Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was dark out, and Izuku was out on a walk. He was in desperate need of a distraction, and long walks always calmed him down without fail.

Kicking at a few stray rocks on the sidewalk, he scowled to himself; another argument, another bruise to contend with. He’d have to make a quick trip to Recovery girl tomorrow before classes started. He knew Aizawa would give him the third degree if he saw. He couldn’t give him an excuse to call him out for his supposed recklessness again.

A dark, moving figure at the corner of his eye caught his attention, and Izuku tensed, preparing himself for a confrontation—he didn’t exactly live in the safest part of town. However, when the figure moved closer, Izuku was shocked to find he recognized him.

“Aizawa-sensei?” he exclaimed, holding a hand to his cheek. “W-what … uh … what are you doing here?”

“Here to pick you up,” Aizawa said, walking closer with his hands in his pocket. He was still in his hero gear, but his stance was entirely casual.

“Pick… pick me up?” Izuku asked, confusion coloring his voice.

“Yes. Now, come on, problem child, it’s late,” he said with a surprisingly gentle expression. Izuku stared at him, silently wondering if he had somehow managed to hit his head or was under the effect of a quirk. “Let’s get going.”

“Uh… I was just heading home,” he said. “Where…uh where do you want me to go?”

“Go on. Into the car you go,” he said, gesturing at a car parked on the curb.

“No, it’s okay, really, but thank you,” Izuku said, glancing at the car bewilderedly. “I really have to get going.” He didn’t want to offend Aizawa accidentally by rejecting him, but somehow, it didn’t feel quite right to go into his car this late in the night.

However, the choice was quickly taken out of his hands as Aizawa’s capture gear constricted around him. Instantly, he started thinking about what he could’ve done wrong to piss his teacher off. It had been a long time since the last time this had happened, but he didn’t think he had done anything recently to warrant it. “Wait! What are you doing?” he asked, trying to keep the panic out of his voice as he instinctively thrashed against the strong fabric.

“It’s okay, don’t struggle and you’ll be fine,” Aizawa said as he walked up to the car, his voice as calm as ever.

Uncertainly, Izuku forced himself to stay still and allowed Aizawa to move him. Gently, Aizawa unwrapped his gear and deposited Izuku into the shotgun seat. “Don’t go anywhere,” he warned, shutting the door and walking up to the driver’s side. Izuku belatedly wondered if he should be concerned. Aizawa was his homeroom teacher, so this probably wasn’t a kidnapping? Why would he want to kidnap him, anyway?

“Where are we going, sensei?” Izuku asked as Aizawa reentered the car and started the engine.

“Home,” he said simply, his eyes never straying from the road. He looked as stoic and aloof as usual, but Izuku thought he heard the slightest twinge of emotion in his voice.

“Um… this isn’t the way to my house though,” Izuku said nervously. “I can walk, it’s fine, really.” He was terrified of his dad’s reaction if he showed up home with a hero in tow.

“It’s fine, Izuku. Don’t worry about it." There was a hint of exasperation in Aizawa’s voice, and Izuku swallowed. Since when did Aizawa call him by his first name? Things weren’t adding up, and he wished Aizawa would just tell him what was going on.

Yet, Izuku trusted Aizawa with his life. He was both his teacher and a hero, how much more trustworthy could one get? Maybe he was just taking an alternate route to his house or just had to take a detour.

However, when Aizawa parked the car, Izuku’s speculations were proven dreadfully wrong. The apartment they were parked in was most definitely not his, nor was it anywhere close to it. He wasn’t even sure if he had been to this part of town before. It looked way nicer than what he was used to.

Izuku shakily unlocked the car door and staggered out, glancing around with slight alarm. “Where is this?” he asked, wincing at how high-pitched his voice sounded. “I really have to go home!”

“Didn’t I already tell you not to worry?” Aizawa asked, sighing. He gently grabbed Izuku by the elbow and started leading him away. “Put a little trust in me, won’t you?”

Fearful of possibly incurring Aizawa’s wrath, he let himself be dragged through the nicely decorated apartment lobby, and Aizawa walked briskly, only stopping to give the security guard at the front desk a brief nod. Izuku wondered again if he should be fighting back or asking the guard for help. This was the strangest day of his entire life, which really said something.

“We’re here,” Aizawa announced, stopping in front of door number 827. Fumbling for his keys, he unlocked it to reveal… a smiling Mic.

“Mic-sensei?” Izuku couldn’t stop the pure incredulity from entering his voice as he stared blankly at his English teacher. He didn’t think the day could get any odder.

“Izuku! Welcome home!” Mic said enthusiastically, as if there was nothing strange about his statement. He grinned at Aizawa before ruffling Izuku’s hair affectionately.

“Home? But this is…” He paused. Where were they, really? Had Aizawa brought him to his apartment? It didn’t seem like something his very private teacher would do for no good reason.

“Yes. Home,” Mic said.

“But I … I don’t live here,” Izuku managed to say through his growing headache. “Why did you bring me here?”

“We thought you’ve been looking upset lately and have been making frequent trips to Recovery Girl’s office, so we thought there might’ve been something wrong at home.” Yamada began, his eye flicking toward the no doubt ugly bruise on Izuku’s face. “Then, Shouta and I saw your … father lay his hand on you, and we knew we had to do something.”

“You saw?” Izuku exclaimed, his face flushing with embarrassment. “But how? When? I thought…”

“Yeap,” Yamada nodded, suddenly turning serious. “That’s why we brought you here, so you can have a proper family!” Izuku glanced at Aizawa helplessly, half expecting him to put a stop to this strange charade at any time, yet he only remained still and stoic, nodding along at Yamada’s words.

“But I already have a dad!”

“Enough of that, for now,” Aizawa said, lightly pushing Izuku along towards the dining room all the while completely ignoring his statement. “Let’s eat dinner first. You must be starving.”

Still reeling in absolute confusion, Izuku doesn’t resist. Nor does he resist when Mic shoveled mountains of rice and meat on his plate.

“You’ve been training so hard at school, you need all the nutrition you can get,” Mic said smilingly, patting Izuku’s head in an almost patronizing manner.

His cheeks burning with mortification at this treatment from his teacher, Izuku busied himself with putting food in his mouth so that he wouldn’t have to think too much about the strangeness of this entire situation. If his classmates were to see him now…

“Your father and I have been talking, and we think you’re a little too skinny,” he continued. “So, we’re thinking of getting you on a special diet.”

Izuku stopped, a pit forming in his stomach. Father? Was this what this was about? Had they somehow been in contact with his dad this whole time? Though, he wasn’t sure why his dad cared about his food intake of all things.

“Indeed,” Aizawa agreed, nodding. “I’m not sure what sort of junk you’ve been eating at home, but here, we’ll only be having healthy foods.”

Izuku’s head shot up. “Huh?” he said elegantly. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Aizawa scolded lightly with a small frown. “It’s impolite.”

Swallowing, Izuku muttered a quick apology. “But…what did you mean by…father?”

“You’re our son, Izuku. We just want the best for you,” Mic said softly. “And that includes making sure you have the energy and strength to go through your hero training.”

“I expect nothing but the best from you,” Aizawa added, his stern teacher voice making an appearance.

Unsure of how to respond, Izuku returned to his food with a stiff nod. He refused to acknowledge the strange warmth he felt at Mic’s words, nor the soft yearning that was slowly building up within him. No, it would be easier to just go along with them until things returned to normal. He knew the normal Aizawa wouldn’t ever refer to Izuku as a son—no matter how Izuku felt about him.

The rest of the meal went by without a hitch, and if it weren’t for the sheer bizarreness of it all, he’d have enjoyed the food.

“Now, it’s late. Let’s get you to bed, yeah? We’ll handle the dishes,” Mic said, clapping his hands together. “You’re going to looove the room we’ve set up for you.”

“Room?” Izuku was already worn out from the strangely familial dinner they had; he wasn’t sure if he could take any more surprises.

Aizawa nodded. “Of course. This is your home, after all.”

Izuku only shook his head, forcing himself not to overthink the statement, and followed the two as they led him through the hallway.

They stopped in front of a simple wooden door with a small plaque on a hanger. Izuku stared, his mouth dropping comically as he read the kanji written on it: Izuku. What was his name doing here in Aizawa’s guest bedroom door?

Still grinning like a child, Hizashi excitedly opened the door.

“Here we are,” he said, throwing his hands out as he gestured wildly around. “It’s nice, right? Your father and I worked very hard on it!”

Izuku looked around, stunned at how well decorated the room was. Everything was exactly to his tastes as if he had been the one to decorate it himself. There were even limited addition’s All Might posters hung on the walls—where had they gotten it from? Even the closet in the corner was filled to the brim with clothes, clothes that didn’t look like his. It was a little disconcerting how much they knew about his preferences if he was being honest with himself.

Just how long had they been planning this? He wasn’t sure when they had figured out what was going on with his dad at home, but Aizawa hadn’t treated him any different at school. Izuku frowned, trying to piece things together and make sense of it all.

Almost in a trance, he ran his finger along the light green wall — one without any holes and cracks like his bedroom at home — marveling at how nice everything looked. For a second, he imagined himself calling this place home, with Mic and Aizawa as his … parents. It was a strange thought, but he was surprisingly unopposed to it.

“Well, do you like it?” Aizawa asked, jarring him out of his musings. “We can make changes if you want.”

“Um … no, it’s fine, great even,” Izuku stammered. “But I really can’t s-stay here… My dad is probably waiting for me at home.” He suddenly felt bad. They had clearly put effort into this, but he couldn’t stay. He just couldn’t.

“No need to worry. We’ll … deal with him,” Mic said, his sunny smile twisting into something more chilling. “You just have to worry about resting. Shouta told me your class is doing more team battles tomorrow, and that’s sure to be exhausting.”

Aizawa nodded, his expression as serious as ever. They really weren’t joking around. “Even though you’re my son, don’t expect any preferential treatment at school,” he said. “Now, lie down. You’ve had a long day.”

Not seeing any other options, Izuku obeyed, robotically lying down on the bed in the corner of the room. It was incredibly soft and comfortable, but he barely had the mental capacity to recognize it as he anxiously watched his two teachers hover over him.

“Good night, Izuku,” Aizawa said, tugging the duvet over Izuku in an awkward yet tender gesture. “We’ll wake you up for school tomorrow morning.”

“G-good night.” Izuku squeaked, too drained to feel embarrassed at being tucked in.

The soft smile on Mic’s face as he looked at Izuku stirred up old memories, and he swallowed hard, trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of his throat tightening.

“Sleep tight, kiddo,” Mic murmured, running his hand through Izuku’s unruly hair. “I love you.”

Then they were gone, leaving Izuku alone and extremely aware of their missing presence and warmth. The dark solitude had never felt so potent.

Tomorrow, he was going to make it even more clear to them that he’d have to return home, lest he pisses his dad off more. But for the moment, he let himself pretend. Pretend that he too, could have a loving family.

He wished he’d never have to wake up.

Chapter Text

When Izuku woke up the next day, he couldn’t recognize the ceiling. And when he sat up, he couldn’t recognize the rest of the room either.

Memories of last night came flooding back in an instant, and he immediately felt the blood rush to his face.

So embarrassing! He wasn’t sure if he could ever face his two teachers ever again. He buried his face in his hands; maybe if he escaped through the window, he wouldn’t have to have the uncomfortable conversation that was sure to come. A peek out the window reminded him that they were on the eighth floor, however. He gulped, slowly edging away from it. Perhaps not.

A soft knock on the door roused him from his thoughts.

“Izuku! Breakfast’s ready!” The loud voice could only belong to Mic. It was strange to hear him say something so domestic considering how he had been listening to his radio shows as a kid. And now, he was Izuku’s… He wasn’t sure if he wanted to think about it.

“C-coming,” he called back, sliding off the bed and stretching. He was surprisingly well rested, given the circumstances. He blamed the ridiculously comfortable bed. Rummaging through the wardrobe, he was disturbed to find all the clothes inside to be exactly his size. In fact, they fit him better than the clothes he did have. Trying his best to ignore the discovery, he pulled on the uniform that was laid out and warily walked out of the bedroom, mentally preparing himself.

His two teachers were already sitting down at the dining table, full plates of food sitting in front of them. Aizawa was sipping on his coffee mug as he read today’s newspaper as the TV played in the back. Izuku spied the headline MAN CHARGED WITH KIDNAPPING AFTER “SUSPICIOUS INCIDENT” IN TOKYO METRO STATION before he put it away.

It was… an oddly domestic sight. One Izuku couldn’t quite reconcile with their pro-hero personas.

“Good morning Izuku!” Mic's cheery voice greeted as he warily approached. “How’d you sleep?”

“Good, thank you,” Izuku responded cautiously, his gaze flickering between the two to check for any hint of the strangeness he had seen last night.

“Come, sit down! I got you some katsudon. It’s your favorite, right?”

He did, in fact, like katsudon, but never for breakfast. He stared at the full bowl of katudon in front of the empty seat in mild confusion. “Um… yeah.” How did they even know that it was his favorite?

“What are you waiting for? Eat before the food gets cold,” Aizawa said, raising an eyebrow at Izuku’s clear reluctance. “Or would you rather go into All might’s class hungry? I won’t be happy if you don’t give it your all today.”

Izuku sat, slightly relieved that his teacher seemed to be reverting to his usual strict self instead of … whatever he was last night. Maybe he had just been too tired and misconstrued the entire situation. Aizawa had probably just been trying to be hospitable, and he had overthought everything, like usual. Sure, the bedroom they had prepared for him was a little strange, but there was a reasonable explanation for it, surely. He should just be grateful for their kindness.

“Thanks for the meal,” he said, digging in without a second thought. Katsudon was katsudon, even if it was seven in the morning.

“So, Shouta and I’ve been talking, and we thought we might have come out a little too strong last night. We hope we didn’t startle you! It wasn’t our intention.”

“Ah, it’s okay! I wasn’t too bothered.” So he had been overthinking things. He instantly felt relieved, but there was a small yet undeniable sting of disappointment. He frowned, refocusing on his food.

“I’m glad you understand,” Mic continued, taking a sip out of Aizawa’s coffee mug and making a face. “Especially since we’ve officially adopted you! Your dad uh…willingly signed over his parental rights to us earlier. Isn’t that great?”

He immediately choked on the bite of rice he had just started eating, sending him into bouts of loud coughs. “Ack!” His heart began to pound wildly, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of the pain or Mic’s words.

“Izuku! Are you okay? ARE YOU CHOKING?” Mic’s voice was filled with panic and made it to Izuku’s side in an instant, a gentle hand placed on his back. “Oh my god! Shouta! What do we do?”

“I’m…okay,” he said hoarsely as he hacked up the lodged rice.

“Do you need me to do the Heimlich?”

“No!” Izuku took a sip of milk, relishing the soothing coolness of it as it slid down his scratchy throat.

“Are you sure? That sounded bad!” Next to him, Aizawa’s eyes were filled with the same concern, and he had half risen from his seat. For just a moment, Izuku could spot a bare trace of emotion on his usually stoic face.

“Yes! Thanks for the concern though,” he said, chugging the rest of the milk until his throat didn’t feel as terrible. They both looked incredibly relieved that Izuku wasn’t coughing anymore, and Mic slowly walked back to his seat.

“Eat slowly and chew through your food before swallowing,” Aizawa chided as if that was the problem. “Choking on food is more dangerous than most people think.”

“I know! That’s not why…” He frantically gestured with his chopsticks in thin air, more frustration welling up in him than it ever did in a long time. How could they treat adoption so flippantly?

Aizawa sighed. “And don’t wave your chopsticks around at the dining table, please,” he said, lightly shaking his head. “I see we still have a few things to teach you.”

“It’s his home. Izuku can wave his chopsticks around if he wants,” Mic said.

“No, I’m not raising our son like some kind of barnyard animal. Just because you have bad table manners doesn’t mean it’s okay.”

Izuku watched his two teachers bicker with growing incredulity. How could they talk about something so mundane after dropping a bombshell on him?

Mic rolled his eyes. “Don’t listen to him, Izuku. You don’t have to worry about stuffy rules here in this house. We want you to be as comfortable as possible.”

“There’s a difference between comfort and bad manners.”

“Um… can we please stop talking about the chopsticks?” Izuku interjected weakly. “About the uh… adoption thing. You were just joking, right?”

“No, of course not. We wouldn’t joke about something so serious! As of today, you are officially our son!” Mic said, beaming widely. “We got the papers and everything if you want to take a look. Us being heroes really sped up the process.”

“What? How? That’s impossible!” Izuku couldn’t stop his voice from rising. Even if they were heroes, wouldn’t that be a little too fast? And no one had checked with Izuku about it either. There was just no way.

“Keep eating. It takes twenty minutes to get to U.A. from here, and I refuse to let you eat in my car,” Aizawa said, gesturing to Izuku’s bowl.

“But…!”

“Stop talking and eat. We’ll explain things. Don’t make us late.”

Defeated, Izuku continued to eat, slower this time, lest Aizawa started his tirade again. The pure panic radiating through his entire being made the food taste blander than usual.

“To answer your question… well… didn’t we already explain why last night? We weren’t happy with how your dad is treating you, so we’re taking you in. We love you, and we want the best for you. And that includes removing you from a dangerous environment.”

Izuku listened raptly, slowly digesting his words. With their serious expressions, he doesn’t think they were lying. He had always dreamt about something like this happening when he was a kid but stopped when it became increasingly clear it wasn’t ever going to happen. But now that it was, he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. He had always considered Aizawa as some sort of parental figure for the class, but as his actual dad? That was something else entirely.

“So just take it easy. You’re still a kid. You don’t have to worry about anything except for schoolwork and being the best hero that you can be. Shouta and I will handle things for you. We’ll give you the childhood you never got to have.” Mic was looking at Izuku with soft green eyes, and Izuku didn’t doubt his sincerity.

Izuku glanced over at Aizawa, half expecting him to refute Mic’s words, but he only shifted uncomfortably in his seat and maintained his silence. He must be completely on board with everything Mic had told him just now, as unbelievable as that seemed.

Finishing his last bite, he put down his chopsticks. He had intended on explaining himself at breakfast, but all he managed to do was raise more questions and ambiguity. He clenched his fists, readying himself to tell them that this was all a mistake and that he couldn’t stay here. But a small voice in the back of his mind told him that this was for the best. If they had actually managed to officially get custody from his dad, however unlikely that was in the incredibly brief time frame, then what would be the problem?

He breathed in, about to spew out the entire speech he had concocted. "I--”

“Oh good, you’re done! Let’s get going then! We gotta hurry though, before traffic gets bad. It’d be a shame for the homeroom teacher and the star pupil to be late to class!”

Izuku deflated. He’ll tell them later. He should enjoy the domestic bliss while he could. “Okay. But I don’t have my backpack.”

“We got you covered on that. It’s right there.” Mic pointed. “Shouta swapped in the books you need for today, so you should be good.”

Sure enough, his backpack was sitting at the coffee table. Izuku frowned. “Uh…” He hadn’t brought it here with him. It should be in the corner of his bedroom, next to his desk, where he always leaves it.

“Don’t think too hard on it,” Aizawa advised, grabbing the car keys from the tin next to the front door.

Frown intact, Izuku reluctantly swung his backpack over his back, alarmed to find it heavier than he remembered.

Before he knew it, he had been ushered to the backseat of the car once more.

He watched the scenery of the city pass him by, silently pondering how exactly things led to this. Adoption! Never in a million years could he have seen this cooling. He shook his head. It’s best not to think too deeply into it, as Aizawa had put it. He’ll worry about it later. After school ended.

“Deku!” Uraraka greeted as Izuku walked into the classroom with Aizawa not far behind him. “You came in with Aizawa-sensei today. What a coincidence.”

Izuku chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck as he threw himself at his desk. “Haha yeah… Coincidence.”

She nodded, taking his word at face value. “So did you finish the math homework that’s due tomorrow? I’m confused about question thirty-four. I know you’re supposed to use the table method, but my answer’s not matching up with my calculator. Could I see your work, please? I won’t copy, I promise.”

“I can show you mine,” Iida interjected, pulling out his notebook. “You just have to…”

Izuku let the banal conversation wash over him, taking away some of his stress. He almost felt normal again.

Just like Mic as said last night, they had team battles. He was half tempted to blurt everything to All Might and beg him to talk to Aizawa and Mic on his behalf, but then he’d have to tell him about the situation with his dad. Izuku wouldn’t even be surprised if All Might took their side. Or worse, try to copy them.

The rest of the school day went by without incident. He kept expecting Aizawa or Mic to act strange towards him, but they never did, and Aizawa went back to calling him by his last name. The only strange occurrence was Aizawa interrupting his lunch just to make sure he finished his vegetables. Uraraka and Tenya stared with wide eyes and barely concealed shock but didn’t remark on it, to Izuku’s immense relief and embarrassment.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. Izuku immediately shot up from his seat—he had already finished packing up his stuff—ready to go back to his real house before Aizawa and Mic forced him into their car again.

Home… It would certainly be disappointing to go back to his dad, but he knew he couldn’t stay with Aizawa and Mic, no matter how absurdly welcoming they have been to him. It would only be a matter of time before they got sick of him and want him gone. He’d hate to ruin his relationship with them as a student when that happened.

He only managed to take a single step out of the classroom before a heavy hand clamped down on his shoulder. It was gentle, yet with enough pressure to stop him dead in his tracks.

“Izuku. Where are you going? The parking lot is the other way.”

Izuku spun around, coming face to face with Aizawa who was wearing a bemused expression. “Ah, I was just… I…um…”

“Huh? Well, come on, Hizashi is waiting. You got everything you need right?”

And that was how he ended up in Aizawa’s car again. He didn't even bother protesting this time.

“So All Might showed me the footage of your class's training session,” Mic began once they got home. “You were great Izuku!”

“Thank you!” Izuku said, grinning bashfully as he put down his backpack. “But I think Tokoyami-kun was the real MVP. Without him, my team wouldn’t have won.”

“You were all equally great! The future of heroics is looking bright!” Mic said, “Anything to add Shouta?” He shot a meaningful stare at Aizawa, who had already managed to make himself a cup of coffee.

“I’m … proud of you. Your performance today in heroics was … more than tolerable,” Aizawa said, his entire face twisting in discomfort.

“See, that wasn’t so bad, Shouta!” Mic said, clapping Aizawa on his back. “For what it’s worth, I’m EXTREMELY proud of you too! Your form was absolute perfection! I couldn’t have done much better myself, even!”

“You’re going to give him an ego,” Aizawa grumbled.

Mic only laughed. “Would that be so bad?” He ruffled Izuku’s hair affectionately. “Our boy’s too humble! He could do with a bit more ego!”

To Izuku’s dismay, his tear ducts finally activated. No one had ever told him they were proud of him before. Not his dad, nor any of his past teachers. And even if Aizawa looked constipated the entire time he said it, it touched him.

“Izuku! What’s wrong?” Mic’s loud voice was filled with panic, and he crouched down in front of Izuku, placing his hands on his shoulder. “Don’t cry!”

“No, it’s nothing,” he said, hastily wiping his tears with his sleeve. More came to replace it though, faster than he could get rid of them. “I just…I’m just happy.”

“Aw, don’t scare us like that!” Mic pulled Izuku in a tight hug.

“Sorry,” Izuku muttered, leaning into the hug instinctively. It was warm and comforting.

Aizawa patted Izuku’s head. “It’s okay. You can cry if you want.”

Once Izuku pulled away, he felt his cheeks color with mortification. He had just cried in front of his teachers, just because they told him they were proud of him.

Aizawa held out a box of tissues to Izuku, who took it gratefully.

Maybe staying here for another night wouldn’t be so bad. He could go home tomorrow. Or the day after that. Hopefully, his dad wouldn’t mind too much.