Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Things change.

Izuku Midoriya, unfortunately, had to learn this early on. Starting off, his life was ideal. He would spend everyday outside playing with Katsuki wresting and playing tag, scraping knees and staining their clothes with the grass. Their parents would watch them from a distance, eventually having to drag them inside to eat and rest. Inko would dote over him and Bakugo, constantly giving them snacks and new game ideas. With most of their parents working nine to five, Masaru was the only one able to watch them during the work days.

Katsuki and Izuku. Izuku and Katsuki. Playing heroes, wearing their dad’s shoes and pillow case capes. Life was nice, something Izuku didn’t know until it was too late…

“Quirkless.” The doctor said with a monotone. It felt like a lashing to Izuku.

He froze and his breath hitched. His father had mentioned quirkless people saying how they weren’t as “evolved” as everyone else. Remembering a story his father told him about how a quirkless man would go to his work every day, and each day without fail, only accomplished half of the other workers. Afterwards he explained how Quirkless were the most vile members of society-essentially animals to be manipulated.

Was Izuku like that? He looked to his mom for some hope, but she looked just as shocked, staring straight at the doctor as if he could change Izuku’s quirk status.

What is dad gonna say?

Little Izuku starts to stir from his stupor realizing he dropped his All Might action figure at some point, picking it up with a sober expression. It looked at him funny. All Might’s face burned into his eyes, judging him. But he can still be like All Might right? Quirk or no quirk, as the hero always says, “Anyone can be a hero!”

He considered it a bit more as Inko discussed it further with the doctor and transitioned to the silent car ride home. Izuku felt like he was wading through molasses. He untied his shoes and walked towards his room. His father had seen him and tried to speak with a soft smile, but was quickly cut off by his wife. He looked towards her with a questioning look as she slumped onto the couch waiting for the boy to be gone to fill her husband in.

The young Midoriya sulked and turned on old All Might videos with tears streaming down his face. Maybe in another universe his mother would have gone to comfort him, but that is not this universe. Instead Izuku hears the rising of voices in the adjacent room. His parents were arguing; they never did that. The boy’s head turned to look at his door hoping and praying someone would pull him out of this pit of despair, but no one did.

The arguing grew louder and a yelling match had begun to get too hard to drown out.

This is my fault…

His parents were fighting over him and all he wanted was for the doctor to pop out and say, ‘Whoops! I was all wrong!’ That didn’t happen. The shouts were growing louder and the boy couldn’t ignore it anymore. Slowly, he crept over and cracked his door open to peer through. His father was towering over Inko, spitting small flames as he yelled with pure anger.

“I CANT BELIEVE YOU GAVE ME A FUCKING QUIRKLESS!!” he bellowed. “There’s nothing he can do in his future now, no one hires those little shits!” Hisashi’s eyes tracked around the room and quickly landed on Izuku, a snarl quickly forming across his face. He rushed across the room not giving little Izu any time to react, kicked open the door, and grabbed him harshly by the upper arm.

“Look at him, he’s under-evolved! It would just be best if we got rid of him at a fire station or some shit.” Hisashi yanked the boy into the living room, making him stumble and making Izuku wonder if his arm might tear off. Tears still watered down his small face and he looks over to his mother with a terrified look on his face. Hisashi is also looking at Inko, his look however, is almost begging her to get rid of their only son with smoke trailing out of his nose and hands threatening to break the boy in his grasp.

“M-mama, plea-” Izuku tries to beg for some help, but is cut off by his father who glowers down at him.

“SHUT UP, YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO SPEAK!” Hisashi places a second hand on the boy’s shoulder in a bone crushing grip. The child yelps in pain, his legs crumpling below him. The grip however, maintains itself, holding the boy up. “The only time you should ever even speak is if we say you can,” his father spits.

Inko’s eyes are darting around the room, clearly torn between her son and her husband. her mouth is gaping open, not sure what to say. Her heart is racing in her chest, afraid of her husbands wrath. She knew however, this could not continue.

“Hisashi, put him down,” her vision welling with tears,” this kid might be quirkless but he still needs our love and support. I will not… no…I cannot abandon him.” She knew what she was doing. Her husband’s face shifted, realizing that she wasn’t going to budge. Her heart broke, she knew what was going to happen. The mans shoulders minutely slumped as he realized what he was about to do.

“Fine. You can have this worthless piece of shit, but I wont be a part of it. Don’t come to me if you need help. Whatever happens, it’s on you.” Izuku’s father finally lets go of him, shoving him onto the floor at Inko’s feet, and storms out of the house not looking back.

Izuku is dazed at everything going on and slowly pushes himself off of the floor, crawling to his mother. Inko gently grabs him and wraps him into a hug, both bursting into tears and mourning their lost husband and father.

The mother wants to think she made a good decision, that her boy needs her and it was the right thing to do. However, as she sits there crying she cant help but wonder if she made the right decision. The uncertainty scares her and she hugs her son tighter.

A few days passed and Izuku was still waiting. He waited for many things. For his quirk to miraculously come in, for his father to come back, and for his mother to look at him. The house felt so empty even though Hisashi left all his stuff behind.

Maybe, the young boy considered, that means he’s coming back soon.

In the wait for his father, he had looked up common quirk activation requirements and been trying them endlessly. one after another and nothing was working, nothing inside him seemed to stir.

What if it doesn’t work?

The boy was in a constant loop of denying his quirklessness, attempting to activate his quirk, and having small breakdowns when nothing was working. What if mom leaves too?

His mother? In a similar state of denial, though she never said this out loud, she was starting to regret her decision. Her and Hisashi had been through life together, college, their first house, the loss of relatives, one miscarriage…

She didn’t know how she was going to move forward without him. She was scared, so for now, she hid. She refused to leave the house, doing the bare minimum to keep her and her son alive and relatively well. This means she made meals and called the two of them out of work and preschool.

Everywhere she looked was the remnants of her life that was perfect up until 2 days ago. Family photos, her wedding ring, and a son that completed their unit of love. She couldn’t even look at the boy now. Every time she tried she would remember why the love of her life will never come back. What’s worse is the child keeps asking ‘when daddy will be home.’ Does he think it’s funny? Inko sucks her teeth. Children are dumb after all, they don’t understand.

Especially quirkless children.

She slowly rolls out of bed, the clock reading 3pm. Had she really been in bed all day? Her eyes were puffy and red from crying. She slowly shuffled across the house into the kitchen making some food for herself, vaguely remembering to make some for Izuku.

The boy quietly shuffled into the kitchen with his head bowed low and sat to eat his dinner(lunch?). Inko, for the first time in the past few days, looked directly at her son. Something broke looking at him in that moment. Maybe she was expecting a great feeling of pride for standing up for her baby, but all she felt was a void in her chest. Wasn’t she supposed to feel some sort of affection for her own son? At this realization she became disgusted with herself.

“Izuku,” The cold voice of his mother jolted the young boy out of his racing thoughts. He slowly looked up to meet her eyes boring into him. She goes to point at a small cabinet next to the pantry, “Grab me a bottle from that cabinet.” He had never been allowed to open that cabinet, told it was dangerous and he shouldn’t be climbing the counters to get to it in the first place. Now? he had to prove to his mother he wasn’t useless and scrambled to grab whatever the bottle was as fast as he could.

She never even seemed to flinch as he walked past her and brought over a chair to get to the top cabinet. His mother never bothered to even watch him climb the counter she had constantly yelled at him to never climb just a few days ago. Slowly, he stood on the chair, confirming it wouldn’t wobble under his weight and opened the cabinet.

Inside were many glass bottles of tea looking liquid. Carefully, he got down the way he came and safely made it back down to the solid kitchen floor. His mom was holding out her now empty cup from dinner. Prompting the boy to unscrew the cap and pour it. She let him know when to stop, “Take a sip if you want to,” she prompted. The boy looked over at her, not sure if he should or not. Not wanting to make his mother any more upset, he slowly poured some into his cup as well, setting the bottle down onto the table. He flicked his eyes to his mother across the table who seemed to have gone back to not looking at him any more. Little Izuku brought the cup to his lips and took a small sip.

“AUGHH!-” this liquid tasted nothing like tea and burned his throat. His exclamation was quickly cut off by a series of coughs as he clutched his throat. His mother was watching now, sipping her own cup, unwavering in her blank stare.

Almost like the situation had confirmed something in her, she quietly got up, leaving the dishes where they were on the table, and walked back to her room. Not before grabbing her rum on her way back to her bedroom.

A few days later and Izuku was finally back into school. Mom wasn’t the same anymore though. At least now she looked at him, but it always felt like she was looking through him, so he wasn’t sure if that was any better. After that night she had asked him to grab it from the cabinet, Inko had been drinking a lot of the gross tea.

‘Maybe its helping?’ the young boy thought.

She even told him the way to get to school and refused to drive him anymore, claiming he was old enough and a ‘big boy’ now.

Beyond everything going on at home though, he was looking forward to the day. He gets to play with Katsuki and pretend, just for now, that everything was back to normal…

Chapter Text

Today was a big day. For the first time in forever, Inko was out of the house before her son. The youngest Midoriya had been counting down the days for his mother’s newest job interview at the hospice center. If she got it, things would be changing for the best. Maybe she would actually start caring, even if not for Izuku, at least for herself. The boy rolls out of his bed for his most relaxing morning from the past few years.

First, the eight year old jumps out of bed and whips up some quick eggs and toast and quickly gets dressed. His excitement is radiating and he heads to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Looking into the mirror he sees his tuft of curls that need desperate care, pale skin, dusty freckles, and light and fading scars peeking out from underneath his sleepshirt. Normally he doesn’t notice them, but momma always makes sure to remind him to cover them up when he’s getting ready for the day.

As part of his morning routine, he covers the few that peek out with concealer. The stories behind them reminding him everyday that nothing lasts forever. His hands tremble as he tussles with his hair. Anxiety and excitement courses through him as the two possibilities of the day:

the first being that he goes to school, gets shoved around, comes home and his mom might start caring at least a little again.

the second being that he goes to school, gets shoved around, comes home and his mom is angry and worse than that time he got detention.

But… the second option happens a lot more often than the first, so the small chance of change is overwhelmingly exciting. Maybe Inko could even try to quit drinking again and they can go back to their old life. ‘*Maybe that’s too much to ask…’* the third grader wonders, ‘*maybe she’ll just go back to ignoring me.’* He grins a wide toothy grin, and finishes getting ready for this school day. He practically skips out of the door; locking it behind him and wearing his favorite red high tops he scrounged just enough money to buy for himself.

He shakes off the last of the early jitters as he approaches his elementary school for the day. Slowly, his expression drops and he lowers his head as he starts to avoid the other students also heading into the school.He can’t get ahead of himself. First he needs to get through school to celebrate his mom’s new job and successful interview. He drags his feet to the classroom labeled 3-2, inside, red eyes bore into him and a small group of girls burst into laughter the moment they spot him. At least he can predict what his **peers** will do or say.

He quickly gets to his desk as the teacher reprimands him for not getting to his seat quick enough. ‘*But class hasn’t even started yet..*’ He slings his bag onto his desk hooks and slouches down into his chair with his head resting on his arm. Class starts and the teacher drones on with his lesson…

---

The midday bell rings and the entire class excitedly jumps out of their chairs. Izuku however, flinches and not long after, is being dragged by the collar of his shirt to the back of the playground behind the enclosed slide and a divider wall. This spot has been tried and tested by his classmates as the perfect spot to misbehave. Almost every day, Izu gets dragged there and made fun of my the majority of who feels like it for that day. Katsuki, however is a regular attender.

Today must not be the best day already as Kacchan does something new. He uses his quirk on him.

“You’re just a stupid little deku, get it dekkuuu?”, the blonde taunting him in the end.

In the past there was typically small smacks or shoves, but today? Kacchan opens his palms and aims as well as he can for the green haired child’s head with his quirk. Even after little Izu is lying on the floor, a few kicks make their way to his stomach.

*It’s ok,* he thinks, *it’s probably my fault…it usually is.* Maybe the young Midoriya had done more muttering than usual today, snored too loud in class, or… something. No way Kacchan would do that if Izuku didnt do something wrong. He’s going to be a great hero one day and as Izuku knows by now, he’ll probably just get in the way… but he can still dream.

---

Izuku’s day had been so hard, but it was all going to be worth it when he came home and his mom was able to love him again. He quietly snuck into his own home, looking at the shoes at the front door, his mom wasn’t back yet. Not a good sign. His anxiety increased. The longer his mom was out, the more likely she was going to come home drunk. When momma usually came home drunk she would hurt Izu.

Fear was beginning to creep in, but he calmed himself by reminding that the day wasn't over yet. He hastened to complete his homework before she could walk through the door.

---

BANG! The boy hears the front door slam open and he listens carefully to his mother’s footsteps. They were light and swift. His mom was in a good mood, this was a good sign!

Izu’s heart flutters with excitement as he rushes towards his bedroom door, peering through the crack. Inko is standing in the living room humming and preparing cooking utensils. Her mood is reminiscent of morning light filtering through his bedroom window- gentle and kind.

“Boy! Come over here to set up the table,” she chirped.

The 8 year old quickly bounds out of his room, swiftly preparing the set up to the exact way his mother likes it.

He is determined to make this a perfect night. His mother was kind enough to cook for both of them tonight, he must do everything he can to keep her mood in pristine condition.

*I can’t afford to get hurt tonight…*

In the previous afternoon, Inko had gone a bit far with her beatings, her pent up anxiety for this upcoming interview spilling out. The boy hopes she got enough out to last him another few days… *at least until the new job makes her happy again.*

“So, Boy, how was your day at school?” his mother inquired with fake interest. She knew her son was coming home with new bruises. She knew he had no friends and she knew his grades were barely passing.

The younger lowered his head as he sat down at the table, sliding his chair in, avoiding eye contact. “U-um, it- it was good! How was yours?” he replied quickly.

Pleased, the plump lady slammed the fresh hot meal down onto the table and exclaimed. She plated herself and in between bites, responded. “Oh it was wonderful! I felt so refreshed this morning! After stopping down at that boutique around the corner, I got all dolled up and went in for that interview at that hospital i was telling you about yesterday. Do you remember?” She mocked, “ And well, they seemed very ecstatic to move forward with my application! They made many comments on my resume and how they enjoyed my ‘thoughtful energy’. Oh boy, do you know what this could mean? It means that I could finally move forward with this shitty life.” Her eyes stared off into the distance as if everything she needed in life was just beyond that horizon.

As his mother continuing to chatter about her excitement, the frail boy stayed silent as he ate. His mind turning cogs, and the uncertainty of the outcome making him feel on edge…

Chapter Text

Ok, maybe Izuku had been too excited last week. Maybe he didn’t know how adult interviews worked, and maybe he thought all adults got hired on the spot. The slight tremble of uncertainty that began last week has slowly increased, causing tremors to radiate throughout his home.

The first day after the interview, Inko still seemed pretty jovial, still humming, cooking dinner, and offering fake conversation. The third day, she had started to become irritated, stopped cooking, and became more and more impatient with the speed and efficiency of things Izuku typically had no issues with.Yesterday, the sixth day, Izuku ended up dry heaving on the bathroom floor from his mother’s “special concoction. “

Today, the young boy hopes and prays that his mother will get some kind, hell any kind of response from the hiring manager. Honestly, even a message just saying, “Hey, we’re still looking over all the applicants!” would answer Izuku’s prayers.

He dashed out of his home this morning and was now in his last class for the day watching the clock tick down. Each tick it made weighed down his hope, crushing his resilience. Dreadfully, the bell shrieked announcing his death sentence return home.

He dashed out of the room, probably forgetting a utensil or two in favor of avoiding another mini gang attack from his classmates. He wasn’t fast enough.

“Hey Deku, where the fuck do you think you’re going? It’s Friday, don’t you wanna come and hang out with us?” Bakugo yelled across the hall. “I mean, we got something we wanna show you.” Gesturing to his lackeys, Fingers and Wings, with a sly grin on his face.

“Yea Deku, come with us!” Wings cooly strode over, grabbing him by his collar and dragging him over to the blonde who slung his arm around the back of his neck.

Watching them snicker around him, he lost hope to running or escape and followed them towards the side of the building…

A few bruises later and some humiliation he would probably never mention again, he was finally left alone. It was too much today, but Izuku figured he would conveniently dissociate forget about it like most of the shit he got into.

Either way, he trembled as he stood and trudged home, trying to maintain as much strength as he could. His clothes were torn up, back exposed, and his face was scratched up from fingers testing out his quirk. Normal kids would probably feel some relief in going home after an experience like that. Izuku? His dread just grew, and grew, and grew until he was stopped at his front door.

Mom’s gonna see me like this, she’s gonna lose her shit.

The young boy recalled what happened the night before and shuddered, he can’t even imagine how she might react. Izuku considered just running away and hiding, but where would he go?

He was 8 years old still learning his basic multiplication tables. There was no way he could survive, and once he inevitably would return, the punishment would be severe. maybe that was a thought better kept in his dreams.

Bracing himself, and as quietly as possible, he turns the knob and races towards his bedroom, hoping he’s not seen. Silently praying some God would give him mercy and grant him an invisibility quirk for those 3 seconds… Unfortunately his god was a cruel god.

“BOY! GET OVER HERE NOW!” Inko screamed from her bedroom, using her quirk to throw various items towards him.

Ice ran through his veins. Throwing his book bag down onto the floor, he raced to his mother’s doorframe, not wanting to make things worse by making her wait.

“WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO THE SCHOOL UNIFORM I JUST BOUGHT?” she screeched as a hairbrush and nail clippers struck on his exposed back, “I don’t pay to put your useless ass through school for you to ruin it! You were home late. I’ve been fucking out of my drink waiting for you to get back.”

She stomped over from her closet, reaching out and yanking her son by his hair. Nails digging into his scalp, drawing blood, she dragged him into the kitchen while yelling.

“FIRST I LOSE A JOB BECAUSE OF YOUR QUIRKLESS ASS, ‘why were you fired from your last job Ms. Midoriya?’” she mocked the interviewer in a shrill voice,”I WOULDNT HAVE LOST MY JOB IF YOU WERENT SUCH A NUISANCE, MAKING ME DRINK EVERY NIGHT JUST TO LIVE WITH YOU!” She launches him forward, tossing him onto the kitchen floor, tears already streaming down his face. The boy looking up at her in terror.

The boy. He had no name to her. She wasn’t sure when she stopped considering him her son. Maybe when she found out he was under evolved, or maybe it was over time…All she knows is that he isn’t human. Not anymore. He has no identity, he was just a pet that she didn’t want anymore. Something- no longer a someone.

“Don’t look at me like that, “ she whined in disgust, “stand up.” The boy continued to look up at her, stunned in place like a baby deer.

“FUCKING STAND UP!” she screamed. The young one scrambled to his feet as his mother reeled her arm back.

*SMACK*

“next time i tell you to do something, do it when i fucking say it,” she spat as the boy nodded, profusely apologizing, nose trickling blood. After a beat she grumbles out, “Rum.”

The Boy finally moves from his standing position, scrambling up, he teeters from a chair like he had done for years now, retrieving her favorite brand. But Inko was impatient. “Give it here,” she reaches up to grab it from him as he hastily hands it down and she takes a quick swig. “Fucking finally.”

And then… a thought…

What if i didn’t have to deal with this shit stain anymore?… what if it was that…easy.

This was not a foreign thought to Inko, but it was right in front of her. Her son was basically begging her to do it, teetering so uncontrollably…

All in one motion, Izuku’s life changed.

Chapter Text

The boy waded in and out of the waters of consciousness. There were times when he reached as far as possible, barely making ripples on the surface- twitching and hearing his surroundings, but not quite waking up. Then he would sink deeper and be dragged away.

It was summer sometime before everything…

Momma was in the kitchen, trying new recipes while Izuku and Kacchan played in the yard. Masaru volunteered to watch them while they tied pillowcases around their necks and played heroes.

Young Izuku was so fun, so free… He openly smiled and exuded happiness with all his actions.

“Izu! Baby come on in and try this for me?” his mother called him inside.

He perks up and runs over, the rest of the world melting behind while he can’t wait to meet her eyes. Excitement building in his chest as she holds her arms out, love exuding her presence…

This didn’t make sense, what was going on? Vaguely he heard his mother speaking as he reached for the surface yet again…

“M-mom?” he croaks out.

He looks around, the world coming into focus with his mother and a doctor quietly discussing something.

Inko had scratch marks all across her face and a bandage on her arm.

How did she get those?

Both the doctor and his mother shot him looks. Inko’s eyes- filled with disgust and anger, the doctor’s- one of concern and trepidation. As the doctor looked back at the woman her expression quickly snapped into one of fear.

“Ms. Midoriya, I understand how this may be for you. Can you wait outside while I look over your… son?”

Fake tears welled in her eyes, “Y-yes, I think that would be appropriate.” She quickly scurried out of the room, subtly shooting a glare toward the boy as she passed through the doorway.

The young boy was confused by her behavior. Normally he would expect her to not care about his well-being. Something was off…

The doctor turned to face him, telegraphing all his movements as if he were dealing with a wild animal. The boy carefully watched him as he sat in a chair across the room, silently hoping he would notice the scars and connect the dots.

The doctor sternly spoke,” Midoriya, do you remember what happened before you got to this hospital?”

The 8-year-old thought he would never ask, and began to recall the events as fast as possible.

“T-t-therrrrre w-waaaasss-“ the boy stopped. His eyes grew wide and fear filled his mind. His tongue wasn’t working! When he spoke it felt like his mouth was filled with peanut butter.

He wanted to tell the doctor so badly what had happened. He was finally free of his mother and could get help.

The doctor looked at him with great concern, “Midoriya, can you speak? Try if you think you can.”

The boy hurriedly spoke again,”I-I-Iee dooontttth unnnderrrsthhanddd…”

Good god, he sounded like he was eating jello and drunk and high out of his mind.

The green child quickly began to panic, What’s wrong with me??? Why can’t I speak?

The doctor’s eyebrows raised and he quickly excused himself after informing Izuku they would try to figure this out.

His mother never went back into the room, and he was alone. Alone when he did an MRI scan, alone when testing reflexes, alone when getting the news…

He was back in his hospital room. The sheets had been changed, and the doctor had a serious tone.”It appears that from the blow, you developed some brain damage.”

The boy sent a questioning look, scared to speak. He felt fine, he didn’t feel crazy or any different than before. Other than the speech and his overall control of his body. should there be something wrong with his body if it wasn’t working right? How did he have brain damage?

The doctor understood what he was asking and responded,” This type of brain damage is called ataxia. It happens when you sustain damage to your cerebellum or the back of your head. That part of your brain controls things like balance, muscle coordination and control, and fine motor control.” The doctor paused to check on the boy who listened to every word.

Continuing,” We haven’t seen how extensive the symptoms will be until we test it, but at the moment it appears mild in motor skills and severe with speech.”

Looking down, the boy quietly nodded as the doctor continued to ramble about physical and speech therapy.

How am I ever going to be a hero now?

Tears welled in his eyes as he began to shudder and break down. His sobs swiftly cut the doctor off.

"Midoriya, please understand that this condition can improve over time," the doctor assured. "I have no doubt you'll be able to overcome this."

“I will let you rest for now, but please note that someone will stop by later to take your statement on what happened to you.” The doctor paused.” I know them well and they are very patient, please try to speak with them.”

With that, the doctor left the young boy to his thoughts…

Hours had passed and the young boy had been practicing his speech. Every word came out like he had just swallowed molasses.

It had gotten lonely. No one came to check on him, no way to fully communicate. The boy was sad constantly, and he couldn’t even cry. For some reason that emotional release was too far out of reach, so he ached.

Eventually, someone did come into the room…

He was a very unassuming man. His hair was short and dark brown, he looked tired and was dressed in a trench coat. Confirming that he was speaking to Izuku Midoriya, he began taking his statement.

“Hello, I am Detective Tsukiachi from the Musufastu Police Department. Can I ask you a few recorded questions about the night of September 14th?”

The boy nodded his head and quickly croaked out a slurred yes. then the detective settled down, pulled out a recording device, and hit play.

“This is detective Tsukiachi interviewing Izuku Midoriya for case number 000112376. Please state your name and age for the record.” He nodded at the boy.

“Eeeiizzzzuuukuu M-meeedidoorriyyah. Eiigght” He was so nervous that all the speech practice he did went down the drain.

“Midoriya has sustained an injury that affects his speech, I will be asking mainly yes or no questions for this interview. At this point, I would like to disclose that my quirk is called Lie Detector, and I will be able to tell if you are or are not telling the truth.” Pausing he checked on the young boy.

The boy nodded his head and they continued.

Tsukiachi asked,” Now, Izuku, do you remember what happened that night?”

“Y-yesss” he squeaked out.

“Are you aware of the allegations against you?” The detective asked.

The boy’s eyes went wide,” N-Noo, wh-what?”

Tsukiachi paused and quickly informed the young boy of his case.

“On September 14, it is our understanding, based on your mother’s report to the officers on the scene, that you had attacked her. She claims that you had gotten upset with her over dinner and began to scratch at and throw things at her from which she defended herself and threw you off her. She sustained many lacerations to her arms and neck. Her alleged retaliation also caused significant brain damage to you.” The detective paused, noting down the boy’s reaction.

The young greenette in question looked horrified at the accusations. Tears well in his eyes as he realizes what is happening.

“Is this true?” Tsukiachi questioned.

“NO,nnno, aaabbssssollutelyyy nnnott,” the boy cried out.

True the older man’s quirk rang. Silently Tsukiachi realized he was in a much deeper investigation than he first thought. This kid had been gravely injured by his mother, and it likely wasn’t the first time she had hurt him.

The tone of the interview quickly pivoted from a dangerous child to a child abuse case.

The detective continued to ask questions.

“Did your mom cause your head injury?”

“Y-Yes”

True

“Did you attack your mother?”

“Nnno”

True

“Do you think your mom caused your head injury on purpose?”

“Yes”

True

“I am going to show you a picture from the scene, can you- with gestures and pointing, or words if you can- try to explain how she injured you?”

Tsukiachi swiftly displayed a lineup of scene photos for Izuku to sort through, featuring different parts of the home.

“K-k-kiiiitchhenn” the young boy croaked.

Tsukiachi quickly took away all the other pictures to focus on the kitchen.

The child shakily pointed out a chair lying on the floor. “I ooon chhaairrr. rrr-rrr-“Frustrated, the boy tried again,”r-reeachinggg forrr mm-mommas bottttlllle.” The boy pointed to a cabinet on the top shelf.

Tsukiachi had further photos confirming this was the one holding Inko Midoriya’s bourbon and various other alcohol bottles.

“Sh-shee kk-kk-“Again the boy was frustrated but determined to continue,”kkickeddd the chhaaiirr. Eii fellll.”

The boy gestured to his head.

Tsukiashi was angry. He understood what the 8-year-old was trying to tell him. Not just because of this kid's condition, but because every word rang True.

Inko Midoriya was going to face his wrath...

Chapter Text

The interview with Tsukiachi was yesterday. The man seemed angry when he left and Izuku wasn’t sure what to do now. His life had been basically shattered right in front of him. He might be going to jail, and even if he doesn’t, his mother will make sure he never lives to see the day he can escape.

Izuku’s vision becomes obscured while tears begin to form. His head swirled with anxiety, absentmindedly biting his lips. everyone probably believes her too, she’s always so good at crafting her mask. The gates are set free and the young boy sobs with hot fear filled tears streaming down his face.

The detective seemed nice enough, but honestly- who’s going to believe the dumb Quirkless child over a sweet motherly nurse? He vaguely registers tugging on his own hair. Open and shut case, she says he did it and Izuku will rot away forever.- RIIIIIPP-His life is ruined! How will he ever become a hero?…

His lip is bleeding, when did he do that?

And his eyes wander to the bruises on his arms.

*She’s going to be so mad….*

Despair coursed through his veins. His head pounded. Every possible outcome and punishment swirling through his mind.— RIIIPPP— Izuku also wouldn’t put it past her to simply drop all charges and silently drag him back into that house, never to be heard from again.

Wow his head **really** hurt now. He pulls his shaking hand away from his hair, now coated in blood. This is what sends the boy over the edge.

He yowls in horror and more cries of desperation begin to claw their way out of his throat. He pulls his bloody hands close to his chest and curls into a ball as the pain in his head begins pounding. The pain makes its way into his throat as agonizing screams are heard throughout the hospital. It beats him down relentlessly and Izuku wonders what he did to deserve this.

Finally, nurses and doctors rush in to see what is going on to find the boy writhing in pain on his bed. Blood seemingly coming from all around his head, nose, and eyes. They get to work trying to figure out what’s wrong, sedating him and administering morphine. His last thought was that he was grateful he didn’t need to be awake for the rest of this nightmare…

The next day-

Izuku comes to slowly. The piercing beep of machines around him already annoying the crap out of him. Opening his eyes to the plain hospital white ceilings.

He is relieved when he doesn’t feel any pain and sluggishly starts to move his limbs as best he can. Nothing hurts. confidence takes over and Izuku and he fully sits up. If not a bit dizzy he feels almost completely fine.

He hears a startled noise and whips his head around to see Tsukiachi swiftly pressing a button by the boys bed and sitting back down.

“Thank god you’re awake.” He spoke with relief. “ I was beginning to get worried… How’re you feeling kid?”

Izuku’s perpetual quivering hands reach up to rub at his face. “P-pretty gh-ghood! Devinitely m-much better t-than beforrrre.” He shivered with the phantom pain of his head seemingly splitting.

“H-owe isssth my m-mom?” He inquired. Hoping to all gods he can just hide in the hospital forever.

A dark expression took over the detective that was quickly replaced by a weak smile, “Yesterday me and a few other officers collected the final evidence and arrested her.”

Shock takes over the young boy and his mouth is left gaping. Not once in a million years did he ever think that anyone would’ve  *arrested* his ~~torturer~~ mother. Relief radiates through his body as his shoulders slump and  his sweaty hands unclench.

…He’s free.

And as Father Time seemingly doesn’t waste a second, their attention is quickly drawn away to the nurse and doctor that quietly shuffle in.

“Young Izuku, how amazing it is to see you doing so much better!” The doctor exclaims.

They both seem to be jittery with excitement, very contrary to the current circumstances of this boys life.

The green one is quickly on edge, “w-what hhaaappened to meee?”

The doctor and nurse both seem to get even more spastic, hurriedly inquiring,” young boy, have you ever heard of a force manifested quirk? Sometimes people also call it a stress quirk?”

Tsukiachi’s eyebrows shoot up, and he snaps his head at the boy.

“…Noo?” Izuku cautiously looks back up to see them basically foaming at the mouth with excitement.

___

After a long explanation of force manifested quirks, why they happen, and how they are different, Izuku started to understand. There are 3 classes of quirks:

- B class are the typical quirks that are very simple to use with not much room to grow, making up about 60% of the population.
- A class are more dangerous quirks that are more difficult to control, with lots of potential to grow. They make up about 15% of the population
- S class are the most dangerous quirks, it usually takes extreme amounts of effort for the user to control, they usually have lots of room to grow and a much higher threshold of power. These take up approx. 5% of the population.

Most with a force manifested quirk end up with A class, but it has harsh drawbacks because it wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place.

The doctors had explained that they had a quirk specialist visit him while he was unconscious and handed him the report:

---

Patient Name: Midoriya Izuku

ID number: 00045873

Age: 8 years old

Sex: Male

Weight: 45 lbs.

Quirk Name: Unknown

Quirk Class: S

---

… Izuku’s eyes went wide, “S C-Class?”

looking up, he saw the doctor give him an excited nod .

They gesture to keep going, so he hummed and continued.

---

Description:

This is a Telekinesis type quirk that is very easily activated, contrary to typical S class quirks. The offset of this, however is the amount of power it can release. Putting numbers on this, I’ve found that without any training or quirk therapy, he is able to lift no more than about 5 times his bodily ability.

His current weight sitting at 45 lbs., this puts him at being able to lift approx. 100 lbs. I have no doubt that as he grows and becomes more healthy this ability will grow exponentially, potentially capping at about 2,000 lbs. in adulthood with consistent therapy.

Drawbacks of overuse include migraines, headaches, nose bleeds, and vertigo.

This quirk easily uses too much force, and I very much stress quirk therapy to help him learn to fine tune it and use it delicately.

Recommendations:

- Quirk Training at least once every two weeks
- Individual Training exercises at least once every other day
- Maintaining healthy bodily weight and fitness to allow for easier control
- Provided an emergency quirk canceling arm band to be used during loss of control

---

Tears quietly dropped onto the pristine paper, bleeding the ink. He had a quirk… and it was powerful. It was rare. It was… hers. Disgustedly, his hands clenched, crumpling and creasing some of the paper in the process. The boy’s other hand coming up to rub the increasing tears away as he hunched over and pulled his knees up to hide his face in embarrassment. He knows he’s not supposed to cry, but he can’t seem to stop himself right now.

The two medical professionals squawked at his reaction and quickly started asking what was wrong. Their concern showing easily, as they approach him from across the room. Tsukiachi doing something similar, carefully standing up from his chair to comfort him. Noticing the approaching figures, he lets go of the paper and puts his hands up to protect his sensitive head now full on breaking down.

He panics, begging with them, “I-Imm sssorrry! I-I’m S-sorryyy, p-pleassse s-stop, I-I’ll sstop c-c-c-AGGH- cryinggg, I-I’ll sstop, , I’llll sstop…”

This stops the adults in their tracks as they quickly withdraw their hands that reach out to comfort the boy. Quickly backing away as they realize that nearby objects are starting to rustle and crumple around them.

“Izuku, you need to calm down,” Tsukiachi tried. The young boy, however didnt seem to even register it as he spiraled further into the panic attack. The pressure from his quirk starts to push at them as they struggle to stay standing and brace themselves.

“Izuku, please! We’re not going to hurt you, please stop!” Tsukiachi begins begging as the nurse runs out of the room to get some help. The detective slowly begins to work against the pressure, walking towards the eight year old.

When he gets there, it feels like a grown woman is sitting directly on his chest. Not quite hard to breath, but not easy. He sucks in a deep breath and tenderly grabs Izuku’s hand to stop him from digging them into his bandages on his head. The boy flinches and snaps his head up with fear filling his eyes.

“You’re ok Izuku, you’re safe. Breathe with me?” the detective tries to soothe. Guiding the boys hand to rest on his chest and begins counting.

Slowly, the pressure starts to let up, and the boy’s breathing stabilizes. His shoulders slump, one of his legs stretches out to lay flat, and his other hand slides out of his hair to rest on the remaining bent knee that he pulls closer to his chest.

Tsukiachi notices the doctor quietly walk out to give them some space and to stop anyone from coming to help.

Eventually, his eyes go up to meet the detectives. “EEII-I’m ssorry…” he says whispers.

Tsuka’s heart aches, “Kid, there’s nothing to be sorry about. This is something someone your age should’ve never had to deal with.” Hoping that the kid understood.

Izuku didn’t seem to believe him, but minutely nodded. Unknown to the detective, Izuku deems him the one good person in his life and vows not to let him down.

A small smile graces his lips. Afterall, he’s free now, Tsukiachi made sure of that, and he will be forever grateful.

A few days later…

Izuku is now mostly healed and the doctors have cleared him to leave the hospital. He appears healthier and feels more energetic now that he has been eating properly. Tsukiachi called in a favor and managed to set up providence-funded aid that covers five free court mandated quirk therapy sessions each year, apologizing and saying that’s as much as he could do.

With this agreement, his Child Guidance Center counselor, Asahi, is required to take him to each one, divided equally throughout the year (every 2.6-ish months). Asahi met Izuku once after his meltdown. She was a little chubby, adding some charming softness to her features with long black hair, and some sort of textile manipulation quirk. Izuku didn’t want to bother her, so he had to reign in his usual quirk questions when they met, although he thought she was pretty nice.

Over the last few days though, while he’s still in the hospital, Izuku has been going through various quirk, speech, and physical therapy sessions with a man named Daisuke to learn the basics of each.

Daisuke was a large man with light brown hair, lots of muscles, and a well-kept medium length beard. At the start of the quirk sessions, Izuku was not very forthcoming, clamming up and shutting down. However, he realized that compared to his other motor functions, he could control his quirk smoothly with his brain. It listens to him better than his own speech. Despite his inherent disgust of it, he oddly finds some relief in it.

As a result, the last few days he has slowly started feeling safer with using his quirk and learning some in-home exercises to gain basic control. Daisuke, excitedly came up with an idea for Izuku to use leg braces when he learned of his quirk.

“you could use it to help your legs move, and you wont even need a cane or anything!,” Daisuke exclaimed.

At this point of his quirk training, they also agreed it would take at least a year before the boy would have enough fine tune control to be able to attempt it. Excitement coursed through the young boy’s body at the thought of this, and he got to work with practicing his writing skills so he can put this to paper. He already had so many ideas!

He could make it designed completely around his quirk. Obviously he cant use it all the time, so the braces could be made to keep him upright when he just wants to stand. When he becomes a hero he can use it as an additional support item with things built into it! The possibilities were endless and Izuku was practically shaking with anticipation. He knew though, for now he just needed to wait, do his exercises, and improve in therapy.

Izuku has really been relaxing a lot more. Tsukiachi had come by again to explain how the court process worked and the battle that is to come to the eight year old. The detective also told him that with their interview from the other day combined with the evidence in their home, that his mom is going to have an almost impossible time getting out of these charges.

With his mother in jail, Izuku was so much more relaxed as well. Tsukiachi and Daisuke saw how he slowly came out of his shell the past few days. Their hearts swell when they think about how far he’s come in trusting them . They remember first seeing him with the cuts, bruises, malnourishment, and bandages all over his head and they’re so proud of his progress.

Unfortunately, they had to say goodbye today and he was looking through the bags Tsukiachi had brought him filled with all the items Izuku owns (which wasn’t much). While he double checked he had enough clothes, Daisuke quietly knocked and pushed the door open carrying a box behind him. Izuku carefully put his things down and watched the man walk in.

“Izuku, I wanted to say goodbye before you left, and to give you this!” He happily held the box out to the young boy.

With ever trembling hands, the eight-year-old swiftly opened the box to find…metal rods?

“W-what isss thhiss?” he says, shakily pulling some weird looking rods with an open cuff and a bar at the end.

“They’re crutches! We know that you can’t quite walk without support anymore, so and me and Tsukiachi chipped in to get you some nice ones with padding that adjust while you grow!” The therapist was ecstatic while showing the young boy how to use them and how they worked while he practiced using them around the room.

Izuku’s eyes swelled with tears once again, except this time it was with pure joy. He had never had anyone get him a gift this thoughtful. A wide smile creased his face, and he quickly turned and hugged the large man. “Th-Thankk Y-youu ssoo mmuch!”

“Of course, lil guy! We’re both so glad we were able to help you out while you were here.” Daisuke smiled warmly, patting his back.

“Well,” the man sighs and ducks his head,”I’ve got to go, but I hope I see you improve by the next time I see you.”

Izuku excitedly nods as the man grins and pats his back one more time before he slips out of his room.

The boy is left quietly practicing his walk and his exercises while he thinks about his next home.

Asahi had explained a few days ago that all of the special needs foster homes were all filled up, but she had found him a placement in a normal one. She gave him a quick breakdown. The Kaneko’s are very sweet people, religious, and a reliable place that had already taken in many children that needed emergency care. When she talked about them she seemed at ease and proud that she had found the boy such a nice place.

Izuku was excited. He liked the idea of an adult following religion, that they had set rules on what they were and weren’t allowed to do or say. It made him feel a bit safer knowing that they are afraid of a god…

…Oh the irony…

---

The boy and his counselor stood at a doorstep. Izuku wanted to use his new crutches as soon as possible and held them as he leaned against the wall. With a sigh, Asahi politely knocks on the Kaneko’s door, and they hear prompt whispering and rustling behind the door. Quickly, once the sound died down, the door was wrenched open by a woman with long dark red hair.

“Ms. Kaneko?” Asahi questioned.

The woman happily responded that this was the right place and nodded while she ushered them inside. Izuku pegged her at about her mid-thirties. She was dressed in a long white flowy dress that accentuated her waist, and she helped him relax a lot more with the way she fondly glanced at him and greeted him into the home.

From the other room, the man of the house came walking over, greeting the counselor like they were long-time friends and offering to brew some tea for everyone while they discussed everything. He was a large, stocky man, standing at about 6 feet tall with glasses and short light brown hair. The woman nodded and a loving expression washed over her expression.

Asahi and Ms. Kaneko briefly chatted, discussing Izuku’s accommodations, paperwork, and requirements to stay with them. Mr. Kaneko at one point had brought them all cups of tea and some snacks to munch on.

“Izuku,” she smiled warmly,” I know that this transition can be difficult for you, so please let me know if there is anything we can get for you to help this place feel more at home.”

The eight-year-old skittishly nods at this, shrinking back from the attention.

Asahi seemed ecstatic at this, “That’s so sweet of you Ms. Kaneko!”

“Of course! I believe that all children under God are just so precious and must be kept safe,” she sagely replied.

Izuku thought he could try finding a safe space here. Both of the Kanekos seemed so friendly and understanding. They were so different from *her,* and he was looking forward to living the life that Tsukiachi and Daisuke had described as “normal” kids his age experienced. He tasted it in the hospital and can’t wait for more. Safety. Love. Hope.

Doubt did linger in his mind, however. What if his hopes were too high? Like every time *She* said she would quit drinking. Like when he thought she was applying to a new job and ended up living through hell during the anticipation. Like when- No, he needs to stop thinking that way, Daisuke said so. *She* wasn’t there to hurt him anymore, and now he can return to being a “normal” kid.

Izuku shook his head, clearing his mind of the negative thoughts.

---

After half an hour of further discussion and settling Izuku’s bag into his shared room, Asahi left and hugged him on her way out. Before leaving though, she swiftly handed him her business card with her number and email in case he ever needed her. Quickly, he shakily slid it into his pocket, ensuring no one saw. Not that he didn’t trust the Kaneko’s, but… He’s not sure why he hid it, maybe it was years of walking on eggshells or something else, but he felt guilty hiding something so small.

The young boy looked up at the redhead, her eyes gleaming with something he couldn’t quite understand. Joy? It looked like she would consume him with her presence, and it made him nervous.

Nonetheless, he smiles up at her and asks if she needs him to do anything before he starts organizing his new room.

“Just one thing for later dear,” she grins,” The other children will be home after school around 3:15, I want you to meet them when they get here.” The boy twitches a nod, thanks her, and quietly shuffles up the stairs, struggling with his crutches in one hand and gripping the railing with another.

Chapter Text

While Izuku waited for the other kids to get home he elected to explore the house.

It started upstairs where there were three bedrooms. A master room, clearly for the adult couple, another with messy bunkbeds, and a surprisingly organized space, and the last one is his room that he’ll be sharing with a different kid that already had their things in it. This one also had a bunk bed and Izuku was really excited.

The living room was surprisingly bare. A simple minimalist theme trickled throughout rooms he expected to be much more… is “lived-in” a good term? He wasn’t sure. Asahi mentioned that 3 other children were living in the home, and he expected places like the kitchen, living room, or dining room to look a lot less clinical. Nothing was out of place and everything seemed eerily clean. Maybe they wanted to make a good impression on him and Ms. Asahi… ? This put Izuku off, and a feeling he couldn’t quite understand sparked in his chest.

Eventually though, the other children did get there and the greenette was immediately anxious. He knew that he was different now. Nothing about him was normal anymore, including the way he walked or talked, and fear started to grip him.

What if they make fun of me??

The thought of jeers and taunts from bullies haunted the boy. Desperately he hoped that they were at least not like Bakugo.

They all got home before 3:15 or on the dot, it was almost impressive. These fellow kids appeared very on edge though, and the feeling grew more in Izuku’s chest. Once everyone had gotten home, they lined up and introduced themselves. Daiju was the oldest at 11, he had bright blonde hair, dark red eyes, and a blood clotting manipulation quirk. Fukuro was also eight, though a bit taller, and the one sharing a room with Izuku. He had a Tawny owl mutation quirk with shiny calico-mixed feathers and dark brown eyes. Finally, there was Hikaru, he was 6 years old, was extremely shy, and he rarely spoke. His quirk gave him retractable snake fangs that allowed him to spray a potent poison.

The green-haired boy excitedly started stuttering by complimenting all of them about their quirks and asking them questions. He leaned forward onto his crutches and fully engaged into the conversation.

Daiju looked very tired, but fondly entertained the younger boy and explained the intricacies of his quirk. When Izuku pressed more, he talked about his sister who he had been separated from with a tight smile. She had a blood quirk too! He discussed the differences. They both craved blood, but his sister needed it every few days to act normal, fortunately Daiju didn’t have the same drawback. He talked about wanting to be a certified nurse to use his quirk to prevent people from bleeding out, and Izuku only got more excited.

Once he extracted every bit of info Daiju was comfortable talking about, the young boy turned his attention to his peer. Fukuro’s eyes went big, and he clacked his beak together in equal excitement. Most of his mutation was on his head, but he had wings that dragged behind him, and feathers that tapered off on his arms. His nails could also grow into sharp talons, but he cut and filed them down to not accidentally nick people.

The owl boy showed off how his head turned all the way around and explained how he used to be able to fly and told him what it was like. Izuku noted the way his right wing has some bald scar tissue where his flight feathers would normally be, but elected not to mention it. Instead, the two boys joked about how he could be a shadow reflection of Hawks and how perfect his quirk would be for nighttime heroics.

Last but not least, Izuku made sure not to leave out Hikaru who had been eying him nervously the entire time. He didn’t seem to like talking about his quirk, but did mention how it was similar to the Dilophosaurus, his favorite dinosaur from the Jurassic Park series. From that, Izuku got to talking about dinosaurs, and the six-year-old lit up to ramble about all the different dinosaurs and fun facts.

After a few minutes of chatting and telling the others about himself, Izu stilled when a hand came to rest on his shoulder. His mind began to panic. Was his mom back to get him? The other kids also seemed to still as he slowly turned around only to find the familiar dark brown eyes of Ms. Kaneko. She was grinning down at him and her other hand went up to also rest on Fukuro’s shoulder.

“Come along boys! Lets discuss room arrangements.” She guided them up the stairs towards their shared room, going slower so the greenete didn’t feel rushed with his crutches. Izuku hadn’t started unpacking his things yet and Ms. Kaneko didn’t seem to mind his bag still plopped in the middle of the floor.

“Fukuro, honey, little Izu here will be on the bottom of your bunk bed from now on. Please help him to settle in and make room, ok?” she smiled warmly. The owl boy nodded and with that she excitedly left the room and closing the door behind her.

The room itself was not very exciting other than the bunk bed. It held the same plain minimal look that the rest of the house had. Eerily, it reminded Izuku of his room back at his mom’s house when she threw out all of his toys. Was he wrong to expect more personality in the room when he first saw it earlier?

Quietly, he turns to Fukuro to ask a question, but the boy quickly went to grab his face.

“Hmph-!” Izuku was immediately alarmed, his eyes went wide and he stumbled backwards.

“Don’t!” the other boy whispered desperately “she’s listening.”

The greenette immediately stopped moving and calmed down. Years of survival instincts telling him this was the right move.

After a few seconds, the feathered boy slowly removes his hand, and they stand completely silent. Eventually, after several agonizing minutes, Izuku hears faint footsteps retreat from outside their door.

This place was not what it seemed and the young boy was confused.

But… Ms. Kaneko is so nice….

…

Momma seemed nice too…

…

Dread filled his stomach. Was he just back where he started? He was never going to be safe? What about Tsukiachi? Did he just lie so he didn’t have to deal with it? What was the point in all of it…

An ugly monster was born that day. It filled Izuku’s stomach, burning his insides with disgust and betrayal.

Of course they lied. People always lie…

“They’re not bad if you follow the rules,” Fukuro says lowly. Seemingly guilty about basically attacking a disabled person.

“O-ok. Wh-what are theyy?” Izuku- no- The Boy asks.

“Right now? They’re really relaxed. That usually happens when we get a new kid, but…” his beak clacks at a bad memory, “…just don’t act devilish. She- She hates that most of all.”

Confused, “devv-vilish?”, The Boy asks.

The owl boy nods solemnly, “ Yea. Things like eating when you’re not supposed to or getting home late. It’s better than it could be though!” he flutters, “they don't usually hit us- not unless we did something super bad! They also just want to make sure we only get our two meals so we don’t turn out ‘unhealthy’’

The Boy was even more confused. Wasn’t that normal?

Tsukiachi did tell him that a parent hitting their kid wasn’t normal, but he never mentioned the other things. Mamma was bad because she hurt him and… he didn’t want to think of that right now.

Eventually, he just nodded back at Fukuro, excited to get a normal home for once. They weren’t getting hit, and have times when they’re supposed to be eating. Two meals a day?! His mouth watered.

Izuku shot the owl boy a judgmental look because clearly he doesn’t know that’s normal. Damn him for scaring the crap out of him. In return, Fukuro sat dumbfounded not sure how to explain the situation.

“Just don’t make our lives harder, “ he pleads.

“S-sure.” and the ugly monster in his stomach was kept at bay.

Eventually, the tension eases out of their room and the two boys start to get to know each other more.

“Why do you need crutches?’

“I hhit my hh-head and noww I can’t c-control my boddy asss well. “ Izuku rapid fire responds, “Whhy can’tt yyou fly?”

“My flight feathers caught on fire.” Fukuro zips past.

“Waht’s y-yourrr favvor-rite color?”

“Yellow, How about you?” he shoots back.

“…R-red,” although, he’s not sure anymore. The Boy is sure he’s seen enough red recently.

At some point, the questions stop and a faint bell sounds from downstairs. Immediately, Fukuro shoots up from his spot on the floor.

“Dinner’s ready! We can’t keep her waiting!” is all he says before he bolts out the room wings fluttering behind him and down the stairs, hearing other footsteps rush down after his.

With a sigh, Izuku, as swiftly as he can, grabs his crutches, and makes his way down as well. When he gets there, everyone is seated at the table waiting for him. Space has been made, and the young boy feels like he might cry.

A fresh meal?

He sits down and quickly starts to cut his food, but before he takes a bite, Fukuro kicks him from under the table and that’s when he realized no one else has eaten yet. They’re all just staring at him with varying glares and looks of fear.

“Izuku, honey,” Mrs. Kaneko flashes him a sickly sweet smile, “we always pray before we eat. Dont you think it’s important to thank god for this blessing?”

His normal hand tremors become more intense and his face blushes with emberassment as he quickly bows his head, “Y-yes mm-maam. Sorry.”

“Good,” She pats his arm, making him flinch, “let us pray then.”

The dinner ends up being very quiet that night, just like all of their future dinners. The red headed woman slyly sliding her eyes on each child in her care like a snake searching for prey.

In Izuku’s book, everything seems to be going pretty smoothly lately. He felt like he was finally experiencing that “normal kid” life that Daisuke said he deserved. They enrolled him into a new elementary school, far away from Bakugo and his bullies.

Him and Fukuro are even in the same class!

The other kids seemed super interested in his crutches on his first day and asked him all sorts of questions about them. At recess they played Hero’s vs Villains where he was basically king of the hill for having such a long reach with them. All in all, Its been awesome!

Fukuro seemed to be less on edge than he was when Izuku had first gotten there and they started to play a lot together. They explored deep underwater trenches, dug for treasure, and even managed to build their own hero personas.

After the first few days of class though, the “new kid wonder” had worn off and their peers had started to avoid the freckled boy, thinking he was hard to talk to and play with. Their parents had warned them not to be too rough with him, resulting in everyone being scared to play with him.

Izuku understood why, and Fukuro did his best to cheer him up.

“We can always play together Izu! Don’t ever doubt it!” He shouted with his beak rapidly clacking together in excitement.

“T-thank y-ouuu F-F-Fuk-kuro” Midoriya teared up, so grateful for his new friend.

It had been about a week and a half since Izuku had settled into Ms. and Mr. Kaneko’s home and he was having a ball! He had gotten to know the other boys pretty well. Hikaru, even seemed to be coming out of his shell a little, and little Izu was beaming with pride.

Him and Fukuro had become best friends and were rough housing the whole way back from school. Lightly shoving, jabbing, and messing each other’s hair up, they laughed the whole way home. Sometimes stopping to face off in the grass.

Before they knew it, they were back at the house and shoving each other through the door. Izuku swiftly jabbed the bird boy in the ribs, and it quickly devolved into wrestling in the living room. They’re laughing and having fun until Izuku’s quirk flares up and shoves Fukuro against the floor, pinning him down. He yelps a swift “OW!” and the greenette swiftly turns it off, feeling guilty.

“IZUKU!” a voice bellows from behind.

The Boy jumped and immediately turned around to see Ms.Kaneko stomping over to them, fuming, and her skin as red as her hair. Fear shot through his frame and he quickly scrambled away. Her arms reach out and yank Fukuro up from his spot on the floor, practically dislocating his shoulder. He yelps again and immediately starts to cower under her glare.

She grabs his other wrist, yelling, “WE TALKED ABOUT THIS. NO ROUGH HOUSING. DIDN’T WE?” he nods frantically, and her voice lowers, “Yes. We did, didn’t we? It’s a result of the devil taking advantage of you and I wont tolerate his influence.” Her glare sharply lands on Izuku and quickly changes to one of mocking pity. She lets the bird boy go- who hangs his head, rooted to his spot.

She stalks over to his trembling form against the wall and holds her hand out to lift him up. He hesitantly takes it and is brought up close to her form.

“Izuku,” she says with woe, “you have been corrupted, and it’s infecting the other children. They never acted like this before you got here. Even Hikaru seems to be acting out more than ever…” Her look of concern shifts to Fukuro a few paces away. “I mean, look at him, he’s a sinner now, and it’s hurting him.” She looks back, and her grip on his hand tightens. “You need to stop speaking, that’s how the devil spreads his hate. Do you understand?”

The Boy shakily nods his head, eyes glued to the floor.

“Not a word Izuku, or you will be punished through Gods will.”

He nods more furiously and she seems to be satisfied with her result with a grin on her face.

“Good boy, hopefully the devil will leave you soon.” and she pats Fukuro on the shoulder and heads back up to her room with the tension lingering in the air.

“Izu… it’s ok. It was an accident. Just don’t speak when she’s here, ok?” as he shoots a quick sympathetic look.

“O-ok.” he whispers back. They then somberly head back to their room to get their school work done and relax.

Maybe this isn’t supposed to be normal. Maybe Tsukauchi really did lie…

Dinner rolls around and the table is quiet as usual. Ms. Kaneko announces that Izuku is corrupted and he’s not allowed to speak anymore. If any of the kids hear him speak they are to report it immediately so they can be cleansed, and if she catches any of them hiding it, there will be worse consequences. Hikaru’s eyes go wide, and he immediately starts to avoid Izu out of fear.

Her eyes lingered on him as she watched him struggle to hold his chopsticks,“Try not to touch him much either, we don’t know how well this can spread to you children.”

Everyone nods, and Mr. Kaneko grunts in response.

They know what I am now… Where I come from…That Momma had to infect me with her evil…but I guess I knew that when I got her quirk…

The Boy’s self-doubt ramped up and he knows that he messed up.

A few days later, and Izuku doesn’t know how it got this bad to fast. No one has spoken to him or touched him outside of school since that night. Even then, only the teachers ever really speak to him, and he barely mumbles any responses to them, hoping they will move on as fast as possible.

Don’t they understand? He’s diseased, he can’t be spreading it to the other children…

Yesterday morning, it had gotten even worse when Ms. Kaneko walked in on him practicing his quirk in his and Fukuro’s room. He immediately stopped and stood at attention.

“Honey,” she smiled warmly,”that’s a wonderful quirk. Where do you get it from?”

Oh no…

“M-m-my M-momma” He quivered out.

Her eyes darken, “Oh really? She was a bad mother wasn’t she? What was her quirk?”

He slowly looks up, “y-yes, it wasss m-milddd teh-telep-path-thy. ‘A-at-traction Offf Sssmall Ooobject-ts.”

Her eyes turn somber, “ah yes, an unfortunate inheritance from a devil-infested person. But! I’m sure God gave it to you for a reason. Tell me, was it hard to control when you were younger? It is quite powerful…”

The Boy is trembling more than usual at this point, “u-uhm, n-no. It wasss f-forceee man-manifesstedd a f-few month-ths ago.”

Then the atmosphere shifts, “What? The Lord gives everyone their proper gifts when they are four! Have you seen those who have it late? Devils. All of them!” she mournfully shakes her head. “This will not be under my roof-“ She pauses to think “- Izuku. look at me.”

He makes full eye contact and immediately feels like crawling in a hole and never coming out. Her stare is stifling as he feels like he’s going to suffocate on the spot.

Eventually, once she feels he’s paying full attention, her mouth twists in disgust and she speaks again, “Your quirk is not from our Lord. Other’s who have had their’s later in life almost always use it for the devil’s work. I bet you are like them. Bitter from the years where you had no power, and hurting others for their God given gifts. It is from the Devil, and you are not to use it any more. Do you understand?”

He nods with his morale breaking down the center.

Of course they do, he remembers the way that he was treated when he didn’t have his quirk.

The monster in his gut is writhing and eating at his insides.

“y-yes m-maam”

Her eyes soften, “Honey, I know that this will be hard for you,” her hand comes to rest gently on his shoulder and he tries his best to supress, a flinch “but this is for your own good. The more you use this demonic power, the more that you might be tempted to become a villain. Do you want that?”

His eyes go wide, “N-no! Offf c-courssse n-not! I-I’ll be a h-herooo on-ne day!”

Ms.Kaneko huffs a laugh, “Of course you do. Maybe you would be a great quirkless hero, just like you were meant to be by God….You wont be getting any dinner tonight. Do you understand?”

The Boy nods and solemnly looks down to the floor. Grief wracking his frame.

But…Daisuke said to practice it everyday so it’s easier to control…

This was the first time he disagreed with the woman. If his quirk was demonic, shouldn’t he have to practice it so it’s not out of control? The doctor said that it was S class. What does someone do if they can’t control something that strong?

The Boy created a plan for this morning where he woke up early, got to school early, and had enough time to practice his curse in the bathroom before anyone could notice or get close enough to be infected. This was his new routine, and he was determined not to let her take the one thing he can control away.