Chapter Text
Sunlight breaks through the curtains in golden fractures, relieving the darkness with warm light. The sounds of a busy city waking up bleed in from outside, mixing with the dulcet tones of a deep masculine voice repeatedly telling someone “it’s time to wake up!”. At the center of the room sits an occupied bed, its occupant laying starfish style under a bright red duvet, his head stuffed under at least three pillows and a small mountain of plushies.
“Izuku! Honey! You need to wake up, Katsuki will be here soon for school!”
The words were accompanied by a knocking on the floor and at least got a reaction from the unconscious teen. He lifted himself out from the pile of pillows and made it as far as the edge of his mattress, one leg sticking out from under the blanket, before sleep claimed him again.
“DEKU!” The trapdoor in the floor jumped under Katsuki’s fist and Izuku jumped with it, startling so badly he landed head-first on the ground in a classic scorpion pose. “You have five fucking minutes before I leave without you!”
“Be down in a minute Kacchan!” Izuku shouted back, only a little muffled by his cheek kissing his superhero rug.
With more speed than grace, Izuku somersaulted the rest of the way out of bed and kicked his blankets free while simultaneously ripping his pajamas off to leave a trail of clothes between his bed and his closet.
Not for the first time, Izuku was grateful they wore uniforms to school. If he had to think about his clothing choices he would either end up wearing something a toddler might choose or spend so much time overthinking his choices that he’d still somehow end up looking like a toddler. At least with the uniform he could fix the buttons while they walked to school, maybe Kacchan would even help him with his tie.
That was wishful thinking; no matter how badly he might want Katsuki to touch him, Kacchan wasn’t that kind of person. Katsuki would sooner come up with a dozen ways to mock his tying ability than get that close to Izuku.
He would still play that fantasy out in his head in first period. For now, Izuku had to slide down the latter to his attic room with his pants undone, something he could only do after three and a half years of practice. He looked over the loft balcony to see his mother happily making her tea while Katsuki sat glaring at the lunches she made for them.
“Almost ready!” Izuku promised as he ran to the bathroom.
“Fix that stupid bush on your head!”
He was right, much to Izuku’s horror. His usually unruly hair was twice as frizzy as usual and seemed to slick up at fun new angles designed to make him look as crazy as possible. Katsuki would never be interested in him when he looked like a well-used troll doll.
He brushed his teeth with less care than was probably recommended and ran wet fingers through his curls until they were more damp than frizzy. It would have to be good enough, he knew from experience that Katsuki wouldn’t wait for him and this was his favorite part of the day so there was no way he was missing it.
Running down the narrow stairway on socked feet, Izuku grabbed his blazer and lunch only stopping to kiss his mother on the cheek before flying to the front door where Katsuki was already pulling on his shoes.
“Bye, Mom! Love you!” Izuku called over his shoulder. Katsuki was leading the way out the door, knowing or not caring that Izuku was behind him.
He was just shoving his lunch into his backpack when his mother opened the door again, “Izuku! I almost forgot! We are having a guest over for dinner so you need to come home right after school!” She called down the street, the few other pedestrians not paying her any mind.
“OK!” He smiled over his shoulder at her, not wanting to stop and risk losing any of his twelve-minute walk with Katsuki.
“Tch, didn’t I tell you to fix your fuckin head?” Katsuki grunted while Izuku juggled his backpack and his blazer.
“I did! Kinda… I still don’t know what to do with it most of the time,” Izuku admitted, not looking at Katsuki. He always managed to sound so pathetic in front of the person he was stupidly in love with.
“A haircut might be a good start,” Katsuki replied, sounding bored but the lack of anything mocking gave Izuku an unreasonable amount of hope.
“You’re probably right, maybe this weekend. Oh well, I wonder who might be coming for dinner. The only guests my mom usually invites are your parents,” Izuku thought out loud.
“Of course, I’m fuckin right. Probably a vendor or something for the store.” Katsuki’s face was relaxing into his usual scowl and Izuku was fighting staring at his side profile. He just looked so ethereal from Izuku’s angle; the sky was the perfect shade of blue this morning and Katsuki was just enough taller than Izuku that the shadows made beautiful angles on his skin all working together to make him look like a really pissed off angel.
“Maybe,” Izuku heard himself sound a little too dreamy and cleared his throat, “she usually goes to her suppliers but maybe one wants to come to her. That’s kind of nice, I think more people should want to come to dinner with her.”
“She owns a fabric supply store, not a fucking boutique or something. From a business point of view, it makes more sense to have her go and see what she wants rather than try to impress her with their snooty table manners,” Katsuki says practically before sniffing. “Though, I think anyone would benefit from having dinner with Auntie,” he admitted.
“You’re so smart, Kacchan, I still don’t think of things in terms of business. She does make the best stuff in my opinion but I’m biased,” and proud of it.
“You need to get out more, stupid Deku,” Katsuki said and he was more right than he probably knew. Izuku had spent so many years without friends that, when he’d found some in high school, he let himself fall into such a cozy routine and time flew by without him even noticing. Now they were about to graduate and he’d only ever been out of the city once to go on a camping trip with school over the summer.
“You’re right, you’re always right, Kacchan,” Izuku didn’t want to dwell on it right this second though, so he consigned it to his list of things to think about in his first period and tried to turn his tone to a cheery one. “I’m deciding right now that I am going to do more with what is left of this year!”
Katsuki snorted, probably in disbelief, “Yeah, ok, like what?” He was doing that almost smile that Izuku loved to see.
“W-well, um, your band is playing in two weeks, right? I can go to that! And there’s that beach bash the school throws for seniors. That… Might be ok…” He was losing steam very quickly. It’s not that he didn’t want to go and do things! But just the idea of so many people bunched into crowds, everyone being loud and touching on accident. It was overstimulating just thinking about it.
“Don’t do shit you don’t want to, stupid, I’m just saying being so fucking naive is a good way to get people to walk all over you,” Katsuki’s elbow bumped his and Izuku could swear he felt sparks. Ok, maybe it was more of a brush and maybe it was only because they had finally reached the gate of the school, but still. He’s desperate for crumbs here!
As usual, the second they were in school grounds, the Katsuki he had just walked with was replaced by the Katsuki the rest of the school knew. He stopped talking, only grunting in acknowledgment to Izuku or one of their friends if he deemed it worth his energy. His eyes stayed forward and people stayed out of their way as they made a beeline for the lockers.
Before he knew it, his time with Katsuki was over. He broke off without a word towards his own locker, his blonde head bobbing above most of the crowd and meeting with a familiar bright red one about the same height. Izuku repressed a sigh as he found his own locker and made his way to class as quickly as possible, knowing his friends would already be waiting at their desks.
He was two steps away from the door to his classroom when an all too familiar arm shot out with enough force to rattle the nearby corkboard display of freshman photography. Izuku had about two seconds to battle between being annoyed or being anxious before he was tugged backward by his backpack loop and caged in by two people he never enjoyed seeing.
“There’s our favorite fuzz ball,” Shigaraki’s nasally voice gave him goosebumps in a sickly chills sort of way. He always smelled like burnt iron and laundry detergent which oddly complimented his partner in crime, Dabi, who always smelled overwhelmingly like cigarettes and body spray.
“He looks even more organic than usual,” Dabi removed his hand from the wall only to tug on Izuku’s too-long curls. “You got our homework, Broccoli Boy?”
Very original, Izuku has never heard that one before. “I-I do,” Izuku replied, refusing to cower like he might have a few years ago. The only reason, at least the only reason he told himself, that he hadn’t stood up to them totally was because he knew if it wasn’t him, they would just find someone else to pick on.
He tried to take his bag off his shoulders only for Dabi’s hand in his hair to tighten into a fist. Shigaraki got even closer to his face, his smile breaking the flaky skin around his lips.
“Keep it, we’ve decided we have better things to do today than go to class.”
“So we’ll need today’s assignments done, too.”
They leered over him and as always, Izuku fought with the urge to tell them to back off. They hadn’t actually hit him since freshman year but he knew they could and would make his life hell if they really wanted to. Never mind the fact that Dabi was one of his best friend’s brothers, they were both just always willing to do things others might hesitate to.
“O-of course,” they all graduated soon, he would tell them to leave him alone next time. Always next time.
“Such a good boy,” Shigaraki squeezed his cheek a little too hard and Dabi pulled his hair but then they were gone. As far as encounters with them went, that wasn’t so bad. The bad part was when Izuku looked down the hall to check if anyone had seen and he found Katsuki staring at him intently.
Izuku’s face flamed, he must look so pathetic letting those two push him around. Katsuki has always been loud about not letting anything get to him and only respecting those who did the same. He would never let anyone treat him that way.
He spun on his heel and rounded into his class, making it in just before the majority of the class. Ochako, Iida, and Todoroki were right where he knew they’d be. They were watching him the same way Katsuki had been but without the same intensity only Katsuki was capable of.
“Everything ok, Midoriya?” Ochako asked because of course she did. He knew that everyone knew what was happening with the two bullies but he appreciated them never saying much about it. He’d made it clear last year that they were his problem and he’d rather they stayed his problem than them moving on to some poor underclassman.
“Yeah! I’m thinking of getting a haircut this weekend, should I try something new or no?” He held his breath and waited for them to take the bait. Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long. Ochako and Iida jumped on him with statistics of how new haircuts make the wearer feel and what new styles might work for him.
It was an ordinary day, his routine comfortably in place as he stuttered his way through a presentation, finished his math work early, started work on Shigaraki and Dabi’s homework, and found a way to hurt himself when they played racket ball in gym class. Even when they sat down for lunch and Izuku ate his mothers cooking happily, thinking about how Katsuki would be eating the same just a few yards away.
He had to turn down Todoroki’s offer of milk tea and a study session after school but he promised to make it up to him over the weekend. This dinner guest has been niggling at the back of Izuku’s head all day. It was just very strange, his mother never hid things from him so he knew if it was someone he knew or someone she worked with she would probably have just said so.
Anxiety made his stomach ache as he left his friends at the school gate and made his way home at the end of the day. Katsuki was walking a little ahead of him with all of his band members surrounding him and doing most of the talking. Any other day he would have caught up with them, even followed them to Kyoka’s house where they practiced in the garage.
Today, he thought it might be better to keep his distance. He wouldn’t contribute anything to their group right now and he didn’t want to infect them with his nerves. He did still manage to spend most of the walk home staring longingly at Katsuki’s muscular shoulders now that he had his blazer gripped in a fist.
The fabric shop was still open so Izuku went in through the glass doors that opened onto a rainbow of fabrics and sewing supplies and the smell of the dried orange peel sachets his mother hides around the shop.
They had a few hours before dinner, if this day continued to be normal then Izuku would take over for his mother behind the register and she could go rest before making dinner. The second he stepped foot inside, however, he could feel his routine slipping out from between his fingers.
A man in an all-black tracksuit and sunglasses inside stood mostly upright against the front display of patches. “He’s here,” the man said without really raising his voice which made Izuku twice as nervous as to who else might be in the shop.
The man approached him as the door closed behind him and Izuku was feeling caged in within seconds. “My name is Aizawa, you may call me Aizawa. Please give me your backpack,” he stood a respectable distance away and held out his hand expectantly.
Izuku only hesitated for a second but it was long enough for Aizawa to raise an eyebrow above his aviators and say, “I won’t ask again.” He all but flung his bag at the man while he tried to keep his feet from carrying him back outside.
“Welcome home young man!” A man with very long and very bright blond hair shouted from behind the counter and Izuku was suddenly worried for his mother. Neither of these men seemed hostile despite the fact that they both wore all black and Aizawa seemed to be looking for a reason to take him down.
“Um, not to be rude but who are you and where is my mother?” Izuku asked, his nerves getting set to the side for the moment.
“She was in the living room with the big guy the last time I saw. You can call me Yamada, I am the big man’s personal assistant and unofficial head of social media. Aizawa is his driver and bodyguard,” Yamada informed him like he was giving him a cookie but none of that really told him if his mom was ok.
Aizawa seemed to be done with inspecting his bag and picked up on Izuku’s unease before he could voice it, “I’ll take you to them now, they’re expecting you.”
That wasn’t ominous.
Izuku followed on Aizawa’s heels through his own mother’s shop, his own home, his insides feeling an awful lot like confetti on a windy day. Moving through the shop to the store room and out the door that connected the kitchen to the shop everything looked normal, no signs of violence at least. He was probably just being paranoid but that’s what anxiety is good for.
He could hear the sound of his mother's voice and she sounded happy, that breathless kind of giggly that meant she’d been talking too much without taking a proper breath. He felt that fear float away but a hundred other things were waiting to take its place.
They walked into view and Izuku found his mother talking with a very thin, almost sickly well-dressed man he’d never seen before. He radiated good humor and the combination of his mother and this man was almost enough to settle Izuku’s worries.
“Izuku! Honey! Sorry to surprise you like this but I want you to meet someone,” both adults stood, his mother bustling over to him so she could hover nearby.
“It is very nice to finally meet you, Izuku. I don’t know how else to say this so I’ll just come out with it,” the man before him stepped up to him, his bright blue eyes were watery but he was smiling so genuinely Izuku truly wasn’t sure what to expect. “Izuku, I am your father.”
Well, he sure wasn’t expecting that! His feet were considering making a run for it again but his brain caught up just in time.
“Y-you’re m-my f-father?! Wh-what? Wh-why? I’ve only ever heard from you through birthday cards, why are you here now?” He felt proud of himself for getting that point across. He had never really been upset over his lack of father, no one around him had made it seem odd that Izuku’s father wasn’t in the picture. But if this man thought he could just show up now and have any sort of expectations on him, he was mistaken.
“All very good questions. I know this is a lot to take in-” his father started.
“Oh! The cookies should be ready,” his mother fluttered off and looking over his shoulder made Izuku aware of Aizawa still standing a few feet behind him.
“Can we sit, Izuku? Your mother thought you might take this better if we had snacks and she is a smart woman,” his father stepped back and made room for him to choose. Izuku was oddly appreciative that he let him decide. In the end, he complied, sitting stiffly at one end of the couch, never taking his eyes off the man who claimed to be his father.
“How was school, my boy?” Oh, they were doing small talk now??
“Fine… they announced they’re starting a computer club after school…” Izuku pulled out of thin air.
“Very nice! Is that something you’re interested in?”
“No, not really.” Wow, is this how it feels to have a dad? This is awful.
The awkward tension was broken by his mother returning with the cookies she must have made, shortbread doing little for Izuku’s nerves at the moment. He took one anyway, waiting for the explanation he knew was coming.
They sat in silence for a few more tense moments and it took a lot of Izuku’s will not to break it.
“I guess we should just get right down to it then. I’m sorry, Izuku, I really wish there was a manual on how to talk about these kinds of things.” His father took a deep breath and Izuku forced himself to hold his gaze. “Have you ever heard of a man named Toshinori Yagi?”
“No…”
“He is the king of the small but mighty Nabu Island, have you heard of Nabu Island?” Izuku was trying very hard not to get annoyed at all the random questions.
“I think… that’s one of the islands between Japan and Australia…”
“Correct! Very good, my boy! Well, without further ado, I would like you to meet Toshinori Yagi,” his father held out his hand, as if in greeting, but Izuku’s brain was frozen. Manners caught up to him before his mouth could and he found himself shaking the man’s hand without really meaning to.
“You’re Toshinori Yagi?” Toshinori nodded. “You’re my father?” Toshinori nodded again. “And you’re… a king…?”
“I know it’s a lot to take in and we had planned to do this differently but I don’t think it would be wise to wait any longer, but we can discuss that some other time…” King Toshinori, HIS FATHER, trailed off. Probably noticing the glazed look in his eyes.
“B-but… I-if all that is true then… that would make me…” He couldn’t even think it let alone say it. It was like his brain had created a danger zone around the stupid word complete with flashing lights and traffic cones. “...Fuck off!” That was strangely involuntary.
“Excuse me?” His king father looked suddenly mortified and a little hurt.
“He doesn’t mean anything by that! His best friend has a mouth like a sailor, Izuku really never usually-” his mom rescued and the king was already nodding in understanding.
“OH oh I completely understand, I know this must come as a shock,” were Izuku’s gaping mouth and bugging eyes your first hint? “Originally, we planned to tell you after you turned eighteen and, while I know that particular birthday is coming up this year, some unforeseen developments have forced my hand.”
“Forced your hand?” Yes, good Izuku, just repeat the last thing he said and maybe one day your brain will work again.
“And besides, this way we can have some time to get to know each other while I begin teaching you the basics of ruling before we eventually move you, and your mother, if she’s willing, to Nabu Island,” father Toshinori, was smiling so brightly it suddenly hurt to look at him.
Izuku looked at his hands, keenly aware of all three adults watching him, “Look, this is a huge h-honor… I guess… but I am not the kind of person anyone would want running anything,” he found himself whispering like it was a secret or something. He swallowed, feeling his heart rate spike anew, “I-I can’t even captain the baseball team in gym class. I-I stutter and trip over my own feet and have been doing the same things so consistently over the last three years that the flower shop owner on the corner literally sets her clock by me!” Great, now he was shouting.
“It’s not about wanting or not wanting, my boy, this is your birthright. Trust me, the best rulers start off as someone who believes they aren’t worthy. I can teach you everything you need to know and prepare you for every situation.” He was talking far too rationally for Izuku’s frantic, confetti feelings.
“Stop! Stop talking like this is a thing that's going to actually happen! I’m not someone who can just do great things! I’m nobody and I’m good at it!” He stood, his fight or flight kicking into full gear, “You all but ignore me for seventeen years and show up and drop this on me? No matter who you are, I am not a prince!”
He finally let his feet carry him out the nearest exit. He was running before he even reached the front door, throwing off his blazer at the door and just going. His lizard brain was in control now, doing the bare minimum to keep him upright and moving.
He passed the flower shop on the corner, passed the food cart that was only open after 3 pm, and passed the arcade he and Katsuki used to take their quarters in elementary school. He found himself on another familiar street, the houses tall and narrow and very modern. Without actually consulting his conscience self, his feet had led him to Kyoka’s neighborhood.
He could hear his friends before he could see the open garage and oh gods! Was he so far gone that he sought out Katsuki without even thinking about it?? There was no way he was stopping. He shoved his mortification down as the beat of the dumbs picked up, getting louder and faster and spurring him on.
Izuku looked straight ahead when he passed the open garage, the sound of the band obviously still warming up their instruments was strangely grounding but he still hoped he had been fast enough they hadn’t noticed. Something he failed at and knew it immediately when the music came to a clattering halt. Things crashed in the garage before he heard a few confused “Midoriya?”s and one shout of “Deku!”.
He still didn’t stop. Thinking a bit more now after that mortifying incident, he set a destination and let his feet carry him there. The park that stood as a backdrop to many of his favorite childhood memories came into view after an undetermined amount of time. It wasn’t far from the apartment but he had needed to get some of his feelings out and took a winding route to get there leaving him panting and weak-kneed by the time he finally slouched onto the rubber seated swing.
Izuku knew he would need to go back eventually. Face everything he’d just run from. But not right now. Right now he was going to let the breeze and scent-memory of rubber and woodchips help settle his raw nerves. Right now, he wasn’t going to even consider the future. His present needed all of his attention as far as he was concerned.