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Inko, as always, is the most beautiful woman in the room.
She's radiant under the somber lights, and you pause in the restaurant's entryway just to drink the sight of her in, crushing the already rumpled flowers hard against your chest. The apology necklace from last year glitters around her neck, and the thrill of seeing her wedding band still on her hand soothes the needling and unyielding greed crawling under your skin. The mere idea that you might have missed this strokes the coals of your rage instead, and rouses your unfortunate carry on.
You're the carry on, Yagi grumbles pitifully, and attempts to trip you into a full out tumble.
You manage to smooth it into an infatuated, distracted scuff of shoe easily enough. The tables closest to you chuckle, and you offer them the best smile your new face can muster. Not an unfair amount of them blush, and maybe you could actually get used to this; the lack of persistent knee pain is already a plus.
If I'd had my way, we wouldn't even be here, you hiss back. So, think of this as my reparations for you killing me, hm?
Heroes nowadays don't kill, so… what does that make him?
Yagi goes quiet, stung with the reminder of the blood on his hands. Pleased, you tug smartly at your tie, and roll your shoulders carefully so as to not pop the suit's stitching.
Showtime.
Polite green eyes briefly acknowledge yours as you approach Inko, then turn confused when you stop to offer her the rather sad looking flowers. It's easy to see the fight or flight drawing the line of her shoulders taut, but you just smile, and she gingerly takes the bouquet.
"T-Thank you, um," she starts, eyes darting away and then back as you take the seat across from her. "I… Thank you, really, but I'm actually waiting for someone."
You lean forward on a hand, charmed as always with the determined slant to her lips. "I love you so much, Inko," you say, and she jolts, clutching the flowers to her chest as if to stop herself from throwing them in your face. "I'm sorry I'm late."
There's a long startled beat, the only noise between the both of you the soft clink of utensils on porcelain plates and low conversation of the moving world. Inko blinks, and scans the feathery, chopped black hair and blue eyes, rippling muscle and sleek suit. She draws to a stop on the matching band on your hand, and your smile shifts into a more predatory grin, the light of recognition furrowing her brow; you can't help but wonder if she sees the gleaming visage of All Might hidden in the seams.
"... Hisashi?"
"Yes, dear," you purr, and ah. There's the flush. "It's quite a long story, but I promised you I'd make up for last year."
Shock drapes her face. "W-What?" she stammers, and looks you over again. "Hisashi?"
You straighten, and splay your hands, palms marred with familiar dark holes. "The one and only," you say, and it's no surprise at all when you're forced to your feet by the ugly tie around your neck. "Inko —"
"No," Inko says, balling the tie into her free fist, and brandishing the bouquet in your face across the table. You sneeze embers into the bent petals. "... No, we're going home."
All around, the restaurant is silent, curious and amused. Inko all but yanks you from the table, the cutlery clacking noisily. The flowers are shoved back into your hands, and you can't help a swell of fondness as she places cash on the table before leading you away like a particularly naughty dog. Yagi keeps whatever thoughts he has on the matter to himself, lest he receive yet another reminder that everything but this is fair game.
There's nothing that can bring you down from this high, no matter how galling the body situation is. You've won so much more than you've lost in the past forty-eight or so hours, and you halfway want to thank the fool for everything. But maybe, as a treat, you let up just a little on the colorful flame that makes up what is left of the Symbol of Peace, a measly fragment tucked in the recesses of his — your — own head.
… She looks like Nana , he murmurs, stricken.
Does she? you think back, and let Shimura's bloodied face flash in your shared mind's eye. Yagi recoils. Funny that.
Nana Shimura was, if anything, a fighter. Yoichi certainly knows how to pick them.
… Yoichi?
You ignore that, come back to attention as the cool night air washes over your face. Inko marches you to the taxi curb, and you wait patiently by her side as she hails a cab. It's a time and half to fold yourself into the back seat after her, and she pulls begrudgingly at your knees, letting you shuffle part of the way into her side. The cabbie snorts with a particularly strange snout, the eyes just visible through the thin hair on the back of their head rolling in amusement.
The ride is quiet, but you can feel the brush of confused, worried energy radiating off Inko in waves. She doesn't move her hand from your left knee, finger tapping nervously, and you cradle it gently with yours. It falls still, and she looks at your hand before back up to your face.
"What am I going to do with you?" Inko murmurs. "What… What happened?
"Well," you start, but glance meaningfully at the driver. "Like I said, it's quite a story…"
She gets the hint, mouth curling into a frown, and. And, the other, unfortunate, fact of the matter is… you haven't actually decided what to say yet. You never planned to tell her anything, but there's very few things in this world that could keep you from her, and this isn't one of them. Maybe something about a quirk mishap would work. The last two days have been, in a word, rough, but this would have been the last straw; Inko would not forgive another year, another missed important date, not when she's been nothing but merciful to you all this time.
You could not miss this.
Silence reigns for the rest of the ride, but her hand doesn't leave yours. It must mean something.
The cabbie lets you both off in front of the apartment complex, and once Inko pays them, you follow her away from the curb and up the steps, flowers still in hand. By the time you reach the apartment door, you've come up with a silly enough mix of fact and fiction. Genuine in the right places, and lies in all the rest.
Be good, you warn Yagi, a funny little tease of a threat.
Inko barley has her keys in hand when the door flies open. You can feel the bitten off breath, the ruined inhale, at the sight of the boy that stands in the doorway. With the light behind him, the tips of his hair run green, but as much as it's easy to see Inko in his soft face, you know Yagi can see you in him too. It's mostly the freckles, the flyaway curls, but there's no denying it even though Yagi had hysterically laughed it off and then tried to throw you both off a bridge.
I am more strange, and much worse, than any fiction, don't forget that, you tell his shaking conscience.
"Mom!" Izuku yelps. "Mom, you're back early, did, did he not—"
"Izuku," you cut in gently, and he stammers to a stop, seeming to only just then see the tall figure at his mother's back.
You smile, and his eyes go wide, freckles standing out on his cheeks. "M-Mom, who…"
Inko sighs. "May we come in first, sweetie?" she says, and he nods so hard his hair flops in and out of his eyes.
The doorway is a bit of a squeeze, and it runs a funny tickle along your scalp as the tips of your hair graze the ceiling. You pause in the hallway, and just look because you haven't been home in so long, and something about the domesticity feels like a breath of fresh air. If your tag along hadn't made it his mission to tear through everything you've built like a raging bull, you would have been here more, but now he's out of the way, and it doesn't matter.
You have all the time in the world again.
A yellow glint draws your eye as you meander down the hall, and you frown at the name plate hanging from Izuku's door. Well. All the time in the world should be enough to fix that too.
"Mom," Izuku whispers, eyeing you with all the subtlety of an elephant, "who is he? Where's…"
"Let's all sit down first, okay?" she tells him, shooing him forward, and shoots you a daring look.
Raising your hands in mock surrender, you dutifully follow them into the living room and just as demurely settle on your knees across from the couch, the low lying table between you and them. You offer Inko the flowers again as she goes to sit, and the scandalized look Izuku gives the bouquet as she takes them back makes your smile grow. She fiddles with the flowers for a moment before sitting down, hugging them like a lifeline.
With a shrewd look, Izuku looks between you and her, nearly vibrating with all the thoughts buzzing in his little head. "Who are you?" he blurts, and stills when your reply is to offer him your hand over the table.
"It's been much too long, Izuku, and I am sorry about that," you murmur, temper the writhing want with genuine regret. His hand is so small in yours, and his fingers press gently around the edges of the hole in your palm, an echo of so long ago. "I… had a bit of an accident the other day."
The penny drops, and Izuku snatches his hand back. "D-Dad?" he stammers, disbelieving. "You, you look like — but..."
"Are you okay?" Inko says, startled, eyes roving your form more intently. "How… Is that…"
You shift, straighten just a little. Even on the floor, your eyes are even with theirs. Being this tall is a little strange, and it's not like you were ever even short to begin with, but, well, storytime.
"Give or take about, say, fifty hours ago, I —" you start, testing the words for the right pitch in sheepishness and faux, lingering fear, but that's as far as you get.
A blistering rainbow of colors steals across your vision, a flare of sharp pain at your temple. The words catch in your teeth, and then leave your — his lips with barely a stutter, " — need help. Your husband is a villain and in control of my body, please help me —"
You snap your mouth shut with an audible click. "... And that is why I can't have nice things," you finish lamely, after an awkward moment.
The twin looks of abject horror on Izuku's and Inko's faces are, well, gut wrenching. Infuriating. Maddening. They never should have needed to look at you like that.
Really? you think, and Yagi lashes out with another nauseating whorl of colors. You mentally bat it aside with little effort, and grab hold of the trembling flame, squeeze. Must you try to take everything from me?
"You… that sounded like… All Might?" Izuku whimpers, and you can only watch as Inko drops the flowers to haul him up and into her arms as she stands. "Your smile…"
"The original tenant of this body is a bit crabby," you admit, an attempt to soothe. Yoichi can't take this from you, you won't allow it. "I know I've been pretty… absent but I would never hurt you, either of you. I love you both so much, and I want to be in your lives more than anything."
Inko stops edging away, bottom lip trembling, confused and scared. You want to wring Yagi's neck. "... Is Izuku right? Is that…"
"It was an accident," you allow, and rub halfheartedly at your dyed hair; blonde is much too striking and familiar. Soon, the world will realize it's missing its idol, and you'd rather not tempt it.
"Moreso on my part."
It's silly, in retrospect. You could have bought another ring, or even remade it yourself; no one would ever have been the wiser, but it wouldn't be the same. Inko gave you this ring, and your fear of losing it nearly cost you your life.
Murderer, you think cheekily, twisting the band around your finger, and Yagi flares weakly with hate. You're awful with children, aren't you?
"What are you doing to All Might?" Izuku demands, tears in his eyes. You desperately want to wipe them away, but Inko shies back when you shift. "Are you a villain? All Might wouldn't..."
You meet Inko's gaze, and offer her the crooked smile that apparently won her over a long time ago. "Many would call me a villain, but I like to think I'm more than that, but also less. Does that make sense?"
Inko pales, conflicted. She drops Izuku from her arms, tries to shuffle him behind her. It's a mistake, so you're not surprised when he easily shakes her off and comes running, fists raised.
Your little hero.
"Izuku!"
"No!" he shouts back, and pounds as hard as he can on your chest. "No, you can't — who are you? Get out of All Might's body!"
Gently, you take hold of his powerless little wrists, and he falls still. Wet, green eyes glare at you, and it breaks your heart just a little because you've been here before, but.
But, it won't be like before.
"If I do, I'll die," you tell him, gently. "He left me no choice; I wanted to come home to you."
Yagi seethes. And all the people that wanted to go home too but lost their lives to you?
Hush, you admonish, and continue with, "It's temporary, but for now… I'm trying to make it work."
Inko inches closer, hands raised like she may need to yank Izuku clear. "But if that's… If that's All Might you can't keep... him."
"It's temporary, but unavoidable," you stress, and it will be, one way or another.
You just need to figure out the little One For All problem, and then, hopefully, Yagi will just fade to nothing. If not, well, while this body is nice… there's always still Tomura.
Izuku sniffs loudly, mouth a squibbly, unhappy line. The guilt that you feel is not your own, and to distract from the unfurling delight, you press a soft kiss to his hair.
You should feel bad; you made my innocent, nine year old son cry, you whisper. Do you ever think before you act? Selfish, aren't you.
"... to share," comes mumbled into your thoroughly wrinkled shirt. You turn your head, hum with question, and Izuku hiccups, folds into your hold, then repeats," … You have to share. Everyone needs him, o-okay?"
Smiling into his hair, you glance up at Inko's softening expression. "Of course," you say, and keep Do you not need me? to yourself.
Of course he needs you.
Of course he does.
Of course.