in Nedzu’s office, every staff member of Yuuei in the room with him, and he’s being stared at like he’s bad. Like he’s evil and a traitor. As if he’s already betrayed them when he has no intentions to.
Aizawa is looking at him with something so… disappointed that it makes his throat seize. He wants to scream and cry but he can’t because they could probably twist that into something incriminating; he’s heard enough stories around the bar to know just how unfair heroes and the law can get when they think they know something, when they think they’re right.
Izuku can only whisper, it’s broken and scared sounding even to his own ears, “I can’t.”
Because, yes, he wants to be a hero and change the world for the better and be a person people can look up to and give hope but he’s also a son and a brother and family comes first.
Izuku feels the air shift around him, the atmosphere goes cold and he can see some of his teachers' lips curl in displeasure. It makes him wince, just a little, barely noticeable.
“If you do not cooperate we will have to take extreme measures, Midoriya. Are you aware of that? You are harbouring criminals and villains. You are breaking the law.”
“But I’m not.” He says, voice still cracking because he knows his family says the heroes are bad but he never thought it would be proven to him like this, “They're my family. That’s my father and my brother. I’m not harbouring anyone, I’m living in my home. I haven’t done anything.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees his homeroom teacher’s hair spasm. Strands rising off his shoulders as he activates his quirk but it does nothing to Izuku.
He’s quirkless. He’s just trying to become a hero. He’s just trying to be happy.
All Might speaks up, the man that almost all his family’s hate surrounds, “You’ve done enough is what you’ve done. For all we know you’ve been feeding them information and leading the attacks on your own classmates.”
The man’s voice is scathing. Izuku can almost feel the words being carved into his skin, embedding themselves in his body and mind forever. Izuku flinches, whether from the fear that voice makes arise or the absolute horror that they think he would hurt his classmates. His best friends and boyfriend reside in the 1A classroom. It’s the first class he’s ever had that didn’t automatically hate and belittle him for being quirkless. He treasures them all.
“I haven’t.” There's tears leaking down his cheeks finally. He hears someone scoff.
“Very well. You will be escorted off the grounds and into police custody.” Nedzu states, his perpetual smile is nowhere in sight and his eyes are even less emotive than normal.
Izuku whimpers, curls into himself. His arms wrap around his torso and he’s biting his lip so hard he can see little drops of red falling onto his pants through the tears lining his eyes.
He doesn’t hear the rest of the conversations going on around him but he feels his wrists being pulled in front of him and the cold metal of cuffs tightening around them.
In a daze, clouded by grief and sorrow, he’s forced to stand and then lead out. Aizawa—the only teacher he’s ever truly trusted, the only hero that passed his entire family's tests—has a grip on his shoulder that’s almost painful as he’s guided down the hall. Down flights and flights of stairs.
They pass his classroom, the door wide open, because the world has never been merciful to Izuku. He makes blurry eye contact with Katsuki, with Hitoshi. He feels all their stares trail over him. Eyes darting from his face to their stoic, angry homeroom teacher and then down to the cuffs encircling his wrists.
His already broken heart shatters. Falls completely out of his chest and lands on the floor, he can feel himself walking away from it. Can feel his entire being snap into something pitiful and broken and weak because why is this happening to him?
He doesn’t deserve this.
Or does he?
He can’t really tell anymore. Because everyone has points and most of them are valid.
His family loves and supports him. But his family is bad, evil. He’s smart and training to be a hero. He’s smart and capable of selling information. Of feeding vital weaknesses of pro heroes and students alike to the world’s worst villains. He doesn’t and he hasn’t and he never will but it’s a possibility. He’s the son of a villain so how could he not be.
Right…?
As he’s dragged away he hears Katsuki scream. He hears Hitoshi’s voice rise to something angry and bitter, something he’s never heard before from his quiet best friend.
They never stop moving. Aizawa keeps pushing forward and Izuku can only mumble.
“Kacchan. Toshi. Sorry.”
The apology is something ingrained into him, he doesn’t even really know what he’s apologising for. But Aizawa seems to come to his own conclusions because the man sneers beside him and Izuku can only give in to the impending fog around his mind.
He doesn’t want to endure this. He’d rather drift.
Katsuki screams himself hoarse in the hallway, held back by his annoying fucking classmates and hypocritical, fake fucking pro hero teachers. Hitoshi’s in the same boat. Anger pouring off him in waves that make people flinch because they’ve only ever seen the indigo coloured boy speak minimally, quietly. Never have they seen him seethe and thrash.
When they finally calm down, not that they’re calm at all, just quiet really, do they dip the fuck out of class. They ignore the calls behind them, the threats of detentions and punishments bouncing off them because Izuku needs help.
Katsuki knows who Izuku is related to. Has met them quite a bit over his time being friends with the nerd. He also knows that mumbled, broken, pitiful fucking ‘sorry’ means people somehow found out.
Hitoshi knows Izuku has… a shady family. He’s never met them but he’s been privy to countless questionably sound stories about them. But he also knows that Izuku always looks so happy when he speaks about his family, so they can’t be that bad.
When they reach the dorms, neither hesitate to break into Izuku’s room. Hitoshi collects any and all his analysis notebooks, refusing to let those preciously curated notes fall into evidence bags. And Katsuki calls a number he was given for emergencies only.
The dial tone goes off once.
Twice.
“What the fuck.” Is the lovely, raspy greeting he gets in return. There’s ice clinking in the background along with Animal Crossing’s 1pm music.
Katsuki can’t even make a snarky quip about just how awful Tomura sounds because he’s too high strung right now, too worried out of his fucking mind.
“Izuku’s in trouble.” Not Deku, not ‘Zuku. Izuku.
He hears a glass shatter, either fallen to the floor or thrown against a wall, he doesn’t know.
“Tell me fucking everything.”
And Katsuki spills everything he knows, every clue as to where Izuku might be being taken right now. Everything they may have found out. How the analysis books haven’t been discovered because, though they’re made with the best of intentions, they all know the heroes will twist it in this oh so delicate situation.
By the end of it, Tomura is growling into the phone and Katsuki is close to doing the same. A portal appears and a single pale hand reaches out. A bag, full of loved and cherished notebooks, is thrust forward. Katsuki sees the flicker of recognition flit across Hitoshi’s face at the portal, the horrible understanding dawning in violet eyes.
And then it closes and Katsuki and Hitoshi can only pray something horrible doesn’t happen.
Neither of them are worried about the information in the notebooks being in Shigaraki Tomura’s hands. They know the League won’t touch those notebooks. They all would rather die than break Izuku’s trust like that.
Katsuki just hopes the world won’t burn for wronging Izuku the way it has. Hitoshi hopes the same, even if he has some leeway.
He’s never really liked how people treat him and Izuku. Maybe this mistake will finally make them open their eyes.
The chair he’s in is stiff. It’s made of metal and there’s honest to god chains attached to it, now also attached to Izuku. He’s in cuffs that are connected to the table, and the chair’s own are connected to his ankles.
He’s trapped. Or just stuck.
There’s two officers in the room with him. They’re… not kind. To say the least. Izuku only briefly focused on their words, on the various questions being thrown his way.
“Are you associated with the League Of Villains?”
“Is All For One really your father?”
“Are you related to Shigaraki Tomura?”
“Are you the Yuuei traitor?”
“Have you been selling or freely giving them information?”
“Did you betray the heroes? Your classmates?”
“Do you hate them? Is that it?”
“Are you jealous? It’s because you’re quirkless, right? You go here just so you can pick out the best quirk, huh? Then let daddy take it and give it to you instead?”
“Did you help plan the USJ attack? The attack at the training camp? Are you the reason AFO escaped capture?”
So many accusations, questions, comments.
They all hurt so much.
He tried answering for a while.
Yes, in a way.
Yes.
Yes.
No. There isn’t a traitor.
No.
No. No. No.
When one of them slam a hand on to the table hard enough to make it rattle, to make the legs give for a just a moment. Izuku goes silent.
He’s scared. They’re scaring him.
He wants his dad. He wants his nii-san. He wants Kacchan. He wants 'Toshi. He wants to feel safe.
Going quiet was a bad idea but it’s too late. As soon as his body gave in to silence, it was as if his voice gave out. He can’t make himself speak and he’s shaking so bad there’s tremors racking his whole body. He can barely see in front of him.
His mind goes blank when a hand connects with his cheek. For a moment there’s a sharp stinging sensation, he can feel a cut from where the man’s ring caught across his skin. Then he drifts again. Further out this time.
He drifts and drifts until eventually he feels as if he’s underwater. He’s not there anymore, he’s far away.
Around him, though, the officers continue screaming, continue getting more and more physical.
In the back of his mind, the conscious part of his brain supplies just how wrong this scenario is.
He’s a minor being interrogated without a parent/guardian or lawyer present. He’s been held for at least 3 hours now. No contact has been allowed. No phone calls. No rights being read. And they’re getting physical with him.
What hurts most is that he knows some of his teachers are on the other side of the one way glass. He can feel it, that little sense in the back of his mind that lets him know he’s being watched.
Sometimes, years of bullying and borderline abuse can be helpful. Who knew?
He feels someone seize his collar, dragging him up into the air a little. Making the cuffs around his ankles and wrists dig into his skin even more, they were already red and raw from just how tight they are but with all the jostling Izuku can feel the liquid warmth seeping between flesh and metal.
The door of the interrogation room opens. It’s a creaking thing, slow and unhurried. Izuku feels cold dread settle in his stomach.
But then Dabi steps inside the room and Izuku feels like he can breathe a little again. He can feel his chest start back up as he looks into turquoise eyes that hold something so gentle for Izuku but fill with contempt, with wrath and resentment and hatred as those same eyes set themselves on the officers.
Said officers abruptly let go of his shirt, making him clatter back into the metal chair. He can feel the bruise forming on his tailbone from the impact. But his eyes stay on Dabi despite the wince from pain because there’s already so much that a little more won’t really shake him.
“So,” Dabi drawls, “You guys like to arrest innocent people now, is that right?” His posture is lax in a way that screams power and confidence. Izuku, even through his blurry vision, can see the way the officers sweatdrop.
A voice crackles through the comm system in the room, “Villain Dabi stand down or you will be arrested.”
Dabi laughs, practically cackles at the words. The manic gleam in his eyes finally makes an appearance. “You think you could even touch me, heroes?” He sneers the last word, the revolt he feels towards them palpable.
Izuku’s still floating a little, drifting peacefully in the fog as he tries to find his way back. But he’s cognizant enough to understand and see, he knows that somehow Dabi has the upper hand.
He knows that whatever happens next is the heroes’ fault. Consequences for their actions.
When a cold presence appears beside him and the cuffs on his body magically disappear he slumps against the table. Body giving in to the craving for rest now that his wrists aren’t being torn apart. He wants to sleep. He wants to wake up tomorrow and realise this was all one elaborate nightmare.
“Izu, hey.” A voice sounds at his ear. Gruff and raspy in a way that makes him melt further into the table because that’s-
“Tomu-nii…”
“Yeah, Izu, it’s me. Give me a minute and we’ll get you out of here, okay?”
Izuku thinks he nods but he can’t be sure. His eyes are closed but he can imagine the quiet fury in Tomura’s eyes. Can practically see him scratching away layer after layer of skin on his neck as he tries to keep his cool for Izuku’s sake.
Izuku keeps his eyes closed and his ears focused on the sounds of his own breathing when the yelling breaks out. He can hear the wail of a siren, some kind of alarm, and he can feel an almost unbearable heat surrounding him.
Dabi had to use his quirk. Somewhat unfortunate. Izuku doesn’t like when Dabi uses his quirk because it hurts the man. It makes his skin stiff and it makes smoke leak out of loosely stapled scars and graphs. It usually ends with Izuku babying him for an entire day, making sure he rests and lets it all heal at least a little before he goes and does something reckless again.
The entire league finds it hilarious how Dabi’s mission statement when he joined the league of taking revenge on his family came to bite him in the ass as soon as he met Izuku and immediately went into older brother mode. Yes, Dabi hates his biological family, that may never change, but he loves his new family—the league.
The yelling gets louder until silence cuts through with a resounding bang! which makes Izuku’s entire body jolt.
That was a gun shot.
A gun shot.
Someone was shot at and Izuku doesn’t know if anyone was hit because he’s being a coward and can’t make himself open his eyes. Tomura could be hurt, Dabi could be hurt, if anyone else is there… they could be hurt.
Izuku’s cheeks are wet. He’s crying again. A sad, silent affair that’s between himself and the cool metal of the table.
“Get up, Izuku!” Is the shout that makes him snap to full consciousness. He breaches the fog over his mind and his eyes open immediately. The emotion behind the yell made his body come to on pure instinct, fight and flight instincts making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.
Izuku’s standing up in a daze, he sways for a second before his focus darts around the room to take in the situation.
The room he was being held in wasn’t necessarily big by any means but it wasn’t small either. It was concrete and closed off, no windows beside the one way glass in front of the single table.
Except now the room has doubled in size. The wall where the door resided is completely gone, concrete chunks and broken hinges in piles on the floor. Dabi is holding off Snipe, who Izuku didn’t even know was here with everyone else, as well as All Might. Which could maybe sound hard but the man is not what he used to be, body skinny and face sunken in. His strength pretty much completely sapped from him. So it’s relatively easy for Dabi; his fire melts Snipe’s bullets before they can even get close and All Might is being kept in a very small ring of blue.
Tomura is facing off against Eraserhead and a no-name police officer. It reminds Izuku of the USJ a little too much. Because, yeah, Tomura may be his brother but to watch his brother decay a part of his teacher’s arm and let a horrible beast the doctor thought up slam the man into the ground was a horrible, off-putting experience.
But then Izuku sees in front of himself.
Present Mic.
This is an unfortunate match up. Mic has a long range quirk that is extremely destructive and powerful. And Izuku has no support gear on him so he’s cursed to only close range right now.
Except… they’re in an enclosed space, surrounded by Mic’s colleagues and allies… so the man probably won’t be attempting to use his quirk.
An advantage.
Except Izuku really doesn’t want to fight his teacher. Ex-teacher? He doesn’t really know what to call him. He has no clue what happens after this. If he defends himself it’s another strike against him in Yuuei’s eyes, no doubt. And even with all this he wants to be a hero but Yuuei is probably completely out of the picture now. But they also control his records so if he gets any more marks on his record no other school would take him in.
He needs to get around this.
“Kurogiri?” Izuku whispers, praying that the man is listening in somehow. “Can you get us out of here?”
Then there’s an abrupt chill throughout the room. An ozone smell in the air as three portals appear and descend onto Izuku, Tomura, and Dabi.
They got out. All of them pretty much unscathed if you don’t count Dabi’s semi-self-inflicted injuries from quirk use.
Izuku blinks, eyes adjusting from going from the bright LEDs of the interrogation room to the dim lit bar, and then he shatters.
His legs give out, falling to the floor as he curls around himself and presses the heels of his palms into his eyes to try and stave off the fresh wave of tears. His head hurts and his stomach is churning from how much he’s cried today, from how much grief he’s feeling.
Arms wrap around him and hair tickles the side of his face as someone presses into him, “Oh, Izu-kun, please don’t cry!”
Himiko. His mind supplies blandly before he wraps his own around her, seeking comfort and warmth.
Izuku doesn’t know how but somehow she moves him, willing him to stand as he leans heavily onto her and she takes them upstairs to the apartment overhead. To where Izuku can cry and scream and break in a place that won’t judge.
He passes out eventually, still tucked into Himiko’s side. There was a hand in his hair, gently carding through his curls and another rubbing circles into his back. On the brink of giving in to sleep, he thinks someone starts treating the broken skin around his wrists.
Izuku has a complicated past. His father and brother left for ‘America’ when he was 6. Leaving him alone with his mother until he was 8 and she ‘couldn’t take it anymore’.
Izuku has a complicated present. His world is falling apart around him. His dream to be a hero is probably out of his hands at this point. The news of who he’s related to is probably sweeping across reports and classrooms already. He has no idea if he’ll be able to see Katsuki and Hitoshi again without them facing consequences.
Izuku has a complicated future. He has paths set out in front of him and none of them are easy. He could fight to be a hero. He could set out as a vigilante. He could finally give into his family’s whims and become a villain.
It’s complicated.
But for now, he’ll rest.