Chapter Text
Shouta finally gets home twenty minutes after midnight, not bothering to stop at his agency even long enough to get out of his costume. He eases his apartment door open quietly in case Hizashi went to bed early, but his husband is lounging on the couch with their oldest cat, Sushi, curled in front of his chest and baby Ghost lying on his hip.
“Hey, Sho. Patrol go okay?” he asks.
Shouta opens his mouth to say, “Fine,” like usual, then chokes on the memory of Izuku’s bare feet dangling, Izuku lunging toward the edge of a ten-story drop, Izuku sobbing despite his inability to breathe. Suddenly he’s exhausted with the weight of it. As he stumbles sideways and catches himself on the wall, he thinks: Adrenaline crash. Doesn’t really make it any easier.
“Shit,” Hizashi says softly, gently displacing Ghost and levering himself over Sushi to cross the room. “What happened? You lose someone?”
“Almost,” Shouta manages, gritting his teeth. “Kid.”
“Aw, fuck. C’mere.” Hizashi opens his arms in invitation, and Shouta allows himself to be folded into his husband’s chest. He doesn’t cry. He rarely does. But they can both feel his breaths shuddering.
“Come on, let’s go to bed. You need it.”
Shouta shakes his head, trying in vain to pull away as Hizashi keeps his grip firm. “No. No, I can’t sleep yet. I have work.”
“Tell your vulture boss to stuff it, then, it’ll keep until tomorrow,” Hizashi says.
“Not paperwork. I need answers. For, for the kid.”
Now Hizashi pulls back, frowning softly. “Whaddya mean?”
“I don’t know if I can talk about it,” Shouta admits. “It’s…he’s so… Zashi.”
He’s not making any sense, but his husband doesn’t say so, merely pulling him in again and dragging him over to the couch. He nudges both Ghost and Sushi over to him and paces away. In a few moments, he returns with Shouta’s laptop and a steaming cup of tea.
“If you want to talk about it, I’m right here. I’ll give you an hour to work on this, and then I’m dragging you to bed, okay?”
“Fine.” Shouta drags the laptop close, grounded by the cats on either side of him and Hizashi’s steady presence as he starts looking up the local middle schools. That’s the easiest way to identify Izuku and hopefully get a last name, maybe some more information about him. His official records won’t be accessible until Shouta starts a proper investigation—which he will as soon as it’s not almost one in the morning—but any information helps.
It doesn’t take long to find Aldera Middle School and identify their uniforms as the same one Izuku wore. After a few minutes of searching around the website, he finds a photo from some event fair or another featuring a familiar green-haired boy. The caption labels him Midoriya Izuku. So it was his real first name. Interesting.
“That the kid?” Hizashi asks quietly.
Shouta circles his small, freckled face with the cursor. He’s smiling for the camera, but it’s different from the one in the photo Shouta has saved to his phone. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Yeah. Izuku. He’s older than he looks according to this, I thought he was twelve or so. But he wants to apply to UA next year.”
Silently his husband holds out the cup of tea. Shouta leans back to sip it, just staring at Izuku’s face. He’s in the foreground, alone, but there are several boys behind him and to the left. Are they just classmates, or are they bullies? Shouta remembers the burn, the scars, and squints at the kids. One, with spiky blonde hair and red eyes, seems to be glaring at Izuku, but the caption doesn’t name any of them since they’re not the focus of the image. He searches through a few more photos, but can’t find any name for the kid. Frustrating.
He doesn’t notice his hand is shaking ever so slightly until Hizashi gently takes his cup away.
“Babe,” he murmurs, “what happened tonight? Why are you glaring at pictures of middle schoolers, huh?”
Shouta closes his eyes as if it would help him hide from the answer. “I found him on the roof of an apartment building, Zashi.”
He only opens his eyes when he hears the sharp intake of breath as Hizashi processes that.
“I’m so sorry, Shouta. But you got him home safe, right? He’s okay?”
His mouth twists bitterly. “I wouldn’t say that, no. He…it was rough. He recognized me, that’s the very first thing he said, and it was so surreal, he was so goddamn excited to meet a pro in spite of everything. He had questions, he knew my stats, he has these notebooks full of quirk analysis better than some adults I know…Hizashi, he’s so fuckin’ smart, and yet-“
He’s stalling, they both know he’s avoiding talking about the worst parts, the real problem, but he wants his husband to see Izuku as a person first. Someone ought to.
“And yet?” Hizashi prompts.
“He’s quirkless,” Shouta says bluntly. “So I’m sure you can imagine the gist of it. Someone’s abusing him, but I don’t think it’s at home—I could be wrong, of course, but he only mentioned a mother, and I saw some texts she sent him. It seems healthy enough. But he alluded to not having a good relationship with his teachers, and he had these scars. I only saw his shoulder and there were at least four there, and I doubt the rest of him is any better based on what he said.”
“You think the teachers…?”
“It’s possible. It’s more likely to be bullying the teachers are turning a blind eye to, but I couldn’t get a straight answer. Izuku didn’t want anyone to get in trouble. ” He spits the word with so much force that Ghost flinches, half sitting up. He strokes the top of her head to get her to settle.
“He’s protecting them,” Hizashi says.
Shouta nods and rubs his eyes. “Ugh, and that’s not even the worst part. You know how he got on the roof in the first place?”
“I doubt I want to.”
“A hero left him there.”
Green eyes flash with rare fury. “Who?”
“Wouldn’t tell me. Based on the admiration he has for pros, I imagine he thinks whoever it was is beyond criticism. Or he could be scared of retaliation if the accusation goes public. But basically, he was attacked by a villain, the hero took the villain into custody and didn’t bother checking Izuku over at all before running off again. Obviously the kid wanted to talk to him, probably badger him about his quirk. But whoever it was couldn’t wait five damn minutes, so when Izuku grabbed onto him he just…jumped, or flew or whatever.”
“That’s so fucking irresponsible,” Hizashi hisses. “Tell me you’re finding the bastard and teaching him a lesson. Actually, tell me when you do, I’ll help.”
“Absolutely.” Shouta nods. “But he landed on a roof, a locked roof I might add, and probably chewed Izuku out for grabbing him. Then Izuku asked him if a quirkless person could ever be a hero.”
“Aww,” Hizashi says, momentarily distracted by the prospect of new blood., A little smile tugs at his mouth in spite of the situation. “That’s a fighting spirit. I bet he’d be great.”
“The other hero didn’t seem to agree.”
His husband’s jaw drops slightly. “He didn’t. That’s like, rule fuckin’ number one of dealing with the little listeners, you can’t discourage ‘em. Especially not if they’re already upset.”
“Believe me, I know.”
“We have idiots for coworkers.”
Shouta nods miserably. “Would you even believe me if I said it gets worse than that?”
Hizashi buries his face in his hands for a second. “No wonder you’re a wreck, Sho, I feel like my heart’s gonna break just listening to this.” He flaps a hand vaguely in his direction, stroking Sushi with the other for support. “Tell me.”
“He was walking home from school hours late because he almost jumped off the roof of that building earlier today, too,” Shouta says, so quiet as to be nearly inaudible. “Only stopped because he didn’t want his bullies to see the fucking—his—“
“I know,” Hizashi murmurs. “God. That’s not fair.”
“I can’t stop thinking about it,” Shouta groans. “He could’ve died and I never would have known him, no one would, he could’ve died thinking he can’t possibly be a hero-“
“But he didn’t,” Hizashi says. “Not tonight. You saved him, Shouta.”
“Not yet. But I am going to make sure he never thinks that again.” He opens a new tab. “I offered to train him. I’ll be shocked if he doesn’t accept.”
“Sure you can handle it on top of Toshi?” Hizashi jerks his head in the direction of their son’s bedroom. It earns him a dark, flat look from Shouta. “Right, of course you can, or you wouldn’t’ve offered, right?”
“Exactly.”
“What are you searching now?”
“Nothing useful on the school page except his last name, so I’m seeing what else I can dig up.”
A simple search of the kid’s name, predictably, comes up empty, but Shouta isn’t a pro hero for nothing. People aren’t wrong when they say the internet is forever and everything is tracked. Within another thirty minutes, he has Izuku’s mother’s name—Inko—confirmation that, as of about a year ago, she was still a single parent, and some miscellaneous things like the fact that they’ve never moved and Inko’s job at the hospital. He also learns Izuku’s birthday and some of his interests—pretty much all hero-related, especially All Might. Most of that is gleaned from social media. Inko isn’t a big poster, but there’s a decent timeline of Midoriya’s life that Shouta scrolls through maybe a little more than necessary . A little more time, and he’s staring at an absolutely adorable picture of a roughly four year old Izuku, dredged up for what looks like a tenth birthday post. Next to him is a small boy with red eyes, spiky blonde hair and an impressive glare for a kid. The same one from the school pictures, Shouta’s almost positive. But why didn’t he appear in any later images with Izuku? What changed that he’s glaring at him at school?
Quirks come in around four years old, his mind supplies, and he scowls. The caption only labels the blonde kid as “Kacchan,” which is obviously a nickname and not very helpful. Oh well. He can dig deeper when he has access to the school’s records. That much done, Shouta opens another tab, ready to figure out the identity of the hero who failed Izuku. It’s just a matter of narrowing down a list and then figuring out who was in the area tonight. Not too hard.
Then Hizashi gently closes the laptop. “Sho. I said I’d give you an hour. It’s time for bed, we’ve got school tomorrow and All Might is supposed to be touring the grounds and shadowing some lessons.”
Shouta almost pouts, but he’s not very good at it and it probably wouldn’t help his case. The search will still be there in the morning. Izuku will still be there in the morning. Hopefully.
Probably.
He allows his husband to pull him to bed.
————
“Hello, Class 3-A! I am here!”
Fantastic. Shouta is already wishing for a third cup of coffee and the man’s barely been here five seconds. Thanks to their lack of sleep, he and Hizashi both woke up late this morning and he hasn’t had a chance to look into Midoriya Izuku’s case any more. Most of his mind is on Aldera Middle School, praying a certain student isn’t being tormented again, knowing it’s in vain.
The class isn’t being very cooperative, either, already badgering All Might with questions.
“No, no, this isn’t a guest lecture,” the hero says, waving them off. “I’m here to watch Aizawa teach.”
At the chorus of groans, Shouta gestures at All Might. “You may as well answer a few questions, or they’re never going to settle down.”
All Might chuckles and reluctantly steps up to the podium. He points at a random student. “You first! I’ll take three questions.”
“Tell us about the last villain you fought! It was that goo monster, right?”
Something pings in the back of Shouta’s brain, and he looks sharply at All Might, who grins like he always does.
“Ah, yes, yesterday evening! That villain was actually a good lesson in controlling civilians during a fight. Many people have the good sense and instincts to get away from the danger, but some, out of a sense of duty to help you fight or admiration for a hero, might get in the way. It’s important to be aware of that and mitigate distractions.”
Students are furiously taking notes or waving their hands in the air, but Shouta isn’t watching. A slow-boiling rage is curling in his gut. But it can’t be. The man’s an idiot, not cruel.
“All Might,” he says, low. Several heads snap toward him, the volume in the room lowering by half and dwindling further at the sudden energy shift until it’s very, very quiet.
Shouta doesn’t really want to know what his face looks like.
He’s barely restraining himself from activating his quirk and revealing All Might’s true form. He kind of wants to.
“Yes, Aizawa?” All Might asks, sounding slightly nervous.
“This villain. He had a mutation quirk? Like his body was sludge?”
“Yeah, I guess so. Why?”
“The civilian,” he spits the word and sees someone flinch in his periphery. “Was he a kid? A middle schooler? Green hair, yellow backpack, obsession with heroes?”
The class shifts awkwardly, little whispers drifting hesitantly in the air.
All Might pales, like he finally grasps the gravity of the situation, but it’s clear by his expression he doesn’t actually know what he’s done wrong. “I…that is…yes? But how would you know-“
“The rest of class is a study period. Don’t destroy the room or each other,” Shouta snaps without looking at his class. “Let’s discuss something outside, Toshinori.”
He stalks from the room, not bothering to check if the other man is following. When he hears the classroom door close, he whips around, activating his quirk and throwing out his capture scarf to restrain Toshinori. He’s not All Might anymore.
This man is not a hero.
Shouta slams him against the lockers, making the rattle of metal echo all down the hall. He’s so furious he’s shaking. He can’t remember the last time he was this angry. When he learned about Hitoshi’s former foster homes, probably.
Toshinori attempts to hold up his hands even though his arms are pinned to his sides. “A-Aizawa, what is the meaning of-“
“Shut up. You’ll answer my questions right now and other than that you will not say a word, do you understand me?”
Shouta is forced to blink, black hair falling in heavy curtains around his face, but Toshinori wisely does not try to activate his muscular form. Instead, he just nods, wide-eyed.
“Good. Tell me. You found the villain attempting to take control of a child’s body, didn’t you?”
“I was already pursuing him, but I’d lost sight of him for a minute, and when I caught up…yes. He was wrapped around that kid. How do you know-”
“So how did you subdue him?” Shouta interrupts.
“Blasted air at him, blew him into pieces long enough to contain his…sludge…in some bottles.”
“And what happened to the kid?”
Toshinori looks away. Shouta waits.
“He wasn’t injured-“
“That is not what I asked.”
“He got thrown a little ways, must’ve passed out, but he was literally only out for a few seconds and when he opened his eyes he was coherent, no concussion symptoms…” Toshinori’s voice gets faster as he tries to compensate, but Shouta’s gaze burns red.
“He was unconscious and you didn’t get him medical attention?” He’s shouting. Someone is going to hear him. He can’t bring himself to care.
“He wasn’t hurt!” Toshinori wheezes.
“He’s a child!”
“Shouta! Shouta, let him go, I know you’re angry but you have to let him breathe.”
Shouta sways, distracted by the amplified voice. He glances down the hall at Hizashi sprinting toward him, then back at Toshinori. When did a coil of his scarf get looped around the man’s neck? With a little adjusting he loosens the choking hold, somewhat reluctantly.
“Thank you,” Toshinori gasps, looking at Hizashi. “I seriously don’t know what’s gotten into-“
“Oh, shut up,” Hizashi snaps. “Just because I don’t want him to go to jail for murder doesn’t mean I’m on your side.”
“What did I even do?” Toshinori asks, nearly whining, like a child. “The villain’s in custody, the kid is fine, there’s no issue.”
“Reckless endangerment of a child and a grievous disregard for basic heroic protocol, just to start,” Shouta snarls. “Oh, also quirk discrimination. If I get a really sympathetic judge I can probably even make a case for attempted murder.”
Toshinori’s eyes nearly pop out of his skull. “What the hell?”
“You left a fourteen year old quirkless kid—I don’t think I need to remind you of the statistics on abuse, bullying, and life expectancy of that particular group—on a locked roof, alone, after telling him he could never be a hero.”
“I was trying to help him manage his expectations! There are no quirkless heroes, it’s too dangerous, you know that. How do you even know what happened anyway?”
“There are no quirkless heroes because society is full of backward fucks like you,” Hizashi says, startling Shouta with his ferocity. “Kind of assholes who think people are defined by their powers. Of course you would be.” He drags his gaze up and down Toshinori’s frame, hot with judgment.
“And I know what happened,” Shouta puts in, forcing Toshinori’s attention back to him, “because I found him. I stopped him from jumping.”
Toshinori stops breathing. It’s only a little gratifying.
“No.”
“Yeah, it’s funny how a little word like that can destroy a kid’s entire world. I knew you were an oblivious, naive disaster, but what were you thinking?”
“I didn’t want him to get hurt chasing an impossible dream, I never thought-“
“Of course you didn’t,” Shouta scoffs. “You don’t think. And a beautiful, clever, brave kid almost died for it. I have half a mind to march up to Nedzu right now and insist he drop you as a teacher. Hell, I think I’ll lodge a formal complaint with the Commission about this. If I don’t take it straight to court.”
“Shouta, please-“
Shouta backhands him and doesn’t even regret it. “Don’t let me hear my name in your mouth.” He steps back. “Get out of here. Pray Hizashi talks me into being reasonable, for your sake.”
“I won’t,” Hizashi growls.
Toshinori doesn’t run away, but it’s a near thing. Shouta settles the familiar, comforting weight of his capture scarf back around his shoulders.
“You okay?” he asks Hizashi quietly. He’s the one who talked to Izuku, and of course he caught his own share of negativity back in school for his quirk, but his husband is the one with muzzle scars and nightmares that lock his jaw for hours. Quirk discrimination is a tender subject for them both at the moment, no matter who it’s aimed at.
Hizashi laughs lightly, shaking his head. “You almost killed the number one hero for a kid and you’re asking about me. But yeah, I’m…fine. Disappointed and angry, but fine. Are you okay?”
Shouta takes a step forward and spins around to slump against the same lockers he just pinned Toshinori to, hanging his head. From this angle, he can meet his husband’s gentle green gaze. “I’m angry, too. I’m going to Nedzu. He ought to know, and I’m not sure I want him teaching in the same school Izuku is going to.”
“You say that like he’s guaranteed to get in.”
“I’m training him. Of course he’s going to get in.”
“Of course,” Hizashi agrees. “Want to go now and I’ll watch your class?”
“Don’t you have a class?”
“Nah, prep period. ‘S why I came, it was quiet enough to hear you banging on the lockers. I was prepared to break up a bunch’a students, but…”
“Yeah,” Shouta sighs. “Yeah, okay. They’re gonna ask a thousand questions, but don’t tell them anything. Not until Nedzu makes a decision. Don’t lie, either, you’ve always been terrible at it and that’ll just rile them up more.”
“Aw, Sho, I’m hurt,” Hizashi pouts. He’s much better at it.
“Get in there before they come investigating,” Shouta shoves him gently toward the classroom with a little smile.
“Good luck!”
Yeah. Luck.
He hears the door open, entirely too much noise for study period spilling into the hall, quickly overshadowed by a too-loud, “Hello, listeners! Everybody settle down, yeah?”
Shouta tucks his hands in his pockets and heads for the principal’s office. He breathes deep, in and out. He won’t lose his temper with Nedzu like with All Might. He needs a level head on his shoulders. His principal is a rational creature, he’ll see reason; and for all his strangeness, Nedzu is deeply protective of his students. Or at least UA’s reputation. Mostly the two go hand in hand anyway.
It’ll be fine.
————
“Excuse me?”
“I know you’re not the one with a hard time hearing, Aizawa, so I won’t repeat myself,” Nedzu says calmly, folding his little paws on the desk.
“He nearly got a kid killed! A kid who’s applying here! You can’t say it’s ethical to have an instructor who’s already proven a dangerous level of bias against-“
“Shouta!”
He snaps his mouth shut midsentence, glaring at the rat. Nedzu never uses his given name unless it gives him leverage. In this case, a brief pause to make him shut up.
“All Might is a very powerful, very influential hero.”
“Oh, don’t give me that bullsh—“
Nedzu raises his tail with a sharp look. “I wasn’t finished. He is a great asset to this school, but he is not untouchable. For the reckless endangerment and gross misconduct I’ll assign him some mandatory trainings, and conduct an evaluation closer to next school year to assess his suitability. Once the year starts, he’ll have other teachers near him at all times for a few weeks to ensure he treats the students fairly. And we will, of course, take this incident into account in year-end evaluations. I believe those terms are more than fair, Aizawa. One bad evening should not ruin a man’s entire career, hm? Isn’t that the mercy you counsel for villains?”
Shouta looks away. “Not villains that hurt my kids,” he mutters.
“Hm. Perhaps. Is there anything else?”
“I mentioned the boy—Izuku—has a rough time at school. I’m calling Tsukauchi next to open a formal investigation. If you were to throw the support of UA behind this…”
Nedzu looks concerned. “Oh, dear. You want to accuse the school of abuse?”
“Based on quirk discrimination, yes. You know about my son, Nedzu. You know my instincts are good about this. Izuku isn’t that different from Hitoshi.”
“I’d still feel more comfortable with more concrete evidence,” Nedzu says, steepling his paws. “Perhaps a representative of UA could visit the school, speak to a few prospective heroes, and get a feel for the quality of our potential students’ education?”
“Yes,” Shouta says, far too eagerly, but he doesn’t care. “I’ll go. Tomorrow?”
Nedzu looks skeptical. “As soon as I can make arrangements.”
“Izuku is-“
“All due respect, Aizawa, Izuku has survived this long and currently has a better support system than before if he can contact you,” Nedzu says. Shouta doesn’t get a chance to retort before he’s being waved away. “I believe you have a call to make.”
Right. Right. Okay. He’s got a lot of things to do. He’s got a kid to help, that’s more important than whether All Might hangs around UA. One step at a time.
Ha. Just like he told Izuku.