Chapter Text
Izuku Midoriya was not a normal boy.
Growing up, his parents quickly realised that he had an easily-visible mutation - a sure sign that he would someday have a quirk. Their child had been born with small nub-like protrusions upon his head, which slowly developed into deep blue horns as he grew up. He even had blue blood.
And yet, he had the extra toe joint that was often taken to be a sign of quirklessness.
As Izuku grew up, he would often hear his parents fighting about his horns, and even about his hair - a blue so dark it was almost black, similar to his mother’s green - until, one day, his father left and never came back.
His mother, Inko, told him that his dad was working overseas in America. But every time Izuku asked about him, about what had made him leave, Inko refused to give him an answer. Her smiles became more strained - never quite reaching her eyes - and she grew more and more distant from her son. Work began to take up more and more of her time, and she started drinking. He only saw her sober in the morning when she took him to preschool - by the time he came home she would often be passed out, with empty bottles littering the floor and the stench of alcohol hanging thick in the air.
The day after his sixth birthday, Inko took Izuku to the park. Izuku was entranced by the gorgeous sakura tree that sat in the middle of the grassy playground, and ran over to go play with the pink petals that had begun to drop from the blooming flowers.
He never noticed Inko walk away.
Himiko Toga was not a normal girl.
Her mother was an addict, and she never knew her father. When her mother realised that she had developed both small, red horns and sharp fangs, her fear that she would be known as the mother of a monster drove her to abandon her daughter on the street to die.
Himiko was taken in by a foster family at age two, who treated her poorly for her appearance - calling her a demon, a pink-haired oni, even before she learned what the word meant.
It didn’t help that she developed several odd, inexplicable habits growing up - not least of which was licking her foster siblings, which they guessed meant she was figuring out which of them would be the tastiest to eat.
Only one of her new family didn’t seem to hate her - a boy a month or so older than her with fluffy purple hair named Hitoshi. They called him a monster too, but they didn’t treat him as badly as they did her.
One day not long before her sixth birthday, her foster parents took her and her siblings to the park. She was immediately drawn to the huge sakura tree in the middle of the park, whose pink petals matched perfectly with her hair.
It was only when she was looking straight up at the beautiful petals that she noticed a small boy, shorter than herself, standing beside her in a similar trance. She felt an uncanny feeling of familiarity as her eyes took in his dark blue hair and cobalt-blue horns, and she was overcome with a powerful urge to lean in and lick him.
So she did.
The boy squeaked and fell forwards, tripping over a thick root and faceplanting in the fallen pink petals. She immediately snapped back into reality and helped roll him over onto his back.
She saw tears glistening in his eyes as he hugged one of his knees to his chest - and she saw blue blood leaking slowly from between his fingers. Had he scraped himself?
Tears of sympathy filled her own eyes, and she bent down to face him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She grabbed the hand clasped over his scrape. “Here, let me help. I heard somewhere that dogs do this to help fix scratches and stuff.” She gently moved the hand out of the way, and softly licked at the wound.
A strange yet oddly familiar and pleasant taste overcame her, and she looked up to meet his eyes, whose softness was starkly contrasted by a sharply raised eyebrow. “Yuck. Why did you lick me?” the boy exclaimed, even as she licked his knee again.
Himiko smiled with her sharp teeth. “Your blood tastes good...but yeah, licking people lets me figure out what they’re like. You taste sweet. Your blood does, too.” She licked at the wound again, feeling nothing short of euphoric at the intoxicating flavour.
The boy gently pushed her head away from his knee and stood up, shaking his head in confusion at her actions. “T-thanks, I guess? What’s your name? I’m Izuku - uh, Izuku Midoriya.”
Himiko tilted her head. “Huh. That’s a nice name. I’m Himiko Toga.”
Izuku’s eyes suddenly widened, and he grabbed Himiko’s face. “Toga? Are you okay? Your face…” he trailed off, as Himiko felt an unfamiliar feeling - like her face was moving, somehow.
She felt her long, straight hair shorten and grow heavier, no longer sitting lightly against the back of her neck. She started to panic, pushing Izuku away and grabbing her face as it rearranged itself. What is this feeling? Is this my quirk? What’s happening to me? She felt slow changes across the rest of her body, like her skeleton itself was shifting. It felt like it should be painful, but she instead felt an odd numbing sensation across her body.
She saw a look of dawning horror on Izuku’s face as her own finally stopped shifting uncomfortably, and she opened her mouth to speak. “What’s wrong?” Izuku’s voice asked.
Izuku lifted a shaky finger to gesture wildly between them. “Wh-what happened to your face? Why do you look like me?”
Himiko tilted her head. “What do y-” she started, cutting herself off as she heard Izuku’s voice emanate from her throat once again.
With tears brimming in his eyes and a fearful expression on his face, Izuku turned and fled, leaving Himiko on her own.
She sat down right there on a thick root, and started to cry. What happened to her to make that nice boy run away? Did he realise she was a...a monster?
She lost track of how long she spent there, curled up into a ball and weeping with her hands hiding her face. When she finally came to her senses, she saw that the sun had begun to set as the chill of the evening air hit her. It was getting late. Standing up and looking around, she couldn’t see any of her siblings. Where did they all go?
She made her way to the edge of the park, where she remembered her foster parents had parked their van.
As she approached the van, she heard Hitoshi’s voice, sounding ragged with fear. “You can’t just leave her! What if she gets hurt?” Himiko immediately realised what must have happened, and broke into a run. They were planning to leave her behind, just like her own mother had done so long ago.
“Hitoshi!” she called, and she saw her older brother lock eyes with her as their foster mother forced him into the van, a confused expression crossing his face.
“Who’s that?” their mother snapped at Hitoshi. “What did we say about making trouble for other kids?” With a voice like ice, she turned to Himiko. “Get lost, boy.”
Himiko froze, shock-still. What?
The door slammed, and Himiko threw herself forward as the engine coughed to life. She caught Hitoshi’s eyes for a second, but he averted his gaze as the van drove away.
Izuku ran and ran until it felt like his lungs would burst. Who was that girl? Why did she feel so familiar? Why did her face change to look like me?
He looked back, only to find that in his panic he had long left the park behind. Not only that, but it was getting dark. Where’s Mom? What should I do? Foggy memories of learning what to do if he ever got lost in the city floated around his head, and he decided to go look for a phone to call the police’s emergency number so they could help him find his mom..
After a few minutes of wandering around, seeing closed store after closed store as the streets became less and less familiar, he finally found an open 24/7 convenience store. His legs were aching with exhaustion and he was shivering from the cold as he walked towards it.
As he walked towards the store, his keen eyes let him spot a blur on a nearby rooftop in the corner of his vision, which quickly materialised into a long-haired man in dark clothes and yellow goggles who leapt down beside him. Izuku shrieked and ducked away, freezing up when the man held up his hands in a placating gesture.
“Don’t worry, kid. I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m a hero,” the man said, pulling out what certainly looked like a genuine hero license at a glance. Izuku grabbed it. Erasure Hero: Eraserhead, it read. Izuku had been taught what a real hero license looked like in preschool, so he checked that it had the holographic strip that made counterfeiting almost impossible.
“Okay,” Izuku whispered, handing the card back. “Mister Eraserhead, can you help me find my mom? Her name’s Inko Midoriya - oh, and I’m Izuku.”
Eraserhead crouched to Izuku’s height and raised his goggles, letting Izuku see the tired-but-kind dark eyes underneath. “Of course, kid. Where did you last see her?”
“Th-the park,” Izuku said, fresh tears pricking at his eyes. “We went to the park, and I met a girl who turned into me, and I got scared and ran away,” he sniffed.
“It’s okay,” Eraserhead consoled him. “It’s getting dark out, so I’m going to take you someplace safe, okay? I’ll call the police right now and ask them to find your mom, so she can come pick you up once they find her. Is that okay?”
Izuku tearfully nodded, and let Eraserhead scoop him up in his arms. “You can call me Aizawa,” the hero provided as he typed a message into his phone. “Just don’t tell anyone else, okay? It’s a secret.”
Izuku nodded into Aizawa’s shoulder as he played with the ends of the man’s long gray scarf. “Okay. I promise, mister Aizawa.”
“Good, good,” the hero muttered. “A car is on its way, okay? We’ll get you something hot to eat, and some blankets - you’re shivering.”
Izuku’s stomach rumbled, and he realised just how hungry he was. “O-okay,” he whispered, snuggling deeper into Aizawa’s arms. “Thank you, mister Aizawa.”
It only took a few minutes before a car pulled up, and Aizawa carried Izuku into the back seat, sitting down next to him and helping him strap in. The driver, a cheerful man with long blond hair, gave Izuku a warm smile. “Hey there, little listener,” he greeted, though Izuku was too tired to respond with anything more than a nod.
“I’m not sure how long he’s been outside,” Aizawa told the driver, who nodded.
“I grabbed some blankets before I left. Here,” he said, passing over a stack of blankets. “It may be summer, but the wind’s still chilly. Best wrap up, little listener.” With that, the driver turned the key and the car pulled off.
Aizawa helped Izuku to pull a blanket over himself, and Izuku was out like a light.
Izuku dreamt of pink hair and red horns as he slept. Who was that girl? Why does she feel so familiar?
When he awoke, he found himself in an unfamiliar, dark place. He felt his heartrate accelerate as his eyes rapidly adjusted to the darkness, glancing around rapidly to take in his surroundings. He was lying on a big, soft bed in some kind of bedroom. It was a bit bigger than his room at home, and lacked his room’s characteristic shelves of hero merchandise - instead having a dressing table. The distinctive smell of hair gel filled the air, and he wrinkled his nose at the odour.
Slowly pulling away the sheets he was wrapped in, Izuku carefully stood up as his memories of the previous night reminded him where he was. This must be mister Aizawa’s house, right? he mused, stepping toward the door and quietly pulling it open.
“SHOTA!” a yell nearly deafened him, causing him to squeal and slam the door back shut in surprise. “HOW DID YOU WANT YOUR EGGS AGAIN?”
“Ow,” came a gruff call in response. “Sunny, and put your hearing aids in, Zashi. You’re gonna wake the kid.”
“OH! Sorry,” the first voice responded, the volume dropping to a more normal level.
Izuku tentatively opened the door again, this time slipping through without being scared witless.
“Oh, hey there little listener,” the driver from last night greeted as he cracked an egg onto a sizzling pan. “Sorry, did I wake you up? I’ve had bad hearing ever since I was little, so sometimes I don’t know how loud I’m being.” He stood in a small kitchen that seemed to merge seamlessly into a living room - the house was largely open-plan.
“I-it’s fine,” Izuku stammered. “I was awake.” His eyes scanned the room, adjusting to the bright sunlight streaming in through a window, until they landed upon Aizawa’s head poking out of a bright yellow sleeping bag.
Izuku raced to the man’s side and poked at him until his eyes opened. “Mister Aizawa, it’s morning already. Why are you still sleeping?”
“Ugh,” the man responded eloquently, drawing a laugh from ‘Zashi’ in the kitchen. “Sorry, kid. I was up a while talking with the police last night. Guess I forgot to go to bed early enough,” he groaned. “There coffee?”
Izuku sniffed the air, detecting a slight coffee smell wafting from the kitchen area - the scent was familiar, as his mom used coffee to sober up sometimes. “Don’t think it’s done yet,” he replied, drawing a raised eyebrow from Aizawa.
“Huh. Thanks, kid, I don’t smell it.” Aizawa yawned and slowly unzipped the sleeping bag, rolling onto the floor before pulling himself to his feet and wandering into the kitchen to check on the coffee machine.
“Hey, little listener, I’ve got some toast ready if you’re hungry.” Izuku’s stomach growled in response, and Izuku realised that him falling asleep in the car probably meant he hadn’t eaten since lunchtime the previous day.
“Thanks, mister Zashi,” he responded, grabbing a pre-buttered slice and biting into it. It tasted heavenly.
Zashi raised an eyebrow. “Huh, how’d you figure out my nickname? Did Shota tell you last night or something?”
Izuku shook his head, chewing his mouthful of toast before answering. “Heard mister Aizawa talking to you earlier after you shouted.” He had another bite of toast before speaking again. “The toast is delicious, by the way,” he thanked politely.
Zashi gave a crooked smile. “No problem, little listener. Have as much as you like, you must be starving - but save some room for bacon and eggs, m'kay? It’ll be ready soon.”
Izuku’s mouth dropped open, and he almost started salivating. “It smells delicious,” he praised - and it really did. Izuku could practically taste it already, the smell was so strong. “Are you sure I can have some?”
“Of course,” Zashi exclaimed. “Heck, I’m mostly making it to make sure you have a proper meal - we don’t normally cook up anything fancy for breakfast except on weekends.”
Izuku suddenly felt a flash of guilt - why were these people doing so much, just for him? What had he done to deserve it? “You really didn’t have to,” he said quietly.
Zashi gave him an odd look. “Like I said, it’s no problem. It’s important to get a proper breakfast, little listener. What do you normally have for breakfast?”
Izuku shrugged and fiddled with his hands. “Just some bread. Mom doesn’t have time to cook.”
Zashi flashed Aizawa a look Izuku couldn't decipher. “I see. Well, dig in, little listener. Enjoy it.”
Izuku nodded enthusiastically. “I will!” He tore off another piece of toast with his teeth and chomped it down.
By the time Izuku was finished, he’d gone through two pieces of toast, two rashers of bacon, and two eggs. He was feeling stuffed. Halfway through the first piece of bacon, he’d had to take a break to wipe some tears from his eyes, which Aizawa - who was sitting at the table nursing a mug of coffee at this point - noticed.
“You alright, Midoriya?” Aizawa quietly asked as Izuku put his plate away.
Izuku nodded, fresh tears pricking at his eyes. “I just d-don’t know why you guys are b-being so nice to me,” he replied. “So many people j-just think I’m a m-monster.”
A long silence followed, until Aizawa spoke up with a gentle tone to his usually-gruff voice. “You’re not a monster, Mi-Izuku. You’re just a kid. Your quirk isn’t something to be ashamed of.”
“It’s not a quirk,” Izuku whisphered, almost to himself.
Aizawa leaned closer. “What’s that, kid?”
“I...don’t have a quirk,” Izuku repeated quietly. “M-My dad always said he wasn’t my actual dad, and Mom must have... had me? With s-someone with a mutant quirk.”
Aizawa nodded slowly. “It’s possible to inherit a mutant quirk, of course, but that would normally still have some amount of quirk factor...have you been tested?”
Izuku nodded shakily. “I have the extra toe joint and everything.”
Aizawa gave Zashi a serious glance before turning back to Izuku. “That test is quite old - it’s actually outdated by modern standards. I’ll be happy to take you for a quirk factor test if you like - though we’ll need to find your mother first, she’d need to agree.”
Izuku snapped to attention at the mention of Inko. “Did the police find Mom?”
Aizawa shrugged. “Don’t know yet. Tsukauchi - uh, Detective Tsukauchi, he’s with the police - asked me to bring you to the precinct when you were ready.”
“Yes!” Izuku exclaimed, leaping up from his chair. “Let’s go!”
“Hold your horses, little listener,” Zashi spoke up. “You might want to have a shower and a change of clothes first. Aizawa here bought some in your size last night.”
Izuku’s eyes began to tear up anew, and he launched himself at Aizawa to give him a tight hug.
“I told you you didn’t need to tell him that, Hizashi,” Aizawa sighed.
“Hizashi?” Izuku repeated.
Zashi - or Hizashi, rather - nodded. “Hizashi’s my given name. Shota here just calls me Zashi for short. I don’t mind, little listener. You can call me Zashi if you want to.”
Izuku nodded gratefully. “Thank you, mister Zashi.” He turned to Aizawa. “I guess I can shower.”
Aizawa nodded. “Alright. The bathroom’s through there -” he pointed at a closed door “-and you’ll find new clothes in the drawer under the basin inside.”
“Thank you, mister Aizawa!” Izuku beamed, darting over to the designated door and shutting it behind him. Once he’d checked that the clothes were where Aizawa had said they’d be, he quickly stripped and hopped into the shower.
He scrubbed and washed his hair - taking special care around his sensitive horns, which extended about half an inch from his head. He wasn’t exactly sure what caused them to grow and shrink - he’d noticed them getting larger some days, then smaller the next. Right now, they were the longest they’d ever been.
His ears picked up the sound of Hizashi’s voice from the other room. The voice was quiet, especially against the ambient sound of the water from the shower, but Izuku could still barely make it out.
“Well, if he won’t say over the phone, that can’t be good, ri-?” he heard, before a shhhh that could only come from Aizawa silenced the man. Izuku's face heated up briefly as he felt a flash of guilt for eavesdropping on them, and he quickly turned on more water to make sure he wouldn’t be able to accidentally listen in again.
He felt refreshed as he left the bathroom, wearing black shorts and a white t-shirt with “T-shirt” written on it. It was a bit big for him, but he didn’t mind.
Aizawa and Hizashi were waiting for him outside, Hizashi holding a plastic bag to put his old clothes into so he wouldn’t have to hold onto them. “We’ll be going to the precinct now,” Aizawa announced, a serious tone audible in his voice.
Izuku nodded earnestly, and the trio headed out of the apartment and towards the building's elevator.
Izuku hadn’t been conscious when they made the trip to Aizawa and Hizashi’s apartment, so the elevator walls’ swirls of bright colours were new to Izuku. He studied them intently - he wasn’t used to such a decorative style outside of his preschool’s classrooms.
They exited the elevator and emerged into an underground garage - probably parking for the residents, Izuku guessed. He hummed an old tune to himself as they made their way to the car, and Izuku smiled when Aizawa got in next to him in the back seat again.
As Hizashi pulled off, Aizawa watched Izuku closely. Something struck him as off about the boy - and it was nothing to do with his appearance, though Aizawa was pretty sure the boy’s senses were far above average from how he’d smelled the coffee earlier that morning.
No, it wasn’t that. Izuku seemed to expect very little of the world, and of people - he’d been surprised and grateful, even to the point of feeling guilty, that Hizashi had cooked him a full breakfast. He’d even expected that the two of them would think of him as a monster.
Aizawa clamped down on his brain’s catastrophizing about his potential home life - he’d do some sort of inquiry, for sure, but it was illogical to jump to the conclusion that the kid’s mother was neglectful or abusive just because of that. Aizawa knew full well how cruel kids could be to each other, even at such a young age. He resolved to also do some digging into the Izuku’s school environment when he got the chance.
He’d been the victim of a fair share of bullying himself as a child - an awful lot of his peers had thought of Erasure as a villain’s power, too fearful of their quirks being taken away by his own to realise how amazing it could be for a hero. He had helped to remove kids with all manner of quirks from abusive homes.
More than that, he had seen the statistics. The majority - a hair over fifty percent - of quirkless kids in the modern age either committed suicide or gained a criminal record by the age of eighteen. But while the quirkless held that twisted record in terms of percentage, a larger total number of those with mutant quirks faced the same situation.
Aizawa himself had never sympathised with those who feared mutants, even though his own power left him defenseless against them - unable to remove their offensive capability like he could with emitters or transformers. Indeed, several of his earliest contacts in the heroism business had been the owners of Hopper’s Cafe, a cat cafe he still frequented that was started by a pair of reformed-criminal mutants.
His musings were brought to a halt as Izuku poked him gently in the arm. “Mister Aizawa?” He locked eyes with the boy, who smiled. “Sorry, I was calling you but you didn’t hear me. I wanted to ask, do you know about a girl with pink hair and red horns - kinda like mine?”
Aizawa searched his memory for a moment before shaking his head. “No. Sorry, kid. Why do you ask?”
Izuku shrugged. “I had a dream about her last night. She’s as old as me, named...Toga, I think? I can’t remember if that’s her family name. Anyway, I met her at the park yesterday, and she licked my blood after I fell down and got hurt, and then she turned into me and I got scared and ran away.” Izuku frowned, a sad look crossing his face. “I don’t want her to think I think she’s a monster, so I was wondering if you could find her so I could say sorry?”
Aizawa raised an eyebrow, but opened his phone. “I can take a look. Was anyone with her?”
Izuku furrowed his brows in concentration. “I don’t remember seeing anyone,” he admitted. “We were alone in the middle of the park, looking at the sakura tree and all the pretty pink petals. They were the same colour as her hair.”
Aizawa nodded, checking a public-access citizen database on his phone but coming up empty.
“Sorry,” he shrugged apologetically. “Children aren’t in the database unless they go missing and the parents file a missing persons report with the police - and I can’t use the hero database or quirk registry to look for someone unless it’s involved with a case. Sorry, Izuku.”
Izuku frowned, but nodded. “It’s okay, thank you.”
They spent the rest of the ride to the precinct in a companionable silence, Izuku eagerly watching the world whizz by with sharp, catlike blue eyes.
Aizawa and Izuku hopped out in front of the precinct, while Hizashi headed for the parking lot to find a space to park. Holding tightly onto Aizawa’s hand as they entered the massive building, Izuku watched his surroundings keenly, wincing slightly whenever someone spoke up loudly next to him. It wasn’t often that he went anywhere so busy.
Aizawa led him through the maze of corridors and cubicles seemingly by memory, eventually ending up at a desk manned by a cat-headed officer. Izuku stared at the man’s feline features until the officer glanced back at him, at which point Izuku flushed in embarrassment and averted his gaze.
“...okay, Izuku?” he heard Aizawa say, and he realised that in his fascination with the cat officer he’d totally forgotten to keep track of the conversation.
“Um, sorry, I wasn’t listening,” Izuku apologised. Aizawa gave a small smile and bent down so Izuku could hear him better - not that it was necessary.
“I’m going to go in and see Detective Tsukauchi now. I need you to stay here with Officer Sansa until I’m done, then I’ll come back for you. Is that okay?”
Izuku glanced up at the ‘SANSA’ nameplate on the cat officer’s desk, and nodded. “Okay. See you later, mister Aizawa.”
Aizawa extended a hand to Izuku’s head, but seemingly thought better of whatever he was doing and retracted it without a word before slipping through a door behind Officer Sansa.
Izuku took a seat on a nearby chair and waited, kicking his legs to alleviate the boredom. It wasn’t as loud here as downstairs in the lobby, which he was happy about, but the voices he could hear were too indistinct to make out.
He suddenly heard an unfamiliar voice from the room behind Officer Sansa, barely loud enough to be clear to his keen ears. “Eraser. Bad news.” A shadow of fear passed over Izuku’s face at that, and he silently began wondering what the man might be talking about.
After what felt like hours, Aizawa emerged from the office with a grim expression on his face. Izuku felt a rising sense of discomfort as Aizawa caught his eyes, then averted his gaze as he walked closer.
“I-Is everything alright? Mister Aizawa?” Izuku asked, a lilt of fear creeping into his voice as Aizawa approached.
“Listen, kid,” Aizawa said, crouching down to meet Izuku’s eyes while running a hand through his hair. “I… don’t know how to tell you this.” Aizawa’s voice was slightly unsteady.
“W-what is it?” Izuku asked again, his brows pinched together.
“Your mom...she went away,” Aizawa grimaced at his choice of words. Tears gathered in Izuku’s eyes, and confusion and hurt were painted across his face with a frown.
“Whe-Where did she g-go? When will she come b-back?” the boy sniffled, trembling slightly. It was painfully obvious that he wouldn’t be able to handle the news just yet,
"She..." He paused, unsure of how to word what he wanted to say. "She won’t come back." The pain in the boy's eyes made Aizawa grimace slightly, and the man hated how he watched as light faded from Izuku's eyes.
“...oh,” the boy whispered, and then he had his face buried in Aizawa’s shoulder, wet with tears.
Aizawa lost track of how long he held the boy there, whispering reassurances into his ear.
Back in the office, Tsukauchi slid the macabre image of the bloody bathtub and the razor blades back into the file.
The next few weeks sped by like a blur for Izuku. Aizawa and Hizashi - whose family name was apparently ‘Yamada’, but Izuku was used to calling them Aizawa and Zashi respectively so neither bothered to correct him one way or the other - told him that he’d be moving in with them. Izuku was...okay with it. If his mom wasn’t there to look after him, he felt the two of them would be nicer to him than some other family.
His sleep was oddly dreamless for the first few nights, until he started dreaming again about either the girl with the horns or his mother on a regular basis - sometimes both, though he never remembered the details.
He never went back to nursery school, instead being watched by either Aizawa, Hizashi, or a nice lady the same age as the other two named Nemuri when both of the others were busy. She was odd, but Izuku liked her - though he didn’t miss the quiet sadness that seemed to pass between the three of them whenever Nemuri came to visit while Aizawa and Hizashi were both there.
Weeks turned into months, and Izuku eventually started his first year of elementary school. The ‘Yamazawas’, as Nemuri referred to his new guardians (much to Aizawa’s chagrin), made sure to put him in a local place with a reputation for treating people with mutant-type quirks well. It didn’t take long for Izuku to make some friends - Mina Ashido and Eijiro Kirishima became semi-regular guests at the Yamazawa household.
Indeed, it was those two friends who eventually led the oblivious Izuku to realise just how much he had missed about his guardians. One day midway through first grade, the trio met at the Yamazawa household for a play-date, just as they’d been doing regularly for the last few months - but this time, Hizashi happened to be home. He happily helped the kids to assemble some lunch.
As they sat munching on some sandwiches, Mina spoke up. “Hey, Izuku? Why does your loud dad call us all ‘little listeners’? It sounds kinda familiar.”
Izuku furrowed his brow. “Dunno, I guess I never asked. Also, ‘loud dad’? What’s that mean?”
Mina shrugged. “Well, y’know, you’ve got Yamada-sama - Zashi, as you call him - as your dad, and he’s loud. Then you’ve got Aizawa-sama as your other dad, and he’s quiet.”
A look of confusion flashed across Izuku’s features for a second, before he shook his head. “Oh, do you think they’re married?”
Mina tilted her head. “Yeah? Aren’t they?”
Izuku furrowed his brows in thought. “I don’t know… I’ll ask,” he said, drawing in a breath. “ZASHI?” he yelled. “ARE YOU AND AIZAWA MARRIED?”
Mina burst out laughing as a near-deafening “YES, DIDN’T YOU KNOW?” came back from the other room.
Izuku’s brain practically shut down at the realisation, and it took Mina starting to tickle him to snap him out of his reverie.
“...huh,” he replied, and Mina burst into renewed peals of laughter.
Izuku felt a stinging in his eyes, but he suppressed the urge to shed a tear even as he was suddenly reminded of his mom. He’d quietly told his friends before that his original mom and dad had gone away a long time ago, and was slowly coming to accept Aizawa and Hizashi as his new parents, but the wounds on his heart were still fresh.
It was months later, a few weeks into their second year, that their school suffered a power outage. The teacher decided to get out an old box radio to have some background noise - the projector they had been using to study the English alphabet wasn’t working. As the radio host chattered away about the changes to the current top ten hero list, Eijiro raised an accusing finger at Izuku.
“Izuku, are you sure your loud dad isn’t Present Mic? He sounds really similar.”
Izuku shrugged slightly as he delicately pulled out a piece from the game of Jenga the three were playing, remembering what Hizashi had told him previously about his career. “Yeah, he figured you guys would realise sooner or later. Don’t tell anyone, okay?” He quirked an eyebrow as he tossed the discarded piece aside. “What gave it away?”
“Just his voice, really,” Eijiro shrugged.
A mischievous smile spread across Mina’s face. “Did you figure it out yourself, or did he have to tell you?”
Izuku sighed as Mina giggled. “I’m not that oblivious, you guys. His and Aizawa’s room stinks of hair gel, I basically just asked what it’s all for, and he told me.”
Mina wrinkled her nose. “It does? Yuck. I don’t like hair gel.”
“Apparently they can’t really smell it,” Izuku shrugged. “I guess it’s just my ‘quirk’”, he guessed, putting air-quotes around the last word,
Mina rolled her eyes, though she had a knowing smile on her face. “This again? C’mon, Izuku, you can’t really still think you’re quirkless, right?” She tapped her own horns with a finger. “We’re horn buddies! People don’t just get horns outta nowhere!”
Eijiro nodded as he plucked out another Jenga piece. “Plus you’ve got super-hearing, super-smell, super-taste, super-sight, super-touch… we learned about the five senses, remember? All of yours are super. Plus, you can beat me at arm wrestling. That could be super-strength, too. No way that isn’t a quirk.”
Izuku sighed in defeat as he accidentally knocked over the tower. “Maybe? I guess I could ask one of my dads if I should get tested somewhere?”
“Sounds like a good idea, man,” Eijiro replied. “Y’know, I was marked quirkless for a while too because of the toe-bone thing. But as you can see,” he started, as he rippled waves of hardness across his skin, “that didn’t end up mattering much. So yeah,” he gave Izuku a grin, “you should totally get tested!”
Izuku nodded with a slight smile of his own. “I guess there’s no harm in it, right?”
“Izuku,” Aizawa sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as they left the quirk counselling centre that weekend, “why did you never tell us your blood is bright blue?”
Izuku could only shrug sheepishly. “I guess I thought I’d told you?”
Aizawa rubbed his temples calmly and sighed again. “Problem child, if there’s ever anything else about your body that you know is different - or just anything at all about your health, honestly - please spare me the worry and just tell me immediately.”
Izuku giggled slightly at the title. He wasn’t sure exactly when Aizawa had started referring to him as ‘Problem Child’, but he found the term endearing coming from him.
“I will, I promise. Super-senses, blue blood, horns,” Izuku counted off on his fingers. “Pretty sure that’s it, though Kirishima thinks I’ve also got super-strength or something.”
“Oh?” Aizawa raised an eyebrow. “Well, I guess we might find out when the blood sample comes back. How’s it feel?”
Izuku eyed the hygienic patch the nurse had put over the vein he’d drawn the blood from. “Doesn’t feel sore or anything. Can I take the patch off?” Without waiting for an answer, Izuku plucked it off his skin.
Aizawa gently grabbed his arm and inspected it. “We might have to add regeneration to that list,” he observed. “It’s like nothing was ever there.”
Izuku eyed his pristine skin. “Weird. Nice, but weird.” He looked up at Aizawa. “Even if I do have a quirk, isn’t it weird for a quirk to do so much stuff?”
Aizawa hummed thoughtfully. “It’s abnormal, but not unheard of. Some kids’ quirks are combinations of both parents’, or even a combination of one parent’s and a brand-new one. And sometimes, well, sometimes quirks are just like that. Take your friend Ashido - she can make acid, sure, but she can also control it and resist it. It’s possible your quirk is similar.”
Izuku was pretty sure his quirk was still weird - Mina’s abilities at least had the decency to abide by a single theme, acid - but he understood what Aizawa was trying to say. They walked back to the car in a companionable silence.
It was a week later, while Shota was sitting in the living room, that a letter slipped underneath the door.
He raised an eyebrow at it. Their apartment complex didn’t exactly have the security of a hero agency, but they made sure to pick somewhere with a good security service - and any mail should have been deposited in their postbox, not swept under the door.
He looked it over carefully - it was definitely too lightweight to contain a bomb, so he figured it was probably safe. Breaking the seal on the envelope, Aizawa put on his reading glasses and started scanning through it.
His eyebrows shot up as he started reading.
Dear Mr. Aizawa,
My name is Dr. Nedzu. I am the Principal of UA Academy, a Pro Hero, and - perhaps more importantly for now - a ‘man’ with an offer to make you.
Aizawa knew the name - the Principal was widely known throughout the hero world as a fearsomely intelligent, even ruthless, but undeniably effective strategist.
The blood test results of Izuku Midoriya, your ward, raised several high-priority notice flags upon being processed by the lab. Through the exertion of much of my considerable personal influence, I have seemingly been successful in preventing news of his test results from reaching the higher-ups in the Heroics and Public Safety Commission.
Aizawa’s eyes narrowed. Like many underground heroes, he had heard more than a few rumours of… clandestine activity performed by the HPSC.
You will thank me for this. Your ward possesses an extremely rare type of blood - his blood contains copper where normal blood contains iron, which makes it highly corrosive to most life (and also gives it a bright blue tint). This blood condition is referred to as hemocupria, and for reasons unclear to myself the HPSC is very invested in acquiring anyone who has it.
On top of this, your ward also has no regular quirk factor in his blood, and is technically quirkless - my own modified tests, however, managed to detect a very similar compound. The only apparent purpose this compound serves is to transceive chemical signals. It is possible, however, that this compound is also responsible for his oddities of appearance and ability.
Finally, a note should be made regarding his DNA structure. He is, at best, only seventy-five percent human. The other quarter is entirely unknown to me. His human DNA correlates extremely strongly with that of Inko and Hisashi Midoriya; it would seem that they are almost certainly his biological parents, while some unknown outside influence caused his genetic structure to mutate even in the womb.
I would be glad to perform more tests myself on a voluntary basis once the boy has grown up, but for now I urge you to be vigilant in preventing him from being similarly tested again. My sources inside the HPSC informed me six months ago that a girl with very similar traits - horns, hemocupria, and so forth - was taken in by the HPSC for experimentation purposes. I have not heard anything further of her, and I believe it safe to presume her dead.
Aizawa briefly recalled Izuku talking about the girl with horns and pink hair he’d met at the park on the day Aizawa took him in. Was that who Nedzu was talking about? He immediately decided to leave that part out of whatever he told Izuku - he knew his son (or ‘ward’, he supposed) still held a fondness for the girl. He kept reading.
As I said, I have an offer to make you. I will be better able to protect Izuku from the HPSC if he is directly under my care; as such, I would like to offer you and your husband jobs as teachers at UA Academy. The post will come with on-campus accommodations, which will be well-equipped to look after him - and any of his medical needs can be seen to by Recovery Girl, who has my complete trust.
Please consider this offer carefully, and dispose of this letter when you are done reading it. Drop your reply into the dumpster below your window when it is ready - I will await it personally.
Yours in confidence,
Principal Nedzu
Aizawa shook his head at the last request, but figured he might as well go along with it. From what he’d heard of Nedzu, eccentric schemes when dealing with the rat were pretty much par for the course.
He read through the letter a second time, then again, committing every detail of the situation to memory. That done, he lit a match and set the paper alight, watching it slowly crumple up and turn to ash that he swept into the kitchen’s bin.
He wasn’t sure what to do. On one hand, he trusted the HPSC about as far as he could throw their glitzy headquarters complex - in other words, not at all. On the other hand, Nedzu himself was also rumoured to engage in under-the-table scheming. Was it worth the risk of throwing Izuku into the lion’s den to escape from the Commission’s wolves?
He decided to talk about it with Hizashi - at any rate, his better half should certainly have a say in such an important decision.
It was a long few hours until Hizashi brought Izuku home from school, and the boy immediately twigged that something was up. For all his obliviousness, Izuku had always been good at figuring out peoples’ emotions - Aizawa swore at times it was like he could literally smell how others were feeling.
Thankfully, after Aizawa returned Izuku’s concerned stare with a soft glance, Izuku got the message - they’d talk about it another time.
When Izuku eventually went to bed, Aizawa pulled Hizashi outside onto the moonlit balcony to talk.
“What is it, Shota?” Hizashi asked quizzically. He wasn’t used to his husband being so nervous about anything.
“Keep your voice down,” Aizawa whisphered. “It’s about Izuku, and I don’t think he should know all of what I’m about to tell you.”
Hizashi nodded, his face growing serious. “Okay. What happened?”
Aizawa sighed. “I got a letter from Nedzu.”
Hizashi raised an eyebrow. “The Nedzu?”
“Yeah,” Aizawa nodded. “He apparently intercepted Izuku’s blood test results and prevented them from being shared with the Commission. He says Izuku’s technically quirkless. His powers, horns, blood, and everything else is caused by him not being...fully human.”
Hizashi had opened his mouth to comment, but closed it as his shock prevented him from saying anything, so Aizawa continued.
“Apparently the last person they found like that was taken away by the Commission and never seen again. My guess is that it’s that girl he’s mentioned he used to dream about.”
Hizashi finally managed to speak. “H-He’s not human? But he’s just a…a kid, Shota! Don’t we know both his parents?”
“Shhh,” Aizawa admonished. “Keep your voice down. And yes, he’s the Midoriyas’ kid, Nedzu thinks there’s some third influence on his genes.”
“Okay,” Hizashi replied, keeping his voice steady and running a hand through his hair. “What else did Nedzu say?”
“He says he wants to help us protect him from the Commission. He’s offered both of us jobs at UA, including accommodations for our whole family. He says it’ll also make it easier if Recovery Girl takes over as Izuku’s doctor so she can hide anything that might alert the Commission.”
Hizashi hummed in thought. “Do you trust him?”
Aizawa considered the question carefully. “Not entirely,” he admitted. “Nedzu’s always playing his own games. But I trust him more than the Commission. You know the rumours as well as I do.”
Hizashi sighed, nodding. “I’m with you. I guess we'll take it, then?” At Aizawa’s silent nod, he asked the question Aizawa suspected to be forthcoming. “What do we tell Izuku? Will he have to leave school?”
Aizawa gave a slight shrug. “Not sure. I’ll try to set up a meeting with Nedzu. He gave me a way to contact him in return. We’ll see how it goes.”
“Alright,” Hizashi nodded. “That works.” He leaned into Aizawa, sighing. “I didn’t expect raising the kid would end up being so complicated.”
“Mhm,” Aizawa returned, leaning in as well. “But I wouldn’t give him up for the world.”
They remained like that for a few minutes, staring out at the stars.
Back in his bedroom, Izuku dreamt of red horns and sakura blooms for the first time in months.
A few days later, Aizawa made his way towards UA via the subway system. Hizashi had wanted to accompany him for the meeting, but one of his coworkers at the station had called in sick at the last minute.
Nedzu hadn’t agreed to meet per se, but Aizawa was more than willing to use the one-way communication Nedzu had set up to his advantage and test if Nedzu was willing to reschedule his other appointments to make time. As such, he had simply written that he wanted to meet to discuss matters, and would be at UA at 10am that Wednesday.
Much to his surprise, a guest card dispensed itself for him right as he approached the famous perimeter wall and the accompanying access card dispenser. Eyeing the red blinking light on one of the cameras, Aizawa guessed Nedzu was watching him. Creepy.
He swiped the card, and the oversized gate swung open to allow him in. It was much bigger than when Aizawa had been a student himself - he was pretty sure it was big enough to fit someone twice All Might’s size. At any rate, it was certainly big enough to handle even the biggest mutants. Aizawa approved.
He was met by the Principal himself at reception, who looked positively tiny in person. The rat (mouse? dog? abnormally small bear?) only came up to his waist, but was dressed in a smart suit that put Aizawa’s own casual outfit to shame.
“Aizawa!” Nedzu called, a smile on his face and a glimmer in his beady eyes. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Welcome to your future place of employment.”
Aizawa shook the offered paw, but huffed. “Never said I was taking your deal.”
“Ahh, yet the simple fact you asked to meet means you plan to, but wish to make sure of certain conditions first, yes? Please, follow me to my office before we talk business. It’d be impolite of me not to at least offer you some tea.”
Aizawa followed the Principal through a maze of corridors, eventually coming to a gargantuan wooden door, carved with elaborate decorative patterns. Nedzu dropped to all fours and scurried through a flap apparently made to fit him, while Aizawa heaved open the door and took a seat in one of the normal-sized seats in front of the Principal’s proportionately massive desk.
The small mammal tilted his head as he sat down, pulling a teapot from seemingly nowhere. “Tea?”
At Aizawa’s grunt of assent, he produced two small teacups and filled each with what he had to admit was a pleasantly fragrant tea.
“So,” the rodent smiled. “What do you wish to ask of me?”
Aizawa took a sip before speaking, and was impressed by how good it tasted. “First thing. What can we do about Izuku’s education, if we take your deal? Withdrawing him from a school in which he is happy could be suspicious, and will definitely lead to questions from him.”
Nedzu’s smile never left his face. “He won’t need to move schools at all. We can arrange alternative transportation from UA to his current school. UA has a fleet of private cars, as well as drivers on its payroll. Should you prefer to drop him off personally, I will happily ensure that either you or Yamada are free at appropriate times by personally configuring the class schedules.”
Aizawa resisted the temptation to express his gratitude before laying out all his demands. “Second thing. You will not do any kind of experimentation on him without my, Hizashi’s, and Izuku’s express consent, as well as a detailed explanation of what it is you’ll be doing.”
“Of course,” Nedzu replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. “You do recall that I am specifically trying to prevent Izuku from being a research specimen for the Commission, yes?”
Aizawa ignored the dig. “Third thing - I know you already mentioned it, I just wanted to restate it - UA will handle all of Izuku’s medical needs internally.”
Nedzu raised a finger. “Where possible,” he clarified. “Recovery Girl is a skilled doctor with a legendary medical record, but she is not omnipotent. If Izuku requires something she cannot provide, I will do my best to find a suitably discreet replacement.”
“Fair enough,” Aizawa admitted. He only had one more item left. “Lastly,” he said, his voice hardening. “You will tell me why you’re helping us this much. What’s in it for you?”
Nedzu was silent for a drawn-out minute as he took a long sip of tea. When he spoke, his voice no longer carried its old air of cheery politeness, but was soft and serious.
“You are no fool, Aizawa, so I will let you reason that largely for yourself.” He took another sip of tea before looking Aizawa dead in the eyes. “Just understand that that girl the Commission got to is not the only test subject they ever took.”
The implication hit Aizawa like a truck, and he closed his eyes and nodded. “I... apologise for my suspicion.”
“That’s quite alright,” Nedzu replied, his now-uncanny cheerful persona seemingly restored as he handed over a business card. “Just let me know when the three of you would like to move in via email. We will also have to set about training you and Yamada as teachers, so the sooner the better.”
“Thank you kindly, Nedzu-sama.” Aizawa stood, pocketing the card. As he turned to leave, a question occurred to him. “Call me paranoid, but won’t suddenly offering staff on-campus accommodations when we join the faculty seem a bit suspicious?”
Nedzu gave a slight smile. “Not to worry, I have that all under control. Have a look at the headlines in tomorrow morning’s paper, won’t you?” With that, he bade Aizawa farewell, and the Erasure Hero slipped out and closed the door behind himself.
Nedzu flipped open his laptop, which automatically opened up his internet browser to the most recent page. The distressed face of Himiko Toga from her HPSC profile shot stared back at him.
Taking a sip of tea, he closed the tab and opened up his email. He was sure that the red “STATUS: DECEASED” on that poor girl’s datasheet would haunt him for years to come. For now, though, he had a press briefing to schedule.