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Let it be known, the Second user of One for All never had a child.
Let it also be known, this doesn’t mean he never wanted one.
Growing up, he remembers stealing his sisters’ baby dolls to playhouse with. He wasn’t supposed to; his father would have blown a gasket if he had been caught. But Second, as would become a trend for the rest of his life (and afterlife) refused to follow what he considered a “stupid” rule.
Besides, he took great care of the baby dolls. He pretended to feed them bottles and rocked them to sleep while humming lullabies his own mother used to sing to him. She was an angel in the ground by that point. The ugly, purple bruise slowly spreading across his chubby cheeks, and his ragged clothes, indications of his father’s grief.
He couldn’t wait to be a dad one day.
He’d love them and hold them and tell them he’s so proud.
He’d kiss them goodnight and hug them lots and tickle them every chance he got - just to hear them laugh.
For now, playing with his older sisters’ baby dolls will have to do. He’s sure his time to be a father will come eventually.
-x-x-x-
Time passes and he grows older. The violence previously contained to the cities spills over into their little slice of suburbia.
Houses burn and people go mad.
His siblings-his two older sisters and older brother-and him watch the madness through the boarded up windows their father put up. It offers a little more protection but not much.
So far they’ve only been spared because their neighbors think they’re a typical Japanese family. And they wouldn’t be wrong in that assumption, except….
“Boy! Get away from the window!” His father tugs him off the couch, away from prying eyes. “If they see you, they’ll kill us all!”
He gasps, nearly tripping over his own two feet. Once he finds his balance, his father’s tugging him towards the bedrooms.
“You’ll be safe in here,” his father tells him, shutting the door to the crawl space in his face.
He remembers, even two hundred years later, how claustrophobic he felt being trapped in there for hours at a time. Every few hours his siblings or father would allow him to leave the confines of the space for a bathroom break. Occasionally, a water bottle or energy bar would be tossed in.
He felt like a prisoner in his own home.
At the time, he couldn’t understand why his siblings could go about their lives (as much as possible considering what was happening just outside their windows), laughing and playing, while he was forced to stay in the crawl space - out of sight, out of mind.
And then, one day, he hears the unmistakable sounds of gunshots and an angry mob floods their house. His siblings’ laughter turns to blood-curdling screams.
He remembers how frozen he had been, listening as they were dragged from their beds. Them begging the whole time for a mercy they would never receive.
He stayed hidden in the crawl space, curling up into a ball and wrapping his arms around himself.
Eventually, he would wriggle his way out of the crawlspace to find his childhood home looted. His mom’s jewelry, one of the last things they have of her, gone. And all the pictures of his family destroyed, entire scrapbooks turned to charcoal in the fireplace.
He was barely nine, standing in the ruins of what should have been a safe place, when he started to doubt if he wanted to help bring a child into the world.
-x-x-x-
Second remembers being fourteen and being scooped up off the streets by a ragtag group of rebels.
They weren’t much in terms of numbers, but what they lacked they made up for tenth fold with passion and training. They had one goal, which would later become two: get rid of the discriminatory laws against meta-users. (The second one, which would become the group’s main focus: destroy All for One at any cost).
More important than their goals, was how nicely they treated him.
They gave him a place to stay and clothes that didn’t smell like mildew and let him have access to a shower whenever he needed it. They fed him delicious food, even under the restrictions of government-imposed rations.
-x-x-x-
By the time he’s twenty, Second has long since given up on his dreams of having a family. Yoichi is enough for him, and he’s put on babysitting duty at the compound so much, he’s practically a second (or third) parent to all the kids.
Besides, he reasons late at night while Yoichi spoons him-his long, thin arms, wrapped tightly around his midsection-no adoption agency or orphanage would allow a meta-user to adopt. Not that either of them have the money to, and then there’s the slight issue of his husband’s brother trying to track them down.
They could hire a surrogate, but that ends in the same way.
He remembers how much his heart hurt to give up on that dream.
But he did it anyway.
-x-x-x-
Izuku Midoriya isn’t the youngest holder to receive One for All, at least not by much (All Might had been fifteen as well when he inherited the ability for his entrance exam). But he is one of the smallest (according to the eighth's perspective).
He’s kind and polite, with a heroic spirit that rivals the best of them.
Izuku loves talking animatedly about heroes and quirks, speech becoming fast and murmured. His big green eyes-so alike Yoichi’s, so innocent and naive-seem to glaze over as he recites all the statistics related to whatever quirk caught his eye. And the eighth listens regardless, though through the quirk, all the users can sense an uneasiness from their current holder.
“Toshinori is reminded of All for One,” Nana says one day after listening to their next holder launch into a rambling session. It’s the one thing all of them have been trying to ignore.
The others shake off her comment. Yoichi even goes as far as to joke that Midoriya is much more similar to himself than to his egotistical brother. This seems to calm the rest of them enough to let the issue lie, but Second….
….Second can’t shake the feeling that Nana might have been more right than she could possibly imagine.
-x-x-x-
The quirk is transferred right before the entrance exam.
Even stretched between the eighth and the ninth, all of them can sense the boy’s excitement. He practically skips all the way home. He hums and dances around as he gets dressed.
His enthusiasm gives off a wave of warmth that makes all of them allow the transfer to go through. Even Second allows himself to be swept up in boy’s happiness.
All of them silently agree to never bring up the ridiculous claim that their ninth holder is similar to All for One in any way.
The entrance exam comes and goes, and the ninth is left distraught by his own performance.
He cries in the sanctuary of his room, ignoring his mother’s calls for dinner.
It's a different sight from what they witnessed earlier.
The others hunker down, allowing the boy his privacy. Even Yoichi hangs back, unsure of how to comfort him.
Second doesn’t follow them.
He sits on the edge of the bed. The action doesn’t so much as make a noise, and the bed stays firmly in place. Yet, still, the boy perks his head up. His face, still full of baby-fat, is ruddy and wet from crying. He wipes his eyes, sniffling.
A warm feeling wells up in his chest. He’s familiar with children crying and has done his fair share to help them, but something about the ninth makes the second want to protect and comfort him. It's a warm, fluttery sort of feeling that scratches an unknown itch.
The boy sniffles again, curling even further into himself. Second’s fingers twitch wanting to reach out, but it’s unlikely the action would be felt anyway. It would be pointless. Except….
The ninth looks pitiful and lost and-
Before he can stop himself, Second wraps his arms around the ninth. It’s unlikely that the boy will be able to feel it, but he can’t watch the kid cry without doing something.
And, as if under a spell, the boy stops crying.
He looks around his bedroom with wide eyes. The corners of his mouth slightly tick upwards.
“Thank you,” the ninth whispers out.
Second, more than a little shocked that his small gesture of comfort actually worked, nods mutely. Not that the boy can see it.
He disappears back into the vestige realm, ignoring the others.
Yoichi sends him a knowing look, coming over to slide his hand into Second’s.
He sits on Third’s chair (as all the others are in the middle of an intense UNO match at the other end of the room). “How is he?” He asks.
“I got him to stop crying,” Second answers, voice monotone. The event plays over and over in his mind.
Something flashes in Yoichi’s eyes. “Oh. How did you manage that?”
He looks down at his free hand, turning it over. “I…I don’t know. I saw him crying and couldn’t stand it anymore.”
His husband doesn’t say anything, stroking a gentle thumb across the back of his hand.
“UNO!” Banjo shouts from across the room. He thrusts a card into Hikage’s bewildered face.
Yoichi smiles fondly at the sight. “With all that my brother’s destroyed, it’s good that we all have each other.” The corners of his eyes wrinkle a little as he smiles. “Don’t you agree, my hero?”
“Sure,” Second says. “But I didn’t know that we could reach out.”
His husband shrugs, resting back in the chair. “We can feel the emotions of any users that are still alive, right?”
“Right.”
“So, it would stand to reason that, if a past user’s emotions are strong enough, they could influence a current or still living user.”
Second gives him a sideways look. It makes sense, but he doubts that his emotions were powerful enough to bring comfort.
“You’ll see,” his husband says in a knowing tone, “in time.”
-x-x-x-
Izuku Midoriya is All for One’s child.
It’s one of the first things the vestiges come to realize once the quirk finally settles fully deep within the newest user’s being.
There’s external factors, things that they passed off as being paranoid, but are hard to ignore when they’re around Midoriya all day everyday in one form or another.
His eyes, which, while not similar to All for One’s blood red, soulless eyes, are the exact same shade as Yoichi’s.
His hair is green, sure, but it’s the exact same texture as All for One’s back in the day.
And then, there’s the pressing issue of the boy’s habit of rambling on and on about quirks. Which still freaks some of the vestiges out.
All this, coupled with them being stuck with and intertwined with the boy’s heart, mind and soul, makes finding the connection between All for One and the ninth easy.
But easy doesn’t mean accepting it.
Second tries his best to avoid looking at the boy. He would hate to look at him and see All for One staring back. The ninth is good, through and through. He doesn’t deserve to be looked at with any amount of hatred.
But Second fears, if he spares a single glance towards the boy, his face will twist into an expression that will make the ninth user feel unwelcomed or less than.
It doesn’t escape him how, in this roundabout way of protecting the kid, Second’s just confusing him further.
At least Third joins him in staring at the wall in solidarity.
-x-x-x-
Midoriya is….for lack of a better word, reckless.
He’s constantly on the move, taking down villains and finding new ways to use their combined quirks. It should remind Second of All for One, with how easily the kid manipulates their quirks, but it doesn’t.
Even worn down and haggard, Midoriya, their ninth holder, is still very much himself.
He fights to keep the peace, tentative as it is, and fights those that hurt the innocent. He often forgets to eat, and since leaving eighth in the dust, has no one to remind him.
The others try, of course, but Midoriya pretends not to hear them. Or maybe he can’t bring himself to listen to reason.
His emotional state is unstable, at best - the users can feel waves of unbearable sadness, tinged with desperation. A silent, childish plea for everything to go back to the way it was.
Second guides him, and amazingly, Midoriya listens.
Perhaps it’s because he has experience in making wide-eyed, naive souls that are hellbent on making the world a better place, see reason, but it works all the same.
“You need to rest,” he says. They’re standing on a rooftop overlooking the city. The stars are out, likely due to the lack of light pollution.
Midoriya waves him off. “I don’t need rest. I have to watch over the-” A yawn forces its way out of his mouth.
“Rest,” Second says firmly. “The city will still be here when you wake up, and if it isn’t, well then it isn’t your problem anymore.”
The kid gives him a sideways look, the same one Second gives his husband when he says something outrageous. “Was that supposed to convince me?”
“It’s the truth. None of us can predict what will happen next. What we can predict, however, is you collapsing in the middle of a fight.”
“I’ll be-”
Second interrupts, fixing the boy with a hard stare. “No, you won’t be fine. You need to eat something, a good rest, and to find somewhere to clean the blood off. But we’ll settle for you curling up on this roof for a ten minute nap.”
Midoriya scoffs.
“I’m serious,” he presses. “You’re still a…you’re still only human. Rest. If not for me and the other vestiges then for the sake of being able to go a little longer in this fight against All for One.”
“...Okay.”
The ninth finds a spot under an awning, hidden and out of the way. He uses his mask as a pillow of sorts, which makes Second cringe (he’s never been so glad to not have the ability to smell). The ninth looks at him.
“And you promise to wake me up if anything happens?”
“Of course.”
“And I only have to rest for ten minutes?”
Second kneels down next to him. “Close your eyes,” he whispers into the boy’s matted hair. “It’s time to sleep, Izuku.”
-x-x-x-
Izuku unlocks gear shift during the long-fated battle. And, despite his own reservations, pushes the boy to use the quirk. They need every bit of leverage they can get.
Though, it’s hard to ignore the internal damage his quirk (and why his quirk has to cause so much pain and suffering and-) is causing the boy. Izuku is a fighter, and it’s no secret his pain tolerance is somewhere on the moon by this point.
Second still hates it.
The battle continues to rage on. Shigaraki and Izuku face off, All for One vs. One for All.
Izuku pleads with Shigaraki’s humanity. He extends a metaphorical hand out, wanting nothing more than to save the crying child.
The sight is heartbreakingly familiar, and the outcome remains the same.
And then, All for One-the one not tethered to the quirk-arrives and all hell breaks loose.
He’s younger than any of them remember him (with the exception of Yoichi), but Izuku’s eyes grow impossibly wide when he sees him.
The ninth looks between the vestiges and him, betrayal flashes in his eyes. Without saying a word, Second already knows what he’s thinking on repeat:
You all knew. You all knew, and didn’t tell me!
Izuku ignores their warnings to keep his temper in check. Typical and expected. But when Second tries to say anything, he just glares at him.
“I hate you,” he says under his breath, though through their connection, he may as well have screamed it.
And, if not for the waves of remorse that crash through all of them at those words, Second would have believed him. But he knows differently, even though it hurts.
Putting aside the sting from the words, Second puts his game face on. “I know. Keep fighting anyways.”
-x-x-x-
Izuku trembles in his arms, fifteen again. His hair is curly and he’s perfectly clean despite the ruins around them.
“W-why?” He asks, voice shaky.
It’s hard to know what the boy means by ‘why?’
Why did this have to happen?
Why did it have to come to this?
Why did he have to inherit One for All?
Banjo, En, Third, and Fourth stand around them, blocking Izuku’s view of his own rapidly cooling body.
Nana stands outside the circle, yelling at All for One. Her maternal instincts coming out in full force. For all All for One likes to wax poetic about loving his family, he sure seems to have a nasty habit of killing them.
Yoichi kneels beside Izuku. He runs his fingers through their boy’s hair. “It’s going to be okay, Izuku,” he tells his nephew. “We’re going to a better place now. The heroes can take over from here.”
Izuku shivers in response, crying harder. “All-all Might….my mom….I never got to say goodbye.” He buries his face in the second’s chest.
He holds the boy closer. “You’ll see them again…eventually.”
Izuku sniffles, looking up. “You promise?”
“I promise.”
-x-x-x-
“Izuku, Full House is on!” Nisuke announces, placing the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table.
Yoichi laughs from his place lounging on the sofa. His long legs are tucked underneath a knitted throw blanket. A mug of hot chocolate nestled in his hands. “I forgot that show even existed. My brother and I used to watch it after school.”
Before Nisuke can respond, Izuku is hurrying down the stairs. He smiles from ear to ear; his eyes sparkling.
“Thank you for waiting, dad,” Izuku says, face going red when he processes what he just said. “I mean, sorry, I didn’t mean-”
“It’s no trouble, son,” Nisuke tells him and means it with every fiber of his soul. “No trouble at all.” Without looking, he already knows Yoichi is smiling at them.
As they all sit together, cuddling up under the blanket, Nisuke feels like his greatest wish has been granted.
He’s finally a parent.