Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Shoto

The Aizawa household was weird. Like Izuku said, he didn't have to leave. And why would he? Weird was great.

The adjustment from calling them Aizawa Katsuki, to just Katsuki, and Smallest Aizawa to Izuku was also strange, but Shoto was always gifted in adaptation. Within the first week, Mr Aizawa was already Dad, and soon after that came to light, Shoto discovered that Mr Aizawa smiled a lot more often than he thought. He only called him dad sometimes though. Only when it felt real, or right.

Katsuki laughed at Izuku all day when Shoto told them that he called Izuku Smallest Aizawa in his head for weeks. Izuku pouted, and complained about how he wasn't that short, and Shoto could have at least had creativity with his 'headcanon'. Shoto didn't know what that was, but Izuku insisted that that is what it's called.

Another thing he learned about the Aizawa house, or the family in general is that there was almost always a guest. Katsuki brought Kirishima (but he said to call him Eijiro, because Shoto was joining the family). Izuku brought Shinsou. Aizawa ("drop the sir, please. I'm not your teacher here") usually had one or more of his friends over, and it was usually Present Mic (Hizashi) and Midnight (Nemuri), or just Detective Tsukauchi. Never really all three at once. Aizawa told him that he was welcome to bring whoever he would like over, as long as at least two members of the family knew who it was. Shoto's thoughts immediately drifted to a black haired classmate with a charming smile. 

He also learned of hobbies that they had. Things they did together, interests and desire cultivating to something they do on their own. Shoto didn't have any of those, but Katsuki said he didn't either, at this stage, so he didn't have to worry about it too much. 

Izuku liked Quirks. But only the Quirks. The people were simply hosts to a better part of humanity. Shoto was unsure of whether or not the interest stems from jealousy, from his own lack of unexplained power. Shoto didn't say out loud that he wished Izuku would have had a Quirk, because that seemed shallow and rude. He wasn't very good at explaining what he actually meant, and Izuku was bound to take it the wrong way. He meant that he wished Izuku didn't have to suffer. But Izuku continued to write in his Quirk notebooks in the Sibling Court, and his workshop, and The other Aizawas continued to let him. 

He also liked gadgetry. It took several hours of coaxing and bribes, but Izuku cleaned his 'handy dandy inventions' off the floor, only for the process to repeat next week, when it was worse than last time. 

Katsuki liked cooking. In the few weeks that Shoto had lived there Katsuki went from staring nervously at the knives, to skillfully chopping vegetables like they were villains. When asked, Katsuki just said "therapy", and changed the subject. He had to wear gloves in the kitchen, because the heat from the stove or oven made him sweat quite a bit, and that's a bad thing for two reasons. One: ew. Two: boom.

Aizawa, twice their age, had several hobbies. He also liked cooking, and a few well-meaning feuds in the kitchen led to the Chefs Hat. It wasn't actually a hat, and that was a little confusing, but it helped them plan who would cook on what days. Either chef was allowed to mark themselves for two days at a time, but not consecutive days unless the other was sick, working, or busy. There was always home-cooked food in this house. Or baked goods. It was very pleasant. 

One of his other favorite things to do was read, or write. He said his backup plan, if he had quit during high school, or when he retired, was to publish novels. He didn't have any currently, but it was a work in progress.

Once again, they told him that it was fine if he didn't presently have any interests. They would help him figure it out.

"Hey, Shoto," Aizawa asked, "I've been thinking."

"Good for you…?" He replied sarcastically. Now that he was in a comfortable environment, he was coming out of his shell. Izuku loved it.  

"No–" Aizawa chuckled, "Let's talk."

"Okay," he said, sitting on the couch, and turning his attention to Aizawa. Izuku was out with Shinsou, and Katsuki was with Eijiro. No, Shoto was not jealous.

"When you came to live here, you mentioned that you had a binder."

"Yes," Shoto confirmed, "They're in my closet. They're very tight."

Aizawa looked at him calmly. There was not a single hint of judgment on his face, "May I ask questions about that, or are you uncomfortable with that line of speaking?"

"Oh," Shoto had never been asked that before, "I suppose there are questions you may ask. Am I allowed to refuse further questions?"

"Of course. This is a personal topic. I would never ask you to divulge something like that about yourself if you didn't want to," Aizawa soothed. He was very good at keeping people calm, "How about I start. I don't know if it'll help, but maybe it can help clear the air. My name is Aizawa Shouta, and I am transgender."

Shoto was in awe. He never would have guessed that about him, "You pass really well."

"Thank you. You do too," Aizawa smiled.

"Thank you. What questions do you have?"

"Just a few about safety," he alluded. There was a safety element to being trans? "You mentioned a binder. Do you still have it?"

"Yes. My spares are in my closet. Why?"

"How often do you wear them?" 

"As often as I am comfortable," Shoto shrugged, "They're kind of tight, and make breathing a little difficult, so I don't wear them during heroics lessons."

Aizawa looked at him strangely, "you have difficulty breathing?"

Shoto nodded, "If I wear it long enough, yes. Sometimes it makes my chest hurt too."

"How long do you wear them at a time?" He asked, kind of quickly.

"I don't really keep track. I think maybe a day or two at a time?" Shoto questioned. Being able to talk about his binders without fear of being hit was nice. Even if Aizawa tensed up when he said what he did.

"Are you wearing your binder right now?" Shoto nodded, "How long have you been wearing it?"

"Since breakfast yesterday."

"Shoto, this is very important. I know I said I wouldn't force you to do anything you don't want to, but I need you to take off the binder."

Shoto squinted in confusion, looking at Aizawa, and assessing his panic, "Why?"

"You're only supposed to wear a regular binder for eight hours at a time, and I think yours are too small for you."

"Okay, then. I can take it off. Do we have any nausea meds?"

"Yes, why?"

"I get sick. None of my clothes are baggy, or anything, so my chest is very open."

"I have a hoodie you can borrow. I'll get the meds ready, and pull up an online store, and we can buy you new binders." 

Aizawa was very accepting. He was very nice. Shoto usually made sure to tell him when he did something to make him happy, but Shoto was just a very vocal person. He did that for everyone.

Taking off his binder always sucked. He felt heavy, and off balance when he took it off, and Shoto was just now realizing that that's a bad thing.

He wore the biggest shirt he had. Unfortunately it was white, and moderately see through. Fuck. Aizawa really wanted to take his binder, so he couldn't be nauseous every time something like this happened. Shot gets the feeling that it wasn't like Endeavor (never Father. Not again) taking his things. Aizawa was doing it to keep him, not because he wanted to. Maybe that made Shoto feel just a touch better.

Aizawa knocked on his door, and told him that he had a few old hoodies with him that were, quote "not baggy enough to be overly-pleasant". He ended up wearing one with sunflowers all over it. Aizawa looked at it and smiled, "That was my very first attempt at making clothes."

"Is that why it's falling apart at the seams?" Shoto asked calmly, taking a seat at the counter, casually.

"Yes. That's exactly why," Aizaaa chuckled, making two mugs of hot tea, and giving Shoto medicine. 

They sat in comfortable silence, neither wanting to bring up any sort of conversation in case it goes wrong. Shoto wanted to further question Aizawa's abandoned clothier hobby, and Aizawa seemed to want to restart the conversation on binding safely.

Shoto debated bringing it up first, but he had just gotten all three of his binders taken away, and he really didn't care about hearing Aizawa's excuses for doing so.

But, being the curious creature he was, asked anyway, "Why are you taking away my things?"

"To make sure you use them safely. Unfortunately, I cannot grant you access to those things ever again, because they are dangerous," he said, in a voice probably intended to be soothing, but it just came out as pardoning. Shoto didn't like it. "But we will buy you new ones. Several of them."

Oh. Okay.

"You do go by Shoto, right?" Aizawa asked, changing the subject, "what are your pronouns?"

"Um, yes. Shoto, He/Him. They/Them is acceptable as well."

"Me too," he mused while he fiddled with the kettle, "same preference, actually."

"That's cool." Shoto smiled, "It's nice to be accepted absolutely."

"Indeed it is, kid."

Aizawa and Shoto spent hours discussing these things with each other. Minute upon minute, Shoto was happy with his place in the world, and with his identity.

When Shoto's new brothers got home, Izuku joined the conversation, starting off by introducing himself as "Aizawa Izuku, He/Him pronouns, but I'm thinking about They/Them because gender is hard, and crises suck."

Shoto agreed.

Tsukauchi

It was time for Shouta to go in to collect Naomasa. They were due to spend an evening together. They hadn't since the week before Katsuki's party. That was three weeks ago. Naomasa could have gone way longer, because of his workload, but Shouta was determined.

"Tsukauchi!" He shouted upon his arrival in his office. He heaved a deep breath, and a sigh of 'here we go..' but Shouta obviously didn't care. 

"What do you need, E?" He asked, hoping to redirect him somewhere else.

"What do you mean 'what do I need'? It's been too long since I bothered you with endless questions." Shouta beamed, taking a seat on the opposite side of his desk.

"Are you sure you and Izuku aren't biologically related?" Naomasa asked, very tired.

"I'm actually not at all sure, to be honest," Shouta hummed, "anyways, I've come to pull you away from your work, so you can take a break, Officer Overwork."

"Excuse me?" Naomasa asked, "I'm officer overwork? You're the one with two kids and the same number of jobs."

"Three kids." Shouta said, spinning in his chair. 

Naomasa paused, turning to look at his friend, "No… no you have two . Izuku and Katsuki," he said, tone almost worried, "Shouta, you have two."

"No, I'm pretty sure I count three," Shouta smiled.

"Shouta, this next part is very important. I need you to answer honestly," he pleaded, teary-eyed, "can you please do that for me?"

"Yes."

"Where did you get the third child?" He asked first, then, "and do I have to help with the adoption process?"

"Well, I got him from UA. And yes, I will likely have you help, because this time I actually did take him from his home without his parent's knowledge or consent."

"...does he have bad parents?" He asked, more than a little afraid of the answer.

"Yes!" Shouta said, stopping his spinning to look him in the eye. "I didn't even tell you the best part."

Naomasa was definitely about to cry. Why him? Why him? He didn't have the energy for this! "...What's the best part?"

"His name is Todoroki Shoto, and he's Endeavor's youngest son!"

'True'

Naomasa felt his head drop to his desk with a resounding thump . 

And he cried. A lot.

Once Naomasa chilled out after his breakdown, he had Shouta explain the entire situation to him. Young Todoroki is a neglected, abused child with a father who regularly hits him. His mother is in a mental institution, and is not allowed to see him. The scar on his face (that Naomasa had only seen briefly. Shouta showed him a picture of him laughing out loud at something Katsuki had said during dinner, and Naomasa's face morphed into horror at how bad the old scar is) was caused by his mother.

He has two (living) siblings, Fuyumi and Natsuo, but Young Todoroki apparently believes that they don't like him.

He had an extensive history in his precinct. Apparently he used to come in regularly to report his father, but he gave you a few years ago. Naomasa felt budding rage in his chest and head as he combed through his mind, thinking on what idiot he worked with would send a child crying abuse back home to whatever he was trying to save himself from. He hoped they were already gone, for their sake. It had to have been more than one person.

So he made a mental (and physical) note to run diagnostics on his coworkers, and purge the weak links in his system. He let too much slip under his watch, but he would not excuse this gross negligence. Shouta agreed.

A quick scan of the system found Todoroki Touya, a kid with a fire Quirk that burns blue. He passed away at thirteen, due to extensive injury. A natural phenomenon called Marie Antoinette Syndrome occurred in him, turning his naturally red hair snow white, like frost. The official story was that Touya had a Quirk accident, his blue flames burning at a temperature way too high for his body, naturally accustomed to ice, but all this talk of abusive training, grooming, neglect, and pain led Naomasa to believe that Endeavor had a little bit more red in his ledger than they thought.

He wondered how soon they could bring this to light, and when they could, if Naomasa could personally arrest him, and doom the flame hero– villain to a life in prison. 

Shouta sounded devastated, telling this story. He had three kids now. Two legal, all three traumatized in some form or another. Izuku's fear of abandonment, and Katsuki's bête noire being knives. Even Shouta had a particular flavor of trauma, so bad it made Naomasa sick to even think of it.

Naomasa promised him, with everything he owns, everything he is, and everything he could do, that he would do his absolute best to help Shoto. The least he could do is take away parenting rights, contact his siblings, and publicly shame Endeavor. Hopefully he could do more.

"Hey, I know I said I was going to take a break, and go somewhere with you so you can distract me, but I suddenly have a lot of work to do. Can we reschedule?"

"The best I can do is tomorrow, after school. I won't let you burn out," Shouta reasoned, dead serious after the conversation they just had.

"It's a deal. I bet I can get a great deal done today. It is only four pm."

"Don't go overboard, Tsu. I'll call you to remind you to sleep."

"Double deal. Thank you, and I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Shouta told him, getting out of the chair and walking to the door, "We're still doing something tomorrow."

"Of course."

Then Naomasa was alone. Well, alone with his massive amounts of work. He refilled his coffee mug, and set to work.

He had a lot to do.

Todoroki Fuyumi

She hadn't been at home in a week. That was a no-brainer. She spent the week with her girlfriend in her apartment. She said she needed to take a break from that house, and the people inside of it.

The last thing she expected to happen was when she got back, her father having a fit over… what? Was Shoto not cooperating in his training? Was her father going too hard on him?

No...

That's not it.

Shoto went missing. According to Natsuo, who came to see Shoto a few days ago, he had been gone for a little less than a week, and no one had seen him. Well, no one that cared. It scared her. No one had seen him? Was he still attending school?

The worst part was that she wasn't even here to notice. 

Every day, after school, she combed the streets, hoping to see him on his way back from school. She thought she saw him in someone's car, once, but that person was laughing, and excited, so Fuyumi shut it down.

It was almost two weeks after he disappeared, and there wasn't a single word from him. From anyone.

Her ringtone startled her. It was her girlfriend.

"Hey Rumi." She said, more than a little upset. 

"You still haven't found him?" She asked, "I'm about to suit up and help you search. I don't like how this is affecting you. Are you okay?"

"Obviously I'm not okay, Rumi," she sighed, "my little brother is missing, and no one cares. Father is angry about it, but hasn't said anything."

It really was concerning. Was Shoto okay? Was he even alive? Surely his Quirk would aid in his situation. She wondered if she could get her father to entertain the idea of rescuing Shoto. 

"I'll get some of my other friends to look too," Rumi replied, "Hawks, Ryukyuu… a few others. We'll find him."

"I hope so…"

"Did you put in a missing person's report?"

"No, we Todorokis don't have a great history with the police. Touya died after she tried to report Father, Natsuo got arrested twice as a teen, and Father has a history of not working well with them." She justified. Maybe she should have put in that report. Then at least there would be some semblance of urgency.

"Okay, so your first step is to do that. It'll make the search easier. I'll call you back, okay?" She soothed, sounding calming over the phone.

"Okay.." She hung up. 

It took a long time, and several deep breaths, but she had to make that call. She was about to officially tell someone, the police, that her little brother was missing, and had been that way for over two weeks.

"Mustafa Police District, what is your emergency?" The person on the other line asked.

"U-uh.. um… well, I'm calling to report a missing person? It's for a person that could be considered… important."

"Ma'am, can you please come into the station to fill out this report?"

"Yes, of course." She was a teacher. She dealt with kids all the time. She would have been heartbroken if it was one of her students, or her student's family that went missing. Now it was happening to her. Fuck…

Walking into the station felt like walking to a funeral. If a funeral was hustling and bustling with emergencies and phone calls, which they weren't, but still. The air was somber, and there was a heavy feeling of grief, not unlike what she was feeling in her life right now.

"Hello, I called about half an hour ago, about a missing person report? Is there someone I need to speak with?" Fuyumi asked the officer at the front desk. He looked like a cat. Shoto would think that was intriguing.

"Yes, down the hall, there is an office labeled Detective Tsukauchi. I'll let him know you're coming." The officer said. His name tag said Sansa. 

Fuyumi nodded, walking stiffly down the hall to the office the policeman pointed out, and she knocked. Almost immediately, a work-worn man with a beige coat opened the door, and let her inside. It was a minimally decorated space, with a few fake plants, and paper on every surface. 

"You are here to report a missing person, is that correct?" He asked, taking his seat at the desk. Fuyumi nodded, and took the seat across from him, on the other side of the furniture. While Detective Tsukauchi dug through his papers to find what he was looking for, Fuyumi put in the time to scan the room again. There were fidget toys on the desk, and a few in the corner with a large plant, and a sofa. There were also a stack of true crime books, a few cookbooks, text books, and unlabeled books. And a wrench? 

"My nephew. Sometimes he joins me here after school."

"Oh." She said, taking the opportunity to free her mind from her worry, "he likes cooking, true crime, and… machinery?"

"One of them likes machinery, the other likes cooking, and they both like true crime," he smiled at the area, "he hides his brother's things here."

Fuyumi nodded, smiling also. It was nice to have a distraction, even if it was momentary.

"So, here's the papers. What's the name?" The detective asked.

"Mine, or the missing person?"

"Both."

"Um, Todoroki Shoto?" She replied, and watched him stiffen, "My name is Todoroki Fuyumi. I'm his older sister."

She watched the gears turn in his head, before he realized something, and cleared his throat, "Give me a few minutes. Wait here." He said, picking up his phone, and calling someone, "Sho, is the kid with you?"

"Which one?" The other voice said. It obviously wasn't happy with the phone call.

"The Todoroki." Wait what?

"Yeah," the voice confirmed, "he's here with me, why?"

The detective sighed, weariness settling on his shoulders as he spoke, "Because his sister is here with me, trying to put in a mpr."

"Oh."

"Yeah, Oh, E. It's been two weeks! You didn't tell them you were caring for Shoto?!"

He was… what? Someone had Shoto, and they weren't… torturing him? Fuyumi had nightmares every night, deep rooted fear of some villain with a grudge against her father taking Shoto at home, and torturing him for information. But someone was 'caring for him' and the police knew? That was kidnapping!

"I did! I sent a letter."

"Aizawa Shouta, you're an idiot."

"Oooh, full name. I'm in trouble."

"Damn right you're in trouble! No one reads letters anymore, Eraserhead. Get your ass over here with the kid, and help me!" 

Wasn't Eraserhead a hero? A hero kidnapped her brother? She had reservations about him, if he did that. 

Soon, the phone call ended, with Eraserhead promising to come by within ten minutes, with her brother. Fuyumi was so confused. She worried for two weeks, wondering where Shot was, and if he was alright, and he was fine? Sure, that's exactly what Fuyumi would prefer, over the opposite (she shudders in fear), but Shoto could have at least sent a message!

Did she even have Shoto's phone number?

She sat and worried for another few minutes, before Eraserhead fulfilled his end of the deal, and opened the door without knocking. So either Eraserhead was just disrespectful, or he and Detective Tsukauchi were friends. 

Behind the man that kidnapped him, was Shoto. He looked… almost like normal. He was smiling, and his hair was shorter. He looked… happy. It directly contrasted the deep eyebags that Fuyumi knew were on her face, and her practiced frown, from worry.

"Shoto?" Fuyumi asked, trying to confirm that he was there, and not another hallucination, like the incident with thinking she saw Shoto in a car. 

What if that actually had been Shoto?

"Hello." He said.

Fuyumi stood up from her chair, and reached over to hug Shoto, "Where have you been?"

"With dad."

"But father… was… what?" Shoto, why do you have to be so cryptic? Especially in a trying time?

Shoto shrugged. Fuyumi looked at Eraserhead, and he gave her a two finger salute. He was 'dad' then? Fuyumi didn't know how to feel about that.

"Shoto, let's go home," she coaxed, trying to tug him away from Eraserhead. The man stood by and watched, so Fuyumi made the connection that he probably wouldn't put up a fight about this.

But Shoto looked at him, and they stared at each other for a long moment. Was this what it was like to watch people communicate telepathically? The detective surely wasn't bothered by this. At all. Todorokis really didn't like the police, did they… he just started passively combing through his papers, either looking for something, or trying to be an organized individual. Either way, it wasn't working. He yawned, and looked back up at her brother, and his kidnapper.

Eraserhead shrugged, finally, looking away from Shoto. He inclined his head in Fuyumi's direction, and took a miniscule step back. Was he really not about to fight?

Shoto shrugged as well, and turned to Fuyumi, "I do not want to go with you."

"Shoto, Natsuo and I were worried. Why don't you want to come home with us?"

"Well, I was going home, until you called to come get me."

There's no way Shoto was the house. There was no way he was at home, unless…

"What did you do to him?" She snapped at Eraserhead, seeing his eyes widened just a little in expectation.

"I didn't do anything to him." He replied, dead calm, like a still lake in the early morning. 

"Then why is he calling you dad, and saying he was at home, when he wasn't? I was at home. Having nightmares. Every night." 

"Shoto is fine. He's safe with me, and my kids."

"You have kids?! Did you kidnap them too?" She asked, thoroughly upset with the situation.

"I removed both of them from complex, or dangerous situations," he corrected, "I have been informed that it wasn't kidnapping."

"Oh, but you did take Shoto?" She asked.

"Technically, yes. He believed he was in danger, so I brought him to my home," he said calmly. Fuyumi didn't know whether or not to be upset about how easy this situation was for him to handle.

"What danger?"

"Yumi." Shoto interrupted, taking a step back towards Eraserhead, "I don't want to go."

"Look," Erasedhead sighed, smiling politely, "if you don't believe me, come see for yourself. I'll take you to my home, you can see Shoto interact with my other kids, how happy my house makes him, and see about continuing this debate."

"I'm not about to just go with you to your house!" She said, scoffing. Was he serious?

"Tsu, would you like to come? To escort Ms Todoroki to my property? I'd like to end this as quickly as possible."

The detective looked between them, and to his paperwork, and sighed, "Yes. I would love to."

"Fine." She said, picking up her purse from the chair, and where she previously abandoned it.

The drive was tense. But it seemed to only be her. She didn't know why she agreed to this. This hero kidnapped her brother, and this detective was in on it. 

They drove to a house that wasn't even a mile away from the Todoroki estate. Shoto was the first to get out of the car, walking to the front door, and just walking inside. Fuyumi followed Eraserhead, and the detective. She didn't trust either of those men.

"Shoto!" Someone, sounding young, shouted inside. "Get in here! We need you to play Mario Kart with us! Katsuki sucks at it!"

"I do not!" Another voice, another kid, defended themself. 

Shoto chuckled, and jogged to his two companions. Walking just a little further into the house, Fuyumi spotted them. Two kids, similar in age to Shoto, are playing a go kart game on the TV. The green haired kid, and the blonde one had their eyes glued to the screen. Shoto stood behind them, smiling way bigger than Fuyumi had ever seen.

The green haired one, Izuku, judging by the shouts of the blonde one, won by a landslide. Then they turned around to face Shoto.

"Dope haircut, Sho," Izuku said, smiling, "Way better than Katsuki's lame style."

"Hey! You're one to talk, cabbage patch," Katsuki shoved him playfully, "At least I have aesthetics, bitch."

"Is that what that is?" Izuku taunted, "I thought you were just desperate."

"Get your ass over–" Katsuki leapt over his end of the couch, and tried to shove Izuku, "I'll fight you–"

"Dad!" Izuku shouted, "Dad help!" 

"Katsuki, let him go," Eraserhead said, having watched the entire thing go down, standing right next to Fuyumi, "Izuku, don't provoke people. You'll end up with a hundred marbles you can't hold."

"Then I'll just drop the marbles," Izuku huffed under his breath.

"Izuku," Eraserhead warned, "What did you just say?"

Izuku cleared his throat, and looked Eraserhead dead on, "I said, 'Then I'll just drop the marbles'. Better?"

"Just–" Eraserhead rubbed his temples, "Just don't. If you don't instigate it, you don't have to deal with the consequences."

"Whatever," Izuku sighed, "I do like your haircut, Shoto. It suits you."

"Thank you," Shoto smiled, yet again. Fuyumi didn't know he had so many different smiles, "Can I play?" He asked, taking a seat in the middle of the couch.

"Sure! I need competition. Kacchan's kart skills are substandard, and inferior."

"Izuku, what did I just say," Eraserhead sighed. 

Fuyumi listened to Izuku grumble about marbles, and she watched Shoto and his friends(brothers?) play this game, with Katsuki's apparently second-rate prowess.

Shoto was happy. He was… Fuyumi didn't know if she had ever seen Shoto this happy before. Did she really want to take him away from this? To go back there? Father surely would not be relieved to see him safe, and would likely become angry if word gets out that essentially he ran away.

"Eraserhead?" She asked the man that kidnapped protected Shoto. When he turned to look at her, she continued, "May I see where Shoto has been staying?"

He hummed, thinking. He turned to the three kids, "Shoto?"

"Yeah, dad?"

"May I take your sister up to see your bedroom?"

"Oh, um," Shoto shrugged, "Sure? I've got no issues with it."

"Thank you," said Eraserhead, leading Fuyumi up the stairs, and away from her little brother. She heard Shoto say 'no problem', before he shouted, and scolded Katsuki for shoving him. The detective stayed behind, deeply enamored by the whimsical music of the game, and the little cars running into each other.

The house was large. It looked American, almost. The entire property did. He wondered if it was a style choice, or if Eraserhead was American.

There were five bedrooms, and the door in the middle upstairs belonged to Shoto, considering the sign that had his name on it, with little stars. 

It was quite full, actually. Fuyumi didn't want to intrude too much, but she also wanted to see every inch of Shoto's space. The bed was unmade, which never used to happen before (probably because of how strict their father was), and the room was a little disorderly. The closet doors were wide open, and organized by colour. There was a drawer, painted black with stars on it, with a sign that said Binders. She smiled. So he was also accepted wholly, here.

There were a few boxes of acrylic paints, and a brand new set of paintbrushes, and some of the other drawers looked like they were about to be decorated. An easel, and canvases sat in the corner. Shoto must like art.

Looking at the room, she wanted to cry. Shoto was happy here. Sure the way he got here was unconventional, but he was accepted, he was loved, he smiled now. Fuyumi couldn't take him away from that.

"I think I'm done here," she said to Shoto's new parent, "I've seen enough."

She wiped away her tears, and walked back down the stairs with Eraserhead.

The kids were still playing. Shoto, who had one of the controllers, was trying to avoid being poked by Katsuki. He was laughing, trying to split his attention between his new brother, and winning the game. It was impressive, because he was in first place. Izuku was lagging behind because he kept getting distracted by the roughhousing.

"Hey, kids, can you pause the game?" Eraserhead asked, quickly being ignored, "Family meeting!" He said instead, a little louder than before. Immediately the game was paused, and all three of these kids were up and listening.

"Okay, thank you," he said, "This is Todoroki Fuyumi, and she–"

"She's not taking Shoto, is she?" Izuku interrupted, grabbing Shoto's arm, and tugging him back.

"I'll let her explain."

Fuyumi took a deep, faltering breath, "The whole story?"

Izuku shrugged, "Whatever parts include you speaking to Shoto."

"I don't feel like I should say it–"

"Say it or you'll never see Shoto again." Izuku snapped, glaring at Fuyumi.

"Izuku!" Eraserhead scolded.

"No, it's fine. Alright, I'll tell my tale." Fuyumi sighed.

It was long. It was boring. The kid wasn't happy to know that Fuyumi both didn't notice that Shoto went missing, and failed to report it when she did. Neither was Eraserhead, but he was much better at hiding it. She ended the explanation with how she sees now that Shoto is way happier here than he ever would be at their estate, let alone how much safer he was. Shoto gave her his new phone number, because she didn't have it, and told him that he's fine, and would never have to face their father again. He asked that she tell Natsuo that he's okay, as well. He didn't want his family to worry. 

Fuyumi promised him all of that. As well as assuring him that not a word of this is to be said to their father. Or just Endeavor, now. Eraserhead was his new dad. 

Speaking of Eraserhead, Fuyumi apologized for her skepticism, and for judging him, but he took it kindly, and with a sense that Fuyumi was just trying to do what was best. He also officially introduced himself. Aizawa Shouta. And he was Shoto's teacher at UA. Huh. Now Fuyumi is doubly embarrassed about the accusation.

The detective, whom Fuyumi also apologized to, was apparently the uncle to these kids. She pointed out that she didn't really see a resemblance between the two men, but Aizawa said, "That's because we're not related. Tsu here is more of an honorary uncle."

To which Tsukauchi replied, "I'm the reason you get to keep Katsuki legally. I'd say I'm more than honorary."

Which was also fair. 

Aizawa offered to drive her home, but she declined. She had a lot to think about, and the walk will help clear her head. She bade the family– Shoto's family– farewell, and left them on their own.

Hatsume Mei

It's only a matter of a few days. The ultimate gift will be ready. Her best friend's birthday was in a few days, and she had a brand new baby for him– them?– Izuku was going through a crisis. A big one, by the sounds of it. The only crisis Mei had ever gone through is which baby to build first. The answer was all of them.

But this baby would be Izuku's baby. The ultimate birthday gift for a chaotic bestie! 

It was… special. So many uses. She had a lot to do, and she was just…

So excited!

The thing was, I was supposed to be a massive surprise! Which meant that she had to shun him for a few days, until it was ready, and Mei could focus her efforts on a baby less secret than this one. 

Izuku came by a lot, either out of boredom or obligation, Mei didn't know. The only think she knew about him was 

He hated heroes, 

He liked chaos, 

His last name is Aizawa, and he is the first son of Eraserhead (but he's also the middle child), 

He loved explosions, but causing them was even better, 

He was her absolute best friend, 

And she knew he felt the same about her.

She knew he hung out with her because he thought she was fun, but Mei also knew that she was annoying. She had annoying habits, an annoying voice. She made things, and sometimes they didn't work, and she's sure Izuku is disappointed. She didn't have any friends that weren't family, so having Izuku and his brothers around and tolerating her was nice. 

Sometimes she couldn't help but wonder if they all secretly talked about her behind her back. 

But there was no use crying about it, and there was no use asking! What matters is she had a friend. Even if it wouldn't last forever.

But that's not the point she was trying to make. The days she spent with Izuku, and the things they built together were the best in her collection. Mei usually went for things people could use, but Izuku had the mindset of "make toys! And make them your way!" Which was something Mei already did, but now she did it on a grander scale. She built Jack In The Bomb, which, despite its name, did not explode. At least not completely. It was a lockbox for weapons. It consisted of three layers. The inner shell, protecting the weapons (or whatever valuable items that one stores inside). Mei thought the idea was actual explosives, but Izuku suggested flash grenades instead. He sounded upset about that, but it was the practical solution, and destroyed less house.

Izuku (probably) enjoyed her company too! 

Which is why Mei was so excited to build it, and give it to him in a few days!

Maybe if he likes it, he'll want to stick around. Mei didn't want to lose another friend.

Shouta

Izuku's birthday was rolling around. His second birthday as an Aizawa. Shouta was really excited to plan this event. Wow.

"Being a parent has changed you, Sho," Hizashi whistled. 

This time all of his friends were there. Hizashi and Nemuri usually were, on a Saturday, but Tensei got a weekend break from a case he was working on (not urgent. It was a stake out on one of the hassaikai bases in Tokyo, and Tensei had another hero cover for him for the weekend), and Naomasa's friend and coworker Sansa grounded him from working. Not actually, but he threatened him with something, and it worked! Shouta might have to try that.

"Yeah, but it's a change for the better." Shouta replied, taking a sip of his tea.

"Didn't say it wasn't," Hizashi mused, "Parental is a cute look on you."

What… was that supposed to mean? Not two seconds later, Hizashi's eyes widened in surprise, and he choked on his latte, "It's cool! Parent-wise, you're cool. T-that's what I meant."

Shouta was even more confused, as Nemuri leaned over, and whispered to Hizashi; "Smooth."

"Shut up!" Hizashi whispered back. Well… anyways.

"Yes, it is a good change," Shouta agreed, "So I've given Izuku full control over the invitees, and theme, if he wants a party. But he said he did not. He's just accepting gifts and dinner."

"So he doesn't want to do anything before or after that?" Nemuri asked, taking a sip of her pink drink with extra extra sugar, "nothing at all?"

"No, as far as I'm aware, it's going to be just a day. With all of his favorite people over," Shouta shrugged, "So you better hope you're on that list, I guess."

He had hopes for his birthday. He had a very special gift. Special indeed.

No one but he knew what it was (except Naomasa, but he probably wasn't entirely sure).

There was only so much they could plan for Izuku without the child going berserk with power, so Shouta was limited to surprises. The adults were too, but they were significantly better at handling them. They probably hadn't ruined even a single birthday party. No, Shouta was not jealous. He just… he sucked at surprises. He could conceal his appearance just fine. In fact, he was pretty sure the world didn't even know he existed until a few years ago, but he and known surprises are not friends. 

He could always plan a surprise visit to one of Izuku's favorite places, or plan a new place to go, but that was a terrible idea for three reasons. 

One: what if he guessed wrong, and Izuku hated going on his birthday? Shouta would die if that happened, he swears.

Two: he's doing too much for Izuku when the kid already said he didn't want to go anywhere or do anything. Even if it was somewhere he knew Izuku enjoyed.

Three: the reasons listed above. He would likely spill the secret days in advance. Again. 

He sighed. He would definitely do it again, however accidentally.

Maybe it wouldn't be too big a deal? Izuku didn't like huge surprises anyways. 

No. Shouta cannot condone his own faults. Well… not really. He accepted his faults, and all of his (numerous) flaws, but that didn't mean he had to like them.

Shouta, somehow, made it all the way to the fifteenth of July before he gave anything away about his gift. And it wasn't even to Izuku! It was Hizashi. 

He called him cute again. 

Shouta wondered why he kept doing that. But he corrected himself and said that the gift was cute. So maybe Shouta's thinking about it too hard.

All of the kids that were coming had already headed over after school. The adults had a little trouble, considering paperwork and all that. Shouta, conveniently, had three kids that he needed to drive home, and "forgot about" the grading. He had time to do it over the weekend. It was Friday, after all.

But soon they arrived, and Izuku started his shenanigans.

"I have decided on a royalty theme!" He joked, "You will all call me Your Majesty!"

Nemuri snorted, setting the gifts off to the side, and boxing dramatically, "Of course, Your Majesty." She replied, before taking it back, and walking away. Shouta was standing in the kitchen, not all that far away from Izuku, when he heard him speak again. 

Izuku chuckled, "Power is fun." He whispered. Shouta was scared of that sentence.

Dinner passed without too much incident. Katsuki tried to start a food fight, but Shouta quickly shut it down on account of what happened last time.

Then, Izuku decided he would accept the gifts on the table. But he wasn't super enthusiastic about it. That's because Shouta knew that Izuku hated being stared at. 

Izuku pulled out a box, with green paper, and a silver ribbon. It was Shouta's gift to him. It stood out the most among the gifts. Hopefully, Izuku would not react poorly to this. It was a book. A photo book.

Izuku gasped softly, flipping through the pages. Then, Shouta heard sniffing, quiet crying, and Shinsou leapt to his side, "Look, Toshi… she's here.." Izuku whispered, running his fingers gently over the worn photos behind the plastic. 

They were pictures of his mother, or Izuku before his diagnosis, and of Katsuki. All of them were of the Midoriya family. Inko and Izuku. 

"I thought you might appreciate having these pictures," Shouta hummed, not wanting to interrupt the moment, "I got them from Katsuki, and Ms Midoriya's storage. She left quite a bit for you, Izuku."

Izuku looked up, tears running down his cheeks, "Thank you, dad." He leapt up, and pounced on Shouta. He was very small in the hug, and Izuku's tears didn't slow, but Shouta was fine with that. All he did was accept the hug, let Izuku cry. He likely had not seen his mother since her funeral, which to Shouta's understanding was six years ago. 

Izuku retired to his room, with Katsuki and Shinsou following him mutely. The stack of gifts were left on the table, waiting for Izuku to be ready to return. Knocking on the door gave Shouta the idea that Izuku would like to be alone. Maybe they were in their (not so secret) Sibling Court, or whatever. All Shouta knew was that Katsuki was looking through the photos for the memories as well, and Shinsou was moral support. 

It took another hour for Izuku to be ready to return. He left the book in his room, in a protective box, Katsuki said. Izuku didn't want to talk about it. 

Shouta wondered if he'd ever get a good look at Izuku's mother. It was fine if he didn't, but the woman who raised Izuku for the first ten years of his life had to be special.

But Izuku wasn't ready to show him.

Izuku enjoyed opening the rest of his gifts. He got so many things. A gift card to Takai Hiyō, and a mug with All Might, and a cancel sign on it, from Nemuri. 

Concert tickets to Izuku's favorite band. Two of them. "Take yourself and your boyfriend," Hizashi suggested.

"I bet I will!" Izuku smiled politely, looking remarkably excited for the gift.

A life-sized cardboard cutout of All Might to, quote "Host a bonfire with. Gotta have a planning partner". From Tensei. Izuku was delighted, because he, like the rest of them, knew exactly what "host a bonfire with" actually meant. He also gave him one of those little anxiety rings, to spin on his finger.

And from Naomasa… an internship. As an analyst for him and his closer coworkers. Not even a little related to heroes. He said that he also regularly works with All Might, so he can practice his off-shots on him. Roast him figuratively, just like he was going to literally roast Card Might.

Then Mei gave him her gift. Wrapped in a lock box instead of wrapping paper.

He made a show of opening it, wondering aloud about what it could possibly be. He slowly opened the lid, and inside–

"Wait, is this really–" Izuku's shouting cut off with a prolonged squeal, "Mei…"

"It's semi automatic." Was all she said.

'Wait… what?' Shouta thought, with mild panic, 'What exactly did Mei give him?!'

"A GUN!" Izuku shouted, louder than Hizashi's inside voice (which was still pretty loud).

"No!" 

Tsukauchi

The days leading up to leaking the information on Endeavor were some of the best of his life. He finally got done with his work load (or most of it), and he slept for three consecutive days. When he woke, he was as rested as he'd even been, and was fully prepared to make a fake account (and ID so he doesn't get caught, because this is technically illegal), and enact the best part of his plan against number two: provoke outrage, internet feuds, feedback changes, ranking blowouts, and public shame. It's going to be great. 

He still had two days before he could actually go through with it, if only to wait for the excitement after Izuku's birthday to die down, but Tsukauchi had never been more excited for anything in his life. (Ignoring the fact that it's a crime. Don't ask, don't tell, right?)

His plan was to post four different essays on the things he's done. Starting with a quick tidbit on Endeavor's life, and fame, titled (He).

The next was (Hurt), a lengthy discussion board on the things he has done as a hero that cause damage, and ruin to families all over Japan.

Next, (My). He will post an essay on the things he does to make things worse for other heroes, and the police. So many busts, and so many cases have been thrown off-kilter by this poor excuse for a human, he was just tired of it.

And, finally, (Family). Naomasa will be letting the world know who the Todorokis are. Who Todoroki Touya was. Who Endeavor was forcing Todoroki Shoto to be. 

'(He)(Hurt)(My)(Family)', by Oshiete Shinjitsu. Naomasa will be proud to take on that name. That name will likely go down in history. 

As soon as every Japanese citizen with morals sees that message, they will ultimately turn on him. The last time something happened even remotely like this, the hero was taken off the billboard chart, and moved to Australia. He later got his license revoked, and soon after that he was sent to jail. Being a bad person and expecting to get away with it… just didn't work. People usually needed help understanding that.

Sansa sent him away with a week off following his minor celebration of his freetime, but Naomasa thinks he has just a few more things to worry about. Namely, the gun that Izuku's best friend gave him for his birthday. It has Quirk bullets and that is terrifying. Shouta told him he was going to make sure he doesn't do anything he'll regret, because he is not the kind of guy to take away a sixteen year old's birthday gift. (As much as any adult in Izuku's life would like to confiscate it). 

Another was whatever the fuck they were going to do with Shoto once the information goes public. His current location was a secret (to everyone but the Aizawas & Co.), but what's stopping some curious civilians with only the desire to do the right thing, from snooping? It'll be a nightmare. He was half tempted to call and ask Shouta to keep his new child at home for his protection, but Shouta told him that if he finds out Naomasa has been making work calls during his vacation, he'll tie him down and watch cocomelon with him. He said it politely, but that was a fucking threat. A blatant one at that.

One day, Izuku approached him. He has chilled out significantly since Naomasa last saw him. Which was on his birthday. Which… He shudders in fear of Izuku, Izuku's gun, and Izuku's friend; the creator of the gun.

"I want in." Was all he said.

"In on what, hellspawn?" He replied, kicking back in his chair casually. Izuku didn't know anything. He could simply redirect hi–

"I want in on the bust. Endeavor's bust. That you plan to make public in three days. The bust that you will enact in the name of Oshiete Shinji–" 

Naomasa launched over his desk to cover the kid's mouth. Instead of licking him, like he expected, he smirked, looking downright evil, "So it is you? Huh. I wasn't sure."

He… he tricked Naomasa! He wasn't supposed to do that! He wasn't supposed to be able to ! 

"So, Uncle Naomasa," Izuku mused, picking at his nails, "I want in."

"You're a little shit, you know that?" Namoasa sighed. 

"Guilty," Izuku chirped, resting his head on his open palm, "Now am I in or not?"

Naomasa considered it. For longer than he had ever considered anything, "What are the benefits of letting you help?"

"Granted safe passage across the prank war I'm planning for next April."

Naomasa remembered the prank war from last year, (if it could even be called that. It was very one-sided). He did so many dreadful things. He fully wrapped every single object in Naomasa's office with duct tape and Christmas paper, down to stacks of paper. And then he did it to Naomasa's house . It took three days of leave to fully remove it, and he still remembered the desperate coffee meeting with the adults, explaining in detail what Izuku had done to each of them personally.

He dipped Nemuri's entire spare costume in perfume and glitter, and took the one she usually wore. And she was still shaking glitter out of her curtains, even two years later. 

Hizashi's part in it was… intricate. Hizashi had a collection of band records, ranging from ACDC to P!nk. Naomasa didn't know who those were, or at least not enough so that their names are instantly familiar, but Hizashi loved anything Pre-Quirk Era, or English. If both of those things were in one, anyone could bet that Hizashi owned it (or tried to). What else does Hizashi have? He has lots of time spent at his radio station, or at UA. Izuku took his records and switched their cases. Izuku said, and Hizashi confirmed, that none of the records were damaged in any way. They were just a little scrambled. It took Hizashi an entire day to reorganize them. He cried.

Tensei, having been assigned to America at the time, did not get caught in the Annual Storm Of April ( 'Lucky', the rest of them thought), but Izuku did sent him a handwritten letter, with Polaroid photos of the evidence, and what Tensei would have to deal with abroad. Among the pictures was one of Iida Tenya, Tensei's little brother, covered in green slime and gold glitter. The colours of the agency fighting Idaten for Tokyo. It was a dumb feud, but Idaten and Plantar were at each other's throats.

Shouta's pranks were a little trickier, said Izuku a few days later, detailing the events in a special journal. He had to avoid disrupting his own life, so he couldn't do anything he would have planned if he didn't live there. The best he could think of, and arguably the worst scheme of all, was to forge Shouta's handwriting, and write a love poem dedicated to none other than Yamada "Present Mic" Hizashi. He taped Hizashi's face all over Shouta's bedroom, his friend later reported. Hizashi confirmed that he could, in fact, tell that it wasn't Shouta's handwriting, but Naomasa knew for a fact that that wasn't his only opinion on the poem. Naomasa also knew that Hizashi still had the letter somewhere.

Izuku happened to have gotten sick this past April, and couldn't get out of bed until the 10th. Nine whole days after the "war". When he recovered, the adults were worried he would just start late, but Izuku groaned for three days that the spirit was lost. 

To be granted sanctuary from that would be Springtime Heaven.

"You're in," Naomasa approved, watching Izuku light up, " if you promise that I will be left out of it."

"Deal!"

Endeavor

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

One day popular, the next, Shunned. That was Enji's current condition. He went to bed on July 19th as the #2 Pro-Hero in Japan, woke up on the 10th as the most hated man in Japan. His HR was working overtime to explain the problem. Why was he suddenly being doused with water on the streets? Why was he waking up to toilet paper all over his yard?

Why did he think he knew who did this?

He stormed down the hall to Shoto's room, not fully expecting to see her there. She had some delusions of being a boy, and dreams of getting a boy's haircut, and being "happy with her new identity" or something. She ran away a few weeks ago, running away from her duties as Enji's heir. He had hoped she would be back by now. Her absence further proved his theory that she had something to do with this.

The hero billboard chart announcement wasn't coming out for another few months. Two at most. Enji never bothered to learn the exact dates. He got a nice little letter detailing his placement usually a week before the ceremony actually happened. 

For the first time in his forty-five years, he was worried. What would this unwarranted slander do to his position? It took this long to get to #2! If he falls, he'll never get back up. If anything, that insufferable bird would take his spot, and taunt him from his legal high-ground. 

Worst of all, he didn't know where Shoto was! The little brat was hiding just before training was supposed to start again, and it pissed him off! Who was she hiding with? That little crush she had? Ugh, she needed to wake up! Heroes didn't get crushes!

The best Enji could do for now is hunker down, follow this media storm through, and survive. Make sure his career survives. And then he'll look for Shoto.

Two days later, after hours and hours and hours and hours bordered up in his home, he decided to go against PR, and look for Shoto before it all blew over.

It was worse than last time he left the house. Instead of water, or god forbid lemon juice being spritzed in his face, it was eggs. Kids of all ages, elementary, middle, and high school alike made a game of hitting him dead on with objects undesirable. Like an actual rubber– he'd rather not think about it. The teen said that it represented him. And they set it on fire. 

This was the worst time of his life. 

The best he could do for himself is hold back his rage. Every time he thought about retaliation, he walked away. It was a new direction for him.

Villains went home when they saw him. He hasn't fought anyone in days.

One day, he thought he saw Shoto, but it was a trick of the light. Or someone's Quirk, again. 

Then, one day, miraculously, he saw her. Shoto was walking home from school, with four other children. Who were they? Distractions. He hadn't seen Shoto in weeks. She looked different. More confident. More powerful. That was good! Her hair was shorter, and she was laughing, but those things could be fixed. 

"Shoto!" He shouted, watching his daughter tense, and frown. Her companions stiffened as well, but they did not look at the dirt on the ground in Enji's presence. They glared. All four of them. 

"Shoto it's time to go home!" He continued, reaching forward to grab. 

"Hey! Leave him alone!" One of the distractions growled. He didn't care enough about them to describe them other than as Problems.

"No. I will be taking her with me! Bug off, problem children!" He shouted, trying to wave them away.

"Only my dad can call us that!" The main issue yelled, taking a big step forward. Two of the other kids flanked him. The red one, and the purple one. The blonde one wrapped his arms around Shoto, and tried to pull her away. Not so fast. Enji needed to take Shoto home. He reached out, with the reflexes of a pro, and grabbed Shoto's forearm. The kid screamed like she was dying, and reached for her distractions.

The kids grabbed her other hand, and Enji just tightened his to make up for it.

"Let go!" One of the kids screamed, trying to pry his hand off. He scoffed.

"Hey Endeavor!" The purple one yelled, "Why won't you let him go?"

"Because she…" he trailed off, suddenly lost in thought.

He heard them speaking around him, Shoto crying, the distractions chattering on the phone, and his hand still wrapped around Shoto's arm. Some of the kids, her "friends" tried to free her, but to do that they would need to either break his daughter's arm, or release Enji from this foggy trap on his mind. He could think, he could see, he could hear, but he could not do. Not without the purple child. Somehow, his mind was strong enough to resist the pull towards letting go.

During the time he spent trapped with nothing to do, nothing he could do, a small crowd had gathered around them, gawking at the sight. A few tried to take pictures, but the red one, and the blonde one pushed them back, and shouted at them not to.

Shoto remained in his hold until the police and other heroes arrived. The officers on sight glared at him, and the force of all this scrutiny had Enji's head hurting. 

Eventually, Eraserhead showed up, with a man in a brown coat that Enji just couldn't muster the care for. Eraserhead had his Quirk activated in seconds, the fog suddenly drifting away, and Enji regaining motor control. But the shock of being able to move had him letting Shoto go free. 

The kid sobbed, rubbing her arm, and running straight to Eraserhead, who wrapped her in a hug. …what was going on?

"Todoroki Enji, you are under arrest for assault, and discrimination."

As the cuffs clicked around his wrists, he had a single thought.

"What did I do to warrant this dreadful treatment?!"