Archive of Our Own ^beta

The months leading to July were a flurry of activity. 

After the moment of numbing terror Izuku had experienced at seeing Dabi’s note, Izuku had called the squad to council. This was bigger than Izuku and his group of vigilantes. They needed help, and they needed to be quick about it. 

Reaching out to Tsukauchi had been the easiest thing about the whole situation, in Izuku’s opinion. Tsukauchi, who had enough of a familiarity with Izuku’s hidden communication network, and had understood Izuku’s message with a frightening rapidity that could only come with years of experience on the force. Convincing the Hero Public Safety Commission had been another thing. Annoying bureaucrats that they were, the HPSC didn’t want to take the word of a vigilante that had been making them look bad for the last few years. If the situation hadn’t been so dire as to face off against a whole army of manic extremists, Izuku would have just let his squad, Eraserhead, and Tsukauchi’s Task Force. 

It had taken a month of back-and-forths, and some behind the scenes threats before the HPSC acquiesced, and the necessary resources and materials were available for them to plan. Officially, the HPSC was quietly sending out orders to the Top Ten Heroes, requisitioning them from their current cases to have them ready to send off. Off the record, Izuku heard Tsuka and Eraser murmuring something about Nedzu, the Principal of U.A. From the intel Izuku had gathered over the years, no one loathed the HPSC more than Nedzu, and any chance to absolutely wreck them, he would, and with extreme prejudice. It was a level of petty that Izuku aspired to one day reach

Once things had cleared up on the HPSC’s end, things started rapidly moving forward. From the updates that Tsuka was giving them, while things were being kept quiet, the plans set in place were on schedule. U.A. was building extra housing to prepare for any people unhoused in the oncoming upheaval. Housing was already filling up at a rapid pace; the Paranormal Liberation Army was launching guerilla attacks on Tokyo and Musutafu, as well as other surrounding cities and prefectures, and the damages were growing rapidly. 

Izuku was in the middle of arranging housing for his People When he had brought it up, many of the community were upset, not liking the idea of leaving their homes. A lot of them didn’t want to leave, to abandon the only place that they could call home. But that didn’t matter to Izuku; there was no point in protecting an area that had no one left. What were empty buildings and streets to the People who filled them with life?

No one could argue with that, not when Izuku faced them, eyes solemn and earnest. So they compromised, and the kids at the Lily House, as well as a few volunteers, would be moved to one of the safe houses on U.A. grounds where they could stay out of the line of fire, which was rapidly encroaching on the neighborhood. The other people living in Western Musutafu would remain in the neighborhood until they could no longer safely do so. Izuku didn’t like it, but he wasn’t willing to take their freedom of choice away. He knew all too well how valuable it was. 

0o0-0o0-0o0

The day the kids from the Lily House were supposed to move onto U.A. grounds, Izuku was facing a dilemma.

Inko, who was normally at work, was at home, and, from the sounds of constant shifting and creaking, rapidly moving around. This was problematic for Izuku, who was waiting for the woman to leave for her day shift at Musutafu General before leaving to help escort the kids from the Lily House to their new homes. Sure, Izuku’s help probably wasn’t needed, but to Izuku, this was important. Helping out his People, even with something as simple as moving, showed them that he cared, that he was willing to support them in even the smallest of things. And so Izuku would be there to assist. Plus, there was a gathering at U.A. later that night, where the Naruhata Vigilante Squad, Tsukauchi’s Police Force, and an initial group of Heroes in-the-know that would be meeting for the first time. So it was imperative for Izuku to be there.

And yet.

A hurried knock at his door had Izuku look up from his seat at his desk. He didn’t bother giving Inko permission to enter, knowing that she would do so of her own accord regardless. Sure enough, she did. Her expression was frantic, as if she was trying to do too many things at once and not getting anything accomplished. Izuku raised an eyebrow.

“Izuku, honey, you need to start packing,” Inko said, coming into the room with a few suitcases. Izuku blinked.

“Packing?” He asked, sitting up straight at his desk. 

“Yes, baby, we’re moving,” Inko repeated, placing the suitcases on his bed and opening them. 

“Why? The attacks haven’t reached this part of the neighborhood,” Izuku said, furrowing his brows. Inko twisted her fingers nervously.

“Mitsuki called,” Inko said, as if that explained everything. Izuku stared at her, and when she just looked at him with a frown, Izuku sighed, having to prompt her. 

“Why did she call?” Izuku asked.

“Mitsuki said that the families of the Heroics Course students were being asked to move to U.A.’s campus grounds, so that they couldn’t be held hostage by the League of Villains of the Paranormal Liberation Army.” Inko explained, and Izuku lifted a brow. 

“But I don’t go to U.A.,” Izuku said, and Inko nodded.

“Yes, but Katsuki does, and apparently, after talking with Katuski’s homeroom teacher, Mitsuki decided that we counted as people who could be used against Katsuki.” Inko explained, and Izuku nodded. In actuality, Izuku didn't even know where this notion of “being used against Katsuki” had come from. Katsuki had been one of his go-to tormentors since Izuku had turned four, when he didn’t manifest a quirk, and from age five had actively sabotaged and ostracized Izuku from forming any friendships. Izuku often wondered how the explosive blond had even made it into U.A.’s Heroics course when the blond didn’t care about anyone but himself. Then again, Aldera Junior High had been an incredibly toxic environment, so Izuku wasn’t too surprised that they had covered up any…problems that Katsuki may have caused. 

Izuku’s nod was a good enough sign for Inko that he understood.

“Start packing, baby, I’ll be back to check in after I’ve packed my own,” Inko said, and she walked out of his room, closing his door. Faintly, Izuku could hear her down the hall, and the shifting of cabinets and drawers.

Izuku sighed, sitting there for a moment. He glanced at his bed, towards the hidden box that kept his gear. Should he pack it with him, or leave it behind? If he and Inko moved onto campus grounds, would he ever be able to return here? For that matter, would Izuku even want to come back here? 

His burner phone vibrated, and he pulled it out.

V Squad (You, Knuckleduster and five others…)

Aster: I will be arriving at U.A. grounds within the hour.

Black-eyed Susan: Me, Rapt, ‘n Moyuru’ll be there around two, gonna bring snacks ‘n shit for after we’re done with the brats

Yellow Tulip: i’ll be at the gates in thirty! just left my apartment. 

Oak: I have just arrived. I will be meeting with Nedzu and Eraserhead shortly.

Aster: @Violet Are you still arriving at 4?

Violet: Well, since we’re moving onto U.A. grounds, I’ll probably be there around 3:30pm instead.

Aster: You’re being relocated?

Black-eyed Susan: Haaaah? Why?

Violet: We apparently can be “used” against one of the Heroics kids, so we’re being moved onto grounds so we’re not used against him.

Oak: “We” as in you and your guardian?

Violet: Unfortunately :/

Black-eyed Susan: Aw shit, kid’s bringin’ out the emojis

Black-eyed Susan: Must be real upset right now

Oak: If you need separate housing, let me know. I will have Nedzu arrange separate lodgings for you. Or, at the very least, get you moved to the Lily House.

Violet: That’s too much trouble to go to.

Black-eyed Susan: It’d be easier if ya just ditched her and came to live with one of us kid

Violet: I’m still a minor, unfortunately. She’d force me to come back because “it’s too unsafe” for someone like me to be out there on my own. 

Black-eyed Susan: For fuck’s sake kid, she’s toxic as all hell

Aster: As much as I dislike agreeing with Soga, he is right. Your guardian’s behavior towards you is extremely toxic, and dangerous towards your overall development.

Violet: It’s not that bad.

Black-eyed Susan: Kid, you don’t even know how to clean a bathroom, the fuck you mean it’s not that bad?

Violet: ….

Oak: I will make separate housing arrangements for you, just in case. 

Oak: Whatever decision you make in revealing your status as Adamantine, you know that we’ll support you regardless. 

Violet: ….okay.

Izuku stared down at his burner phone. It…it would be nice, to finally not have to be under the same roof as Inko. The more he thought about it, the more appealing it was; o not have to pretend to be docile and incompetent, to be treated as a normal human being, one that didn’t needed to be treated with gentle hands because he was fragile. Inko…Izuku wasn’t really sure that she viewed Izuku as anything other than a helpless child. Nothing had changed over the years; she made his food bite-sized, she wouldn’t let him cook, wouldn’t let him clean, wouldn’t let him do anything that she thought posed a threat to him. It was humiliating and demeaning, how she treated him. And Izuku was tired of it. 

But was it worth it? Was it worth going through all the trouble of separating from her? Inko would put up a fight, Izuku knew. He’s seen it happen back when he was nine, and Inko had made him sit in the child’s seat of the grocery cart at the store. Izuku had rarely been able to go out by himself at that point, and had gone along with her demands just so he could stay out longer. When a woman had commented that Izuku was too old to be sitting up there, that he could walk and take care of himself at the side of the cart…well, by the time Inko had finished ripping a new one into the woman, the woman had been cowering in fear, Inko had been banned from the store, and Izuku had lost all faith in ever calling the woman his mother. 

Izuku looked down at his burner phone again. 

Meeting the vigilantes had irrevocably changed Izuku’s life. He had gone from a life of forced solitude, full of monochromes and resounding silences to loud, chaotic vibrancies that colored Izuku’s world in shades of happiness, warmth, and belonging. The Naruhata Vigilantes had wormed their way into his life, his heart before Izuku even had the chance to stop them. They didn’t treat him as lesser for not having a quirk, instead they praised him for his perseverance and strength of will and determination to do what was right. With them, Izuku was always heard, always seen, even though there were basic things he didn’t understand like cooking and cleaning. They didn’t hold his inexperience against him, but took the time to teach him in a way that didn’t demean or devalue him. Izuku was a part of the group, valued for what he could bring to the table, and treated as someone of worth. 

It was beyond amazing.   

Izuku reached for the box under his bed. He’d made his decision. 

0o0-0o0-0o0

As expected, Izuku and Inko had made it to U.A. around 3:30 pm that afternoon. Inko had tutted about his luggage, but had been too worried about moving to check his bags. Or Izuku, for that matter. Izuku was dressed in a lightweight, oversized hoodie, one that hid the harness holding his pipe. A black pair of jeans tucked neatly into his normal combat boots, and his fingerless gloves were tucked in a pocket hidden by his hoodie. Also hidden by his hoodie were arm braces, lined with metal and leather for optimal comfort and protection. Overall, not something unusual for a teenager to wear, but very unusual for Inko’s image of Izuku. 

Arriving at the gates of U.A. was…it was breathtaking. There were few things that impressed Izuku these days, the weariness of the world dulling Izuku’s eyes. But U.A., with its sprawling grounds, its tasteful, elegant buildings, and the milling of hundreds of people, it was a city within a city, removed and different from what Musutafu had to offer. 

“It is quite something, isn’t it?” Inko murmured softly, and Izuku had to agree with her. It truly was. The gates welcomed them, scanning over them with a beam of blue light. Izuku wondered, for a split moment, if the gate’s security was going to point out his pipe, but nothing out of the ordinary happened, and Izuku entered unhindered. 

‘It must be because they have dozens of Heroes and students entering and leaving every day,’ Izuku mused to himself, watching as ten Heroics students checked the bags of each person entering. The students worked in pairs, so that the unavoidable lines wouldn’t be as bad to deal with. Izuku and Inko were checked in easily enough, and as they were given directions to the housing they would temporarily be in, Izuku heard a commotion on his left. 

To Izuku’s surprise, there were General Education students standing in front of a crowd of kids. It wouldn’t be that odd, given the constant evacuation and relocation efforts that U.A. has been making. What was surprising was that the group of kids were kids Izuku recognized; they were from the Lily House, they were Izuku’s People. What were they doing here so early? 

‘ And more importantly,’ Izuku thought, ‘ what the fuck was that Gen Ed kid saying to them?’

“You’re lucky we’re accepting slumdogs like you,” the kid was saying, a sneer on his face. Izuku tensed. “Slumdogs” was a nasty slur used for those who lived in Western Musutafu. To say that to a bunch of kids, especially when U.A. stated that they had a zero-tolerance policy for discrimination…

“Oh, look at those poor kids,” Inko said from his right. “Where are their parents, I wonder?” Izuku barely withheld his sneer. Inko was dense at the best of times, and openly critical at the worst. If she knew that these were kids who had what were considered “villainous quirks” her attitude would change quite quickly.

“What’s it to you?” Haibana-san’s familiar voice replied, and Izuku winced. She was getting defensive, and while she certainly had every right to do so, bigoted students like this one would only cause more problems. 

“What’s it to me?” The boy asked. “The fact that a bunch of dirty slumdogs with dangerous quirks are going to be staying on our campus sounds like it has plenty to do with me.” 

The children behind Haibana-san shifted behind her uneasily as more people began to pay attention to the squabble. It disgusted Izuku that they were just watching one of their classmates belittle people in front of them without doing anything. So much for U.A.’s reputation. 

“Oh, is the little boy uncomfortable that defenseless kids might prove a better fit for U.A. than you?” Haibana-san replied cuttingly, and Izuku crowed inwardly, delighted. Haibana-san could have a cutting wit on her if irritated enough; after a day like today, where she had probably spent the whole time keeping over a dozen overly excited children in line, her nerves were bound to be frayed. Dealing with an ass like this was bound to snap any of her remaining nerves. 

“I earned my place here!” the boy snapped, face flushing ugily. He looked Haibana-san up and down, and his expression shifted, considering Haibana-san. Izuku’s eyes narrowed, and his body tensed. This boy wasn’t about to go there, was he?

“You could earn your place here,” he said, smirking nastily. “I do have space for you to warm my—”

“Finish that sentence,” Izuku said icily, stepping up. He ignored Inko’s surprised “Izuku?” as he made his way forward, approaching fast with long, silent footsteps. The Gen Ed boy turned to Izuku, sneering as he looked down at Izuku. 

“What are you going to do to me, shrimp?” The student taunted, ignoring the way Izuku’s eyes sharpened. Haibana-san, sharp young woman she way, recognized who Izukuw as right away, and subtly stepped back.

“If you finish that sentence,” Izuku continued, slipping on his fingerless gloves, “I’ll send you to sleep.”

The Gen Ed student paused at that, confused as to what Izuku meant. Unluckily for the student, he decided to continue anyway. 

“What can a pipsqueak like you do to me, huh?” He asked. Haibana-san winced, and Izuku smiled. Then, Izuku reared back and decked the kid. The Gen Ed kid fell, and didn’t get back up. 

Whispers immediately broke out, but Izuku didn’t care. He instead turned to Haibana-san, smiling at her knowingly, reassuringly. Sure enough, the young woman’s shoulders immediately lost their tension and she smiled back, taking a step forward. That was the cue for the Lily House children to swarm forward, talking about how cool the “green-haired onii-san” was, and if he could teach them how to “make someone go to sleep that fast.”

Haibana-san snorted, whistling shortly to call the kids back from overwhelming Izuku. It was a familiar action, and Izuku smiled as Haibana-san stepped up. 

“How are you?” Izuku asked.

“Much better, now that the creep’s stopped talking.” As one, both Izuku and Haibana-san turned to look at the unconscious teenager. 

“Move-in?” Izuku asked, the unspoken ‘your time was moved up.’

“A very tall, scarred man called to let us know that we could check in early,” Haibana-san said, and Izuku knew it was Knuckle who had worked something out with Nedzu to time the kids’ move-in with Izuku’s. Izuku would have to thank the older man later. 

“What the fuck happened here?” A familiar voice snarled, and Izuku went still as he heard one Bakugou Katsuki arrive. 

Turning to face the blond, Izuku got his first look at his childhood bully for the first time in over two years. The blond was tall, towering over Izuku at nearly six feet compared to Izuku’s 5’5”. Dressed in his hero costume, Izuku could see the various scars and burns that littered the blond’s chest, and Izuku’s first thought was that the blond would have been shot, had he been on the streets during the height of the Trigger crisis. To his right, Izuku noticed a slightly taller teen with red hair and an equally-exposed chest. Only, Izuku recognized him as someone who participated in the Overhaul Raid: Kirishima Eijirou, Hero name: Red Riot. 

Almost immediately, Katsuki’s eyes zeroed in on Izuku, and Izuku watched his eyes widen in surprise before rapidly narrowing, a familiar anger in them.

“Haaaah? Shitty Deku?” Katsuki said, and while he didn’t care for the lousy name his childhood bully had given him, he took comfort in the fact that the name had little effect on Izuku at this point. The redhead next to him quietly asked if Katsuki knew him, but Katsuki ignored him.

“‘Deku’?” Izuku taunted, back straightening as he stared Katsuki down. “Really now, I thought that U.A. would have at least taught you how to read kanji by now, Katsuki.”

Hainbana-san and Kirishima-san both snorted in laughter, and Katsuki sent a withering glare towards the redhead. Interestingly enough, Kirishima brushed it off.

“It was a good burn, bro,” Kirishima said.

“Tsk,” Katsuki said, still clicking his tongue in the same way he would with his mother, when he didn’t feel like fighting back. Huh, looks like the explosive blond had made friends after all. Kirishima-san turned to Izuku, smiling in a friendly manner.

“Sorry about that!” Kirishima apologized. “We just got back from our shift, and he’s just being grumpy.” Kirishima ignored the offended “Oi!” Katsuki growled out, and Izuku snorted.

“I can see that,” Izuku replied dryly. Kirishima nodded, and his eyes fell to look at the unconscious Gen Ed student.

“Can you tell me what happened here?” Kirishima asked, and Izuku nodded. He didn’t have anything to hide.

“Your…classmate,” Izuku said, letting the derision drip through his tone. “Decided that not only would he antagonize the young woman here by calling her and the children in her care prejudiced slurs, he also decided that he could let her “earn her place by” warming his bed. In front of children.”

Kirishima winced openly, and even Katsuki looked disgusted. 

“How was he knocked out, then?” Kirishima asked, making no move to pick up his bigoted classmate. Good.

“Since the rest of the students here deemed it beneath them to interfere, I stepped up.” Izuku said, watching as many of the students who had just stood and gawked flinch, shifting guiltily and uncomfortably at Izuku’s blunt call-out. 

Katsuki snorted.

“You’re telling me you knocked him out?” Katsuki asked. “Yeah right.”

Listening from behind Haibana-san were the Lily White compound kids, and they did not take kindly to Katsuki’s incredulous doubt.

“That’s not true!” Multiple little voices shouted. One of them, an eight-year-old boy, Mikoto-kun, stepped forward, glaring at Katsuki. 

“Onii-san did too!” Mikoto-san cried, clenching small fists. “He pulled his hand back and punched forward, making the meanie go to sleep in one-hit!”

Katsuki and Kirishima-san’s brows raised in surprise, and Izuku rolled his eyes. He was short, yeah, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t pack a punch. Shaking his head, Izuku turned to Haibana-san, nodding at her.

“I have to go, I’ll check in later,” Izuku said, and Haibana-san nodded in reply, sending Izuku a grateful smile. Izuku turned and walked back towards Inko, who had this expression of stress, anger, and anxiety on her face. Izuku sighed internally at the lecture she was bound to try to give him. The separate housing was sounding better and better by the minute. 

“Oi, where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Katsuki asked, placing a hand on Izuku’s shoulder.

Now, in past years, Izuku would have frozen up at the feeling of the blond’s hand on his shoulder, reliving memories of when the blond used his quirk on Izuku. Now though? Izuku had been a blooded-vigilante for years now. So when someone grabbed him by the shoulder, Izuku did what he would have done in any situation:

Izuku flipped the blond over his shoulder. 

The blond landed on his back, hard, wheezing as the air was abruptly ejected from his lungs. The area surrounding him was quiet, and for a moment, Izuku reveled in the silence he caused. 

Of course, it was at that point that Inko came forward. 

“Izuku!” Inko cried, rushing over to him, abandoning their bags. Izuku frowned at the action. His tech and chargers were in there. 

“Izuku, baby, are you alright?” Inko asked, immediately fretting over him. “Oh, you can’t just go do that kind of thing!” Inko said, and Izuku braced himself, knowing exactly what was going to come out of her mouth next. 

“Ah, it’s okay ma’am,” Kirishima said. “I’m sure your son was just surprised—”

“You’re too fragile to be doing that kind of thing!” Inko gushed out, and Izuku felt a trickle of wry amusement at the look of confusion on Kirishima’s face. After all, Izuku had not only knocked a kid unconscious in one blow, but he had flipped a Heroics kid onto his back. The last one was especially hard to do. Inko ignored that, however. Izuku was forced to turn back to Inko, who had forcibly grabbed his hands, as if checking for damage. 

“I don’t know what got into you, Izuku, but you should know better than to try and fight anyone,” Inko continued. “Your body’s just too fragile, what if you broke something?”

Izuku rolled his eyes, shaking off Inko’s fussing hands. By now, the crowd that had first decided to watch and stare at Haibana-san was now staring at Izuku and Inko. 

“I’m fine,” Izuku said tersely, dodging Inko’s grabbing hands. 

“But honey! You punched a boy, which was absolutely not the thing to do,” Inko said, arms in the air, still trying to hold onto Izuku. Izuku snorted.

“So you would rather have that prejudiced asshole just told a girl to warm her bed?” Izuku demanded, and Inko tutted.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it like that,” Inko replied dismissively, and Izuku snarled.

“ ‘He didn’t mean it like that?’ ” Izuku parroted, his glare so fierce that Inko stepped back, surprise and a little fear on her face. Good. 

“That asshole down there was telling a young woman, only two years older than me, that she could “earn her place” by sleeping with him, and you think he’s innocent?” Izuku asked incredulously. Inko shrunk a little. 

“Well, she’s—” Inko started.

“She’s what?” Izuku continued. “She’s weaker than him? She’s asking for it? Or is it,” Izuku snarled. “That she’s got a “villainous quirk” and deserves it? Is that it?” Inko, tellingly, stayed quiet. Izuku scoffed, disgusted. 

“Why am I even surprised?” Izuku asked. “You’ve always been unashamedly quirkist. I should have known that you would excuse such a blatant display of sexual harassment.”

“Izuku!” Inko shouted, frowning in anxiety, anger, and concern. That look of deceptive-care was in her eyes once again, and it made Izuku’s insides burn . “Izuku, baby, what’s wrong? I know that this move is stressful, but you’re not normally like this! This isn’t you—”

“You don’t know me,” Izuku said. “You don’t know me, and you haven’t for years. You stopped knowing me when you decided that because I was Quirkless, I was too fragile to be anything other than a small, useless child.”

Izuku peered down at Inko, glaring at her. She shrunk back, but Izuku simply leaned forward more. He lowered his voice so that it was kept private, soft and icy.

“I haven’t been your son since the day you told me you were sorry and locked me away like your little doll. You aren’t my mother, and I haven’t considered you one for a long, long time.” Izuku said. Inko’s eyes were wide, her eyes teary. Izuku felt nothing at the sight of them. 

“Who are you to talk to Auntie like that, huh?” Katsuki asked. He had lifted himself from the ground sometime during Izuku and Inko’s argument, and he was now glaring at Izuku, blocking Izuku’s path.

“Oh, he calls you Auntie?” Izuku asked, saccharine sweet. Inko flinched. “How nice. I’m sure you and the Bakugous must have such a wonderful time together. Do you praise him for getting good grades and having a strong, Heroic quirk every day?” Izuku turned away from Inko, not bothering to watch the guilt fill her face. He turned to stare Katsuki in the eye. 

“And you,” Izuku started. “Who am I to talk like that to her? Who the fuck are you to talk to me like that? Don’t think that you can just bully your way into an answer like you’re used to.” Izuku snapped, vitriol spewing from his lips. He sneered, scoffing as he watched the explosive blond shift in surprise. Izuku took a deep breath in, calming down slightly. 

“I don’t have time to deal with prejudiced assholes like you,” Izuku said. “Unlike you, I have people to save, people who rely on me, people who are mine to protect and mine to defend. So get the fuck out of my way, or you’ll find out what happens to those who dare to cross me.”

Katsuki moved out of the way, and Izuku stalked past him, leaving the crowd behind him. Towards the entrance of the school, Izuku could see the rest of the Naruhata Vigilante Squad, who were chatting idly, ignoring the crowd of people staring at them in a wonderful mixture of curiosity and dread. Izuku smiled a little, shoulders loosening at the sight of them, and at the small hole in between Crawler and Soga, one that was meant for Izuku. He picked up his bags and walked towards the others. 

Crawler was the one to spot him first, and a wide, beaming grin lit up the man’s face.

“Ah, there he is!” Crawler called, and they all turned towards Izuku. Izuku grinned back, coming to a stop in between Soga and Crawler, idly wiping his forehead with his sleeve. It was pretty hot for June. An arm wrapped around his shoulder, and he looked up to see Soga looking down at him, amused.

“Why don’t you take that hoodie off?” Soga suggested. “Yer sweatin’ like a pig right now.” Izuku shrugged.

“I couldn’t exactly hide a pipe while riding public trans, could I?” Izuku asked rhetorically, lightly shoving the man off of him. He did as Soga suggested, and sighed at the relief of the slight breeze on his arms. Underneath the baggy sweatshirt he was wearing a skin-tight tank top, the buckles for his harness grossing diagonally over his chest. Izuku stretched his arms over his head, his scars on display for the gawking crowd. Izuku heard horrified gasp, and he sighed. Inko had followed him, it seemed. 

“Izuku, honey, what happened to you?” Inko asked. “And who are these people? They don’t exactly look the…safest.”

Soga snorted, looking at Inko with an unimpressed look. The rest of his squad shared a range of similar looks. 

“This your guardian?” Soga asked, giving her a once over. He looked at Inko, then Izuku, and then at Inko again. Soga snorted again. 

“Well, I guess we know why the kid’s hungry all the time,” Soga said, making Inko splutter and Izuku choke. Rapt and Moyuru snickered, while Knuckle and Pop shook their heads, sighing. Crawler looked confused. 

“Why would her being overweight mean Babey’s not being fed enough?” Crawler asked, a slightly odd gleam to his eyes. Rapt, Koga, and Moyuru paid no mind to that look, instead laughing again at the insult to Inko. Inko gathered her with and glared at Soga and Crawler, hands on her hips.

“Who are you to tell me I don’t feed my son enough?” Inko demanded. “And why are you acting so familiar with my son? Who, exactly, are you all?”

“We’re the ones feedin’ him,” Soga sniped. “‘Cause you can’t be bothered to feed the kid enough at home.”

“I feed him plenty of food!” Inko cried, insulted. “I give him the right amount of food for a child his age and height—”

“That’s your first mistake,” Knuckle said, his voice rumbling disapprovingly. 

“Excuse me?” Inko asked, moving her glare to Knuckle. 

“Your belief that the young man in your care is a child. He is not. He is a teenager, and all teenagers need more food, regardless of what “dietary plan” you have him on.” Knuckle said. He was frowning sharply, and Izuku got the notion that the man was far angrier than he let on. 

“Your second mistake,” Knuckle continued. “Is that you fail to take into other activities he does.”

“I pay attention to everything my son does—” Inko said, but Knuckle held a hand up, interrupting her.

“Even if he matched your idea of a stereotypical sixteen-year-old, you are forgetting that your son,” Izuku could hear the disdain dripping from Knuckle at the word, “regularly participates in local tumbling classes at the Fitness Center, in addition to working out every day. Does your “dietary plan” account for that?” Inko was silent, and Knuckle nodded, as if expecting Inko to stay silent. 

Izuku blinked, surprised. He knew that his squad was constantly on him about eating enough, but Izuku hadn’t realized it had been out of genuine concern, rather than just light teasing about him being a black hole.

“So no,” Knuckle said. “You don’t feed him enough. And that, in addition to the other signs we’ve seen coming from you, indicates that he is not safe at home under your guardianship.”

Inko’s mouth dropped open, her eyes wide. Izuku, unfortunately, was wearing a matching expression of surprise. 

Knuckle turned to the side, looking down, and Izuku followed his gaze. His gaze met the eyes of a white-colored animal dressed sharply in a suit, a scar over his eye. Nedzu, then. 

“Is this enough evidence for you, Principal Nedzu?” Knuckle asked, and Izuku side-eyed the oldest vigilante. Evidence?

“It is indeed,” Nedzu said, his voice chipper though carrying a darker undertone. From what Izuku could read of his body language, the U.A. Principal was far from pleased. “You may take young Midoriya-kun away while I have a conversation with Midoriya-san on what will be happening in the foreseeable future.”

Knuckle nodded, a darkly satisfied expression on his face. Soga slung his arm around Izuku’s shoulders, taking one of Izuku’s bags, Moyuru taking the toher before Izuku could protest. 

“C’mon kid, Power Loader’s a hella good cook, and I’m sure you’re hungry.” Soga teased, and Izuku was about to protest when his stomach grumbled. Izuku stayed quiet instead, crossing his arms over his chest and turning away from Soga’s amused face. The others laughed, and Izuku sniffed, falsely-offended. He didn’t see the look Knuckle sent Inko, nor the dawning look of realization that etched its way onto Inko’s face as Izuku was escorted into the school, away from her. 

Instead, they took Izuku to the cafeteria where he got a huge plate full of Katsudon, courtesy of Lunch Rush. Izuku’s first bite of the dish had caused him to declare katsudon his new favorite dish. Lunch Rush was inordinately pleased at Izuku’s profuse praise, and had plied Izuku with more katsudon. It became a humorous and vicious cycle where Izuku and Lunch Rush competed to see who could finish faster: Izuku, who was eating katsudon at a rapid rate, or Lunch Rush, who was whipping up said dish at alarmingly fast rates. Knuckle came in halfway through, shaking his head in amusement as he saw Izuku chowing down, but said nothing, merely sitting down to enjoy the chaos their little group created.

At quarter to five, the Naruhata Vigilante Squad left the cafeteria, Izuku waving goodbye to Lunch Rush, an extra large serving of katsudon packed to go, and everyone, Izuku himself, leaving with large coffees. 

The group chatted idly, following Knuckle as he led them to a large conference room. It was only partially filled, though Izuku easily recognized some of the people in the room, including the Number Two Hero, Hawks, the Number Six Hero, Mirko, and Izuku’s favorite and always-tired detective, Tsukauchi.

“Tsuka!” Izuku greeted the detective with a bright grin. He was very pleased, having been fed so much food. He joked about his stomach being a black hole, but the amount he packed away just now may be proving his half-assed theory right.

“Adamantine,” Tsukauchi greeted, and many people currently in the room turned their heads at his vigilante name. Izuku paid them no mind. Tsuka glared at him suspiciously.

“Who gave you coffee?” He asked, and Izuku grinned, in a good enough mood to share with the detective.

“Lunch Rush,” Izuku said, watching as the man rose from his seat.

“I’ll be back,” Tsukauchi said promptly, presumably leaving to get coffee. Izuku laughed, and he and the rest of the squad settled in at the back corner of the room, chatting away, watching as more HHeroes walked into the room. 

At 5:00pm sharp, Tsukauchi, Eraserhead, Nedzu, and this tall, blond scarecrow of a man walked into the room, and everyone quieted. Nedzu walked over to the podium, a platform already there for him. It stood to the side of a large, sleek-looking tv. 

“Thank you, everyone, for coming to this meeting.” Nedzu greeted, his eyes sweeping the room. “Now, while time is of the essence, does anyone have any questions they feel need answering before we start this meeting?”

A man, who had the oddest sense of fashion—who wore a pair of locks for earrings?—spoke up.

“Yeah, I do,” He said, and then pointed to Izuku. “Why do we have a child here? Shouldn’t he be with the rest of the students?” Izuku bristled, but stayed silent for the moment. He’d see how Nedzu dealt with this. Izuku already had a poor first impression of the school from the bigot earlier; would the Principal prove the same, or prove Izuku wrong?

“Why don’t I let him answer that, hmm?” Nedzu replied, turning to Izuku. “Adamantine?”

The room broke out into murmurs. This was the first time most of the Pro Heroes had seen Adamantine in person, and Izuku was willing to bet that most of them hadn’t believed he was as young as the rumors said. 

“Do you know,” Izuku began, silencing the room, “who it was that provided the intel that Shigaraki was going to wage an all-out war with the Heroes?”

The lock-wearing Hero, who Izuku now remembered to be Rock Lock, looked at Izuku a little uncomfortably. 

“Adamantine,” Rock Lock replied, reluctantly. Izuku nodded.

“That’s right. I, Adamantine, got the intel through my information network.” Izuku said, staring the man dead in the eye. 

“Me, a child, faced off against more Villains doped up on Trigger than most Heroes in this room. Me, a child , canvassed the majority of the Shie Hassaikai’s base, allowing for the successful takedown of Overhaul and the retrieval of his experimentation notes.” The Heroes in the room shifted uncomfortably at the reminder. And it was me, a child , that received intel from the S-Class Villain Dabi to let us know that we were going to be plunged into war against Shigaraki.”

The room was deathly silent. Izuku leaned forward in his seat, eyes boring into Rocklock’s own frozen gaze.

“So tell me, Rocklock, if I, a child, have done all that to prove that I am good enough to be here, what have you done?”

Rocklock said nothing, and Izuku nodded, leaning back in his seat. 

After a moment of tense silence, Nedzu coughed lightly, bringing everyone’s attention back to him.

“Do we have any more questions?” 

No one spoke.

“Then, let’s get this War Council started.”

0o0-0o0-0o0

After the first War Council meeting, Izuku developed a rapport with the Heroes and members of U.A.’s staff. if they treated Izuku like the competent fighter he was, he returned the courtesy; if they looked down on him, Izuku acted like the chaotic, sassy-mouthed brat he knew drove adults like Tsuka and Eraser up the wall. The Heroes learned soon enough that, while Izuku was the youngest of the Naruhata Vigilante Squad, he was by far the sassiest and sharp-witted of the lot, and that Izuku was definitely not afraid to show it.

Besides meetings with different Heroes, Izuku spent a lot of time with the rest of his squad, training and practicing new forms when he could, and continuing his patrols at night. He also made an attempt to regularly stop by the Lily White kids' new housing, though it wasn’t as often as Izuku felt it should be. The kids and adults were never mad about how rarely Izuku went to visit them, instead delighted that Izuku could visit at all. Izuku was simultaneously embarrassed and extremely pleased. 

Beyond sometimes visiting the Lily House children, Izuku didn’t spend a whole lot of time with any students, though he did bother Eraserhead, frequently, at whatever opportunity he could get. The Underground Pro was simultaneously amused and exhausted by his sass, and said as much every time he and Izuku were together, mostly because Izuku was busy mouthing off to someone every time Eraser came upon him. Izuku, of course, took great delight in this. 

Izuku could honestly say it had been some of the best times of his life. Even with a war threatening their country, Izuku was free, with family and friends and people who respected him. It was such a stark change from what he was used to, and even Izuku could tell that the change was positively affecting him.

One night, ]about a month into Izuku’s stay at U.A., Knuckle pulled Izuku aside after dinner. The two would be patrolling together, the joint patrol shifts system the rest of the squad had set up a few years ago still in effect, even if Izuku was more than capable of defending himself and taking down a wide range of opponents. The two walked to the roof of their shared building, sitting on their rooftop benches. 

Izuku sat down, content, his stomach full. Lunch Rush had made katsudon again and Izuku, despite trying many of the man’s other dishes, still held katsudon in first place. Knuckle sat down next to him, chuckling at Izuku’s antics. Izuku looked up, grinning.

“What d’ya need to talk about, Knuckle?” Izuku asked, and the older man sighed. 

“Do you remember, about a month ago, how I said that Midoriya Inko wasn’t fit to be your guardian?” Izuku nodded, tensing. He was pleased that the man hadn't referred to Inko as Izuku’s guardian or mother, though Izuku was unsure as to why Knuckle was bringing that up now.

“Nedzu, as the Principal and, more importantly, a mandated reporter, agreed that the way she was treating you was bad for your mental and physical health.” Knuckle said. “Because of this, it was decided that you would be taken out of her custody.”

Izuku’s breath left him. Away from Inko? He hadn’t dared to dream that, planning to wait out the last few years as a minor before he could leave. His squad had all offered him housing until he could get on his feet and find a job to support himself. But now, now Knuckle was saying that Inko had lost custody of Izuku, that Izuku didn’t have to go back to her. 

“Who has custody of me right now?” Izuku asked, in a smaller voice than he would like to admit. Izuku turned on the bench, lifting his legs so that he could hug them to his chest, so similar to how he had done the very first time Izuku and Knuckle had a serious conversation. They’d had many more since, but none held the weight the first one did. None until now, that is.

“Right now, U.A. has custody of you.” Knuckle said, and Izuku picked up on the odd phrasing of Knuckle’s words.

“Right now?” Izuku repeated, and Knuckle stretched out his legs, shifting. He was nervous, Izuku realized. Why?

“If…” Knuckle started, then shook his head. “When this is over, when our war against Shigaraki has run its course, would you want to move in with me?” 

Izuku’s eyes went wide, but Knuckle raised a hand, a silent request to let him keep talking. 

“I…my wife and I, we had a daughter, but, well, you know the life of a vigilante comes with making enemies. I made one too strong, and she…she didn’t make it.” Knuckle said. He looked at Izuku, looked him straight in the eye. Izuku saw sorrow, but he also saw sincerity, too, and a warmth that made Izuku’s eyes sting. 

“We, meaning my wife and I, have talked about whether or not we would want to take another child in.” Knuckle said. “I’ve told her a bit about you, and we’ve decided to take the chance. Nedzu is helping us apply for emergency foster licenses as we speak. She knows we’re the same, that you’re Quirkless, and has told me that she doesn’t care one whit about it and that if I was smart, I’d beat the ass of anyone who did.” He chuckled, his laugh eventually fading away to a sigh. For a moment, he met Izuku’s eyes. Izuku didn't look away. 

“Kiddo, when this is over, would you give us a chance?” Knuckle asked. 

“...You want me?” Izuku asked, very small and very quiet, curled up against the curve of his knees.

“We both do, kiddo. You’re intelligent, kind, and have a heart of gold.” Knuckle said, his smile pulling the scar on his left cheek. To Izuku, it made it all the more genuine. “We’d love to have you, but only if you’d like to.”

Knuckle…Knuckle wanted Izuku. Knuckle and his wife wanted Izuku. Izuku, who was Quirkless and often considered less than human. Izuku, who slowly learned that there were so many things he didn’t know how to do because Inko had stopped him from learning, stopped him from experiencing. Izuku, who could eat anyone out of house and wallet, and had accidentally done so with Knuckle before. And Knuckle said he wanted Izuku anyway.

Izuku…Izuku wanted it. He was unsure about Knuckle’s wife, but he knew that Knuckle was good for his word. He had been, since the first time Izuku had met the man. Knuckle had been a mentor and confidante and comrade all wrapped up in a strong, unyielding man. The first one to open Izuku’s heart to friends and family, the first one to buy him food, the first one to care enough about him to give him a burner phone and proper protective gear. If Knuckle would give Izuku even a fraction of what he gave Izuku now, Izuku… Izuku would be so, so happy.  

Izuku hadn’t realized that he had started crying, not until he felt Knuckle’s hand on his head, just as large and warm and gentle as it had been the first time, and Izuku nodded, over and over and over, even as his tears continued to spill down his cheeks and his chest skipped with sob-driven hiccups. 

The two of them sat there, under the late June moon, a warm wind blowing gently over them. And, for the first time in a long, long time, Izuku was looking forward to the idea of going home.

0o0-0o0-0o0

On the twelfth of July, when Izuku was out on patrol, he dropped by Hino’s Diner. Mahiru-san was on shift, looking more tired than Izuku had ever seen him before. The Diner was fairly empty with only a group of three men, men who worked at the barbershop down the street. They greeted Izuku with raised hands before going back to their quiet conversation. Most of his People respected Izuku’s rule of traveling in groups so that, should they be attacked, they would have a better chance. Still, it was sad to see one of his favorite places this empty.

Izuku smiled at the man, ordering a muffin. Mahiru-san smiled, easily slipping a lemon-blueberry muffin. Izuku didn’t let the unease show on his face. Mahiru-san’s smile was much like the smile Makoto-san wore, three months ago, when Dabi had reached out to Izuku with the news of war. 

Exiting the diner with a wave of his hand, Izuku slid into an alley, jumping up to the roofs easily. He looked down into the little brown bag for his muffin, and sure enough, there was a small slip of paper. The paper itself was a news clipping, wrinkled as if it had been handled multiple times. The picture on the news clipping was of the new manhole covers being implemented around Musutafu. A big, black 2 was underneath the image of the sun in the corner. 

2 Days from now, at dark, in Western Musutafu.

Izuku gripped the sheet in his hand tightly, and began making his way back to U.A. 

War was on the horizon.

0o0-0o0-0o0

Once Izuku had entered through U.A.’s gates, he bolted for the War Room, the large conference room they all regularly convened in. Racing through the hallways, Izuku supposed he was lucky that there was another meeting tonight; it meant he didn’t have to wait to deliver his message. 

Izuku slammed the door open, startling most of the people in there. Nedzu didn’t look surprised, though whether that was because of his animal senses or his access to the cameras around the school, Izuku didn't know. Izuku saw mouths open, probably to chastise him, but he spoke over them.

“Two days,” Izuku said, slamming the intel on the table. The room went deathly silent. 

“2 days, after dark, in Western Musutafu.” Izuku said. A beat of silence, and then another one.

The room exploded into movement. 

0o0-0o0-0o0

The day of the fourteenth was a hectic one. Western Musutafu had been evacuated quietly the night before, and seeing the neighborhood so empty had sent a twist through Izuku’s gut. Izuku hadn’t seen any of his squad since the night before, as they were all split into different groups to help evacuation. This rubbed Izuku the wrong way, because while he was confident in each of their abilities, war was different. War was bloody, ruthless, and impartial. While wars were recorded in the history books, it was always the victors that wrote the story’s end. The victors only wrote about their victories and their triumphs over their enemies; they never wrote how many people died, the homes that were lost, the families that were torn apart.

And the Naruhata Vigilante Squad? They were his family. While Knuckle would (soon) become his foster father, the lot of them had been closely knit before this was even an option. Each one of them was an integral part of his life, and without them, Izuku wouldn’t be the person he was, the vigilante he had grown into. Izuku didn’t want to go into battle not having told his family how much they mean to him. And, well, if he couldn’t say it to their faces, he’d type it out. 

V Squad (You, Knuckleduster and five others…)

Violet: @everyone: Because we may not get the chance to see each other before we leave tonight, I want each and everyone of you to know how much I love you all, and how much I value you each and everyone one of you. 

@Aster: Pop, you’re amazing, and like the big sister I’ve never had. You’re loud, unashamed, and very, very smart. Learning tactics from you has been one of my favorite things to do with you. Please don’t give up on your dream; with enough hard work and determination, you can go anywhere, and there’s nothing more satisfying than chasing after your dream with all you’ve got. After all, I made it this far, didn’t I?

@Black-eyed Susan: Soga, I know not many people tell you this, but you’re really smart. You’re smart in the way you know how to work the streets and get people to open up to you, and you’re smart in how you know about discrimination, what it looks like, what it feels like, and how to stop it. No matter what you do, I know the future will be brighter for it! Thank you for helping me build the confidence I have in myself, for making me a stronger me.

@Hyacinth: Rapt, thank you for teaching me how to relax and go with the flow more often. You always have a joke, or know how to make a situation better, even if the situation seems grim. It’s one of the things that took me the longest to learn, but it’s also now one of the things I cherish most when I go out—being able to relax and joke and connect with my People in a way I hadn’t before. Wherever your future takes you, I know it’ll be a place full of laughter and joy and snarkiness—just like you.

@Pine: Moyuru, it’s always a joy to be able to spend time with you. Seeing you work hard to change your mindset has been an inspiration to me, and it’s encouraged me to reach out to others in different, meaningful ways. Thank you for always bringing me small, silly snacks, things I’d never gotten the chance to eat when I was younger. Trying all of the snacks and desserts that I was never allowed to eat made me feel like the child I never got to be. I know you don’t consider this for yourself, but you should look into working  at homeless shelters or Quirkless shelters; your kind and gentle manner would absolutely be a welcome sight!

@Yellow Tulip: Crawler, much like Aster is an older sister, you’re older brother I never had. Your bright personality and the belief in trying to save everyone is something that connected me to you. Thank you for always being willing to talk to me about the intricacies of community service, and how it can help me with other everyday aspects of my life. Your work ethic and approach to Heroics is unique and bright, like you are. I’m sure that after this, you’ll be able to get your Hero License. It would be foolish not to. You’ve got this!

@Oak: Knuckle…you’re a mentor, a confidante and a comrade all in one tall, sometimes grumpy pack. You were the first one to reach out to me, out of our family, and the first one to see me for who I actually am. Your passion for fighting has constantly inspired me to improve my skills, and has rubbed off on me; I’m always looking for a challenge when I go out on patrol, and that has definitely led me to interesting conversations. Thank you for deciding I was worth reaching out to, and thank you for taking a chance on me. I can’t wait to go home. 

@everyone: When we come out on the other side of this, you can all make fun of me for how sappy I’m being, and I’ll (kinda) put up with it. Chances are, we’re all going to make it; we’re all tough, and we’ve been through a lot to make it to where we are now. But you’re people, my People, and I don’t want to go into something dangerous without letting you all know how much you mean to me.

Multiple people are typing…

Oak: @Violet We’re going to celebrate your birthday when this is over.

Violet: …okay.

Multiple people are typing…

 

As Izuku stared at his phone, his heart steeled in determination. Shigaraki and his forces were fierce, no doubt, but so were the Heroes. Two different sides would be fighting to see their own ideologies seen and and brought life, and Izuku and the Naruhata Vigilante Squad were all in agreement that, at the end of the day, the side that valued life above all was the side that they would choose. He was going to do his best, to fight for his family and the people who relied upon him. There was too much at stake for Izuku to falter now. 

But more than that, he was going to fight to see the light of his seventeenth birthday, if for nothing else than to give his family something to celebrate. Promises were one of the things that kept Izuku centered at night, when he doubted himself and his worth. Promises kept him focused on the present and the future to guide him on when the past would try to weigh him down. And so, Izuku made a promise to his loved ones and to himself.

He would make it to the dawn of July 15th.

0o0-0o0-0o0

Izuku wasn’t sure what he was expecting when Shigaraki and his army came to ravage the Heroes and Western Musutafu, but it certainly wasn’t familiarity.

Izuku was outfitted in an updated version of his regular gear—everything was made of kevlar, his shoes had greater shock absorption and were rimmed in steel, and his trusty pipe had been replaced by a steel rod that could be broken down into tonfas. Two-handed weapons had been what Izuku was training for, this past month, and he was excited to be getting a new toy. 

Something else everyone had received was an earpiece radio. Made specifically for this raid by one of the third year Heroics Students—Creati, if Izuku wasn’t mistaken—so that they couldn’t be hacked. Not that it mattered, considering how… loud it was. For once, it couldn’t all be blamed on Izuku and his friends. There were explosions and collapsing buildings. Over the comm line, people were exchanging information, giving updates on where some of the key players were, and giving others a heads up when an  unexpected quirk appeared. And then there were the people fighting in general. Some of the Heroes were really loud themselves, some of them were teaming up with others to take on different opponents, and sometimes, that villains were loud enough to make themselves heard on the individual comm lines. 

And then there was the Naruhata Vigilante Squad.

On a normal day, they were fairly chaotic, with even responsible, reliable Kunckleduster going a little crazy when he finds a good fight. Tonight, though? The night was young, the moon was full, and there was much chaos to be had.

“Oh fuck me sideways!” Izuku yelped. He’d just run into a horde of clones, produced by Twice somewhere not too far from his current position. 

“Don’t be stupid,” Pop chastised. “ Aerial sex is complicated at the best of times.”

“Plus, you’re Babey!” Crawler chimed in.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Izuku asked, kicking and whacking as he went. Twice clones melted as he spoke. 

“You’re still drinking juice boxes, you’re too young to have sex,” Crawler said, and several people sputtered on the shared comm line. 

“Hey, don’t come for the juice boxes!” Izuku objected. “Not only are they tasty, they’re cheap! You can get, like, twenty of them for two thousand yen!”

“Why would you need twenty juice boxes?” Someone asked over the comms.

“They taste so good, but they’re so small,” Izuku responded sadly. And then he ducked as one of the Twice clones threw a barrage of juice boxes at him.

“What the fuck, juice boxes? ” Izuku questioned in outrage. He grabbed them and chucked them back, taking out a clone for every juice box thrown. “Don’t mock me you baby back bitch!”

“Adamantine, watch your language!” Tsukauchi snapped.

“Fuck that shit!” Izuku cired, ducking two clones. “Twice made clones of himself into juice boxes! If this shadow clone jutsu motherfucker doesn’t have some sort of complex by now, I’ll eat my shorts!” Mirko cackled loudly over the line, but not loud enough to cover up the other snickers. 

“Don’t silence the kit, Tsukauchi, he’s hilarious!” Mirko said, and Izuku cackled. Soga owed him two thousand yen.

“Fuck,” Soga muttered, and Izuku knew the man had realized that he lost his bet.

“Ha, you lose that bet, Spikey?” Rapt asked immediately, the chaos-maker he was.

“Fuck you!” Soga cried, and Izuku and Rapt laughed.

“ Nuisances. ” Tsukauchi growled, and Izuku ooped.

“Tsuka’s mad,” Izuku whispered, forgetting to turn his mic off. A strangled noise came, rising above the cacophony of snorts that rang across the comm line. Izuku turned the speaker off of his mic for the moment, and refocused on his fight. It was getting hotter, so Izuku was fairly certain that Endeavor was on his way…

0o0-0o0-0o0

That process continued on late into the night. Izuku and the vigilantes would log in every so often to talk and cause chaos. Besides being reassuring for Izuku, who always had a lurking fear that his family was somehow injured or killed, it also boosted the morale of their side. While they had dealt some critical blows to Shigaraki’s side—Twice, Toga Himiko, and Mr. Compress had all been detained in some sort of fashion—there had been injuries on their side too. The last time he’d checked, Endeavour’s leg was broken, Edgeshot was unconscious, and Hawks had been MIA for the last three hours. 

It was well after four in the morning at this point, and Izuku was taking a break on the roof of the water tower, not too far away from the center of the town. Eraserhead had slipped him a few jelly packs earlier, and Izuku was taking the time to drain a few, his stomach growling. It was as he was looking over the horizon when his eyes swept right, meeting a bright crimson gaze. 

Izuku froze, eyes growing wide as he realized who, exactly, was staring him down. 

Shigaraki Tomura, leader of the Paranormal-Meta Liberation Army. The man stood tall, figure lanky yet conveying the sense that he was a predator. His hair glistened in the rapidly falling moon, silver-blue locks covering an eye as the wind blew gently. A sharp, wide grin cut the man’s face, and Izuku felt a shudder ripple down his spine.

Izuku could finally see why he had inspired so much fear in others. Shigaraki held a confidence in himself. It was seen in the way his hands were casually resting in his pockets, thumbs hanging loosely outside and in the air. How, when Shigariaki moved his head, it was always tilted down and to the side, as if he were constantly looking down on Izuku and it made Izuku feel like he was an object on display. The signs were as nerve-wracking as they were telling, and they told a grim story.

Shigaraki Tomura was a confident man, confident in himself, his quirk, and his beliefs. Backed by a very questionable grasp on his sanity and clearly defined psychotic tendencies, he was a man to be feared, both in battle and in conversation. That last bit was intuition on his part, but with the way the Villain kept staring at him, Izuku was very certain that the two of them would be having a chat soon enough. 

Sure enough, Shigaraki spoke up. When he did, his voice was a scratchy tenor, cracking from how dry it constantly was. Somehow, it fit Shigaraki perfectly.

“I haven’t seen you before, little Heroling,” Shigaraki said, taking slow steps towards Izuku. Izuku raised a hand to his comm piece to turn it on. He didn’t bother hiding it from Shigaraki; he’d probably seen it on numerous Heroes and Police Task Forces. 

“I’m not a Hero,” Izuku replied simply.

“Adamantine?” Tsukuachi asked. 

“If you're not a Heroics Student or a Hero, then why are you fighting here?” Shigaraki asked, a subtly unhinged curiosity gleaming in his eyes. 

“I don’t need to be a Hero to fight for what’s right.” Izuku replied. He ignored the questions coming over the comm. This was not the time to be paying attention to someone else. Not with Shigaraki. 

“And how do you know what’s right?” Shigaraki asked, standing at the edge of the building he was on. Izuku stood up as well. 

“I don’t, not really,” Izuku replied. “I can’t tell you what’s right and what’s wrong, because I haven’t lived your life. I can’t say that the wrongs and rights that I live by are relevant to you, because the discriminations we faced are different.”

“Is that so?” Shigaraki asked, his smile growing wide. 

“Yeah,” Izuku nodded. This was something he had talked about with Dabi, and later on with Soga. Someone couldn’t couldn’t push their own morals onto someone else, because the experiences that exposed one person to “rights and wrongs” were different for each person. 

“But,” Izuku said, a frown on his face. “I don’t need to know what’s right and wrong to know that taking away someone’s life, regardless of how they treated you, isn’t just.”

“Well aren’t you interesting,” Shigaraki declared. “What’s your name? I want to remember it. I want it to remain entrenched inside my mind when I kill you.”

That absolutely sent shivers down his spine. But Izuku persevered, swallowing against the lump in his throat. 

“Well, that isn’t very polite of you, asking for my name when you haven’t given yours.” Izuku quipped, hearing Pop scream at him for entertaining such a dangerous Villain. Shigaraki grinned toothily.

“Where are my manners?” Shigaraki mused. “Sensei would be ashamed of me. You may call me Shigaraki Tomura.” Izuku nodded.

“Well met, Shigaraki Tomura,” Izuku replied, ignoring the excited gleam of the man’s crimson eyes. “You can call me Adamantine.”

“Not a real name?” Shigaraki asked, pulling his hands out of his pockets. 

“Everything that matters in this world, everything that I am and can be, it all trickles back to Adamantine.” Izuku replied, grabbing his staff. It was a comforting, heavy weight. 

“Very well then, Adamantine,” Shigaraki said, his eyes opening all the way. There was a joyous, psychotic gleam in crimson red eyes. Izuku matched his gaze with a determined, slightly feral one of his own. Shigaraki’s grin widened even further at Izuku’s challenge.

“Let’s play!”

0o0-0o0-0o0

Izuku’s battle with Shigaraki was intense.

From the start, Shigaraki had leaped at him, hands reaching for his throat. Izuku leapt away, and it became a dangerous game of cat-and-mouse across the rooftops. When they’d run out of rooftops, they’d descended, destroying buildings in their wake. At some point, his earpiece had fallen out of his ear, unable to stay in with the high-paced movement. Izuku didn’t have time to wonder if he had back-up on the way.

When Shigaraki landed hits, his hands trailed light burns up his arms. Shigaraki’s hands never fully caught Izuku, but the just-barely-there scratches burned bloody trails in his skin. But Izuku got some hits in, too. Izuku’s metal pole slammed into Shigaraki with extreme prejudice, and Shigaraki would hiss in fury. He hit a few pressure points, and managed to take out Shigaraki’s left arm. In retaliation, Shigaraki had disintegrated most of Izuku’s pole, leaving him with the rusted knife he always kept on him, just in case. 

The two continued to dance, Izuku with his knife, Shigaraki with his decaying hands. Izuku turned around the edge of the bank building, missing Shigaraki’s hand. The hand disintegrated a large chunk of the building, and the building started coming down on the two of them. A piece of falling concrete nearly hit Izuku, and he had to twist in an awkward semi-circle to avoid being hit. Shigaraki took his opportunity then, and lunged forward, right hand slapped into Izuku’s stomach.

Izuku felt blinding pain. 

Shigaraki’s hand melted through his hoodie and shirt and disintegrated, his hand destroying flesh and blood so fast that Izuku nearly collapsed at the pain. He clenched his hands, and he felt the handle of his knife. Izuku couldn’t think, all he wanted was to end the pain, to make it stop—

His hand lunged forward, and the pain stopped.

Izuku staggered back, breathing harshly as he tried to think past the pain. He forced his eyes open, because Shigaraki was still there, still dangerous, still—

Shigaraki was still. 

Shigaraki was laying on the ground, body laying motionless. Sticking out of the chest was Izuku’s knife, buried to the hilt. Izuku didn’t know enough to see whether he’d hit Shigaraki’s heart; he didn’t care. Everything hurt, but Shigaraki was down, and Izuku could now rest.

Izuku could see the tree in the middle of the park, the tree Akatori-san was buried underneath. He started walking, dragging his body over. Izuku could feel the blood leaking from his stomach and god, it hurt, he just wanted it to stop, to rest, to try and breathe and, and—

There was grass under Izuku’s feet, and that was good enough. He collapsed, lying on his back, staring at the sky. It was purple and orange and pink and red—the sun was starting to come up. He breathed out, and it was wet and painful, and his heart thumped painfully. 

Time passed as Izuku stared at the sky, barely breathing. Izuku wondered how long he had been lying there, wondered if back-up had arrived, wondered if his family was okay—

Arms wrapped around Izuku’s shoulders and he startled, opening his eyes. He blinked to try and clear his blurry vision. Knuckle came into view, frowning down at him. Izuku smiled up at him. 

“Knuckle,” Izuku called happily, his body loosening from its tense state. Because if Knuckle was there, everything would be okay. Knuckle’s face smoothed out into a smile, small but genuine, tugging the scar on his left cheek. 

“Hey kiddo,” Knuckle said softly, and Izuku hummed. 

“Where’s everyone?” Izuku asked.

“We’re right here, kid,” Soga said, and Izuku tilted his head just enough to see the other five surround him. Izuku felt his smile widen. He was happy, his family was here and now Izuku could truly relax, knowing that it was over. He didn’t think that Shigaraki was going to be getting back up any time soon.

“Stay with us, kiddo,” Knuckle said, and Izuku opened his eyes back up. He needed to keep them open, needed to be able to see his family one last time. 

“‘M kinda sad,” Izuku said, and Knuckle hummed.

“Why’s that?” Knuckle asked, still smiling.

“‘Cause ‘Raki’s dead, got ‘im in the chest,” Izuku replied, frowning slightly. “Didn’ wanna do it, didn’ wanna see no one die.”

“It happens sometimes, kiddo,” Knuckle replied, gently squeezing Izuku’s shoulders. Izuku relaxed and smiled. 

“‘M happy too, though,” Izuku said, “everyone I love is right here.” Izuku said. 

“That’s right, kid, we’re all here,” Rapt said, crouching down by Izuku’s feet, giving them a light pat. 

“Tha’s good,” Izuku said, “Don’t gotta chase anyone down.” They all laughed, though Izuku’s laugh was wheezing and wet. He loved their laughs, loved that he could make them happy. Izuku frowned, looking up at Knuckle.

“Y’know that, right?” Izuku asked, concerned. He didn’t want to go, not until he was sure they knew. Because Izuku knew he wasn’t long for this world. 

“Know what, kiddo?” Knuckle asked.

“Y’guys know tha’ I love you all,” Izuku asked, and he felt more than heard Knuckle’s breath hitch. But his face didn’t change.

“Of course I know, kiddo,” Knuckle said, smiling. Izuku looked at each of his family, one by one, meeting their gazes.

“You know it, Babey!” Crawler replied, a bright, beautiful grin making Izuku feel warm.

“Naturally, kid,” Soga replied, grinning his rough, cheerful grin. 

“Of course I know, kid,” Rapt said, shooting him some finger-guns. Izuku giggled at that.

“I very much know,” Moyuru said, smiling softly and kindly at him. 

Lastly, Izuku’s gaze turned to Pop, who nodded at him. “It’s only natural that I know of your love, it’s very clear to see.”

Izuku nodded, relaxing back into Knuckle’s arms. He looked at them shyly. 

“Love me too?” He asked softly. The grins he was met with were wider than before, and Izuku could feel the love and warmth of their gazes. 

“What kinda question is that, kid?” Soga asked, flicking Izuku in the nose gently. 

“‘Course we do, kid,” Raft said. “You’re family.”

“And family sticks together.” Moyuru finished. Pop nodded, gently grabbing his hand. Izuku beamed, looking back up at Knuckle, who’s gaze was softer than he had seen on the man before. 

“Of course I love you, kid,” Knuckle said, voice gruff and deep and warm. “We all love you, no matter what. ‘Cause that’s what a real family does.”

“A real family,” Izuku hummed, his heart warming his chest despite the rest of his body slowly becoming numb. Izuku was quiet for a few moments before looking up at Knuckle.

“Can I ask a favor?” Izuku asked, and Knuckle nodded, gently squeezing his shoulders.

“Anything, kiddo, whatever you want.” Knuckle said.

“Wanna sleep with flowers.” Izuku said. “Wan’ a quiet place, with flowers e’rywhere.” It was quiet for a moment, and for a second, Izuku thought he had asked for too much. But a second later, Pop squeezed his hand, gentle but firm. 

“I’ll find a wonderful, secluded place,” Pop said. “With flowers as far as the eye can see, and a nice big oak tree. How does that sound?”

“Th’ best,” Izuku replied happily tilting his head to look up to the sky. The sun had finally risen. He grinned up at Knuckle.

“Kep’ my promise t’ya, Knuckle,” Izuku said. “Made i’ t’my bir’day,”

The squad chuckles, but the birthday wishes the squad gives him are sincere and Izuku’s filled with a happy, gentle warmth. 

Izuku yawns, and his eyes begin to dim. He blinks, trying to wake himself up. Just a few more minutes. 

Knuckle laughs, a rumbling, deep sound that makes Izuk feel safe.

“Go to sleep, kiddo,” Knuckle says, the man’s arms securing Izuku closer to his chest. “I’ve got you, and the rest of us will be here, too.” 

“Promise?” Izuku asked, holding out his pinky. 

“Promise,” Knuckle agress, and his pinky curls around Izuku’s, sealing the deal.

Izuku hums, content, and his arm falls back to his lap. His head falls gently into Knuckle’s chest, and he closes his eyes. The sounds of his family are a warm, reassuring backdrop. 

Izuku takes a deep breath. The numb feeling creeps up further and further, though his chest is very, very warm.

Izuku’s last thought is that he made the world a better place for his family. And that’s enough.

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Anemones are short-lived and represent fragility. Hyssop represents sacrifice and cleanliness.