Chapter Text
Inko is just 19.
But she feels so old. And so young.
It’s a strange feeling. She kind of hates it. She had thought 19 was so grown up.
It’s not. It’s only two years older than 17 but the difference feels massive.
19 was so grown up just a few days ago. 19 was looking for your own apartment. 19 was going to university. 19 was going on serious dates with the pretty boy from economics class with a face full of freckles. 19 was having a job interview, for an actual job, not minimum wage.
19 is helping plan a funeral.
19 is doing it yourself because eventually you realize your father is in too much shock, and your mother won’t stop crying.
19 is sick with grief.
19 is wanting to get rid of that stupid staff, and that stupid jacket, but not being able to part with it.
19 is dressed in black.
19 is hearing your brother died a hero.
19 is hating that word.
Hero
20 is getting married. Just as long as you don’t have to stay in that mausoleum of grief, taking care of three ghosts, not just one.
21 is realizing your son will never meet his uncle.
19 has Inko losing Oboro.
Izuku has always loved heroes. Ever since he was born. Every hero has endeared themself to him in some interesting, special, unique way. In the way they move, in the way they smile, in the way they laugh. In their mercy and in their ruthlessness.
Izuku wants to be a hero.
Izuku wants to save people.
He has wanted to ever since he could understand what it meant. But first, he had to get his quirk.
He’s already almost 5. Just a few weeks away.
He’s been hearing a word thrown around, over his head, among the adults. Quirkless. His mother has denied the thought. His quirk will come in when it’s time.
When it’s time.
When it’s time, Izuku will stop Kacchan from falling from the tree in the Bakugo’s backyard. When it’s time, a branch will break, and a boy will fall. When it’s time, Izuku, standing next to the tree, will catch him. When it’s time, a cloud will catch the falling star.
When it’s time.
When it’s time, things will change between a mother and son. When he says with utter certainty, ‘I will be a hero. ’
Izuku sits on the roof, eating the bento he had made the night before. His history textbook sits in front of him. They have a test the next period and he wants to do some extra studying.
The door opens behind him, “Hey, Moya.”
His mouth is full, but he waves at the blond sitting next to him nonetheless. He quickly swallows, “Hey Kacchan.”
Katsuki opens up his bag and pulls out a bento as well, adjusting the position of the textbook so both of them can see the page clearly.
After minutes of silence, and observing the chaos in the courtyard below them, Katsuki brings up, as delicately as he possibly can, “UA applications are due next week.”
Izuku rolls his eyes at the poor attempt at subtlety. “She’s never gonna sign that paper, you know.”
“She might if you ask.” Katsuki argues, “Come on, she never says no to you! You could ask for the moon and she would start working for JAXA!”
“Yeah, well, she’ll say no to this. She always does.” Izuku’s words effectively shut the conversation down, even as Katsuki fumes at not being listened to.
The blond looks down at the extras in the courtyard, passing meaningless nonsense between them. He contemplates things. Like the extras who worship the ground, he walks on. The classmates who would kill to be Katsuki’s right-hand man, his best friend. He thinks about the power he has over every person at this school. About the fact that if things had been different, he would have been different. He glances over at the shock of fluffy, cloud-like green next to him, and is thankful he is not.
Izuku is studying intensely next to him, keeping his eyes pointedly on the page. He takes a big bite of a sandwich and Katsuki sees his opportunity to speak.
“You sit her down.” He begins. Izuku glares at him but is unable to interrupt. “You lay out the facts. At UA, they have the best of the best. That means, obviously me, and you! You tell her how important it is to be a hero, especially since she loves me, and wouldn’t want me to go insane surrounded by mediocre extras without you. We show her some of the martial arts we’ve been working on! You bench press the couch to show how strong you are, and bing bang boom! You and I are eating lunch on the roof of UA for the next three years of our lives!” At some point, Katsuki’s semi-level instructions become louder and he ends his tirade with a few minor explosions.
Izuku swallows and glares at the other boy. If that look had been on anyone else, they wouldn’t have a face left to glare with. But Katsuki just reaches out and pokes Izuku in the forehead.
“Your plan is all well and good, but let’s face it, she’s never ever going to let me go,” Izuku states.
Katsuki flops backward, staring up at the cloudy, early March sky. “I know.” He whispers.
Izuku takes the bus home, like every day. He and Katsuki have different stops but take the same bus.
For the ten minutes, it takes when they are both on the bus they sit and people-watch. Izuku points out quirks, or even just little observations he has about people, and in turn, Katsuki makes fun of them. Izuku always scolds him, but sometimes Katsuki will say something funny, and Izuku will giggle a little.
He waves and steps off the bus. The walk is another 5 minutes. Slipping the key into the lock he enters his home and takes off his shoes, setting them on the mat. The house is empty when he arrives but he didn’t expect anything different. His mother works so much. For years already there has been a certain expectation that Izuku will make his own dinner unless told otherwise. That isn’t to say Inko never cooks, she does on weekends, and nights when she is home early.
He unpacks his school bag and sets his things out on the desk. Booting up his computer, he navigates the internet until he gets to UA’s website. The home page is bright and colorful, with pictures of some of the famous Pros that teach there. The standouts are Present Mic and Midnight, but there are plenty of them. He clicks on Applications and it brings him to a form to fill out.
Most kids got their applications on the first day it had gone up on the site. Every year there is a moment where the site almost crashes. It did a few years ago. But Izuku waited. He and Katsuki had filled the blonds out together, with the help of his parents.
But Izuku has to fill his out by himself.
He clicks all the boxes. Answer yes to all the questions. Fills out all the information, even some things that most kids don’t know, like medical history from when he was a baby. UA is nothing if not thorough. The last part of the form is where he stops. A little section for parental approval.
He heaves a great sigh and shuts the computer off. Glancing at the clock on his desk he decides to reheat some katsudon. As he watches the bowl turn in the microwave, he contemplates a lot of things.
For one, his uncle.
Uncle Oboro. Ghost, martyr, angel, hero.
Izuku remembers visiting his grandparents when he was very young. He had only just started to toddle around. Eyes hadn’t been on him for just a moment and wandered deeper into his grandparent's apartment.
The door to a room he had never been in was slightly ajar and he used his pudgy little hands to push it open the rest of the way. The room was a typical teenager's room, with posters of heroes, a comic book-style bedspread, action figures lining the shelves, and an old-school Nintendo. The only thing out of place was the shrine. In the middle of the room, Izuku saw a picture of a boy with wispy blue hair, smiling brightly at whoever was taking the photo. Little candles surrounded the picture, and a little plate of food had been left in front of it.
Before Izuku was able to explore any further, he had been swept up in his mother's arms and carried out of the room. They went home shortly after. Just a few months later, his grandmother went, followed quickly by his grandfather.
A little ping on his phone brought him out of his thoughts. He glances down at his phone on the counter.
Inko: Going to be later than usual, work emergency. I love you. You’ll probably be asleep when I get home, so sleep tight.
He shot back a quick text telling her had gotten dinner and would be fine. He pulls the katsudon from the microwave, careful not to burn his fingers.
The TV is put on a random channel and he zones out while eating.
He doesn’t know what possesses him to do it, but he sets the empty bowl down on the table and wanders to his mother’s room. Her room is exactly what you would think it would look like, with a plush rug, soft pillows, and many pictures of Izuku’s childhood present.
Like he’s on autopilot, he opens up the closet. He pulls the cord to shed light on little space. Past the dresses, and behind the various boxes and pieces of luggage, is a cardboard box. It’s damaged at the edges and looks like it’s been dropped a few times, based on the crumpling in the corners. There is no mystery about what’s in the box. Izuku has known for years. He and Katsuki had taken a peak in his mother’s closet out of curiosity when they were 8. He hadn't understood death in full, but he had understood when they opened the box, that its proper owner was long gone.
Inside is a brown jacket. He slips it out of the box and puts it on. It’s heavy on his shoulders, and the sleeves are too long on him. But it’s worn and comfortable. It smells like dust, but faintly of rain as well. He dips his hand into the left pocket and pulls out a pair of angular goggles, with clear glass to protect the eyes from the wind. The right pocket is empty, but Izuku is familiar with this jacket. He opens the inner pocket and pulls out the two photos kept safe there. The first is one of his mom and his uncle. They are younger than him, his mother is just ten in the picture, if he guesses right. It’s old and ripped at the edges. The second is more recent but still creased and damaged slightly. It’s of his uncle, around his age, sitting with two other people. One is a blond, grinning behind his shades, at Oboro. The other is a ravenette, tucking his face in a gray scarf as he pets an orange cat in between him and the blonde. The photo is candid and he has always wondered who took it.
The two photos in the jacket are the only photos he has of his uncle. He knows there were more, back at his grandparent's house. But the only one on the wall at home is the family portrait when Inko was just a toddler and Oboro was a newborn.
He realizes he let the time slip away from him when he hears a key slide into the front door. Shoving the goggles back into the pocket he shoves the jacket back in the box and puts it in the back corner of the closet, he just barely remembers to turn off the light as he slips out of his mother's room and into his own.
He hears his mother shuffling around, trying to be quiet. He realizes he should have been in bed hours ago, but had lost track of time. As the realization sticks him he glances down at his fully clothed body, only to see the two photos still in his hands.
Panic overwhelms him, he looks around the room frantically. The sound of his mother coming down the hall shocks him into action. He stuffs the photos under his pillow just as his mom opens the door.
“Izuku, you’re still up.” She says a little surprised.
“Yeah, I lost track of time. I was just headed to bed.” He rushes out.
She hums a little. “Izuku.”
“Yes?” His voice cracks at her slightly hard tone.
“You left the TV on again.”
“Oh, I’m, uh, I’m sorry, I’ll remember to turn it off next time.” He says quickly.
“Okay, good night.”
“Good night Mom.”
“Did you talk to her?”
“She was working late, I didn’t get the chance.”
Katsuki glares at him but doesn’t argue the statement.
The two of them go through the motions for the rest of the day. They get on the bus and sit together, like always. “You know you have to talk to her eventually.” Katsuki starts. “Even if she says no, but she won’t, Auntie Inko is a reasonable woman, she’ll listen.”
Izuku takes a deep breath, “Yeah, maybe…”
He hops off the train and heads home like always. When he opens the door he notices that his mother’s shoes are on the mat and her coat is hung up.
“Mom?”
He walks into the living room to see his mother sitting on the couch, with the two photos he had taken the night before. His mother never looks angry, but she looks furious when he walks in.
“You’re uh, home early?”
“I didn’t leave.” She gestures for him to sit down in one of the chairs across from the couch. “I noticed something missing and called out of work today. I turned the whole house upside down, and you’ll never guess where I found them.”
“Mom, I, I’m sorry- ”
“I thought we talked about this…”
His gut twists at his mother's voice. They had. They had talked about it on and off for years, ever since his quirk came in. She had indulged him for a while, assuming he would grow out of it. But he didn’t, and they argued. Eventually, he just stopped talking to her about it.
“We did but…” He thought about all the times he had spent at Katsuki’s house, with his parents supporting him entirely. Signing him up for a gym, and martial arts classes. His mother, for his entire life, has desperately tried to cover him in bubble wrap. “But I’m going to be a hero.”
Something in his voice must shake something loose in her because she stands up. “Fine, but if you’re going to be a hero, I can’t be here for it. My son won’t be a hero.”
She stalks away, and he hears her slip her shoes on and grab her coat, leaving the house.
Izuku sits there, stunned. She… doesn’t want him in her life?
His chest burns, and he’s not sure if it’s from sorrow or anger. His eyes brim with hot, angry tears as he stands up. He stomps through the house to his room and grabs the duffel bag at the back of his closet. Shoving clothing, his computer and the cord, two empty notebooks, and his pencil case. He leaves the duffel in the hallway. Grabbing the box from his mom's closet, he takes the jacket. He grabs some packaged food from the kitchen and throws it in the bag.
In just fifteen minutes he has packed up everything he needs. He sits on the couch with the duffel on the coffee table and the jacket on his shoulders. But he can’t seem to finally put his shoes on and leave the house.
Izuku loves his mother. And he knows his mother loves him. But her love is stifling. And he can’t let that love destroy his dream.
Moya: I’m coming over, have your window open.
Kacchan: Is something wrong?
Moya: We’ll talk when I get there.
He leaves his house key on the table and puts on his shoes.
It’s late and the March air is frigid.
He decides to walk instead of taking the bus. It takes about twenty minutes to get to the Bakugos. The lights are mostly off, but he sees Kacchan’s room light is on.
In their youth, the two of them sometimes snuck out when they had sleepovers. The Midoriya house is a simple, one-story house, easy to leave at night. The Bakugou house is a little more difficult, but they realized very early on that the trellis on the side of the house is stable enough to support their weight.
He climbs up easily and sees the window is cracked. He pushes it open and tumbles onto Katsuki’s bed. The blond is sitting at his desk, glaring at the greenette. He waves, “Hi.”
“What the fuck?”
“Yeah, good to see you too.” Izuku straightens himself out and sets his shoes near the door to Katsuki’s room, putting the duffel down next to them.
“What are you doing here!?” He hisses, careful to keep his voice low so as to not wake his parents.
“I, um, listen - ”
“Is that your uncle's jacket? And why the fuck do you have a duffel bag?”
“I’m running away.”
“Fucking what!?”
They spend nearly an hour going over his conversation with his mother. And his decision to leave after his mother’s hurtful words. They sit together on Katsuki’s floor for a while.
“Where are you gonna go?”
“I have some money left over from summer jobs and babysitting. I’ll get a full-time job, and finish the school year online.” He explains.
“What about UA?”
“Please, every time we went on a hero-related field trip I forged her signature. And you know I was taking a bunch of computer courses, I could probably fake whatever documents I would need from her.”
“You seem… very unaffected by this. Way less than I thought you would be in a situation like this.”
“I may be in shock,” Izuku answers. “I was wondering if you would let me sleep on your floor tonight, I’ll be gone before your parents wake up.”
“This is fucking crazy.” Kacchan snarls.
Izuku turns to look at him straight on, “I am going to be a hero. If it’s the last thing I do. I can’t live my life afraid of my dreams.”
“Alright.”
Izuku takes a deep sigh of relief. He sleeps on his friend's floor, stealing all his blankets and pillows in the process. At some point early in the morning, Katsuki steps over Izuku and goes to the bathroom, he stands in the hall afterwards and debates knocking on his parent's door.
He steps back into his room, and Izuku is gone.
Izuku saved a lot of money, but an apartment would be expensive. He needs an actual job.
He leaves early when Kacchan goes to the bathroom. He hears his pause outside the door and knows there is a chance he talks to his parents, he can’t take that risk, so he opens the window and climbs the trellis down.
It’s Saturday morning, no one pays attention to a kid wandering around downtown. The first thing he does is buy a burner phone from a convenience store, right down some numbers from his cell phone, and then leave his cell in an alley. Then he sets himself up in an internet cafe and starts looking for apartments. He looks in run-down parts of town, for cheap one-bedroom apartments, knowing that’s all he can afford. Being a minor, he would need some refutable proof that he has permission from his guardian, but as he told Kacchan, he can fake a pretty convincing signature.
He also looks for jobs. He finds a few coffee shops, bookstores, fast food places, etc. He sends an application to all of them, hoping to hear back from any of them.
When packing, he had brought a blanket, and the weather was good enough that he could get away with sleeping on the street for a few nights, but eventually, he’d need somewhere proper to sleep. And to shower.
The gym at school has locker rooms with showers, but like he told Kacchan, he’ll finish school online. He didn’t think the teachers would care, but if they did and they realized he had run away from home they’d call his mom, and when she told them she didn’t want him back, they’d call the cops, and he does not need that kind of heat at the moment. Speaking of the school though, he set up a second email account, with his mother’s name, then emailed the school, telling them that 1, they could strike her previous email and phone number from the record and could reach her under the new email address and his burner phone number. And 2, that Izuku would be finishing the school year online.
He expects the teachers will be thrilled to have him out of their hair, they don’t dislike him, but he can tell they don’t like him either. He’s heard far too many times that he’s ‘too smart for his own good’, and ‘needs to learn to be quiet sometimes’. Everyone always acts like it’s a compliment, but their tone suggests otherwise. No teacher likes knowing their student is smarter than them. And for some reason, Izuku just can’t bring himself to keep his mouth shut when they make mistakes. So he has not endeared himself to them as well as he could have.
Oh well.
He charges his computer and phone at the cafe and stays until closing time. The barista at the counter gives him a weird look when after three hours he doesn’t leave, but he bought breakfast when he got there so they can’t really complain.
A knock on the table has him look up at the cafe, completely empty, with most of the tables wiped down and the chairs stacked neatly in the corner. He looks down at the time on his computer and realizes it’s closing time for the cafe. The barista doesn’t look upset that he held them up, more bemused.
Quickly shutting his laptop, he starts packing up. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t realize I had been here for so long, I didn’t make you late, did I?”
“Nah, you’re good.”
They have shaggy, light brown hair with some streaks of blue and green, done in a wolf cut. They have on a baggy t-shirt with an apron over it and a flannel over the apron. They are only a few years older than Izuku, maybe in their last year of high school or first year of University.
He glances at their name tag, Chez. He leaves quickly and Chez cleans off his table.
He wanders through the city. The cafe closes at 7, and the city darkens quickly afterward. A park, halfway between his house and Kacchan, is where he settles for the night underneath a large elm tree.
Falling asleep, he wonders if his mother misses him.