Archive of Our Own

Toshinori never meant to fall from grace, to be thrown from the heavens like human rubbish into landfill. He will admit, it hurt to know he was so disposable, that he could be tossed so carelessly and no one would think to miss him. Angels weren't meant for the earth, nor what lay below, but upon banishment he had two options, to drop far below into the realm of Hatred and Despair, of Lillith and Lucifer who… ruled? Governed?

Okay, so Toshinori really didn't know a lot about Hell. It's not his fault, there were so many contradicting stories in Heaven! It was hard to keep track of fact and fiction when both were thrown around so carelessly. But anyway, he was privileged enough to not know exactly what Hell looked like, because he chose the second option! Earth!

The second — and better, if you asked Toshinori — option was to visit Earth and serve as a guardian angel for the rest of their lives. Toshinori was more than okay with this, it's actually why he was banished in the first place. He'd seen a little human girl get lost on a busy street and, well, who was he to leave someone in need of help without the aid they so desperately needed? He was an angel, a messenger of God. What kind of angel left a child in such a state?

Not him, that's who.

The Council disagreed though, cast him down to Earth where he was now, wandering the home of the boy he'd quickly taken under his wing, waiting for him to get home.

Izuku was a curious child, always wanting to see and learn, to explore what he didn't yet know but so desperately wanted to. It was exciting to see that much joy in his child — yes 'his' child. They were his to protect, after all, and Inko… his mother was already breaking her back to look after the rambunctious little lad. A bit of help wouldn't go astray. She took care of the bills and he took time to play games with him, not that she didn't, but seeing as Toshinori's whole purpose was to guard the child, it made sense that he had more time to spend with Izuku — something he honestly hadn't been expecting the first day they met.

God, it was so long ago now, going on four years…

New to Earth, there were a lot of sounds that confused Toshinori, the growl of 'cars' and the seemingly endless expletives that speeded from their mouths — the blonde woman he ran into had a foul mouth. It was a wonder God themselves hadn't smited her yet. Toshinori was still waiting for the black storm clouds to roll in and for lightning to strike down.

Any minute now…

It never came though, despite how the rain was pouring down in thick sheets, how grey clouds filled the sky and blocked the sun's rays from touching his face. The day was miserable, even Toshinori could tell that much. It made him want to sleep, to cover himself in a large fluffy duvet, but he was here instead, surrounded by people in umbrellas and rain jackets as they rushed along the path.

They moved right through him, as though he weren't there. He won't lie — couldn't, actually, not even if he wanted to — it hurt to realise he couldn't be seen by anyone. Well… almost anyone, he did still have his Charge to find after all, the one he would guard until they needed him no longer. In theory, that would be simple, you'd think he just appeared in front of them when he was cast out. That would be too easy though, so instead Toshinori was walking the streets, questioning if he was even in the right city, the right country– the right continent even.

His body passed through another person, this one dressed to the nines and angrily shouting into their phone, cursing freely and loudly on the heavily populated road. Toshinori barely withheld the urge to stop them, to cover their mouth before God decided to reap another soul for Satan to sew into the fields far below them. But they passed through him, and he was reminded, once again, of how truly powerless he now was, how he could no longer intervene where he saw help was needed.

It irked him that he could no longer help everyone, anyone he stumbled across who needed help would simply have to suffer, and Toshinori could only watch. But at least he had a reason to not do anything, because he couldn't do anything. The others, however… well, there were people in this world deserving of more than an eternity under Satan's rule. These people — Toshinori was tempted to just call them the monsters that they were… — would stumble across this injustice, abuse or abduction, whatever it may be, and just ignore it. They would block it from their minds and move past it like it wasn't even there.

He never understood how they could do such a thing, how they could push their concern to the side and get along with their own lives. How had humans been so caught up in themselves that they lost sight of the unity of their species? Had they truly forgotten that in the natural world it was 'us versus them' and not 'us versus us'?

Toshinori couldn't fathom it, the questions like arms pulling his brain in five different directions. The noise around him didn't help either, the loud noise of cars and shouts, various planes passing overhead from time to time. There was the rain too, the rain that hit the ground so hard Toshinori would be worried about excessive erosion if he didn't know better. As it was though, he kept the threat of flooding in the back of his mind, not that he'd be able to do anything about it.

Moving again — when had he stopped? — he phased through a long line of people, shivering at the lack of sensation as they walked through his new invisible, intangible form. Honestly, he was getting a little sick of it all, the proximity making him want to close his wings tight against his body. They were barely surviving as it was without the gentle caress of the wind–

His gut tugged harshly, a bright flare of pain going off in his stomach, like a star gone supernova, ripping the lining of his stomach clean off.

And then, almost lost amongst the heavy footfalls of the people, the growl of cars as they went flying by and the incoherent shouts of rage and emotions Toshinori couldn't even begin to place… there was a small, broken cry. Hidden by the noise of the city, was the sound of what was unmistakably a child, one calling out for help.

Toshinori took only a single, weighted second to pause and try to locate the child before shooting himself into the air, wings expanding and catching on air, lifting him above the crowds and straight for what he hoped was the source of the sound.

Everything blurred below him, the seconds passing like hours and yet feeling all too quick at the same time. Reaching the child was his top priority, and every second he spent away from them was like Hellfire in his stomach, eating away at the lining without remorse. But the seconds passed too quickly, all the time he thought he had to find the child, slipping through his fingers like fine sand, as though he were stuck in an hourglass, scrambling to plug the hole before the sands slipped down and far out of his reach.

He tensed the muscles in his back, his wings flapping furiously behind him, aiding him with sharp turns and unrivalled speed. But no matter where he look, there was no chi–

Another cry pierced the air, sharp as sunlight that speared the clouds bringing light to all those below them. Toshinori flinched at the sound, shouting forward faster than before, his wings working overtime to propel himself through the air.

The buildings shot by him, nothing more than vague impressions he didn't care to look over. All that mattered was this child, the one asking– pleading for help, for his help. Toshinori couldn't fail this child, his stomach cramped painfully at the thought, like someone had taken a hot knife to his insides.

His eyes were glued to the crowds below him, scanning over the people he could see for any sign of the child. Umbrellas and thick sheets of rain hid some from his gaze, something he had no choice but to set aside his anger over. Rage would do nothing but harm the situation at hand, especially over something so futile.

He needed to find the child, the source of the cries that seemed almost to echo through the street, to bounce off the front of shops, ricocheting between the opposite sides of the street and striking his ears like an unpracticed hand to a newly tuned harp. Nothing but dissonance and agonising cries reached his ears, the child a siren in a sea of their own making, their melancholic trills filled with a sorrow someone so young couldn't yet know. But everywhere he looked, there was a distinct lack of children, only adults rushing to and fro, people hiding beneath the awnings of shops to escape the torrential downpour.

Why was the child even out in such terrible weather in the first place? Would they not catch sickness as easily as his wings did the air? Were their parents that irresponsible to let them out in the weather, not even thinking of the consequences? Did the parents not care? Did they even have par–

Another cry, just as hurt and broken, but closer. He was getting closer.

Toshinori raced through streets, worryingly flitting above people's heads and trying to peek under umbrellas and awnings to find the child. He flew low enough that people's heads were constantly phasing through him, sending the phantom sensation of goosebumps running through his body. But still, even from the lower vantage point he couldn't see the child.

Unfamiliar streets passed by, signs he had never seen blurring together, not that he would recognise them if he stopped anyway. He hadn't been in this part of the town before, had never seen the bright lights and flashing signs of 'Sale!' and gaudy posters of clothing and food and–

A wail cut through the air, clear as the sheets of glass that hung in every shop, and suddenly Toshinori was turning, his body moving without his orders and shooting him down a sidestreet and away from the manic calls of the crowds.

His wings tightened on their own, pulling in closer to him as the street began to narrow, Toshinori nothing more than a spectator to what his body was doing for him. The walls tightened further, however, his wings brushing against the exposed bricks leaving him to hiss and fall from the altitude he'd gained.

It was only a moment after that his feet touched the ground, and he was running. For a brief second, he didn't even know why, but the knife in his stomach twisted, as if to remind him. Because as it twisted, Toshinori's head turned, snapped to the side with a speed so great he'd nearly be afraid he'd been possessed. But his possible possession lost all its importance when he saw what awaited him in the alley.

Halfway down, sitting against one of the brick walls, was a child. Not only was this a child, alone in a dark alley, for no apparent reason, but they were curled up into a ball, crying. Their sobs echoed throughout the narrow space, bouncing off every available inch of the walls and releasing into the open air. How the crowd just a few metres away couldn't hear this child's sobs made no sense, none whatsoever, which could only mean… they were ignoring them.

Toshinori wanted to race back to the mainstream and scream his heart out at the injustice of it all to make people see how truly cruel they had become, but he recognised that it wasn't productive, and that most importantly, the child would still be — and still is — crying.

He walked carefully down the alley, ignoring the part of him that told him to run, to sprint down and reach the child before anything else could happen, before it could get worse. There was another part of him that told him to leave, to go before he came across just another situation he couldn't help, but he didn't listen to that either.

This child felt different, the air between them pleasantly charged, as though Toshinori were tangible again, visible to everyone and unable to phase. If he wasn't so concerned about the culd, curiosity certainly would have forced him forward.

He stared at the child as he walked, for any indication of what had happened to them, of why they were sobbing so heavily. There was nothing to be seen, however, no weapons or blood, no ominous figures or bullies that tried to smack the child senseless. All Toshinori could see was their dull green hair, shiny and wet with rain, their face also wet, although from tears or the rain Toshinori didn't know.

They looked so small against the building, trying futilely to hide themself behind a large, industrial sized bin. Toshinori just wanted to swaddle them in blankets, to harness the clouds and make from them only the softest of pillows for the child to rest its head.

He kept moving, placing his feet carefully on the ground, keeping his wings close to his body so as not to scare the little child away. Why he was being so cautious, he didn't know, not when the child couldn't see him, couldn't hear or feel him. Toshinori was nothing more than a fly on the wall, a gust of wind in the maelstrom of weather that captured the town in its small little bubble.

Only a few metres away now, and Toshinori could hear more clearly the sobs the child let out, the way their chest rattled with each heave, gasping for breath in the small reprieve they had between the sobs that wracked their body.

And that? That was what made Toshinori throw everything to the wind. Any sense of caution he previously held was abandoned and left to die in the quickly puddling ground of the alley.

He rushed forward, falling to his knees and through his arms around the child, trying to embrace them, to quell the misery that seemed to cling to their skin like glue, that seeped from their eyes like the fresh tears that cascaded down their face.

Toshinori was so preoccupied hoping he somehow helped, wishing he could help, that he didn't notice the child had stopped crying, that they'd quietened and leaned into his touch. He was so busy thinking of all the ways he could no longer help, wanting to be tangible again to help this poor child, that he did not realise the feeling of warm flesh against his own.

But soon the quiet got to him, the muted noise of the crowded streets so far away now, barely a whisper in the silence between the buildings. The alley was quiet, too quiet.

It was only upon realising this that Toshinori recognised the feeling of flesh against his skin, of soft cloth and the sensation of warmth only another person could bring. But that didn't make any sense. There were no other angels in the alley, none would ever stoop so low, let alone help him and directly defy God in doing so.

The thing pressed against him, more forceful this time, pushing Toshinori back until his legs gave out and he fell flat on his ass in one of the many puddles along the road. He didn't have time, however, to mourn the dry cloth of his robes — and when had they become so wet? How had they gotten so wet? Why only now, when earlier he was racing through the rain filled sky? — as when he looked up to see what had pushed him, he met the eyes of a child, the very child he had been trying to help.

He was so caught up in helping the child… that he completely forgot about them. But even still… how were they looking at him? He was invisible to all, intangible and–

Oh

This child… they were the one he was assigned to protect, the child he must guard if he had any hope of entering the Lord's good graces again. Toshinori blinked at the realisation, staring off confused as his mind tried to process the information.

Of course, the Lord was not so kind as to give him time to think about it.

"M– Mister?"

Toshinori's head snapped back to face the child, their voice frail and weak like a newborn deer, shaking and still wet with their tears.

"Yes– um," Toshinori's words jumbled themselves as they left his mouth, his tongue feeling just a little too big, clumsy and large, hard to pronounce his thoughts – if his thoughts were not an incoherent mess of "child" and "upset", that is.

"What is it, child?" he questioned, sticking a large — and hopefully comforting — smile on his face to help the situation.

It did not work.

The boy was crying again.

"Hey," Toshinori brought his hands up in front of him, a universal sign for 'I'm not here to hurt you' if there ever was one. "don't cry. You're okay."

The small child said nothing, just stared at him as tears began to roll down their face again. They weren't outright sobbing yet, but they were already starting to audibly cry out. Toshinori thought he might've heard words between their wails but he really wasn't sure.

Why did his Charge have to be a child? A crying one at that? He wasn't good with tears, not children's tears anyway. Children were so fussy about their comfort, even the slightest variation from what they want would send them spiralling even harder than before. And yet Toshinori still tried to help them, still wanted to help them as much as it was his job now.

"You're gonna be okay, can you try and calm down for me?" Toshinori asked. It was his best bet right now, and it had worked in the past… once.

The child's cries seemed to ebb as they stared at him, slowly decreasing in their volume and intensity, but not going away entirely. No, the child was still hiccuping away as sobs wracked their body and stole breath from their throat, and Toshinori was near powerless to stop it.

He just wanted to swaddle the child in a hug, cover them tmin a fuzzy blanket and rock them, tell them everything would be okay. With this child, however, he couldn't do that, because the second he made to move forward, the child flattened themselves against the wall behind them, a fear in their eyes no child should even be aware of. So he was left with words, something he was infamously bad with.

Sighing tiredly — with a nervousness he could barely contain, wanting more than anything to calm the child, not to scare them — he spoke to them again, "What's– Why don't you tell me your name?"

The child's cries stuttered in their chest, the alley now silent once again, only the wet sound of sniffles reaching Toshinori's ears. They turned to him, looking like a drowned rat in the rain that still refused to let up. And how had he not properly taken that into account? How this child was soaked to the bone, and he was letting them stand in the rain for minutes longer than they should have. Toshinori just sat there in the rain when he could have been properly calming the child and ushering them inside somewhere.

Their eyes were wide, glossy with fresh tears that clung to their eyelashes, waiting to roll down their face like the rest of their siblings. However, it was not their tears that caught Toshinori's attention, but the slightest glint of trust in their eyes. Past the thick brambles of fear and the green leaves of sorrow, was a small flowering blossom, a delicate thing not to be taken advantage of. Toshinori had no intention of letting it die.

"I can't talk to you properly if I don't know your name," he smiled, softer this time, more genuine.

The child seemed to react positively to it this time, or, less terribly at least. Their tears had almost dried by now, simply sitting in his eyes, the last few ready to spill over at any second.

There was a pause, more time for Toshinori to listen to the distant sounds of the city, but then, suddenly, like a clap of thunder right beside his head, the child spoke.

"... Izuku." They looked away from him as they said it, down to the floor, twisting their feet as they spoke.

Toshinori smiled wider, even if the progress was minimal.

"That's a nice name, Izuku," he said, looking up at the child who caught his gaze with his own for all but a second before looking away nervously. "You can call me Toshinori, if you'd like."

Izuku didn't look back at him, but they did smile, just slightly. The frown that had been fixed to their face since Toshinori first saw him was gone, and had it not been for the change, he would have assumed it was fixed upon their face like those on marble statues from days long past.

That was fine, Toshinori was just glad they were smiling, if only fervently. Besides, he had a few tricks to garner some attention.

His wings ruffle behind him, the water droplet that collected on them flying off the smooth surface of his feathers, still as healthy as they were when he left the Heavens. That was just about the only good thing about being a Guardian, being intangible, unable to be harmed by things he used to loathe.

He moved his attention back to Izuku, the other reason being a Guardian really wasn't so bad. Helping people had always been what Toshinori did best, whether or not they asked for his help didn't really matter because he was always there, ready to step in. That's all he wanted in life, to be useful, to help those that needed it, and this child needed a Guardian… Toshinori would have a lot to do in their shared future. But he couldn't focus on that now, calming the child in the future wouldn't matter if he couldn't calm them now.

He focused back on the human in front of him, nearly leaping out of the puddle as he realised they were staring at him, or perhaps more accurately, at his wings. Toshinori couldn't blame Izuku, well aware of their beauty. He took a little selfish pride in the awe of the child's eyes, their slack jaw at the appendages on his back. It was known, in the Heavens, that Toshinori had some of the best wings in all the realm, always pristine and so bright they might blind you if you weren't careful. A blend of gold and white, random but beautiful in their growth.

Izuku brought their hand up in front of them, stretching it out as if to touch his wings. Toshinori didn't mind, he thought it might be for the best actually, with how the child had calmed significantly upon seeing them. Only a few stray sniffles could be heard in the alley, the sobbing that had led Toshinori to them nothing more than a memory now. He relaxed, his wings drooping just slightly, into a more comfortable position for both him and the child.

Their hand nearly touched his plumage now, the feathers that lined the inside of his wings seeming to reach out to the child, looking almost fully visible now. Toshinori was happy, he'd actually calmed the child, something he really hadn't been sure he'd be able to do.

But then the hand was gone, pulled back towards the child before Toshinori could tell him it was alright.

He turned to face them, anxious of how he was still sitting in a puddle of rainwater, of how the child was still out in the horrible weather, sickness surely waiting just around the corner for them.

"Mr. Toshinori?" Izuku's voice came again, stronger now than it was, but still just as innocent as the deer he had compared them to. Although maybe… with their wide eyes and the way their nose twitched beneath the rain… they looked far more like a rabbit, a soft little bunny only just learning to hop.

"Yes child?" he had to keep himself from laughing at the title they had given him, something that, as their Guardian, was wholly unnecessary.

"Is, uh," they stumbled over their words fiddling with their hands nervously. He was tempted to reach out and hold their hands in his own, to calm them, but he recognised it would do nothing to help the situation. "is that your quirk?"

Toshinori blinked, trying to wrack his brain for whatever the "quirk" thing Izuku mentioned was, but it all came up empty.

"Would you mind explaining what you mean, Izuku?" he asked, trying to mask the panic on his face at not understanding what the child had mentioned. "I'm afraid my old age is getting to me."

If only Izuku knew how truly old he was, just how far his memory went back.

"You don't know what a quirk is?" They looked almost offended at that, something Toshinori had to hide a smile at. Just a moment ago the child was still on the thin precipice of tears, ready to fall back down the mountain they had climbed to stop sobbing in the first place.

"I'm afraid not, child," Toshinori shrugged, his wings shaking softly behind him with the motion. "Why don't you fill me in, hmm?"

Their eyes lit up that the thorns and harsh greenery Toshinori had been so weary of earlier, pushing back to reveal a beautiful rose of wonder and excitement.

Well, if Izuku was this excited about the "quirk" they mentioned, it might do Toshinori well to learn about it considering he'll be following them along until he's no longer needed. Besides, judging from the light in their eyes as they thought about it, it seemed to interest them, and anything that interested Izuku is something Toshinori should learn about.

"A quirk is like–" Izuku devolved into mumbling, barely audible even in the quiet of the small street they were sitting in, the soft sound of rain against the road, their only companion.

Toshinori just sat back and listened, tried to, anyway. He caught some words here and there, enough to make a general assumption as to what the topic was. "Hero" and "power" seemed to be quite common, a few names popping up too quick for Toshinori to catch. Eventually, Izuku ran out of breath, their face almost red by the end of their explanation.

"Wow, Izuku," he said, pure awe in his voice. "You know so much about quirks! You're so intelligent. As for me… well, I suppose I don't have a quirk."

And at that… well the child nearly exploded. Their neck snapped towards him so fast Toshinori was almost worried Izuku got whiplash, almost. He was a bit preoccupied with how his body shot forward, his gut heating up again from that damn… knife feeling. Suddenly his arms were around the child as they had been before, one of his hands on their heads the other placed gently on their shoulder.

He bit back a curse and began looking the child over his wings fluttering anxiously behind him twitching with every worried crease of his forehead.

"Izuku, are you alri–"

"You're quirkless?" The child's voice was meek again, but… there was a note of poorly concealed, barely contained excitement behind their tone. Their voice was a dam, its walls weak with leaks all over, cracks spider-webbing higher and higher, stretching all over the surface of the wall. The dam was bursting, the wall crumbling slowly, hanging over Toshinori's head like a guillotine, and yet…. He couldn't help but feel that this wasn't a bad thing, that it was… Something good, that he'd done something right.

"Well, yes, I suppose I am since I am without a qui–"

"R– really?" Izuku stared up at him, almost vibrating under his hands, their words slurring together in their excitement. "Are you really quirkless?"

Toshinori took a second, blinking, wondering if the child hadn't heard him before.

"Yes–"

"Really!" the child had stars in their eyes now, like specks of gold in their green green eyes.

"Yes, Izuku." Toshinori really didn't know why Izuku was so excited about it all but it must have meant something to them. "I am quirkless."

"I'm quirkless too!" Izuku shouted down the alley, their voice filled with a joy so different to the sorrow they had expressed before, the melancholy that seemed to stick to the walls like glue. It was replaced with happiness as bright as sunshine, so warm even the rain had started to clear up.

"We're like two peas in a pod" he smiled, holding his hand out for a high five, something he'd seen some young people do in the past.

"But," the child looked past him, presumably at his wings again. He drew them wider, hoping to receive the same reaction as earlier, or something similar at the very least. He did not. "if you're quirkless, then how do you have wings?"

Toshinori froze imperceptibly, just the slightest tensing of his muscles, Izuku probably didn't notice… at least they wouldn't have if his wings hadn't shut close to his body the second his muscles stopped.

"Well that," he weighed his options trying to decide if it was really worth telling Izuku the truth. They were bound to find out at some point anyway, and now was as good a time as any. Not to mention they were only young, they had time to forget. Izuku did not forget, at all. "is because I'm very special. And you are too! You just don't know it yet."

He ruffled the child's head, chuckling as Izuku giggled from the sensation. His wet curls were still plastered to his forehead, his clothes soaked straight through, but the rain had stopped so he'd be okay, as long as he got home and took a nice warm bath, that is.

"Really?" Izuku looked up at him like he'd hung the stats in the sky, so full of childish innocence and wonder. It made Toshinori sad to see such a reaction to what he'd said. His statement was usually met with something like shy blushing or an over-confident 'you bet I am!', but never a broken — but no less excited — question of 'really?'. Toshinori had to wonder what kind of life the child was living if that was their first reaction.

"Of course, Izuku." He assured them, patting their shoulder lightly. "You're very special because… well, I'm an angel, your Guardian. And that sets you apart from everybody, because only the people with the kindest hearts get Guardians."

Toshinori left out the fact that is due to how often they weren't taken advantage of in life, but such a minor detail wasn't important right now. It would crush tem, anyway, to think that they were mistreated in the future, Toshinori was barely dealing with the thought as it was. He would tell Izuku when they were older, more able for the news so they knew what to expect in their life.

But for now he let the thought go, released its wings and let it fly away as it had always intended to, ready to come back another day in the future.

"An angel…" Izuku was staring at his wings again, reaching out with their chubby little hands to touch the extensions of his back.

Toshinori hummed, letting his wings fold out again, leaning forward so Izuku could run their hand up and down the soft feathers along the inside of his wing. Some parts stung, when Izuku accidentally brushed up and the feather pushed against the skin of his wing Toshinori barely hid a wince, but it was alright.

"Indeed, child," he continued sitting back so there was room to look at Izuku. "Now, can you answer a question for me? I bet you can, can't you?"

Izuku nodded eagerly, a bright smile on his face, almost like the sun in the pure blue sky above them.

"Good. Thank you, child. As your Guardian it is my job to protect you — I am here, to guard you, after all — so what were you doing out here all by yourself?" Toshinori asked, his head tilted slightly in confusion. "Are you lost, or perhap–"

Toshinori didn't get to finish his sentence before Izuku's eyes welled up with tears, and two near identical shouts rang through the alley.

One came from Izuku, a wet cry like those from moments ago when Toshinori first crashed into the alley. It was almost incoherent with the sobs that tore themselves from their throat along with it, but he could hear enough. Izuku's mother… he'd lost her in the crowds, in the rain and the haoc of the streets…

The second cry came echoing down the alley, like the first pull of strings waiting for the response of brass to shout back, to succeed one another before finally joining in sweet, elated harmony with one another. It was shrill, panicked and fast, so dissonant either it's responding call that Toshinori was tempted to plug his ears.

He did not. How could he when the message the person called out finally reached his ears, finally graced the two of them in their small little alley.

"Izuku!"

Toshinori shot up from the ground, limbs straightening themselves and wings shaking out in the air as the sun beat down upon them. He reached for Izuku, slowing only for a moment to let the child take his hand and trust him to lift them before shooting down the alley, the cramped space meaning nothing to his wings. Where earlier he had felt pain, now there was nothing, just an uncomfortable weight unsettling itself from his stomach, finally ridding itself from his body, and the overwhelming need to return Izuku to his mother to the woman whose calls were only growing in volume and clarity as they continued.

"Izuku! Where are you, Izuku? Has anyone seen my baby boy?"

With each passing second her calls grew more desperate, more manic. Toshinori shot down the alley, propelling himself faster through the air, curling his arms tighter around Izuku to protect him from the sharp blades of the wind.

The end of the alley was in sight now, but so too was a shadow along the floor, blurry as it was, Toshinori could only assume it was Izuku's mother. He changed directions, turning his body vertically and moving his wings to keep him from shooting past the cross-section of the small alleys.

Gently, he lowered the two of them to the ground, quickly letting Izuku down to step on the cobblestone beneath him, stepping down only a moment later, just in time for a woman to come stumbling round the corner.

She was tall, taller than most of the women Toshinori had seen so far on Earth, but not absurdly so, just a little bit taller. Her hair was green — though it was not curly, like Izuku's — and long enough to reach her hips. The green of her eyes too was like Izuku's, but if that weren't enough proof, the fat tears rolling down her cheeks certainly were.

Even then, when she rounded the corner and took a moment to right herself ready to forge on and continue looking, the second she saw Izuku, she stopped. Everything about her froze completely, she stood like a thick tree on a day without wind, tall and motionless.

It only took a moment for her to break, however, to shatter like fragile glass, for clear blood to run from her eyes and cascade down her cheeks like it had already been doing before, only harder.

It only took one little phrase, a single set of syllables from Izuku's mouth for the unwavering mountain that was his mother to fall, to crumble and crack and spring forward, swooping her son up in an embrace so tight and loving Toshinori had to wonder just why this child needed a Guardian in the first place. He found out, eventually. Unfortunate as that day was, it was a good learning experience for Toshinori, to realise the world was not as kind as the wonderful Midoriya Inko.

Toshinori was left to watch the two of them as the hugged, Inko whispering her worries away into Izuku's soaked hair, partly berating him for letting go of her hand but mostly just celebrating the fact she had found him, that he hadn't been taken by someone. He watched, a small smile on his face as they both continued to sob into one another, Izuku smiling so hard his face looked almost fake.

The two of them were reduced to sniffling after a few minutes, Inko speaking quietly with her son, reminding him never to do that again. But Izuku, the rambunctious little boy Toshinori would soon learn he was, interrupted her with 'the most awesome thing ever!'

"Mum, I met an angel!" His eyes sparkled like diamonds under a spotlight, emeralds catching the light and sending beams of light in every direction. "He was tall, and he had wings, and he was quirkless, like me!"

Toshinori could see the disbelief on her face, the hard look parents got when they had to explain something difficult. And then like that, it was gone, just a flicker, nothing more than a memory now.

She smiled down at her son. "Really?" She asked brightly, although Toshinori could see that her interest was put on. He couldn't blame her, not if he were in her position, his child telling him he saw an angel with no way of proving it. It was a tough pill to swallow, but she adjusted admirably. "What was his name?"

"Mr. Toshinori!" Izuku giggled in her arms, warmth blooming in Toshinori's chest at the sound.

"And what does 'Mr Toshinori' look like?"

Izuku giggled at that, the tears in his eyes gone, like sounds snatched by the wind, replaced with quiet happiness.

"He's over there," Izuku pointed back at where Toshinori was standing, just a metre away before poking hjsmother in the nose. "Silly!"

Inko looked up from her child, but the lack of recognition told Toshinori everything he already knew. She could not see him.

She hummed. "I dunno sweetheart, I can't see him. Why don't you tell me alllllllll about him."

Izuku frowned, his little eyebrows farrowing adorably, the little crease between them so funny to Toshinori he almost laughed, almost. His Charge was turning, however, to look back at where Toshinori stood, and it would not do him well to be laughing when that happened. He brought a finger to his lips, smiling behind it as he softly shushed the child, as if telling him to be quiet, that it was their little secret.

And it was, for his mother would never know unless Izuku grew older and finally decided to share his Guardians presence. Toshinori had never heard of it in the past, but that didn't mean it could not be done. He, however, was perfectly content to stay a secret to all but Izuku, so long as his Charge was safe… that's all he could ask for.

"Well," Izuku turned back to his mother who had begun to walk towards the end of the alley, Toshinori following along behind them happily, as he would until he was no longer needed. "He's suuuuper tall, and he's got really cool hair! It's blonde, but not like Kacchan, it's like yellow and gold! And his eyes are blue like the sky and–"

Toshinori smiled at the memory. Sad as it was filled with their sorrowful first meeting, he enjoyed the memory just to think back and compare them to one, past to present. The difference between them spoke volumes, the trust between them so strong now, like a sturdy metal bridge as opposed to the flimsy little piece of twine it was back then.

He stretched his wings in the empty space of the hall, a spot in-between his feathers just a little itching than normal. The sound of feet against the ground outside had his wings closing, however, a large smile stretching across his face as keys began to turn in the door.

Turning, he just about caught the briefest blur of movement before Izuku's green hair was tickling at his chin, his tears staining his clothes.

Instantly, Toshinori's mode turned itself inside out, from happy to comforting, kicking the door shut and picking his Charge up before bringing him to the couch to sob his worries away.

Whatever happened today must have been bad to send Izuku into a spiral like this, the thirteen year old nearly too big to be picked up. But it was no matter, really, because Toshinori would be here to comfort Izuku until he was no longer needed. When that day came, he would undoubtedly weep, would sob at the loss of his Charge, forced to watch from above as he went on to live his life without even a goodbye.

But for now, Toshinori was still here. He was here, and he was going to comfort Izuku, to guard him the best he could.