Archive of Our Own

The clock reads 13:42. Toshinori huffs and tries to turn his attention back to marking papers. He can't really focus though, Midoriya should have been here by half past. He can't remember another instance where the boy was this late for their weekly lunch; in fact, Midoriya is usually early and practically giddy with glee to be spending time with his childhood hero. He neatly circles the score at the top of Yaoyorozu's test paper. Full marks, as usual; it's impressive, but he wouldn't expect any less from the class vice-president. He glances up again. 13:47. Where is the boy?

The two of them had established this tradition after the lead-up to the sports festival, when All Might had asked Izuku to join him for lunch; the next week, he was returning from morning classes and found the fanboy hovering anxiously around his door. The boy had been startled; he'd clearly been working up the courage to knock, thinking All Might was inside. He squeaked something about needing help with an assignment, and it had clicked. The boy wanted to spend a bit of time with him. Of course, they had spent ten months seeing each other nearly every day. Toshinori had to admit that he was missing the boy's company as well. So when the pro hero had suggested that they make it a weekly arrangement, for study purposes of course and not at all just to enjoy each other's presence, the boy had leapt enthusiastically at the chance. All Might now looked forward to Mondays, when Midoriya would arrive at his office at 13:30 (or at least, that's what they had arranged, but Toshinori knew to expect the boy at least a few minutes early and made sure to always have some freshly boiled water ready for their tea). Usually, Izuku would beg All Might to regale him with a tale of his hero work, although he had yet to pick a story that the boy didn't already know. Sometimes, Toshinori would give Izuku pop quizzes, or they would go through his homework together, often both finding themselves scratching their heads. But occasionally, they would just sit together in companionable silence; Toshinori reading his newspaper, and Izuku working on his notes or scrolling on his phone, every so often piping up about a heroic fight on the news, or to ask Toshinori for more tea. He doesn't need Izuku's confirmation that their shared hour is the highlight of the week, for both of them.

Which makes his unexplained absence all the more puzzling. Toshinori pulls out his phone, but there's no missed messages blinking back at him. Something feels wrong. Finally, giving into his steadily increasing worry, he exhales and pushes the exams aside, rising to his feet to start his search across the school. An audible 'poof' accompanies his transition into his muscular form; a couple of the papers flutter to the floor, unnoticed. Toshinori hopes it doesn't take too long to figure out Izuku's whereabouts, since he's on limited time, and he still has a couple of afternoon classes; he's expecting a good explanation from the kid after all this trouble.

He doesn't have to go far before he gets his first clue.

"Young Uraraka and Iida!"

His loud bellow startles the pair; Uraraka practically jumps five feet into the air. Normally, he would find that internally amusing, but this time as he approached, he'd noticed something wasn't quite right. The duo had been talking quietly, intensely, their heads bowed together; Uraraka had her back turned to him, but he'd spotted the serious look on Iida's face, more so than usual. It only added to his rising dread.

"All Might, sir! Sorry, you scared me." Uraraka lets out a shaky breath, placing her hand on her chest.

"My apologies Uraraka. Have either of you seen young Midoriya?"

All Might doesn't miss the concerned look that flashes between the youngsters. "A-actually sir, we were hoping you would know where he is." All Might feels his heart dropping; Uraraka continues hesitantly. "We saw him before homeroom, but just before class started Mr. Aizawa asked to have a word with him and took him outside the classroom."

All Might tries to keep his face and his voice passive; from Uraraka's expression, he's not sure he is succeeding. "Did you hear what they talked about, or see what happened after that?"

The girl shakes her head. "No, he didn't come back to class, and Mr. Aizawa didn't say anything about it."

So, Aizawa knows what's going on. Fine. He tries to suppress the flicker of hurt that something has happened to his protégé and Aizawa knows about it before he does. That stings. But at least he knows where to go next. All Might gives the pair a small bow, and is about to make a beeline for the break room when Iida's voice interjects.

"If you see him, sir, please..." Iida's words are controlled, but his dark eyes are pleading. "Please tell him that, whatever has happened, we are here for him, and he can talk to us - anytime."

The significance of that statement isn't lost on All Might - knowing what Iida went through, and recalling how that ended (how could he forget seeing the news that day, getting that phone call, racing to the hospital, fearing the worst). "Of course." He turns to walk away, but as he does he pauses; there's something that needs to be said, something important, before he leaves. "Although I would never want any of my students to be so worried, the fact that you feel this way means that you are true friends. Please, continue to support and look out for each other."

Both students nod seriously. Uraraka's eyes are moist, but there's a glint of determination shining there too. Good, Toshinori thinks, as he bids his farewell with a bow. If something has happened to the kid, he might need them now more than ever.

Aizawa doesn't look surprised when All Might storms into the break room - in fact, he looks like he's been expecting him. He's sat on the couch, a steaming mug of coffee in held in his long, pale fingers. He looks even more tired than usual. "Look, I know what you're about to ask and I can't tell you," he deadpans, before the larger man can say a word.

All Might splutters into his hand. He got straight to the point. "Come on, Aizawa. You know what -" He clamps his lips shut before the sentence spills forth. You know what the kid means to me. Another hacking cough tears from his throat, this time he tastes the metallic tang of blood in his mouth. He takes a breath, starts again. "I'm his teacher too. If there's something going on that could affect his studies or attendance in class, I need to know about it." It's a painfully, almost laughably, obvious charade; the last thing All Might cares about right now is Izuku missing class time, but he has to keep up the 'teacher' act.

Aizawa doesn't budge. "It's not my place. You need to talk to Nezu." Cold tendrils of fear slowly wrap around All Might's chest. If Nezu is involved, that means it's bad. His expression must have changed, because Aizawa sighs reluctantly and softens his posture; bloodshot eyes pierce blue. "He's not in any danger All Might."

All Might supposes that's intended to be a reassurance, and in a way it is; Aizawa wouldn't lie about Midoriya's safety, so if he says the boy is safe then it must be so. But All Might can sense Aizawa's language been chosen carefully. Not 'the boy is OK'. Not 'everything is fine'. Shit.

"Nezu's in his office, he's probably waiting for you. And, All Might," The dark haired hero leans forward. There's an unfamiliar expression on his face, that All Might can't quite identify; in fact, he's almost afraid to, afraid of what it might mean. The clock hand ticks, then Aizawa leans back into the couch with a huff. "Try not to break the door down."

Nezu is at his desk when All Might enters, typing away on his laptop; his paws strike the keyboard at surprising speed. "Ahh, All Might, come in - what can I do for you?" the principal asks blithely, although it's not a real question; they both know the reason. As the latch clicks behind him, Toshinori shrinks down in a plume of smoke that quickly dissipates. He coughs into his palm, and wipes the sticky wetness from his chin. "I heard that young Midoriya was taken out of class - what's happened?" Is he OK?  That's the question he wants to ask, but he already knows the answer from speaking to Aizawa.

Nezu answers calmly. "Hisashi Midoriya was killed last night."

Midoriya - Toshinori freezes and pales with realization. "Izuku's father?"

"Yes. Izuku has been sent home to his mother."

SHIT. Toshinori feels his guts twist painfully. He's never really heard the kid speak about his father - Toshinori never pried, and surprisingly the boy never opened up. Toshinori had assumed he was dead or long out of the picture; after all, the boy was so eager to talk endlessly about everything else going on in his world. Toshinori licks his suddenly-dry lips, then croaks, "How did it happen?"

"It was a traffic accident - 4 people were killed, and 9 others injured."

It's not the answer he is expecting. For a hero in a world full of evil villains, it's disturbingly easy to forget that for most people, life continues as normal - and so does death. How quickly a human life can be snuffed out, during something as simple as the daily commute. All Might swallows his nausea. C'mon Toshi, this is no time to start spiralling. You need information. "I didn't hear anything about this."

"Oh, you wouldn't. This happened in Chicago, where Mr. Midoriya has been working for the past ten years."

Ten years - so Izuku was only five years old when his father left. Toshinori wonders what could have caused the man to leave his wife and young son behind. Things are starting to make sense, like puzzle pieces falling into place; Toshinori resists the urge to drop his head into his hands and pull at his hair. Why didn't I know this sooner?

Before Toshinori can say anything more, Nezu continues. "Of course, Izuku will not be returning to classes for the rest of the week. He has asked that we do not share the news with his classmates - they will be told that Izuku has a family matter to attend to, and will be returning to class on Monday."

Toshinori raises an eyebrow in disbelief. That won't be enough - the kid has friends who care about him, and will be wanting to know what's happening. Of course, he knows better than to disagree with Nezu, so he bites his tongue and simply inclines his head, his thoughts already turning to Midoriya. The realization hits him that, even after all those months of training at the beach, he never got the boy's address. He feels a small wave of shame roll through him. Just another thing I don't know about the kid. No matter, there must be a way to look it up in the school system.

"All Might, I expect you to continue with your teaching activities as usual this afternoon," Nezu interrupts this train of thought. His voice is light as always, but his gaze is steely as he locks eyes with the pro hero. "You are a teacher here above all else - and I should remind you that, despite your relationship with the boy, you are not his family. He is your student, as are the others, and I expect you to honor your obligations to them as their teacher." Toshinori casts his eyes to the floor. Nezu continues, softer now. "I assure you that the boy is safe; however, this isn't something that All Might can fix."

Toshinori's shoulders slump and he sighs heavily. "Yes, Nezu, you're right." The rodent isn't always, not about everything, but his students do need him, and it's true the kid isn't family. And even the #1 pro hero can't turn back time to bring Hisashi Midoriya back to life. No, the best Toshinori can do right now is allow the Midoriyas some time and space to grieve, and focus on his own responsibilities. And then the conversation is over, and Toshinori leaves feeling a growing pit in the stomach he no longer possesses.

By Thursday, Toshinori is a mess. He's even more emaciated than usual, and his undereyes are so dark it looks like he's been on the receiving end of a fist to the face, or several. He sure feels like it, too. Despite throwing himself into work as a distraction, it has been a really tough few days; he hasn't been sleeping too well, or eating much - his appetite seems to have disappeared, along with Midoriya. Although the boy's absence is to be expected, considering the circumstances, Toshinori can't help but feel slightly crushed each morning when he peeks in at Class 1-A to see Izuku's desk empty.

He's halfway through tomorrow's lesson plan when there's a quiet, unexpected knock at the door; Toshinori transfigures hastily. "Come in!" he booms, trying and failing to quash the hope that Izuku will be the one entering.

Then he sees his visitors, and his spirit drops, for more reasons than one. It is Uraraka and Iida, looking equally ghastly. Uraraka's eyes are puffy, and, despite the young man's typical smart appearance, Iida looks absolutely wrecked. All Might feels a sharp pang of pity - he understands what they are feeling all too well.

Uraraka begins hesitantly. "Sorry to disturb you sir, but we were wondering if you'd heard from Izuku since Monday."

Toshinori blinks and frowns. He doesn't need to check his phone, he's been checking incessantly for days in the hope of a message, but there's been nothing. He has lost count of the times he's typed out a message just to hit delete in frustration at his own powerlessness. Of course, he does want to be there for Midoriya, but anything he types just feels so... contrived. And this morning, whilst his fingers hovered over the keys deliberating over his message for the hundredth time, he had found himself unwillingly cast back to when Nana died. He remembered how his anger and his grief felt like it would burn his body from the inside out; remembered how it felt to wake up in the morning and just scream himself hoarse at the agony of waking up again to a world without her. And he remembers hating, with every fibre of his being, the empty condolences offered to him; hated the pitying eyes and the hollow words, when all he wanted the world to do was leave him alone. And so, the text to Midoriya had gone unsent, and Toshinori has spent the morning since feeling on edge and anxious. Uraraka looks like she will burst into tears at any moment, which only serves to heighten his alarm, though he takes care not to let it show.

"I'm sorry young Uraraka, but I have not - is something the matter?"

Iida interjects. "Sir, we need to know what's going on. They told us something has happened, and he needed to go home to his family, but he's not been answering any of our calls or texts. Something seems wrong - this isn't like him at all!"

Toshinori sighs internally. No, it's not like the kid at all. Nezu and Aizawa have both confirmed that Izuku is safe and not in any danger, and All Might trusts them to be truthful. But safe doesn't mean OK, and it's clear that Izuku is not OK.

"I'm sorry. I cannot tell you what has happened, but please be assured young Midoriya is safe." He wants to say nothing is wrong, but he does not. They would see right through it, and All Might won't be the one to lie to them. His assertion does nothing to soften the worry etched on the young faces before him; if anything, Iida's jaw tightens and Uraraka looks even more stricken. He needs to say something, anything, to ease their worry, so he continues tenderly, truthfully. 'He is very lucky to have friends who care for him so greatly.' In fact, it seems all of Class 1-A have become much closer - even Bakugo has been a bit distracted recently, not as snappy as usual. All Might senses that even he is worried about his 'rival'. "I know you want to help, but it may take some time before he's ready to talk. All you can do is to be ready for when that time comes; for now, you've done enough."

This time, All Might is relieved when his affirmations have the intended effect; some of the tension ebbs from the air, and he's rewarded with a small bashful, smile from the brunette girl. It stirs the first positive emotion he's felt all week, and he reciprocates with a warm smile of his own. "Thank you, sir." The pair turn to leave, but at the doorway Uraraka hesitates. "By the way, he's lucky to have you too, All Might."

Toshinori's breath hitches in his chest, and he swallows harshly, fighting the sudden rise of blood in his throat. He blinks once, twice, and when his eyes open again the pair have disappeared, their footsteps fading down the corridor.

All Might sighs and raises a hand to his face, suddenly exhausted. This feels like the longest week of his life; he feels tired down to his bones. He hasn't eaten yet today either, further adding to his fatigue. He runs his fingers along his jawline, and notices they are shaking. Normally he would have more time, but it seems his current state has reduced his energy drastically. However, just as Toshinori is about to transmute and give his worn out body a break, the door bursts open again to reveal a pouting Bakugo. All Might grimaces as the door slams into the wall and makes a mental note to check for damage later, but Bakugo doesn't flinch. He takes two strides into the room, slamming the door closed behind him (again, All Might swears he hears the sound of splintering wood), then pushes his hands deep into his pockets and fixes his teacher with a sullen glare. All Might sighs again, internally this time so as not to set the explosive youngster off. He's seen this look many times before, and he knows Bakugo is a hair's breadth away from losing his temper completely. He's ready to fight about something. Not what I need right now. "Young Bakugo! What can I do for-"

"You know about Deku's dad?"

All Might feels a jolt of electricity between them as the boy stares him down; his lips are pursed and his eyes are narrowed.

So, Bakugo knows what has happened. All Might can't imagine that Izuku has told Bakugo about his father's death, so the kid has found out some other way. He needs to shut it down now - he can't have Izuku's family tragedy used as school gossip. He chooses his words deliberately. "As you know, Midoriya has been called away for a family emergency. I'm afraid I cannot reveal his personal circumstances, although I understand you are concerned -"

"Don't bother giving me that spiel!" the blonde boy interrupts angrily. "I already know everything. My mom, she's best friends with his mom. So, I know his dad's dead." He crosses his arms, but despite the defensive stance some of his anger seems to melt away as he meets All Might's concerned gaze. He relents, slightly. "Don't worry, I haven't told anyone. It's just that, my mom gave me this card," he pulls his hand from the recesses of his pocket, brandishing a small envelope, "to give to Deku, for his mom, but since he's not been here -" He holds the envelope out, expectantly. "You're going to see him, right?"

All Might furrows his brow; he has been trying hard to keep his distance from Midoriya, to give the boy some time and privacy, but he can't deny that resolve is wavering; now he's been tasked with delivering this card, and it would be very rude not to pass it along. Maybe he would stop by on his way home and drop the card off then, and he would also be able to surreptitiously check on the mother and son. Of course, he won't overstep his boundaries, or stay too long, he won't even go inside, he'll just linger long enough make sure the two are OK. He thinks of bright green eyes and a beaming smile. God, he hopes the kid is OK.

As if sensing All Might's faltering resolution, Bakugo pushes the envelope into his teacher's huge hand. "Just tell them it's from my mom, don't mention me, got that?!"

Typical Bakugo; it hasn't escaped All Might's notice how the normally sharp-tempered student has been ever-so-slightly subdued this week. Perhaps not noticeable to his classmates, but All Might knows that Izuku's absence has affected him more than he would ever admit.

All Might puts the letter safely in his own pocket. "Do not fear young Bakugo, my lips are sealed."

Bakugo relaxes slightly and nods, releasing a breath he probably didn't realise he was holding. He spins on his heel and stalks towards the door. All Might knows better than to expect a thank you, but as the boy's hand settles on the doorknob the hero is surprised to hear him speak again.

"Deku's dad... he was alright." All Might, despite jolting at the words, says nothing; he watches Bakugo patiently, sensing that there's more to be said. Bakugo's hand still rests on the doorknob, but he makes no attempt to leave. After a short silence, he continues in a quiet, clipped voice. "We were just little kids when his dad left, but I remember he used to take us to school. I remember one time he bought me an ice cream, but he made me promise not to tell my mom. And he," Bakugo's fingers clench the doorknob tightly, but he doesn't pull. "He loved Aunt Inko, and Deku."

All Might feels all the air leave his remaining lung in one big rush. The question slips from his tongue, before he can stop it. "Why did he leave?"

Bakugo doesn't answer immediately. "My mom said it's because they needed money."

All Might closes his eyes in anguish. He wasn't oblivious to the fact that Midoriya came from a poor household; although not impoverished, the boy never had much money for food or clothes. All Might had taken to buying him lunch whilst they worked together on the beach, although it had taken some time for Izuku to accept the offers. When his clothes got ripped (as they sometimes did whilst Izuku raked through the trash), they reappeared a few days later neatly stitched up; it hadn't taken a genius to realise that Inko couldn't afford to replace them. It was another thing they never talked about.

Bakugo continues. "Uncle Hisashi lost his job here, but he was offered the chance to work in America. I dunno what he was doing there, but it made money. He sent almost all of it home to Aunt Inko." All Might daren't open his eyes; if he does, he knows they will give him away. He needs to play the role of teacher, can't let his feelings overcome him as his heart squeezes painfully in his chest at the revelation. Bakugo's head drops slightly as he delivers the final blow. "Mom told me that his dad called every once in a while, but after a few years Deku stopped talking to him. I remember one day, he told the other kids at school that he didn't have a dad. I know it hurt Aunt Inko, but I don't think Deku ever got over him leaving. In the end, he stopped talking about him altogether; I think he just wanted to forget he ever existed." A pause. "He thought his dad had forgotten him, too."

Midoriya... oh god.

With that, Bakugo flings the door wide open and is gone without a goodbye.

Toshinori releases a shaky breath and tries to collect himself, blinking away the wetness in his eyes and cursing under his breath. Shit. Hold it together Toshi, you're still in school. You can't lose it here. After a moment he pulls his phone out from his pocket, seeing the now-familiar blank screen. Determination hardens within him - glancing at the clock, he sees the school day is now coming to an end. He's going to visit the kid.

Two hours later, All Might finds himself standing in front of the door to the Midoriya's apartment. His heart is beating hard, like he's just finished a marathon. He's faced some of the world's strongest villains, survived countless natural disasters, but this... this is scary. He holds his finger up to the buzzer but hesitates, fingers trembling slightly. What if it's like it was, after Nana... Toshinori shakes his head to dispel the thought. No time to let my past get in the way, I need to do this. Steeling his nerves, he presses the buzzer.

Inko answers; although they have never met, Toshinori has heard many stories about Izuku's mother. She looks exactly how he expected - she's shorter than her son, with a soft figure and a round, sweet face. Her eyes are swollen and slightly red, but as they widen at the sight before her, he can't help but notice that her irises are a vivid green shade - just like Izuku's. All Might bows, brandishing the small bouquet he'd bought on the way over. "Ms. Midoriya, please allow me to introduce myself. I am -"

"All Might," she finishes, looking awed. All Might is reminded of the first time he met Izuku - the boy had a similar expression of wonder on his face then. He proffers the flowers to the small woman. "I am sorry... for your loss." Those words snap Inko from her daze - All Might senses the moment she crashes back into realization, as though he can hear her heart drop within her chest. Her hand reaches out, her fingers brushing his own as they curl around the wrapping. "And, I've been asked to deliver this." He hands over the envelope Bakugo had entrusted him with, and Inko takes it from him gently. "From Mrs. Bakugo."

"Thank you, All Might. Please," Inko steps aside with a bow, "come in." Before he can object, he is ushered inside and into the hallway with a smile. All Might recognizes that for what it is, a hollow facsimile of the real thing; after all, he's spent years hiding behind his own fake smile. He feels a pang in his chest, and a sudden overwhelming urge to back away, to throw himself out of the door before it's closed - it's too much, he's intruding, he shouldn't be here-

"All Might?" comes a quiet voice from the stairs. All Might looks up sharply, relief and worry rippling through him at the sound. Izuku is stood there, staring wide-eyed down at his hero. There's no other word for it, the boy looks rough. He is wearing a set of faded All Might themed pyjamas, which seem to be falling off his frame; his hair, usually unruly, is matted in some places and flattened in others, as though he's just gotten out of bed. But it's his face, pale and drawn in the soft light, that makes All Might's chest tighten; the boy looks sickly and so much older than All Might has ever seen him.

Izuku stands there for a moment, confusion hanging heavy in the air, before Inko speaks. "Izuku, All Might came to pay his respects."

Then the boy smiles; the reverie is broken. He clatters down the stairs to approach his mentor. "All Might! Thank you for coming." He gives a quick bow.

All Might knows he needs to play along. After years of superhero work, he's perfected his acting skills; he hastily smothers his unease, and forces his features into a jovial expression. "Young Midoriya! You don't need to thank me. It is good to see you." It is not a lie, but it is not the truth. Toshinori wishes he didn't have to see the boy this way. "Your classmates have been missing you; in fact, we all have!" This is not a lie in the slightest.

Izuku's smile wobbles. The kid doesn't have the years of practice he does. "Thanks, All Might. I'm sorry I've missed so much at school, I -" Izuku falters, but only for a millisecond. "- I'm hoping to be back in classes tomorrow."

All Might feels a rush of concern, and lays a hand on his disciple's shoulder. "You don't need to rush back to class Midoriya, please take your time." He squeezes tenderly, hoping it's enough to convey his sympathy. "I am so sorry about your father."

Somehow it's the wrong answer. The atmosphere shifts as Izuku freezes for a moment, then all of a sudden he has pulled away out of All Might's grasp and is flying back up the stairs. "I'm sorry, I - I should get changed!"

All Might can only listen as heavy footsteps thud across the landing, and then there's the sound of a screen door flying shut. Well, that didn't go as well as hoped, but it could have gone much worse, I suppose. After all, he's not inconsolable. Toshinori tries to view that as a positive, but he can't ignore the alarm bells that are ringing in his mind. Izuku is not shy with his emotions, Toshinori has seen him cry more times than he can count by this point; he had predicted the waterworks, but it seems Izuku is coping better than he expected. He fights the niggling thought that quickly pushes its way to the front of his mind. Or maybe he's not coping at all.

He hears running water; Inko is in the kitchen filling a vase, leaving him alone in the living room. He shifts his weight between his feet, suddenly aware of his surroundings and feeling incredibly awkward. Truthfully, he is uncomfortable in this house, with his face all over the walls and the atmosphere thick with unspoken grief. It's itching at his skin and making him palms sweat. But All Might is a pro hero, and he's been doing this job for a long time; he pushes through the discomfort with a grin, just as he always does. Just like he's taught the boy to do.

"Would you like some tea, All Might?" comes the soft question from Inko. She steps back into the room, and All Might's attention is immediately drawn to the bright blue vase, streaked with red and white in clumsy streaks. He doesn't need to glance at what he's wearing to recognise that design. Inko notices his expression, and her eyes crinkle with genuine warmth. "Izuku made this for me years ago, when he'd just started elementary school. It was for an art project, where they had to paint a vase like their favourite hero. You know, he was your biggest fan." Inko looks straight into All Might's eyes. "He still is."

For a moment, held in the mother's gaze, he is lost for words. He feels almost embarrassed, heat rising in his cheeks; he knows he's been the focus of the boy's adoration for years, knows that he's been placed on a pedestal so high he's untouchable in the boy's mind. He's just waiting for the day the kid opens his eyes and sees through it, waiting for the day it all comes crumbling down. A small shuffle in front of him causes Toshinori to blink; Inko is waiting expectantly. It takes another couple of seconds for him to realise what she is waiting for. "Oh, of course! Tea would be lovely, thank you." Inko nods, and makes her way towards the kitchen.

As he waits for his tea, All Might tries to avoid looking at the numerous posters of himself, still feeling weirded out. His eyes land instead on a small picture, sitting on the coffee table in a plain wooden frame. There are three figures in the photograph. One All Might recognizes as younger Inko Midoriya; her face is turned slightly away from the camera, her hand covering her mouth, but it's clear she's laughing; her cheeks are flushed softly pink. She looks happy. In her arms she is holding an infant wrapped in a blanket; the child's hair is shockingly green against the soft white fabric. Something Toshinori can't identify swells in his chest. Izuku. And the third figure is a tall, muscular man; one arm is wrapped around Inko's waist, pulling her close. His face is relaxed, carefree; green eyes sparkle at the camera, like two stars shining from a sea of freckles. Thick, tousled green hair glints in the sunlight which illuminates the trio, casting them in a hazy, ethereal glow. Hisashi Midoriya, Izuku's father. It's weird, like looking at a photo of the boy all grown up. "Izuku looks just like his father."

He doesn't realise he's talking aloud until he hears the air rush out of Inko's lungs, followed by the sharp crash of breaking china. You idiot Toshi, why did you say that? 

"Ms. Midoriya!" All Might enters the kitchen in three large strides; he sees Inko huddled on the kitchen tiles, the cup which once held tea smashed into pieces beside her. A small, steaming puddle of liquid is spreading quickly. "Ms. Midoriya, allow me to help you."

"I'm fine!" Inko interrupts, cutting him off - her head is still bowed towards the floor. All Might crouches forward, tries to place a hand on her shoulder, but as he approaches she flinches, and he quickly withdraws, backing off enough to give her some space. She takes a deep, shuddering breath, and it's obvious she is holding back tears. When she speaks, her voice is low and trembling. 'I'm sorry All Might - I'm so clumsy. Let me get this cleaned up.' Before All Might can object, Inko has reached out for one of the shards - as her fingers brush against the jagged edge, she cries out in pain and yanks her hand back to her chest. A drop of blood hits the tiled floor.

"Ms. Midoriya!"

"Mom!"

All Might looks up from his hunched position. Izuku stands in the kitchen doorway, eyes widening at the scene before him. He's changed into a clean t-shirt and cargo pants, and he's clearly tried to brush his messy hair into something more dignified. He rushes to his mother's side, instinctively pushing All Might back and out of the way; All Might lets him.

"Izuku, I'm OK."

"Mom, you're bleeding!"

"It's just a small cut. I'm OK, really."

Izuku helps his mother carefully to her feet and immediately towards the nearest chair, then quickly grabs the kitchen towel and presses it into her hand. The fabric turns red instantly, but when Izuku pulls it away and inspects the injury he sags with relief. It's just a shallow cut. "I'll get you a bandage."

Toshinori has moved into the living room as well, whilst trying not to get in the way and hating how obtrusive he feels; he's long learnt that it's simply impossible to shrink into the background at 7ft3, so the best he can do is stay back. He watches quietly as Izuku crosses the kitchen and grabs the first aid box before returning to his mother's side and starting to bandage her wound. He simultaneously feels too big and too small where he stands, watching Izuku's gentle administrations. He wants to apologize; it was his fault, he shouldn't have said anything. He shouldn't have come at all. STUPID, PATHETIC-

"Izuku, why don't you take All Might to Takoba beach?"

"Huh?" student and teacher exclaim simultaneously. Inko pulls her now-bandaged hand back into her lap, and shrugs her shoulders without looking up.

"I'm sure All Might would like to see the beach now that it's all cleaned up. Besides, I need to sweep the kitchen so no-one else gets hurt, and finish making dinner. And you need some fresh air Izuku - you haven't left the apartment in days."

Izuku's brow furrows in concern. "But mom-"

"Izuku," Inko whispers, and neither of them miss the way her voice cracks. She hasn't looked up since her collapse, keeping her face downturned. She can't look up, or she'll splinter into fragments just like the mug. She doesn't want to fall apart in front of them. "Please." All Might hears the pain in her voice, and understands what she won't say. Please let me grieve in private.

Her son stands stiffly, his back turned towards his mentor. All Might can't tell what the kid is feeling. It's a strange, uncomfortable realization and it just feels wrong; for so long now, he's been able to sense what the boy is thinking just with once glance. They've had deep, meaningful conversations without exchanging a single word. But right now, Izuku is a closed book. He's just about decided that he needs to make his excuses and leave when Izuku finally speaks, the word barely louder than a breath. "OK." Then, sharper - "Let's go, All Might."

They've been walking for at least half an hour now, but Izuku hasn't offered up a word. Toshinori has never seen this side of the kid; it makes him feel... strange, like he's been cast adrift. He shouldn't have mentioned Hisashi to his clearly devastated widow, but he hadn't been able to stop himself; Izuku is angry, and Toshinori can't really blame him. I really messed that up, huh.

The afternoon breeze is light but chilly, and Toshinori is thankful for the coat Izuku had grabbed on their way out, in more ways than one. He must have looked confused when the kid handed it over in the hallway, until Midoriya had muttered "You'll need to cover up," in a low voice Inko wouldn't be able to overhear. Toshinori had understood immediately; he wouldn't be able maintain his muscular appearance for much longer after a full day of teaching, but he'd made the mistake of wearing his costume for the home visit. He was touched by the boy's consideration. Despite everything he's going through, he's still thinking of others. Once they had made it some way from the house (far enough that Inko wouldn't be able to spot them from the window), Toshinori had stepped into a quiet alley and allowed himself to deflate with a groan of relief. He was really pushing it today. He pulled on the coat; it was long and heavy, made of slightly-itchy wool, and surprisingly it covered him well enough. Toshinori had frowned, puzzled. How did the kid's coat fit him so well, this should be way too short - AH. Toshinori felt another stab of guilt. Not Izuku's coat. He thought of the tall man in the photograph, the man who would never come home to his family, and wondered if it was really OK to be wearing this. But when he'd stepped back out towards Izuku, clad in his father's coat, there was no reaction from the boy; Izuku had simply moved on, leaving Toshinori to trail behind.

As they continue their silent march across the sand, suddenly Izuku stops. They stand there together - Izuku staring out at the sea, and Toshinori staring at his young disciple, studying his inscrutable expression.

"Do you remember this place?"

Of course he does. He will never forget the sight of Izuku screaming against the sunrise, sweat running in rivulets down his body. It is seared into his memory. "Yes."

"I worked so hard to get here, All Might. Sometimes, I thought I would give up. And sometimes, I thought you would give up on me. But here we are."

Izuku's face betrays nothing as he stares out at the blue water. Toshinori feels emotion rising, bubbling up inside him. He wants to reach out and grab his pupil by the shoulders, to pull him close. He takes a hesitant step forwards. "Young Midoriya, I am so sor -"

"Don't say you're sorry!"

The words tear raggedly from Izuku's lips, as the boy whips around. The eyes that Toshinori expected to see brimming with tears are burning - Toshinori can see his anger, his frustration. For an instant, he sees a flash of Bakugo in the usually calm boy. It's a side of Izuku he's never seen up close; it's shocking, and intimidating, and so not Izuku that the words die on his tongue. Izuku brings a hand to his head and breaks his gaze, but when he speaks the words are just as sharp. "I don't want to hear you're sorry. I don't want to hear it from anyone. The truth is, I didn't know my dad. He left a long time ago, and he never came back. It's just been me and my mom, as long as I can remember. And that - that's OK. We were just fine without him."

All Might is watching his pupil's carefully constructed walls crumble as he speaks. Oh, Midoriya... He sees the photo in his mind, of Hizashi and Inko holding each other and their baby. He thinks of what Bakugo had revealed to him in his office. His heart is breaking for this family, torn apart by circumstance and tragedy.

Izuku isn't stopping - now the dam has broken, it's all cascading out. "He was gone pretty much my whole life. So why should it matter that he's gone for good now?" Izuku almost breaks off there, and Toshinori sees the tears beginning to well up in his eyes. "I became a hero without him. I didn't need his help. Even mom didn't think I would make it this far." His breath hitches. "And then - and then you came along, and you gave me your gift. You helped me grow stronger. You believed in me."

Toshinori recalls the posters on the walls of Izuku's apartment, the painted vase. You filled that void with me, Toshinori finally understands; the epiphany shakes him right to the core. You needed a dad, so you clung onto your favourite hero for comfort. And then we met, and... Toshinori is winded by the realization that all this time, he's been able to give the boy what he's always needed, what he couldn't get from his own father. Assurance. Patience. And something else that Toshinori can't acknowledge for fear that he'll start to crumble too.

The world is spinning as Toshinori edges closer, shuffling forward in the sand without thinking. Izuku's shoulders are shaking. "That's all I ever needed. But he couldn't give it to me. When I was a kid, I couldn't understand why he left me and mom. Why he wouldn't come back to us. But it didn't take me long to realise that he just didn't care about us."

The breeze ruffles through Toshinori's hair. He's moving unconsciously, reaching one hand out slowly. No kid, that's not true, but the words won't come. He's so close now, close enough that his outstretched fingers graze Izuku's sleeve. "Maybe if I'd been born with a quirk, he would have stayed. Maybe if I'd had a quirk, he would have loved m-"

Toshinori is already there when Izuku crashes to the ground with a guttural, heart-wrenching cry, bracing the boy as they crumple together. His knees hit the sand hard, and he pulls Izuku close to his chest, wrapping his long arms around the boy's small frame. "It's OK, I've got you."

Izuku wails into his mentor's chest, his body wracked with sobs. Toshinori clutches him, feeling the boy shudder against him, knowing his tight grip is not enough to keep the kid from falling to pieces in his arms. The sky above them darkens, rainclouds looming over their heads. Izuku cries. "Why, All Might? Why? Why didn't he want me!"

Toshinori grips the back of Izuku's head, entwining his long fingers in his hair and tucking Izuku's head underneath his chin. His own face is wet, he can feel the tears running down his cheeks and dripping from his chin. "Midoriya, listen to me -" his voice breaks, "listen to me. It may not seem like it but your dad - he loved you, kid."

"You don't know that!" Izuku shouts brokenly, curling against his chest.

"I know he left you," Toshinori murmurs. "I'm sure was hard for him too. He wanted a better life for you, and your mom. I know it's not fair," Toshinori brushes his hand through the soft hair, "and I know he hurt you. And I can't pretend to know the whole story, but kid - I know he loved you. And he would be so, so proud of the man you have become. And I," he places his hands on Midoriya's shoulders and gently pushes the boy back to look into those impossibly green eyes. "I know that, because I am. I'm proud of you every single day." Izuku takes a strangled breath, and his fingers dig almost painfully into Toshinori's arms. Toshi doesn't care. "I am so glad I met you, Midoriya. I can't think of anyone more deserving of One for All. You are incredibly brave, smart and kind, and you work harder than anyone I have ever met. You are a true hero. And, I never had kids of my own, but if you were my son - I would be so honoured to call myself your father."

With those words, Izuku squeezes his eyes shut and folds in on himself, weeping; Toshinori recollects that afternoon in the alleyway, golden sun shining down on the boy as he had cried then, after hearing the words he'd needed for so long. Now, today, he needed these words too. Perhaps they both did.

They stay there, huddled together on the sand, for a while. Izuku's sobs gradually quieten, and he starts to sag heavily against Toshi. The hero has managed to regain his sense of composure now; he quickly swipes at his face with the jacket sleeve, then looks down at the head of green curls. "Midoriya?"

Izuku's face lifts at the sound of Toshinori's voice; he looks dazed and exhausted. It's a feeling they both share. "All M'ght."

It's definitely been longer than Toshinori realised since they left the Midoriya apartment. The light is fading, and it could rain at any moment. Izuku is wiped out, and Toshinori needs to get him home now. Still, he feels a small pang when he pulls back, putting space between their bodies. "Izuku, we need to get back to your mother. Do you think you can stand?"

Izuku nods slowly. "Yeah, think so."

"OK, good." Toshinori rises, ignoring his creaking knees as he does, then holds out his hand. Izuku takes it without hesitation, and Toshinori pulls him up onto his feet; almost instantly, Izuku teeters dangerously, and Toshinori quickly grabs onto his arms to hold him steady. "Woah, hey - easy now, take it slow."

Izuku blinks. "Sorry, I just felt a bit dizzy..."

Toshinori frowns, then lifts his palm to the boy's forehead. Izuku's skin is clammy but cool, and Toshinori lets out a small sigh of relief. No fever - the last thing the kid needs is to get sick. "You're probably exhausted. Let's get you back, and you can get into bed."

Together they make their way back across the beach and towards the apartment. Izuku doesn't say a word, and Toshinori doesn't push; it's been a long and emotional night, and they are both bone-weary. However, as they approach their destination, Toshinori suddenly remembers one thing he meant to address. He clears his throat lightly. "Midoriya. I forgot to mention - your friends, young Uraraka and Iida. They were worried about you."

Izuku jerks. "You told them?!"

"No, I can assure you that they don't know about your father. No-one in your class does - with the exception of Bakugo."

Izuku slumps. "Yeah, I thought he'd find out eventually. But the others... I don't want them to know."

Toshinori watches his face closely. "Why? I thought you were good friends."

Izuku clams up abruptly, swallowing hard. "It doesn't matter."

"Midoriya," Toshinori chides gently. "Talk to me." It surprises him that, even after everything they've shared in the last few hours, Izuku still feels like he needs to hold back from his mentor. Toshinori can't help but feel guilty; how much is this kid keeping bottled up inside?

Midoriya wrestles with himself briefly, but then concedes with a long exhale. "I don't want them to worry about me. And I don't want them to pity me."

"Midoriya, they are your friends. They won't pity you - they want to be there for you, to support you. That's what friends do." Izuku's breaths are shaky and shallow; he's clearly trying not to burst into tears again. Toshinori knows the boy wasn't popular at school, was teased and bullied even; he's not used to friendship, and allowing himself to open up to others, even Toshinori himself after all these months. But, perhaps tonight, they have made some progress. He continues. "Besides, not answering your calls or texts for three days is bound to cause them even more worry than if they knew the truth."

"Three days?!" Midoriya exclaims. Then, quieter - "I'm sorry. I didn't know it had been that long."

Yes, Toshinori knows how that feels; to be so deep in your grief that you lose track of the minutes, hours, days. "It's alright Midoriya, you don't need to apologise to me. But, I do think you should tell your friends what has happened. Maybe after a good night's sleep." A snippet of an earlier conversation flashes through Toshinori's mind; he prepares for the push-back. "And don't even think about returning to school tomorrow. It's Friday anyway, so you might as well spend tomorrow resting up and return on Monday for the start of a new week. Your classmates aren't expecting you until then."

"Okay."

Oh. Toshinori quickly bites down on his brewing retort; he had expected the kid to object, not agree so easily. But then again, the kid looks absolutely wrecked, like one gust of wind would knock him right back down. Maybe he's developing a sense of self-preservation, finally. "Glad that's settled." Toshinori glances up the street, towards the apartment building. "Can you make it the rest of the way? I can't turn up looking like this," he gestures at his skinny body, "but I'm running on empty - I don't have enough energy to transform now."

"I'll be fine All Might, - it's not far."

"OK then." Toshinori starts to shrug off the coat, but then he feels Izuku's hand on his forearm.

"All Might, please keep it. You need to walk home after all, and you don't want to be seen in your costume. Plus, it's getting cold."

Izuku's not wrong. Now that the sun has set, the air temperature has dropped. In his skinny form, it's easy to pick up a chill. Toshinori flashes him a grateful smile. "Thank you Midoriya."

Then, all of a sudden, Izuku flings himself forward; Toshinori feels strong arms constrict his torso, and without missing a beat he circles the boy in his arms. "Thank you, All Might." After a few seconds, they break apart. Izuku's eyes are teary again, but he's smiling up at his mentor and All Might knows the kid is going be OK.

"All right." He fixes his student with a no-nonsense look. "I will see you on Monday. If I see you in school tomorrow, we are going to have words."

"Right."

"And kid... remember you don't have to go through this alone. If you need me, I'm right on the other end of the phone, anytime - day or night. You got that?" Izuku flushes, nods. Good. "Alright, get going."

Toshinori watches the kid make his way up the street. His body is thrumming with exhaustion, but he feels lighter than he has in months. On one hand, Izuku has a lot of trauma and grief to work through, and Toshinori knows more than most that one night of meaningful declarations and comfort isn't a quick fix; it's going to take some time, and a lot of healing. But as Toshinori watches the door open in the distance, casting light out onto the dim street, he thinks of Inko, of Uraraka and Iida and the rest of Class 1A, even young Bakugo... and of course, himself. Toshinori can't help but feel optimistic, knowing that Izuku has so many people who care about him. And, with time and encouragement, one day the boy will understand that too; in fact, Toshinori will make sure of it.