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“Hey, Mom! I’m Home!” Izuku called out as he removed his signature red sneakers and put on a pair of slippers. He heard a commotion coming from the kitchen that sounded like his mother scrambling for something. She probably wasn’t expecting him to be home so early.
“Izu! Darling!” The woman came rushing out, a bowl of semi-mixed ingredients in one hand and a whisk in the other. “I thought you weren’t supposed to be here until after five!” she said, confirming his previous thoughts. Izuku smiled warmly at her before giving her a quick hug.
“Aizawa-sensei let us out early,” he explained. “He said since his lesson ended early, we could spend the rest of the time however we wanted. And I wanted to see my mom.”
“Oh, Honey, that’s so sweet of you!” Inko cooed as he walked with her back towards the kitchen. “Is Aizawa-san the one who had to apologize for the camp being attacked?”
“It wasn’t his fault,” the teen said, defensively.
“Oh, I know that,” Inko rolled her eyes at him. “I just want to make sure I know who your teachers are. Could you hand me that pan up there?”
“Sure, Mom.” Izuku pulled the step-stool out of the corner and did as he was asked. “What’re you making?”
“Dorayaki. Did you know that mothers are supposed to know their kids’ teachers’ names?”
Izuku frowned. “Isn’t that a dessert?” he asked. A memory of him as a child asking for Dorayaki for dinner flashed through his head as well as his mother’s response ‘no, Sweetie, that’s a dessert food and we can’t afford it right now.’ He had never asked for it again.
“I was watching this show the other day,” Inko continued, as she whisked the ingredients together, “where they asked dads about their kids and then they’d bring in the mom and ask the same questions and one of the questions were about their teacher’s names,” she put the bowl down on the counter and turned to her son. “And while I was watching that, I realized, I haven’t known your teacher’s names since Hajime-san, your third-year homeroom teacher in Elementary.”
Izuku skillfully hid his disappointed look by turning away. Hajime-sensei had been his Nursery school teacher.
“Aizawa-sensei is my homeroom teacher,” he said, figuring he’d help her with this . . . whatever-it-was. “Yamada-sensei is my English teacher. Kayama-sensei teaches Modern Hero Art History. Nise-sensei teaches math. Ishiyama-sensei teaches modern literature. And Tan’i-sensei and All Might teach heroics.”
His mother sighed and looked at him like he’d just told her how to build a rocket. “How do you remember all that?”
They’ve been my teachers for several months now.
“They’re all heroes, so I guess I just picked it up.”
“Well, at least that odd hobby of yours was good for something.” She didn’t say it in a malicious manner, but it still felt to Izuku that she had just plunged a dagger into his heart. He’d spent so much time analyzing his heroes and putting everything into his notebooks. Poured his heart and soul into them. Those notebooks had become his life and helped him immensely since he enrolled at UA, and all his mother had to say about them was, ‘at least they’re good for something.’
Izuku closed his eyes and inhaled deeply as he mentally pushed his feelings away. His mom was only human. She didn’t mean to hurt him.
“Want me to help?” he asked, plastering a smile on his face. Inko glanced at him for a second before returning to her task.
“Uh, no?” she responded uncertainly. Then, suddenly, “Oh, wait! Yes! Run to the store and grab a can of whipped cream, okay?”
“I’m on it,” the teen said with a sharp nod as he headed back towards the front door and put his shoes back on. “I’ll be back in a bit. Love you!” he called out as he walked out the door.
“I love you, too!” Inko replied just before the door closed behind him.
Izuku ran over to the nearest store to get the requested item and headed back home. Altogether, it took him about fifteen minutes, and soon enough he had reentered his home, switching shoes for the third time and opening his mouth to call out a greeting. But before he could make a sound, he heard a deep voice speaking with his mom in the other room. Izuku frowned, his brows drawing together. The voice sounded familiar, but he couldn’t quite place where he’d heard it before.
With his curiosity peaked, Izuku silently crept towards the dining room, where the voices were coming from. Peering around the doorway, the first thing the teen saw was the back of a tall, thin man wearing a dark grey suit talking to his mom. He knew he’d seen the man before. He could feel a sense of familiarity with him.
“Izu!” his mom cried happily when she finally spotted him. “Look who’s back!”
‘Back’? Izuku wondered as the man turned around. He had grey hair that fell in curls around his face. His eyes were thin and yellow and he had many freckles dotting his nose and cheeks.
“Dad?” he asked, incredulously. Hisashi smiled and pulled his son into a hug. Izuku tensed slightly in the man’s arms.
“Hey, Son! It’s been a while!” Hisashi let the teen go, but not before forcefully ruffling his green hair. “How’s school been?”
“Um, fine?” Izuku responded, suddenly feeling small. He took a small step away from the man.
“Just ‘fine’?” Hisashi laughed good-naturedly. “You’re going to UA--the best hero school in Japan and you’re being taught by All Might and all you can say about it is ‘fine’?”
“I-it’s good,” Izuku amended. “What are you doing here?”
“Your dad’s home for the week!” Inko said, stepping forward and taking the whipped cream from her son. “Isn’t that great?”
“What kind of dad would I be if I didn’t come visit my son?” Hisashi said before the teen could answer. “Especially when he has such a powerful quirk!” His parents began talking to each other again, leaving him alone as they went to finish cooking in the kitchen.
Izuku remembered the last time he saw the man was soon after he’d been to the doctor and was told he’d never develop a quirk. A part of him felt bitter that it took getting One For All for Hisashi to come home.
Almost as soon as that thought entered his brain, Izuku shook his head to dispel it. It didn’t matter why his dad had decided to visit. What mattered was that he was there now. He was trying and Izuku owed it to both his parents to try, too.
“Hey, Izu?” his mom’s voice called from the kitchen, shaking him from his meditative state. “Set the table for us, please?”
“Sure, Mom!” he called back, pulling the smile back onto his face as he did as he was told, pulling three plates from the cupboard and placing them on the table. Shortly after that, his parents came in from the kitchen with the food and they sat down to eat.
“So, Izuku,” Hisashi said after a minute. “Who’s your favorite hero?”
Izuku grinned and told him proudly. “All Might!”
“All Might doesn’t count, since he retired,” the man shook his head.
“He’s still a hero to me,” the teen replied, his grin only fading slightly. Hisashi nodded his understanding.
“Fair enough. What about your second favorite hero, then?”
This time, Izuku had to really think about his answer. “Hmm,” he hummed as he thought through every hero he knew of. There were so many of them who did incredible things and saved countless lives, but he found the one who came to the forefront of his mind was the one that was there for almost every League attack. “My homeroom teacher, Eraserhead,” he answered. Hisashi frowned.
“I don’t think I know that one. What’re they like?”
“He’s an underground hero,” the teen replied, excitedly. “His quirk lets him erase the quirks of anyone within his sight.”
“Sounds like a villain quirk,” the man muttered with a disapproving shake of his head.
“Well, it’s not,” Izuku said defensively. “Eraserhead was there when the USJ was attacked and when the League of villains showed up at the training camp.”
“Then he must be terrible at his job. I can’t believe he let you kids get hurt twice.”
“He didn’t, though,” Izuku frowned at his father. “He protected us.”
Hisashi looked at him for a minute, shocked, before he smiled again and reached out to ruffle Izuku’s hair.
“What a wonderful son we’ve raised, Inko,” the man said, praising himself and his wife. “He always sees the best in people!”
Inko rolled her eyes and smiled lovingly at him. “I believe I get to take most of the credit for that, sweetie.”
Her words felt like someone had punched Izuku in the gut. Weren’t his accomplishments his own? Wasn’t he his own? How he chose to view the world and the people in it was his own and here his parents were, taking credit for things they had no control over.
“I’m pretty sure this parenting thing is a two-person job.”
Don’t you have to have a kid to be a parent? Izuku thought. Wouldn’t that make it a three-person job?
“Let’s be honest, Hisashi,” Inko countered. “You haven’t exactly been pulling your weight.”
“That was because I couldn’t afford to come back very often,” the man said in his defense. “But I got a raise recently, so I’ll be back often to catch up.”
As they bantered, a pit grew in Izuku’s stomach. They were talking like he was a piece of furniture or some pet.
“Well, you have a long way to go,” Inko replied. “I’ve been there for Izu since he was a baby. Isn’t that right, dear?”
“. . . No,” Izuku answered. The two adults looked at him, alarmed. As if they’d forgotten he was there. Inko leaned closer to her son.
“What did you say?” She asked. “I don’t think I heard you correctly.”
“You weren’t there for me,” Izuku said, a little louder.
“What are you talking about? I was there when the doctor said you were quirkless.”
“Yeah,” the teen nodded. “You were there. You were there for that doctor’s appointment. But you weren’t there for me . You weren’t there for me when I asked if you thought I could still be a hero. You weren’t there for me when I was accused of cheating in class. Hell, you probably wouldn’t have let me go to UA if I didn’t get a quirk!” Izuku said, standing over his parents with a scowl on his face. He couldn’t remember rising from his seat, but he didn’t feel like caring at the moment.
“Now hold on,” Hisashi said, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. “Your mom isn’t perfect, but she’s doing her best. She practically had to raise you on her own, so-”
“And whose fault is that?” Izuku interrupted, turning to the man. “You left for America real fast after learning I was quirkless.”
“I didn’t leave because of you, Izuku,” Hisashi said as he rose from his chair. “I was offered a good job and I took it.”
“It doesn’t matter why you left!” Izuku raised his voice. “I needed you, and you weren’t there!”
“Izuku!” now it was Inko’s turn to stand. “Hisashi didn’t intend to hurt you!”
“But I still got hurt!”
“Dammit, Izuku! That was years ago! Just get over it!”
“ ‘Get over it’!?” Izuku let out a humorless laugh. “I was hurt and you want me to-!? Gah!” he threw his hands in the air and stormed out of the room. He needed to get out of there before it got any worse.
“Izuku, get back here and apologize to your mother!” his father yelled after him. The teen didn’t listen. Before either adult could stop him, he ran out the front door and down the street.
He ran as far and as fast as he could and he didn’t stop until his legs burned from the exercise and his lungs couldn’t take in enough oxygen to keep his head right. Then he found an empty alleyway he could crawl into, curled up in a ball against a cold stone wall next to a pile of trash, and cried. His body racked with sobs as tears streamed down his face. Every time he tried to calm himself down, a new wave of emotions called more tears to his eyes.
Izuku didn’t know how long he spent hunched over next to a heap of garbage, but when the sound of heavy boots thumped onto the ground in front of him and he looked up to see who was there, there was a dark sky with gloomy clouds rolling in, as a perfect backdrop to the grim features of his teacher, Aizawa.
“Midoriya?” the man said, frowning at the state his student was in. Izuku quickly scrubbed at his face, trying to erase the evidence of his misery.
“H-hey sensei!” he said, sniffing. “I’m okay!”
The response he got was a tired sigh. Then Aizawa leaned his back against the wall and gently lowered himself to sit next to his student.
“You wanna try that again, Problem Child?” he asked.
“Try what?” Izuku tried to play dumb.
“The truth,” Aizawa said, a hint of fondness in the edges of his voice
“Oh, that.” Izuku gulped, then mumbled, “I got in a fight with my parents. And I might’ve run away.”
“‘Might’ve’? You don’t know if you ran away or not?”
“I didn’t mean to! I just had to-” he drew in a sharp breath as a new wave of tears slipped down his cheeks. “I had to get away!” He broke down again, trying to explain himself through bursts of sobs and intense stuttering. A minute later, Aizawa draped an arm around him and pulled Izuku into his side.
“You couldn’t grab a jacket on your way out?” the man asked and all at once Izuku realized how cold it had gotten. As if in response to his discovery, his body shivered and he pressed himself further into Aizawa’s warmth. The man responded in kind, trying to give the kid as much shelter as he could provide at that moment.
“S-sometimes I think they don’t see me,” Izuku murmured. “They just see a project or an old piece of furniture.” Aizawa hummed.
“I don’t do ‘relationship advice’,” he admitted. “But I do know some people who could offer some if you want it. Tsukauchi, or any of your teachers at UA. I’m sure your friends would be of some help, if you wanted to talk to them.” The man stopped and looked at the teen.
Izuku frowned, shaking his head. “I- I’d rather not tell people about this,” he confided. Aizawa sighed.
“Then I guess you only have two choices.”
Izuku looked up at him and waited.
“You can either go back and talk it out with them, or you can tell them you need time to calm down and stay at my place until then.” Aizawa looked up at the sky and frowned. “You better hurry up and choose, kid. I’d rather not be outside when the rain starts.”
“Are you sure it’s okay for me to stay with you?” Izuku wasn’t ready to go back to his parents. The man gave him a tired look.
“I wouldn’t have offered if it wasn’t. Besides, my apartment is more like a free hotel than anything else, given how often heroes stop by for a quick rest.” He paused for a moment before asking, “You wanna stay with me?”
Izuku nodded.
“Alright, then,” he stood up and stretched, then helped up the teen. “Do you have your phone on you?”
The teen nodded and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He pressed the power button to turn it on and frowned when the screen didn’t light up. “I need to charge it,” he said. Aizawa hummed a low note.
“I have plenty of chargers lying around my apartment. When we get there we’ll find one that fits your phone. As soon as you can turn it on I want you to text your mom so she knows you’re okay.”
“Okay.”
The man nodded and led his student to his apartment. Izuku didn’t pay any attention to their surroundings, too focused on his own thoughts to care about the world around them. Multiple times on their trek, Aizawa would put out an arm to keep him from walking into oncoming traffic or pull him to the side to avoid running into a pole. Each time this happened, the man would mutter something about situational awareness under his breath.
They arrived at their destination just as the rain started to fall and Aizawa pushed open the door and stepped inside his smallish apartment. Izuku followed after him, kicking off the slippers he’d been wearing when he left his parents and putting on a pair that the man offered him. Then Aizawa looked around and let out a small, annoyed breath.
“Zashi,” he whispered and Izuku followed his gaze to the couch where he could see Present Mic sleeping in his hero outfit, his spiked up hair a tangled, drooping mess. On the floor next to him was Kamui Woods. Aizawa looked back at Izuku with a deadpan expression. “You see what I mean? Free hotel.”
They walked further inside, passing by the kitchen, and stopped in front of a door. “Wait here,” the man said before he gently opened the door and peered inside. Izuku heard the man sigh again before he closed the door.
“Well, kid,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. “We’ve got a few options here. We can kick Mic off the couch so you can sleep there. Or we could force Midnight to leave the guest bedroom.”
Izuku bit his lip. He didn’t like forcing people to do things just so he could be comfortable. “Are there any other options?”
“Yes,” Aizawa nodded. “But I’m not sure you’d like it.” He waited for Izuku to say something. When he didn’t, he continued. “You can stay in my room. But just so you know, it’s rather small and we will have to share a bed.”
“Oh,” Izuku looked down, thinking. He was about to ask if it was actually okay for him to sleep in the man’s room when Aizawa’s earlier words repeated in his mind. He felt his face heat up as he gave his answer. “I want to sleep in your room . . . if that’s okay,” he added the last part in a rushed whisper.
“Sure thing,” Aizawa responded as if it wasn’t a big deal. “But only after we both take showers.” The man led Izuku to the bathroom. “Use whatever you like. Towels are in the cupboard under the sink. Give me your phone, and I’ll see if I can find a charger for it. I’ll leave a change of clothes outside the door for you. They’ll be a bit large, but I don’t usually have small people over.”
“I’m not small,” the teen argued as he entered the bathroom.
“You keep telling yourself that, kid.” Aizawa closed the door and ended their conversation.
“I’m not small,” Izuku repeated stubbornly before removing his grimy clothes and stepping into the shower. For a while, he stood under the running water and just let it warm him up a bit before washing away the filth that had gathered in his hair and on his body. Once he was clean, he got out of the shower and began drying himself off. Then he opened the door a little bit and grabbed the clothes Aizawa left for him and put them on.
After checking himself in the mirror one last time, Izuku exited the bathroom. Across from the guest bedroom was another door that was slightly open with light streaming out of it and the teen cautiously went inside. Aizawa looked up from his phone and greeted his student.
“Well, that’s interesting,” the man said, looking at Izuku.
“What is?” the teen replied.
“You look kinda smallish in those clothes,” Aizawa said, smirking. Izuku glared at him.
“Your phone’s over there,” the man said as he pointed to where Izuku’s phone was charging on the floor. Then he left the room with his own change of clothes. The teen went over to his device and turned it on. he opened his text messages and sent a quick message to his mom saying he was safe and that he was staying with someone while he calmed down. As soon as his phone said the text was sent, he turned it off and waited on the bed for Aizawa to return.
Left in the quiet, Izuku’s mind wandered through his memories. He searched through every one that hadn’t faded with time, trying to think of a single instance when he’d felt lonely or sad and either one of his parents had been there for him. Or when he’d felt it was safe to go to them with a problem he was having. It wasn’t fair to say they were never there for him. He was sure that if he thought hard enough, he’d find a moment, and then he could go apologize and everything would go back to normal. But the only times he could think of were when they were simply present. Growing up, they’d only ever taken care of his physical needs. Which left him as a mess, mentally.
“You didn’t have to wait up for me,” Aizawa’s voice alerted Izuku to his presence. The man was leaning against the doorframe, towel-drying his long hair. “Did you tell your mom what’s up?” Izuku nodded. “How did she respond?”
“I- I don’t know,” the teen said, honestly. “I turned my phone off as soon as I sent the text.”
“Huh,” Aizawa entered the room and closed the door. “Ready for bed?” he asked, turning off the light when Izuku nodded and they both climbed into bed. Aizawa did his best to put space between him and his student, but Izuku kept chasing the warmth his adult body provided. They ended up with Aizawa lying on his back with an arm wrapped around Izuku, and the teen resting his head on the man’s chest.
“My dad said you have a villain quirk,” Izuku said as he waited for sleep to take him.
“Hmm,” Aizawa responded tiredly. “He’s half right. But only because any quirk can be used for villainy.” There was a lull, then the man asked, “Why were you discussing my quirk?”
“He asked me who my favorite hero was,” came the soft answer.
“And you said it was me?” Aizawa asked, disbelief dripping off of every word. Izuku shook his head.
“I said All Might-”
“Now, that I can believe.”
“-and he said he doesn’t count because he’s retired.” Izuku yawned.
“What did you say to that?”
“I told him All Might is still a hero to me.”
Aizawa chuckled and began gently running his fingers through Izuku’s hair. “Then what did he say?”
“He said fine and asked me who my second favorite hero was.”
“And you said hawks, right?”
“No,” Izuku’s head shook again, less enthusiastically as his consciousness began slipping away. “Eraserhead’s my second favorite.” There was a lull in the conversation, but before the teen could fall asleep, Aizawa asked,
“Why is he your second favorite?”
“He’s always there when we need him,” Izuku said, his teacher’s wording separating the two men in his tired mind. “At the USJ and training camp. And he was there for the raid.” He paused, frowning. “When I think about who the best hero is, Eraserhead is just one of the first people who come to mind. He’s always been there for me.”
Aizawa hummed a thoughtful note but didn’t say anything else and Izuku fell asleep moments later.