Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“You understand that if you want to be a hero, you cannot tell anyone about your quirk, my dear.”

A nod from the four year old. His big green eyes sparkled in the fluorescent hospital room. All he knew was that he gets to be a hero, everything he had ever wanted, and the person sitting across from him could give that to him. His ‘handler,’ she had called herself. The woman tucked a strand of green hair behind her ear. A kind smile sat on her face.

“What about Kaachan?” Izuku wanted so desperately to tell Kaachan about his brand new super important quirk. It would have to wait.

“Not yet, my little hero,” the woman laughed. She had a nice laugh. Izuku mimicked it, and found it to be as fun as it sounded. “For now, it’s a secret. Just you and me, yeah?”

“Okay,” Izuku grinned. 

“And guess what, my little hero?”

“What?”

“You get to come home with me! No more foster homes for you.”

“Really?” Izuku gasped. A look came over the woman’s face. Sad, and happy, and something else. Izuku gazed into her eyes, the ones that were so much like his own. “You’re adopting me?!”

“Yes, I am.” The woman moved to sit on the hospital bed next to him. He launched himself into her arms. “My name is Inko Midorya, and you are my son.”

“I’m Izuku Midorya!”

Mama smiled as big as he did. He thought she was very pretty when she smiled. Her suit felt itchy against his face, but he didn’t mind. He had a new Mama and he gets to be a hero! This was the best day ever!

—————

Toga pulled at the straps of the red tank top she wore. The room was sweltering. Freaking Shigaraki. She would stab him if she could. Well, just a little, anyway. Twice nudged her and she stopped moving. The group they were meeting with had been haggling, and Toga could see their leader starting to look faint.

“I don’t know about that,” Shigaraki rasped. She didn’t know how he did it. Shiggy wore a long sleeve shirt and looked perfectly comfortable despite the heat - if a little sweaty. 

“W-we can’t go any lower,” the man stuttered. “Any lower, and we won’t even be able to get the materials.”

A chill passed through Toga. An unnatural chill. She groaned inwardly as she tugged her sweater on. Whoever had this stupid quirk would be the death of her. The group of visitors looked at her like she was crazy. Shiggy sighed.

“We’re done for the day.”

“But—“

“I said we’re done,” Shigaraki snapped. The rest of the League got up from where they had been sitting around the edges of the small room. They filed out into the barroom. It was still warm out here, but warm like a late summer’s day instead of the sauna they had just been in. 

Once all the visitors left, the League collapsed in various chairs. Kurogiri brought cups of ice water around to each of them. Toga took off her sweater, poured a bit in her hand, and splashed her neck. This feels so good , she thought as she drew her cold fingers over her face. A chill passed over her again, but this time it was just the air conditioning.

“Man, why can’t we just set up some sort of heat detector?” Twice whined. Then in his more manic voice, “ I can’t take the heat any more !”

“You know why,” Compress glared. Even he had taken off his mask to try and cool down. 

“Doesn’t seem very fair.” Dabi sipped his water. “What kind of quirk doesn't show up on anything?”

“If we knew the answer to that, we wouldn’t have to hold meetings in a sauna,” Shiggy growled. It seemed their boss didn’t like it either. He was splayed out on the counter, hands in a pile next to him. If they hadn’t been suffering from heatstroke, Toga was sure that Kurogiri would have portaled him away.

“I thought it was great,” said Spinner. Several groans of frustration were directed at him. Toga threw a knife, although she was too tired to put any real effort into it. The blade bounced off and harmlessly landed on the floor. “Hey! It’s not my fault someone has a weird Quirk!”

“Whatever and whoever it is,” Toga said, “I hope I get to stab them. I would love to see their blood.”

Her compatriots all issued grunts of agreement. Toga smiled at the thought of the unknown person’s blood dripping down her knife. It would be sooooo pretty. She chugged the rest of her water and closed her eyes. It would certainly be interesting.

—————

Izuku sat back. Speaking to ghosts wasn’t hard, nor was seeing them. A few were quite gory looking, but almost ten years at the commission had desensitized him to that type of thing. He sighed. There were a few ghosts that helped him constantly spy. They sought him out, as if they could sense him. Today’s ghost spy had approached him several years ago. 

Over the years, Izuku had found out a lot about his quirk. He drew ghosts in. He could command them, to a certain extent. And they could not lie to him. And today’s ghost was no exception. Although, Izuku was quite sure that Hana wouldn’t have tried lying. It wouldn’t have occurred to her.

“I’m sorry, Zuku,” she pouted. “They felt me. I accidentally walked through one of them. The girl.”

As she spoke, Izuku signed her words to the camera set up in the front of the room. When he was small, he had had to repeat everything for the Commision, but that had been incredibly annoying and hard for Izuku to keep track of, so Mom had taught him sign language. They used to try to be present for the talks, but the ghosts tended to clam up around others, even if they couldn’t be heard. Ghosts didn’t seem to care about cameras, though. 

“You know, this keeps happening, Hana,” Izuku said, not unkindly. Hana’s lip quivered. “It’s not your fault, but do you know why it keeps happening?”

“No. They sit around the entire room, though. And if anyone moves, they all leave! I can’t listen in if they all leave!”

“It’s all right. Next time, try just peaking your head through.”

“But that’s so hard! I can’t be in the same place as the wall the whole time!”

“Okay. I won’t make you. You’ve been a lot of help anyways.”

“How did it go, my little hero?” Mom asked as he exited the room. She stood outside the entire time, as this had been a short session.

“It was fine, Mom,” he said, handing the SD card over, “but no new information. The League has figured out a way to know when a ghost is there.”

“That’s not good.” They dropped the card off to their supervisor, then began their walk home. Hana trailed behind.

“I don’t think it’ll be too much of a problem. I just need a taller ghost who’s willing to stand halfway in a wall.”

“Perhaps Agent Namura?”

“Maybe.”

Mom looked at him, studied his face. After that went on a minute too long, Izuku gestured in a ‘go on’ way.

“Are you all right?” She finally asked. “You look pale, and I don’t like the look of the circles under your eyes.”

“I’m all right. Just adjusting to the new missions.”

The Commission had recently begun using him for more involved missions. He had been assigned to help with some of Hawks’ takedowns. Nothing too big, just backup for the pro while he took care of most things. Izuku had to admit, Hawks was actually a pretty cool guy, even in costume. Keigo actually visited their apartment every once in a while. It happened more when he was younger, and less so now. When he was a kid, Izuku liked to imagine that the feathered hero was his older brother.

“Is everything at school all right?”

Izuku nodded, but his gut tightened at the thought of school. The bullying was relentless, and it frustrated him to no end that he couldn’t tell people about his quirk. Kaachan had simultaneously gotten better and worse in recent years. Not much he could do about it, though, and there was no point in worrying his mother. Most Commision handlers were…cold, to say the least, but Inko had really stepped into the mother role. She had even gone so far as to fight the Commision on the need for him to go to school. Yeah, Izuku was not going to tell her about the bullying. That was a sure way for the Commision to take away something she had fought so hard for.

Chapter Text

“Deku!”

Kaachan shoved Izuku down. The pavement scraped across his face. Or, rather, his face scraped across it . Painful as always. He heard the cronies laughing. Izuku tuned them out, just going through the motions. Taunt, heckle, hit, laugh, explode, run. It was easy. Familiar. He could hear the words of his supervisor: ‘fighting back jeopardizes the mission’ and ‘your cover depends on your quirklessness.’ He groaned from where Kaachan had left him on the pavement, a new burn on his arm. Izuku hobbled home, where his mother already had the first aid kit out. She gently took him by the hand.

“You can fight back,” she whispered as she cleaned his wound. “It would make sense. Just one good hit. I can explain it to the Commision.”

“I can’t do that. Besides, it’s Kaachan,” he whispered back. The setting sun filtered through their curtains, illuminating Mom’s face. She looked older than he remembered. How long had it been since he had really noticed her? Wrinkles decorated her slim fingers. Creases sat around her eyes.

A knock came from the door, and for a split second Izuku thought that maybe the bullies had followed him home. Mom gave him a concerned look. When she opened the door, there was no one there. She picked up a grocery bag.

“Burn medicine,” she said. The corner of Izuku’s mouth twitched. Had it been Kaachan…? Nobody else would have left it. He sighed. Mom wrapped an arm around his shoulders, bag still in hand. They stayed like that for a moment, until another knock came. “That’ll be Takami.”

“Keigo?!” Izuku forgot all about the burn on his arm. He ran to the door, threw it open, and there stood Hawks in civilian clothes with a bag of food. “Keigo! It’s been so long”

“Hey, little Zuku!” Keigo laughed. He slung his empty arm over Izuku’s shoulders. “Your mom invited me over for dinner. Said you might like to have a friend over.”

Izuku knew he was grinning like an idiot. He did not care. Keigo was here for dinner! Best day ever. This was the fourth time this month, actually. He wondered about that. Maybe Keigo was in love with his mom? He hoped not. That would be extremely weird. He was like a cool older brother. Izuku dismissed his thought completely when his mother started fussing over Keigo the way she did when Izuku had a particularly bad day. Then he noticed the dark circles under the hero’s eyes, the way he seemed to sag into the sofa, and how worn down he looked. His clothes looked…dirty. Not the way hero costumes looked dirty after a battle, but the way Izuku’s clothes looked dirty after he’d been wearing them for a few days. 

A ghost popped through the wall and leaned over the couch. Izuku recognized her. A tourist woman that Hawks had saved from a collapsed building, but died on the way to the hospital. He thinks her name was Liza. A rather sad look sat on her elegant face.

“He’s been like this for the last three days,” she said. “Didn’t have time for laundry before his mission, doesn’t have the energy to do it now. Doesn’t have the energy to do anything right now. He hasn’t slept either.”

The boy nodded ever so slightly, so the pro wouldn’t notice. Not that it mattered. Keigo seemed a million miles away. He stared blankly at the ceiling. It was a look that had sat on Izuku’s face many times. The kind of look that you get when you fail miserably. Heroes often had that look in private, Izuku had noticed. Even the ever-cheerful Hawks. Carefully, but quickly, Izuku hatched a plan. He sat next to Keigo, sniffed the air as obviously as possible, then dramatically pulled his shirt over his nose while flopping onto the opposite side of the couch.

“Man, you need a shower,” Izuku laughed. Really, Keigo didn’t smell all that bad, but you could tell he’d just slapped on some cologne.

“Hm. Probably,” Keigo replied. He didn’t move, and neither did the blank expression. Izuku pursed his lips. Clearly, this wasn’t going to be as easy as he had hoped. He grabbed Keigo’s arm and pulled with all his might. Keigo floundered as he fell to the floor, nearly hitting the coffee table. “Hey!”

“You two be nice,” Mom called from the kitchen.

“We are!” Izuku joyfully exclaimed.

“You brat,” said Keigo, but there was no malice behind it. He heaved himself up, and Izuku pulled him down the hallway. “Okay, I know I don’t smell as bad as you’re making it out to be. I took a shower at the station, thank you very much.”

“That was three days ago; it doesn't count.”

Keigo scowled, looking around the both of them, as if he could see the ghosts like Izuku could. Liza stood right in front of him and doubled over with laughter.

“Tell him I think it’s cute when he tries to see us. He looks just like my little brother when I told him the air was made of fairies.”

“I’d rather not,” Izuku muttered.

“Rather not what?” Asked Keigo. His eyes narrowed.

“Tell him! Tell him!” Izuku tried to tune out Liza’s laughter as he answered.

“I’d rather not tell you that you remind Liza of her little brother trying to find fairies in the air. And that she’s laughing her butt off,” he added. Keigo scowled, eyes still roaming. Izuku pointed to where Liza now sat on the floor, wiping tears from her eyes. Keigo leveled his best glare at her.

“How about you keep my business to yourself. I don’t need a kid telling me to take a shower.”

“Yes, you do,” Liza laughed, moving to sling an arm around Izuku.

“Yes, you do,” Izuku repeated. Keigo gave him a look, and he held his hands up defensively. “Her words, not mine. Although, I’m inclined to agree.”

“You’re ganging up on me.” Keigo pointed sternly at where Liza had been. Izuku moved his hand so he would actually be pointing at her. “Thanks. And you , Miss Ghost, had better stay out of the bathroom while I’m in there.”

“No promises,” she grinned. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Izuku shot an alarmed look at her. 

“What? What did she say?” 

Izuku looked from the ghost to the hero and back. Liza rolled her eyes.

“It was an accident. I didn’t know he was showering. Actually, at the time, I didn’t know that room was the bathroom, so when I walked through the wall—”

“Please don’t finish that story,” he groaned.

“What story?” A note of panic hit Keigo’s voice.

“Uh, nothing,” Izuku said quickly. “It’s fine, she’s just being…weird.”

“I am not weird,” Liza scoffed as he ushered Keigo into the bathroom.

“She promises to stay out.”

“Good.” Keigo closed the door, and a moment later Izuku heard the shower turn on. Liza glanced between him and the door.

“Don’t even think about it,” he muttered. Liza huffed and sat with her back against the door, arms folded.

“I don’t take orders from little boys,” she said. Izuku said nothing back. He was just glad she wasn’t purposely being a pervert. Some ghosts lost all sense of boundaries after death. Izuku grabbed some spare clothes out of the hall closet and set them outside the door. They always had spares.  It had only happened a few times over the years, but you never knew when an agent would show up needing help. And/or clothes.

“Keigo,” he said through the door, “there’s clothes for you in the hallway.”

He thought he heard a soft ‘okay,’ so he let him be. Whatever Keigo’s mission was the other day, it must have been bad. Izuku wandered over to help his mom with the cooking. Mom smiled and moved so he could start chopping onions while she brought a pot to boil.

“How is he?” Mom asked.

“I’m not sure,” Izuku answered honestly. “He looks like he’s having an Empty Day. Or maybe days.”

An Empty Day is what Mom called the days where you couldn’t feel much of anything, and could do even less.

“Poor Takami,” his mom said. “I’m sure he’ll feel better after a shower, but he has so many Empty Days, and I don’t think the Commission cares.”

“Hey,” said a voice from behind him. Izuku turned to find Liza with her arms held close to her chest. It was something she seemed to do when she was upset. He wondered what was wrong, but didn’t ask. Izuku gave her a sad smile. Mom noticed.

“Is someone here?”

“Liza.” His mom waited, and Izuku sheepishly realized he hadn’t introduced them. “She’s an American tourist that Hawks saved.”

“Ah. Has she been here before?”

“No. But she’s been at every mission I’ve done with him.”

“Hm. Well,” Mom asked with her eyes where the ghost was. Izuku pointed. “It’s very nice to meet you. You’re welcome here any time, but I ask you to leave Izuku alone while he sleeps, and stay out of the bathroom. All the other ghost rules are posted on the ceiling above the fridge. I apologize for the inconvenience, but less living people ask questions that way. If you don’t follow the rules, Izuku can command you to leave. I know he doesn’t like doing that, so please read and follow the rules.”

“Will do,” Liza mock saluted, but without her usual chipperness.

“She says she will.”

“Wonderful!”

“Tell her I like her hair.” Izuku repeated her, and Liza seemed happier.

“Thank you,” Mom blushed. “I just got it cut last week.”

When Izuku got tired of relaying messages, he showed Liza the dry erase board on the fridge and charged her enough to use it. Ghosts could write without extra power, but it was a very slow process. Charging a hand took less energy than making them solid did, and Izuku had plenty of energy at the moment. He heard the bathroom door open and close. Keigo must have finished his shower. Izuku went to ask if he wanted him to toss his clothes in the laundry. A sound stopped him before he could knock. Gasping, shuddery breaths. It probably wasn’t the most polite thing to do, but Izuku eased the door open.

“Keigo?”

The lights were off, despite the sun having just gone down. The little frosted window set near the top of the wall let in just enough of the street light to see Keigo sitting on the floor, seemingly frozen at Izuku’s intrusion. His wings limply laid to the sides. Tears tracked his face. One tear dripped from his chin onto the pajama pants Izuku had picked out. His knees were clutched to his chest, and his expression was one that Izuku hadn’t seen before. He didn’t like it. It was like Keigo was a kid caught doing something he shouldn’t.

“Are you okay?” Izuku asked softly. This must have been what had Liza so upset.

“I’m fine,” the hero breathed. He frantically wiped the tears from his eyes. “Just fine. I just had a hard day. Sometimes you just need some alone time.”

Izuku thought for a moment, then sat next to the man, careful not to sit on top of any feathers. There was just enough space to fit both of their backs against the cupboard under the sink. When he was a kid, there had been times when his mom had been upset. Few things seemed to help, but there was one thing that had mostly worked. Izuku laid his head on Keigo’s shoulder. On his friend’s shoulder. A vague memory stirred, and his brain seemed to tell him he’d done this before, but he wasn’t sure when.

“It’s okay to cry,” said Izuku. “You don't have to hide it. Not here, anyway. The Commission can’t see you here.”

“The Commission can see me everywhere,” Keigo miserably whispered. “I can’t…I don’t - I don’t get a break.”

“Do they have you microchipped or something? Give you bionic eyes so they can see what you see?” Izuku wouldn’t be surprised, but he hoped it wasn’t true.

“No.” Keigo’s voice was raspy from crying. “But they definitely have my home bugged. Probably bugged yours, too. They don’t see everything. They can’t. But…it’s just a bit much sometimes. You…you get it, don’t you?”

“A bit,” Izuku admitted. “But you really are okay to cry here. The Commission really can’t see you.”

“You don’t know that,” Keigo looked away. “I thought I knew that, but I learned the hard way. Don’t learn the hard way.”

“I do know that, actually.” Izuku shifted, and pushed his way under Keigo’s arm until he was nestled into the man’s side. It was awkward, but Izuku remembered how much better his mom felt when he did that as a little kid. She had always said that a hug from Izuku was good for the soul. “There’s almost always at least two ghosts around here, which interferes with recording technology pretty badly. It literally corrupts recordings. Even one ghost can do that, but they’d have to stick their hand through whatever is recording. TVs are usually fine, and so are phones, as long as the microphone and camera aren’t being used. And if that isn’t enough to put your mind at ease, I have Agent Namura sweep the apartment twice a week. He’s really good at being a ghost. He can feel the smallest disturbance, even if it’s a quirk. His last sweep was this morning.”

Keigo’s look of disbelief was enough to make Izuku’s spirit soar.

“You…This is new. Last time I was here…We really can’t be heard? Or seen?”

“Not unless I tell all the ghosts to leave. Liza is the only human ghost here right now, but there are a few cat ghosts and a dog that stick around pretty much no matter what. I haven’t seen them today, but I can feel them. Eight or nine of them have been dormant in the walls for a long time. I think they know it makes me feel safe.”

Neither of them says anything for a long while, and Izuku thinks that maybe Keigo drifted off to sleep. That’s what usually happened to him after he’d had a good cry. Izuku felt something wet on his head, and he looked up. Keigo was crying again, silently. The hero pulled Izuku closer, as if the boy were the only lifeline he had in an ocean of misery. Izuku peaked out of Keigo’s hug when he heard Liza kneel down next to them.

“I told your mom I would check on you. You know, my brother held him like that,” she said, “when I died. Hawks flew him to the hospital after he finished saving everyone, but it was too late. I was already gone. Liam’s ten years younger than me. Between you and me, he was almost definitely an ‘oops’ baby.”

Izuku didn’t know what an ‘oops’ baby was, but he could guess.

“Liam had just turned eleven, and my parents paid for a trip for the both of us to go wherever we wanted. All Might is his favorite hero - well, aside from Stars and Stripes - so we came to Japan. Two days later, I was gone, and he was alone. Hawks…he stayed with him. Until my parents came. Held him almost the entire time. It’s about time somebody returned the favor.”

Izuku cried now, too. Never in his life had he felt more upset for a person than he did for Keigo right now. He knew Keigo was a Commission kid, like he was, but he was also a hero. A hero, with his own agency, who took the time to wait with a child for their parents. A hero who couldn’t even truly rest in his own home. It made Izuku angry, and he held on all the tighter. 

Izuku didn’t know how long they sat there, but it was a while. Liza disappeared, presumably to tell Mom what was going on. Keigo’s tears never stopped. One tear after another fell onto Izuku’s green curls, and with each one, Izuku hugged tighter. He almost worried about hurting the man, but then he figured Keigo would tell him to let go if he hugged too tight. This was the worst part about having agents stop at the apartment. They were always so broken, and Izuku could only fix so much. 

“You know something, don’t you?” Keigo asked after calming down. Izuku pulled away, sitting once again against the cupboard. 

“What do you mean?”

“The ghosts. One of them told you something, didn’t they? That’s why you came in.”

“Surprisingly enough, no. I was just coming to ask if you wanted to throw your clothes in the wash,” Izuku said.

“I thought I was being quiet,” said Keigo with half a smile. He seemed exhausted, but not empty like he had been before.

“It probably wouldn’t have mattered if you were quiet or not. I’m nosy,” Izuku joked. “It comes with being the ghost talker. Besides, my mom says my hugs are good for the soul, and I always seem to be in the right place at the right time.”

“Well, I won’t argue with her on that. You’re…a nice kid. I don’t think I’ve ever met a thirteen year old who would take the time out of his day to comfort an old guy like me.”

“Oh, he’s always been like that.” They jumped at the sudden appearance of Izuku’s mom in the doorway. Izuku blushed at her comment. “There was one agent that stopped by when he was five that was gravely injured and needed to be looked after. She had terrible nightmares, the poor thing. I think she was younger than you at the time. Izuku slept on the couch right next to her the entire time she was here.”

“How sweet,” Keigo said, leveling an amused look at Izuku. Izuku blushed harder. “But I can’t imagine that’s always the safest thing, especially with a kid.”

“It’s not,” Mom replied. “I try to limit his interactions with agents, and

I've never left him alone with anyone. We had two separate incidents early on.”

“What incidents?” Keigo asked, an edge to his voice, and Izuku knew instinctively that Hawks wanted to pay someone a visit.

“There was an older agent,” Izuku explained, “that visited when I was four, right after Mom adopted me. And then he kept coming around. It started to get really weird, but Mom ran him off. Haven’t seen him since.”

“It was a good thing I never let that man be alone with him,” Mom said. “I dread to think what would have happened if I hadn’t.”

“What about the second incident?”

“I actually don’t remember that one,” said Izuku.

“An agent tried to kidnap him. They had a drug quirk, and I caught him trying to take him from the playground at school. I went to pick him up early that day, and I’m so glad I did.” Mom’s fingers carded through his hair, and Izuku leaned into the feeling. “Little Katsuki was pounding on the man’s legs with all the little explosions he could muster.”

“Did no teachers see him being taken?”

“Oh, they don’t really care about me,” Izuku said. Mom sighed, that heavy kind of sigh that Izuku hates. “I’m Quirkless, after all.”

“That’s not right,” Keigo muttered.

“It’s not,” Mom replied, “but if we called them out, it would jeopardize our place, and the Commission can’t afford that. What I wouldn’t give to take the entire Commission down and build something else.”

Keigo’s eyes widened, apparently still not used to the idea that the Commission couldn’t hear them. Mom stayed silent for a moment. Her eyes focused on something far away. Keigo shook his head, then a rather uncomfortable look came over his face.

“What about me?” He asked. “I was alone with Izuku just now.”

“What about it?” Izuku and his mom asked in unison. Keigo looked bewildered.

“I’m an agent, more or less. I don’t live here. Why would you let him be alone with me?”

This time it was Izuku’s turn to look bewildered.

“You’re…” He wasn’t sure how to finish his statement.

“You’re the only exception,” Mom supplied. “I raised Izuku, and practically raised you as well. You were barely a teenager, but teenagers are still kids. Remember when you used to come by? It was almost every day at first, and you were as good of a big brother as I could have hoped for for Izuku. You really should come over more often. I love having you around.”

“I…I really mean that much to the both of you? You trust me that much?”

“Yes,” mother and son said in unison. Mom laughed and clapped her hands together. “Now, enough of the heavy topics. Let’s go eat.”

Chapter Text

Izuku didn’t see Hawks for a while after that. It wasn’t the first time Keigo had gone no contact, and it probably wouldn’t be the last, but Izuku was worried. He hadn’t seen Liza, either, until the next week. She appeared suddenly in the middle of the night. The only reason Izuku happened to catch her was because he had woken up from a dream to scribble down a question about All Might’s quirk.

“Hi, Izuku,” Liza said. She phased through Izuku’s desk and his chair didn’t move when she sat. “How’s it hanging?”

“Everything's fine,” he replied, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Liza wasn’t frantic, so he knew he had a moment to wake up. He glanced down at the question he had hastily scribbled in his bedside notebook. In addition to being almost illegible, the question made no sense. Was that word ‘shape-shifting’? It must have been a weird dream that spawned that question. Izuku shook his head, then turned to address the ghost in the room. “Is Hawks all right?”

“Oh, he’s fine. Mostly. He was a lot better after he stayed the night here. The Commission sent him out again, though.”

“They better be careful,” Izuku commented. Liza looked confused, so he elaborated. “If they keep a popular hero away for too long, the public will get upset.”

“I suppose so. And I know I’m not supposed to bother you while you’re sleeping, but I was going to wait until you woke up. I just wanted to give you an update. Didn’t want you and your mom to worry too much.”

“Thanks. And don’t worry about it. I woke up by myself anyway.”

They sat silently until Liza excused herself to go keep an eye on Hawks. Feeling less worried about his pseudo-brother, Izuku tried to fall asleep again. Before he could drift off, Agent Namura passed through the wall. Izuku sighed inwardly, so as not to offend the ghost. Just his luck. Agent Namura had some sort of intel that couldn’t wait till morning.

“What is it?” Izuku asked, already resigned to an early morning meeting at the Commission. His clock read 4:23. “Is the League doing another deal?”

“No, actually,” Namura said.

It was then that Izuku noticed the relaxed tension surrounding the dead agent. Usually, the ghost seemed keyed up, like all the pressure in the world sat on his shoulders. Now, he almost seemed relaxed. Namura sagged into Izuku’s desk chair. To Izuku’s utter shock, Namura smiled. It wasn’t that Namura never smiled, but the ghost never smiled like this. It was odd, like he was actually happy. No, happy was the wrong word. Relieved, more like. Namura was relieved about something.

“I came to give you a head’s up,” the ghost continued. “The Commission is sending you on a mission.”

“Then why are you smiling? You hate it when the Commission does that.”

“I do, usually.” Namura went to fiddle with a pen Izuku had left out, but his hand phased through it. He clasped his hands instead. “You’ll be going with a friend of mine. Someone I trust with my life. Or, well, trusted . Can’t really trust him with my life right now, can I?”

Izuku humored him with a laugh. He still wasn’t fully awake.

“Anyway, he’ll be here at 5:15. Madam President will be here as well. She wanted to catch you off guard, but I didn’t stick around to find out why.”

“It’s because she doesn’t want him getting cocky,” said a girl’s voice from behind him. Izuku would have jumped, but the number of times Hana had crawled through his wall to curl up on his bed defied numbers. The little girl may have been born almost ten years before him, but she acted the age she looked. She held out her hands, and Izuku charged her so she could sit in his lap with the blanket over her legs. Hana had sought him out when he was little, and they had been fast friends. Now, she was more like his little sister. “The League is sleeping and I was bored.”

“Well, I guess we’ll just sit around and wait. There’s only another forty five minutes until they get here.”

“I would say you should rest, but I doubt it would help,” Namura said. He muttered something under his breath about how he maybe should have waited.

“I was already awake,” Izuku replied. “Why don’t you tell me about your friend? Is he a pro hero too or just an agent like you?”

“He’s a pro. An underground hero named Eraserhead.”

“I’ve heard other agents talk about him. Is he as scary as they make him out to be? They say he’s like Death incarnate.”

Namura chuckled.

“Death warmed over, more like. I swear, the man only ingests coffee and jelly pouches. He’s a good man, though. And a good teacher. He teaches at UA. You could learn a thing or two from him.”

Izuku’s pulse raced. A UA teacher. He was going to go on a mission with a UA teacher. So. Freaking. Cool! 

“What’s his Quirk? Is it something that helps him camouflage? Or does he have to use his own skills to blend in? Is he nice? Does he do undercover missions often? How long—“

“Easy, there, Midoriya. Slow down.” Namura held his hands up. “Take it one question at a time.”

“Okay.” Izuku took a breath. “What’s his Quirk?”

“Erasure. He can erase the quirk of someone he looks at.”

“Whoa. That probably doesn’t work on mutations, though, but it could possibly affect—” Izuku’s words dissolved into barely distinguishable mutters about the logistics of such a Quirk. Namura patiently waited until he was done. “Okay, second question, is he nice? Will I have to be on my best behavior or…?”

“Eh…” Namura drew a breath through his teeth. “Thaaaat’s kind of…hard to say. He’s…how do I put this? Eraser is every bit as scary as the other agents make him out to be, but only if you’ve earned his wrath. I’d say his main character trait would be ‘grumpy.’ But not all the time. I saw him laugh once. Don’t tell anyone that, though, or he might kill me again.”

“Huh, this is a nice little place.” 

Both the boy and the ghosts in his room jumped. Someone was outside Izuku’s bedroom door. His mind raced. No footsteps heard and a very slight glow coming through the crack under the door. Izuku let out a relieved breath. Just a ghost, who peeked his head through the wall. The ghost was a boy, maybe a few years older than Izuku, with light, cloudy blue hair. His eyes met Izuku’s and he froze.

“So…Hi,” the ghost boy said. “You must be the ghosty guy. Which means you can see me. Weird. Who are these two?”

“As if you don’t know who I am,” Namura said tiredly. He leaned back, pinching the bridge of his nose. He explained to Izuku that they both knew Eraserhead. “And I’m getting tired of you pretending you don't know me, Shirakumo.”

“Sorry, old man, I didn’t recognize you.”

“You’re older than me,” Namura growled, but there was no heat behind it.

“I am eternally youthful, so actually I am younger than you.”

“That isn’t how this works. You were two years older than me when you died. That makes you twenty-eight.”

“False. I turned twenty-nine last week.”

“Happy belated birthday,” Izuku said.

“Thanks, kid.” The cloud haired boy plastered the biggest smile on his face. “The name’s Shirakumo Oboro. You can call me Oboro if you want.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Izuku.”

The sound of frantic shuffling filtered through the closed door, and a moment later Mom eased it open.

“Izuku, sweetheart, you need to get up, and fast. Madam President’s coming, and she has something for you to—oh!” Mom flipped on the lights and did a double take. “You’re…already awake? Why weren’t you sleeping?”

“Agent Namura came to wake me up. Madam President has a mission for me, and she’s bringing a pro named Eraserhead.”

“Eraserhead? Really? Oh, he’s such a lovely young man. I worked with him once, when he was fresh out of school. It’s truly amazing how far he’s come.”

“You knew him?” Izuku, Oboro, and Namura asked in unison, although Mom only heard Izuku. Mom nodded and sighed.

“I wish I would have had you back then. It would have made it easier to get him to open up.”

Izuku turned to Oboro. 

“My mom is the one that the Commission used to send with operatives that needed to have an extra eye on them. Not because they didn’t follow the rules, but because the Commission wasn’t sure what kind of headspace they were in. Having unstable, uncontrollable agents means having an unstable, uncontrollable agency. And the Commission likes control.”

“Man, that must have been when Zashi fought that big bad,” Oboro murmured. “I stayed with him in the hospital that whole week.”

“…who are you talking to, sweetheart?”

“Oh, right, sorry, Mom. Roll call.” Izuku pointed. “There’s a ghost named Oboro right there. Namura is in the chair, and Hana is in my lap.”

“All right, well, Hana, get off Izuku’s lap so he can get dressed. I was told full stealth suit. And Oboro, read the rules listed on top of the fridge. They apply to all ghosts. Izuku, hurry and change, they’ll be here soon.”

“Okay.” The ghosts left to give him some privacy, and he pulled on the dark blue stealth suit he had left in the pile of unfolded laundry he had shoved into the corner of his bed. He had really meant to put his clothes away earlier that day. Instead, he had worked until ten, then slept on top of the clean clothes. He was also fairly sure his mom had done the same thing. Izuku idly wondered if the Commission would be willing to spare a crime scene cleaner to help out. Probably not. 

At 5:15 on the dot, Madam President knocked. Barely waiting for Mom to open the door, Madam President barged in, her heels click-clacking on the hardwood. She glanced at the apartment disdainfully, glaring at the photos on the walls. Oboro reclined on the couch, Namura stood glaring at the president, and Hana sat on Izuku’s helmet, which was on the coffee table. He grabbed his helmet and shoved it on his head. The tinted visor made it so no one could see his face. The less Madam President saw, the better. Izuku wondered where Eraserhead was as he tightened his gloves.

“Good to know you can get ready in a hurry,” she said, as calm as ever.

“Of course,” Izuku replied. The smell of breakfast filtered into the helmet. His stomach didn’t growl, but it came close. Mom excused herself, but he knew she would be watching from the kitchen. He charged Hana’s hand, just in case he needed her to write a message.

“I have a task for you.”

Izuku nodded.

“There are villains who stole essential information from us, and I need you to help someone get it back.”

“Is that someone here, or…?” Izuku had to stop himself from saying Eraserhead’s name. Madam President did not appreciate an agent knowing more than they should. 

“He’ll be along shortly. I am here to set some ground rules. One: do not take off your helmet in front of him. Two: do not act like a child. Your behavior must be that of a professional. Three: do not give him any personal information. That includes your age, name, or grade. He will address you merely as [Vispyros].”

“What’s the meaning behind it?” Izuku couldn’t help but ask. He couldn’t keep the excitement out of his voice, either.

“I knew you’d ask,” Madam President said. Izuku was surprised that she would know that. “It’s a combination of Latin and Greek. It means you can see spirits, more or less.”

Izuku had to suppress an excited shiver. Until now, he had been referred to as Ghost Talker, and even then, it was only by a very small number of agents that were aware of his Quirk. Even the agents that the Commission sent to his mom for help didn’t know about it (Keigo didn’t count). If Izuku had to guess, it was probably one of the best kept secrets in an agency full of secrets. And now he has a hero name that proclaims it for everyone to hear.

“You know, Loud Cloud is great,” said Oboro from the couch, “but that’s a wicked cool name.”

Without moving his head, Izuku focused his eyes on Namura, who seemed angrier and angrier the more Madam President talked.

“She’s really going to try to trick Eraser into not knowing he’s working with a kid? Really! I don’t believe this. And then she goes and gives you something you’ve always wanted as a way to distract from the fact that Eraser won’t know you’re a kid! ”

“Relax, old timer,” Oboro said, “Sho will figure it out the second Izuku opens his mouth. He’s got a pretty kiddie voice.”

Ooh, Izuku wanted to react to that. He did not have a ‘kiddie voice.’ Sure, it wasn’t exactly the manliest voice, but it wasn’t a little kid voice either!

“What’s wrong?” Madam President looked around the room slowly. “Is there a spirit here?”

“Yes.” Then Izuku lied through his teeth, “It’s just Hana. She came to say that the League is sleeping now and that they haven’t done anything yet, but that there might be something happening tomorrow.”

“Tell her to go back and keep an eye on them. It wouldn’t do to miss something.”

Hana stuck her tongue out.

“She heard you.”

“Very well. The last thing I need to tell you is to use the voice changer in your helmet. I don’t care what you make your voice sound like, just change it.”

Namura’s eyes bulged.

“Midoriya, kiddo, I am begging you, use a deep voice while she’s here and switch to a kid voice with Eraserhead. Please don’t let him think you’re an adult.”

Izuku nodded, more to Namura than Madam President. Why Namura was so concerned about it, he didn’t know, but he trusted the ghost.

“I’ll do my best in this assignment.” Izuku’s voice came out of the helmet with a deep timbre. “Thank you for the opportunity.”

Madam President opened the door then, and in came Eraserhead. He didn’t know why, but Eraserhead’s appearance took him a little off guard. It wasn’t often someone showed up without him knowing exactly when they did. Izuku made a mental note to look into that. 

Izuku looked long and hard at the pro hero. He didn’t look like death incarnate to him, but maybe he would have to a villain. His eyes were hidden behind his long black hair and yellow goggles. The utility belt around the man’s waist looked plain, but Izuku was sure there were plenty of surprises in it. His boots were remarkably similar to the ones Izuku wore. Eraserhead’s had tiny black charms on the laces though. Izuku almost laughed, but he caught himself just in time.

“Remember, Eraserhead, no personal questions to the operative. Vispyros, Eraserhead already knows who you are and what you can do. You will accompany and assist him however he sees fit.” And with that, Madam President left. Izuku jerked his head toward the door.

“On it,” Namura said. He disappeared.

“So, you’re Vispyros.”

Izuku couldn’t see his eyes, but he could feel the man’s gaze. Okay, Eraserhead was definitely more intimidating than Izuku had first thought. He turned away, and invited the pro to join him in the small living room. Izuku forced himself to sit through Oboro, who yelped and moved out of the way.

“Not cool, dude.”

“Sorry,” Izuku said instinctively, and he almost jumped out of his skin when his voice came out so deep.

“Sorry for what?” Eraserhead asked, and Izuku just knew the man was raising one eyebrow at him.

“Er, that was, I mean...” Izuku switched the voice changer to a child’s voice. “I mean sorry for the deep voice thing?”

Then the thirteen year old groaned. He sounded like a little girl now.

“Oh, come on!” 

“Trouble with your tech?” Eraserhead asked.

“Yeah. Well, no. It’s - ugh! Just wait a minute and I’ll explain, okay?”

Eraserhead leaned back in the armchair.

“We’re in no rush. Despite the early start, we don’t need to get going for another hour, at least.”

“Oh my cloud, I think he’s already figured out you’re a kid!” Oboro cackled. “That’s gotta be some kind of record. Take off your helmet, let’s see if he really knows or if he just senses it.”

“Izuku, dear, breakfast is almost ready. And Eraser, it’s so nice to see you again after so long!” Mom wiped her hands on a towel as Eraserhead moved to shake her hand. “Oh, none of that, now. Hugs only!”

“I don’t think that’s—“ Eraserhead cut himself off when Mom wrapped her arms around him. And then Izuku saw something impossible. This big, dark, six feet of man melted. Not literally, but Izuku swore all the tension left the man for a few seconds. It returned as soon as the embrace ended.

“There! There’s nothing like a hug from your big sister.”

“He’s your brother?” Izuku exclaimed. He winced at the voice coming from his helmet. Oboro dissolved into a fit of giggles.

“No.” Eraserhead pulled his goggles off and let them hang around his neck. His glare sent chills down Izuku’s spine. “And if you breathe a word of this to anyone—“

“He won’t,” Mom interrupted. She ushered them both into the kitchen.  “Just like you won’t breathe a word about me using his name. And don’t you give me that look, Izuku. I heard the president, and I’ll happily disobey her in my own home.”

Izuku didn’t know how she knew what look he had, but credit where credit was due. Eraserhead, for his part, looked skeptically between them, like he was dissecting them, piece by piece. Izuku wondered what the pro saw. Namura reappeared then.

“I’ve checked everything, there aren’t any new bugs and Madam President is gone. She got in her car and drove away.”

“Finally!” To the mild surprise of everyone, Izuku pulled his helmet off and chowed down on his breakfast. His mom rolled her eyes. Eraserhead sported a carefully crafted poker face.

“You’re…a kid.”

“I’m a teenager.”

“A kid,” Eraserhead repeated. He sunk into a dining chair, one hand on his face. “They think a kid is going to help me—“

“I am going to help you,” Izuku said around the food in his mouth. “I’ve been assigned to, anyway.”

“You realize,” Eraserhead said after a long sigh, “that since you’re a Commission kid, they probably have bugs all over the place, right?”

Izuku shared a look with his mom and the ghosts. That look did not go unnoticed. Eraserhead narrowed his eyes once again. It shouldn’t have been possible, but his eyes narrowed even further when Izuku dug a jelly pouch out of the cupboard. 

“Here. You don’t strike me as much of a breakfast person.”

“I’m not…”

Chapter Text

Breakfast ended, and Shouta led the way down the street. Inko had insisted on him eating a full meal, which was sitting rather heavily in his stomach. A full stomach would be nice an hour or two from now, but he hated the sensation this early in the morning. Inko had also made him promise to keep Izuku safe. Vispyros , he mentally chided himself. It would be all he needed to slip up in the presence of any Commission agents. Not that there were any. The sun wasn’t even up yet. Shouta glowered in the chilly early morning.

“So, how much do you know about me?” Izuku - no, Vispyros - asked. Shouta shrugged, tangling his fingers deeper within his scarf. They were just passing into an abandoned part of the city, so Shouta walked closer to the kid. 

“Enough. Don’t share anything you were told not to.”

“My mom already shared most of it. And I already took my helmet off, which I wasn’t supposed to do. I mean, what are they going to do, incarcerate a kid?”

“They could. Would, even.”

“Nah. I’m too useful, and if they did that I wouldn’t help them.”

And wasn’t that just the most concerning sentence he’d ever heard. The kid fell silent for a while. Something about Izu - Vispyros , reminded him of his students. Maybe he could pull some strings and get him enrolled at U.A. Shouta only knew of one other Commission kid - Hawks - but he had seen what happened to pros and agents alike. Time and time again, he had seen people be broken by the utter disregard shown towards them. He didn’t want that to happen to this bright, sunshiny kid. This kid, who suddenly burst into laughter.

“Hahaha haha ! Oh, oh, that is too good.”

“What?” Shouta’s question came out more like a statement. He gave the boy his best teacher glare.

“Sorry,” Izuku - Vispyros… screw it, Izuku - said. “I just, uh…thought of something funny.”

As…convincing…as that was, Shouta was not amused.

“I’m not going to let you work with me if you lie to me.”

“Sorry,” Izuku said again, immediately more sober. “It’s just…well, how much were you actually told about me?”

“All I know is that you have some way of spying without being detected.”

“Wow, they really didn’t tell you anything, did they, Shouta ?”

Shouta immediately jumped into a defensive stance. How could the kid know his name? Had he hacked a database? Or was his Quirk a psychic one? Izuku giggled, as if he hadn’t just used Shouta’s name. Izuku held up his hands.

“Relax, Eraserhead. I just wanted to see what you’d do.” Izuku turned his head to the side and whispered, “Will you shut up, please? You’re not helping.”

Shouta’s eyes snapped to where the boy was looking. There wasn’t anything there. Maybe he had a radio in his helmet? But that wouldn’t explain why he turned his head. Izuku heaved a sigh.

“Eraserhead, I have two things that I have been requested to tell you. The first is that my Quirk lets me see ghosts. Agent Namura says hi.”

Agent Namura? That’s a name Shouta hadn’t heard in years. The man had gone missing, and Shouta had never been able to find any trace of him. They had been friends, or, at the very least, good acquaintances. How would Izuku know about him?

“Okay, never mind, three things. Second thing, Agent Namura wants you to know that he appreciated your friendship and that he’s glad I’m with you because I deserve a good teacher… He also says he’s very sorry for disappearing and that the Commission covered it up.”

“I…figured.”

“He’s also very glad that you’re with me because…I am not saying that.” Izuku paused, as if listening to someone else. “Okay, okay, fine! I’ll tell him. But only because you’re the only one who will do weekly bug checks for me…they are not daily! Quit acting like it’s the hardest thing in the world. We both know you’d do it even if I didn’t ask!…You’re right. I’m sorry…yes, I appreciate you.”

“Kid?” Shouta was beginning to feel like he was missing out on a lot. Izuku heaved a sigh and went on in a resigned voice.

“I have to tell you that Namura is glad that you’re with me because you need therapy even if you won’t admit it. And apparently, I am therapy incarnate.”

Shouta raised a brow. They continued walking.

“I have a therapist, kid. Most pros do. I’m not going to use you as a therapist.”

“Hm. Noted and appreciated.” Once again, Izuku looked off to the side for a long moment. “Look, I’m not going to say everything, okay? I’m not a phone. If you want, after the mission is done, I’ll charge your hand and you can write a letter. For now, just choose one thing . One…all right, Eraserhead? Oboro would like to know if you still have the cat ears.”

Shouta felt like he’d been punched in the gut. Oboro…? Oboro was here…? Shouta’s breathing quickened to the point of hyperventilation. There was no way…he needed to sit down. Now. He planted himself on a dilapidated brick wall and took several calming breaths. And then he took several more. Of all of the things to come out of this kid’s mouth…

“Oboro?” Shouta was almost embarrassed at how squeaky his voice sounded saying that name. Izuku put an awkward hand on his shoulder.

“Uh, Oboro wants you to know that he’s proud of you, and he knows you missed him, but he’s been with you all this time in spirit. Well, with you and someone named Zashi. He says he’s really really proud of you.”

So much for the kid not being a phone. Shouta put his face in his hands for a long time, willing the tears to go away. Oboro was…proud of him. And suddenly, he was being hugged by the kid. When Izuku pulled away, Shouta actually felt a lot better. Almost unnaturally so…

“Sorry if that was too much. Oboro and Namura both said to give you a hug. I trust Namura, and I think Oboro must really like you, so I just…did it.”

“It’s—“ Shouta cleared his throat. He never showed his emotions like this, and he hated that he was showing anything to a kid. It wasn’t the kid’s responsibility to be like this. “It’s fine. I just needed a minute. It’s not every day that your dead friends make contact with you.”

“So you believe me? About my Quirk?”

“I’ve got no reason not to. Why?”

“Eh, well, some of the agents that have to work with me don’t believe me even if I tell them. Usually I don’t tell them at all. It’s easier for everyone.”

“What about school?” Shouta asked, resuming their walk. “I can’t imagine it’s easy with a Quirk like yours.”

“Oh, I’m diagnosed Quirkless.”

That made Shouta stop in his tracks. What in the world was the Commission thinking? He wondered if Izuku knew about the statistics for Quirkless people, about the death rates. Shouta knew. He also knew how cruel kids could be. And then he found himself wondering, how was Izuku so seemingly happy? Maybe it was for show, and he was secretly depressed? Except, the hug. When Izuku had hugged him, he had sensed that the kid was perfectly fine, and that in turn had made him perfectly fine.

“We’re going to circle back to that.” Shouta checked his phone. The meeting he needed intel on wouldn’t start for another thirty minutes. “In the meantime, I want to know what your Quirk does with living people.”

“What do you mean?” Izuku cocked his head to the side.

“When you use it on living people, what does it do?”

“Honestly, I’ve never actually tried. It wasn’t until this morning that I realized I could sense people. Or in your case, not sense them. I’ve never met someone who just…wasn’t there. Ghosts have a strong presence, but living people still have some, I guess. I just thought, well…I never thought to question it. It’s like the world being blurry for your whole life and then getting glasses. The blurriness is normal, until someone shows you it’s not.”

“Okay.” Shouta was definitely getting this kid enrolled at U.A. Clearly, the Commission was dropping the ball with him. “I want to talk to you about that again later. Preferably with a colleague of mine.”

Shouta did not mention that the colleague was actually his boss.

“Why?” Izuku had his head cocked to the side again.

“Because I think he’d be interested, and he could help you learn more about your Quirk.” Shouta paused to let that sink in, then changed the subject before the kid could ask more. “Now, back to the Quirkless thing. Why would you be diagnosed?”

“It’s my cover,” replied Izuku, absentmindedly kicking a stray pebble. The kid didn’t seem all that concerned, as if that was the most normal thing in the world. Which it was not.

“And how has that been?”

“Not great, usually. People don’t like me much.”

The pro hero found that extremely hard to believe. In all of two hours, this kid had gotten closer to Shouta actually liking him than his entire class had this year. Once again, he found himself wondering if it was related to Izuku’s Quirk. 

“You have a phone kid?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Is it monitored?”

“Almost definitely. But I have this,” Izuku showed Shouta a smartwatch on his wrist. “It’s a super old vintage model. Mom got it for me when I started going on missions. It doesn’t have GPS or a microphone so the Commission can’t use it against me.”

Yet another concerning statement, delivered as if it didn’t matter.

“Can it send and receive messages?”

“Yeah. Mom uses it just to check on me. I can actually get calls on it, but I need earbuds for that.”

“Start a new message.”

“Um…okay? To who?” Izuku winced, and looked past Shouta. “Will you stop cackling? We are on a mission…it is not!” He turned his attention back to Shouta. “Can you please tell Oboro that this is not a mission to adopt a child? Oh, great, he’s laughing harder now.”

“Just…” Shouta pinched the bridge of his nose. And, feeling incredibly silly, he spoke to thin air. “Oboro, I miss you, but can you please not distract Iz…Vispyros?”

“He says sorry and you’re avoiding the question.”

“I’m not adopting anyone, thanks. Now, Vispyros, I want you to put a number in your watch.” Shouta listed his personal phone number. “Call or message it whenever you need. Even if it’s something small.”

“Are you serious?” The excitement and surprise in Izuku’s voice didn’t escape Shouta’s attention.

“Deadly.”

“Was…was that a joke?”

He didn’t answer. Soon enough, they came to the fence around the warehouse. Shouta held up a hand, and Izuku immediately fell silent. They hid in an abandoned building across the street, where the boy sent the ghosts in. And they waited. And waited. And waited.

“Are you sure they can’t be captured?”

“No one believes in ghosts, and even if they did, they can’t see them. At most, they feel a chill in the air. The stupid League with their stupid hot rooms have been trying to counteract it.” Izuku said the last thing in more of a mutter. Luckily, the boy’s gaze was trained on the building, not on Shouta’s shaking shoulders as the man stifled a laugh. 

“I take it these ‘hot rooms’ were incorporated in response to your prying?”

“Yeah. Couldn’t be anything else.” Izuku sighed. “That’s what I get for using a six year old in recon. It’s not her fault though! She’s just short and doesn’t like going only halfway through a wall.”

“…what?”

“Oh, one of my ghosts, Hana, she’s been my friend since I was a kid. I think if she was alive she would be closer to twenty or thirty. I’m not super sure. All I know is that her brother is part of the League and she wants to help him. Uh, not like help him as in help him be a villain or anything! She just wants him to be safe, and he isn’t. She won’t tell me who he is, though. Oh, here come Namura and Oboro.”

The boy frowned, and Shouta followed his gaze out of habit. Of course, there was nothing there, nothing he could see. 

“What’s wrong?”

“They’re running. As fast as they can…they’re yelling but I can’t hear them yet…” A look of confusion grew on the kid’s face. “They’re yelling kami…something? Kami…kaze?”

Immediately, Shouta effortlessly tossed Izuku over his shoulder and booked it towards the back door of the building. Just as he turned the door knob, a blast threw them into the wall. Shouta smelled smoke. He couldn’t feel Izuku any more. Ringing in his ears made it hard to hear. When he tried to move, he couldn’t. A chunk of the ceiling had him pinned to the floor. Panic welled up in his chest, but he forced it down. He had to find the kid. 

He could still wiggle his toes, and aside from feeling bruised to the moon and back, he thought he was all right. Which meant all he needed to do was get out from under the ceiling. Gradually, he wriggled his way out using his capture scarf. By the time he was free, his hearing had returned.

“Kid?” Shouta could barely see through the smoke and dust. Parts of the building were on fire. He absentmindedly wound his scarf over his face as he searched for Izuku. “Izuku, can you hear me? Where are you?”

A small noise, like a whimper, came from his right. Shouta followed the sound, where he found Izuku laid against the wall, not under any rubble, thankfully. And then Shouta saw the red staining Izuku’s hands. Okay. Everything would be okay. He just had to get the kid out of this smoke and to a hospital. 

“Everything’s gonna be okay, kid,” Shouta said as he got closer. He put his arms around the boy, but when he tried to lift him, his hands phased right through. Shouta tried again, with the same result. “Izuku, what’s going on?”

Izuku didn’t respond, seemingly unconscious. Not knowing what else to do, Shouta kept talking while trying to lift the boy every so often. The eleventh time was the charm. The pro hero got out as fast as he could, and in the alley behind the building he started with the first aid procedure that had been drilled into him so many years ago.

---------

When Izuku came to, it was to three very concerned faces. There was a crack in his visor as well.

“Ouch,” he groaned. He felt like he’d been hit by a truck. Sitting up, he said, “Well, I guess I didn’t get isekai-ed since you three are still here. What happened?”

Eraserhead and Oboro spoke at the same time.

“I’m so sorry, I should have stayed to keep watch over you two!”

“There was an explosion. Are you all right?”

Izuku felt the crack on his visor, nodded, then winced.

“My head kinda hurts, and my arms…” His arms were already covered in bandages, as well as his right hand. 

“You scared me, Izuku.”

The boy startled at the emotion in the pro’s voice. Eraserhead did not seem like the kind of person that would admit that kind of thing. 

“Did you know you could turn intangible?”

“I can’t…can I?”

“I almost didn’t get you out.”

The building rumbled above them. Eraserhead grabbed Izuku and ran further away. Izuku would be embarrassed, but the roof collapsed inwards. A large chunk of the wall landed where they had been not five seconds ago. Suddenly the shoulder digging into his stomach wasn't so uncomfortable. When Eraserhead deemed that they were far enough away, he stopped, unceremoniously dropping Izuku. The teen staggered to his feet. Eraserhead leaned against a building, chest heaving. 

“That may have been a bit of an overreaction on my part,” the man admitted, “but we should be safe.”

“Rather safe than sorry,” Izuku said. “And I don’t think it was an overreaction at all.”

Oboro chimed in with, “He just carried you ten blocks. It was an overreaction.”

“Ten blocks?” Izuku asked vacantly. It had not seemed that far. Eraserhead sat heavily next to him. Their backs leaned against a dilapidated building. A sense of dejavu came over him as he remembered sitting with Keigo like this. Eraserhead wasn’t having a breakdown, though, as far as he could tell. The man was just coming off of an adrenaline high. “So…I was intangible, then.”

“Yeah.”

“Huh.”

Eraserhead looked at Izuku, barely turning his head. “How much does the HSPC work with you on your Quirk?”

“I do recon with ghosts all the time. Although, I’ve started going on missions recently, mostly to clean up after Hawks busts somebody. It’s kind of fun.”

The pro gives Izuku an indiscernible look before saying, “They don’t work with you at all, do they? You just work for them.”

Izuku had never heard it put that way, but he couldn’t deny the man’s words. He didn’t like that. Instead of answering, he changed the subject.

“You never answered Oboro’s question.”

“We’re a bit past that, don’t you think?”

“No, actually,” said Oboro, “now that you’re both safe, he really needs to answer that.”

“Oboro would like you to answer as well.”

Eraserhead glared into space. It was funny to Izuku that people acted like they could see ghosts like he could. One of these days, he would have to tell more people about his Quirk and see if they acted the same way. Izuku gently pushed the pro’s face so he could glare at Oboro properly. The ghost glared right back.

“Shouta, if you don’t answer whether or not you still have the cat ears, I’ll tell him about the 3C Incident. The second one.”

Izuku repeated Oboro. Namura, who had been keeping watch, spared a curious glance at the other ghost and his old friend. Eraserhead glared more fiercely, but a very, very light blush tinted the man’s cheeks.

“Yes, I still have them.”

“What’s the 3C Incident?” Izuku asked. “And why are there two?”

“None of your business, kid.”

“I’ll tell you later,” Oboro cackled.

“…Sure.”

“Now,” Eraserhead groaned as he stood. “Let’s get you to a hospital.”

Chapter Text

When his mother found out what had happened on their recon mission, she nearly lost her mind. And perhaps had a heart attack. She even gave Eraserhead an earful, which Izuku kept his helmet on for so he could smirk. He didn’t think Eraserhead deserved it, but it was kind of funny seeing someone over six feet tall get lectured by someone who was barely over five feet. Eraserhead apparently had some sort of sixth sense, because he glared at the teen.
“I can feel you smiling, Izuku. Stop it.”
Unfortunately for him, that comment brought him to Mom’s attention.
“And you, young man!”
Izuku winced, bracing himself for his own lecture. He glared back at Eraserhead, who was now sporting the same smirk that Izuku had had a moment ago. All things considered, getting lectured was not technically the worst thing to happen to the two of them in the last twenty four hours. It was Izuku’s least favorite part of it, though. He hated upsetting his mother.
Just then, the door burst open. Mom and Eraserhead both jumped into defensive positions in front of Izuku. They didn’t need to worry, though.
“I have had it with the freaking Commission!” Hawks stomped into the room, a suitcase under each arm. “They raise me to be their perfect little soldier - which I was happy to do at first - and this is the thanks I get?! First, they bug my friggin’ house, but no surprise there, honestly. Then! And then! They decide that apparently they don’t trust me enough to have my own place any more, so they send another agent to literally watch me like I’m five years old! They tried following me into the friggin’ bathroom!”
Mom relaxed, and Eraserhead followed suit a moment later. Hawks dropped his suitcases next to the couch and plopped down. He still hadn’t noticed the extra adult in the room.
“That wasn’t even the worst of it! There was this little girl, daughter of some drug lord or another. I went in, took out the drug lord, and then Madam President got angry that I took the girl and her mother to a women’s shelter instead of ‘dispatching them like you should have done’, as if that’s even remotely moral! Or legal. I refuse to hurt innocent people like that. I mean, the guy had both of them locked up, for crying out loud! It’s not like they’d take over the family business. The mom cried so hard when I dropped them off. She wouldn’t stop thanking me.” Hawks shook his head. “I am so done with the Commission. Which is actually why I’m here…”
It seemed Keigo had finally realized Eraserhead was there. Mom had a poorly hidden smile on her face, like she was trying not to laugh. Izuku didn’t care enough to hide his laughter.
“Oh…um…hi, Eraser.”
“Hawks.” Eraserhead raised a brow. Izuku tried to smother his laughter, and Mom let out a snort. “You were going to explain why you’re here?”
“Heh, uh, yeah. I was just going to ask if I could stay here…what are you doing here?”
“A mission. Supposed to be recon, and apparently ‘Vispyros’ was the best agent for the job.”
“Vispyros? Who… Oh, right, okay. That’s your new name, isn’t it? Yeah, he probably is. Not much can get past him.”
Izuku blushed at the compliment. Behind him, Izuku could hear the ghosts chatting as well.
“Hey, there, I’m Oboro. What’s your name, pretty lady?”
“Liza, and I’m way too old for you.”
“Ah, but you forget, we’re ghosts! I’m actually the same age as Shouta.”
“Who?”
“The hobo man over there talking to Hawks.”
Izuku doubled over in laughter. Oh, that was too good. Eraserhead did look a little like a hobo. The three non-ghost adults turned to where Izuku sat clutching his stomach.
“What’s so funny?” Mom asked knowingly. Izuku tried answering, but couldn’t get words out. He ended up just pointing in Eraserhead’s direction. The pro hero grimaced, and gave Mom an apologetic look.
“He…might…still have some anesthesia in his system.”
“Anesthesia?!” Mom and Keigo said in unison. Izuku was pretty sure those had worn off already.
“He’s fine,” Eraserhead said hurriedly. “I took him to the hospital for his arms, and a possible concussion. The doctors said he was fine.”
“So what was the anesthesia for?” Keigo demanded. He stood with his wings splayed out. He seemed agitated, Izuku thought.
“I don’t see how it’s any of your business—“
“But it is mine,” Mom interrupted. Ooh. That was her serious tone. Izuku didn’t want to be on the receiving end of that. Eraserhead sighed, and pulled out some papers from his utility belt.
“These detail everything. He really is fine. He didn’t have a concussion. The anesthesia was a precaution. The healer they have on staff at the moment has a healing Quirk that allows them to fix anything. The problem is that it works so fast that patients’ bodies react…violently, unless they’re sedated. As for any psychological damage, if anything comes up, I have the numbers of a few good therapists.”
Izuku was touched. Eraserhead was full of surprises, it seemed. He already knew about the specialist, obviously, because he had been there. But the hero was concerned about him! He wondered idly if he had noticed that before, or if he was just realizing it now. He shrugged. It didn’t really matter. Izuku became distracted by the ghosts for a minute.
“Oh, come on, Miss Liza, I promise I can show you a real good time!”
“Leave her alone, Oboro,” Namura said. “She’s not interested.”
“You are cute, Oboro-chan, but in a puppy kind of way.” Liza chuckled. “Besides, I think your hobo over there is more my type.”
“What?!”
Izuku lost it again. He couldn’t help it. Unfortunately, no one else could hear the shenanigans, so to the others, he probably looked a little insane.
“Are you sure he doesn’t have a concussion?” Keigo asked. He knelt next to Izuku and pulled his helmet off. “Hey, bro, you okay?”
The boy forced himself to take a deep breath and tried to address Keigo’s concerned face with seriousness.
“I’m fine. I’m pretty sure the anesthetic wore off at least an hour ago. The ghosts are just…Oboro called Eraserhead—“
“You can call me Aizawa.”
“Oh, sure. Oboro called Aizawa a hobo man, and he’s been trying to flirt with Liza but—“
“Don’t you dare,” said Liza. Izuku gave her a mischievous grin.
“—but Liza said she thinks he’s cute but she prefers the hobo man.”
To his credit, Eraserhead didn’t react. He kept a perfectly stoic face. Somehow, though, Izuku knew the man was blushing inwardly. Actually, Izuku could feel it. He could feel everyone’s feelings. Eraserhead’s embarrassment and confusion weren’t strong, but Keigo’s concern and relief, Mom’s amusement, Liza’s mortification, Namura’s curiosity, and Oboro’s mischievousness were very strong. All things considered, it was a little much. Pressure started building in his head, right behind his eyes. Okay, it was more than a little much. He rubbed his eyes, looked up, and immediately wished he hadn’t. The room spun. He dully heard Eraser—no, Aizawa—say something, but he didn’t catch what it was because everyone’s emotions suddenly changed.
A large bowl was forced in front of him, and just in time. Izuku puked. He was glad he was already sitting on the floor, because he probably would have fallen if he wasn’t. Everyone’s emotions settled on either being concerned or worried, and Izuku sighed in relief. Two emotions were easier to deal with than all the different ones before. He took a few deep breaths.
“You okay, kid?” Aizawa asked. It was his hand holding the bowl.
“How did you know that was coming, Eraser?” Keigo asked.
“He made a face. I work with headstrong teenagers who don’t like to admit when they’re sick or hurt. I know that expression when I see it.”
Izuku patted the man’s hand in gratitude.
“Thanks,” he said weakly.
“No problem, kid.” Aizawa raised from his crouched position, presumably to clean out the bowl. Mom sat down next to him, and he leaned into her side. His head still spun, but it wasn’t as bad now. They sat silently for a while.
“Are you all right, sweetheart? Does your head hurt, or your arms?”
Izuku could tell what she was actually asking.
“I’m not in pain because of my injuries,” he said. “I think it’s part of my Quirk.”
Everyone’s emotions shifted again, to a strong mixture of relief, confusion, and concern. This time Izuku grabbed his mom’s arm and tried to keep his stomach from rebelling. Luckily, Aizawa had just returned with the bowl. Izuku launched himself at the man, grabbed the bowl, and threw up again. He felt an arm snake around his shoulders, helping to hold him up.
“Maybe we should move you to the bathroom, kid.”
Izuku nodded and let the man lead him there. Everyone else followed close behind, their emotions getting even more complex, and…louder, for lack of a better word. It made him dizzy, and he emptied what was left in his stomach as soon as he reached the toilet.
“Can—“ He took a shuddering breath, willing the tears to stop. Aizawa stepped out of the way, only for Mom to take his place.
“What is it, sweetheart? Do you want some water?”
“Can you all give me some space, please? Ghosts too. I can feel everything you’re feeling, and it’s too much. I-I can’t…uuugh…” he groaned as another bout of nausea rolled over him. It lessened with each person that left. The ghosts left the house entirely, but stayed nearby. Keigo and Aizawa stayed in the living room, which was fine. He could still feel Keigo’s emotions, but they weren’t anywhere near as strong now. Which left his mom.
“Mom?”
“Yes, Izuku?”
“I’m so sorry, but can you go, too? I don’t want to be alone, but your emotions are the strongest out of everyone’s. I don’t know why, I’m sorry, it’s just too…too much—“ Izuku sobbed, tears rolling down his cheeks and falling into the toilet, which his mom flushed before rubbing his back. He could feel how hurt she felt, but also how much she loved him.
“Don’t feel bad about asking me to leave, sweetheart. This won’t last, I’m sure, and I’ll be close enough you can ask for help if you need it.”
“Okay.” He still really didn’t want to be alone. He didn’t know what was going on. If this was part of his Quirk, how did that work? His Quirk was Ghost Talk. It wasn’t emotion-based as far as he knew. Then again, he had always been good at knowing how people felt. Maybe the blast had knocked something into place? He scratched the back of his neck, thinking. The blast…he had also turned intangible. That at least made sense. Intangibility could be an extension of some ghostly part of his Quirk. But the emotion thing…not so much.
Izuku felt more than heard the approach of Aizawa. Even then, the man’s emotions were almost as quiet as he was.
“Here, kid.” He held out a bottle of ginger ale. “Your mom said to give this to you.”
“Thanks.” Izuku leaned back against the tub, tears still wet on his face. He hated throwing up. He took a sip of the soda. Aizawa’s emotions were calm, almost gentle, and, most importantly, quiet. “Could…could you stay with me? You don’t have to but—“
Aizawa was sitting down before Izuku could even finish his thought. The man didn’t look at him, but Izuku could feel the kindness softly radiating off him. Wow. Who would’ve known that Eraserhead, the fearfully respected underground hero, was such a softie? Izuku closed his eyes.
“So,” said Aizawa, “You can feel others’ feelings.”
“Apparently.”
“And you can turn intangible.”
“Apparently.”
“And you’ve never been taught to turn your Quirk off.”
“Appar—wait, what? My Quirk doesn’t turn off.”
“So if I used Erasure on you, you would still be able to see ghosts?”
“Well, I…” Would he?
“Do you want me to try it?”
“Yes,” Izuku said immediately. If it did work, maybe Erasure could stop him from feeling everything. His headache might go away. “Let me summon someone first, though. I want to know what happens with them.”
Izuku summoned Namura, since he was probably the quietest of the ghosts. Then, Aizawa lazily activated his Quirk, and everything went quiet. Izuku collapsed in relief. Namura still stood awkwardly in the doorway.
“You good, kid?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” And then Izuku felt dizzy for an entirely different reason. Everything was too quiet. He had never felt such silence. He couldn’t feel the ghosts, or anyone in the other room. Panic rose in his gut, but he pushed it down. “I can still see Namura, but I can’t feel him, or any of the ghosts any more. An-and I can’t feel…anything. I mean, I can feel my own feelings, but it’s never been this quiet before. It feels wrong. I don’t like it.”
“Can you still hear Agent Namura?”
“I don’t know what to say here,” Namura said.
“I can, but it’s like he’s really far away, or underwater. I guess my Quirk is a mix of a mutation and a normal Quirk,” Izuku muttered, “Erasure canceled out some of the things I can do, but not the actual Quirk. P-Put it b-back, please. Please put it back now, I really don’t like this, I reallydon’tlikethisit’stooquietputitback—“
Aizawa deactivated Erasure, and everything came back full force. Izuku retched into the toilet, and Namura left again. The hero winced.
“Sorry. I didn’t think that would happen.”
“‘s’okay,” Izuku shuddered. “I need t’…ugh…get used…to it.”
“Izuku, are you all right?” Mom called.
“F-fine,” he called back.
“I’ve got him, Inko-san,” Aizawa poked his head out the door. “I’m trying to help him get this under control.”
“All right, then.”
Izuku pinched his eyes closed as he leaned over the toilet bowl. If the pro hero could help him get this under control, that would be great.
“Kid, I want you to try something for me.”
“…‘kay.”
“Focus on me. Try blocking out everything else, and just focus on me and my emotions. Don’t think about anything else, just me.”
Izuku did as he was told, and the overwhelmed part of his mind dulled a little. His breath came in heavy gasps. The more he tried to tune into just Aizawa, the less he felt everything else. The urge to touch him suddenly surged through his veins, and Izuku found himself grabbing Aizawa’s wrist. And then it was just Aizawa, and some oddly parental emotions. It was almost like his mom, but quieter. Izuku could still distantly feel everyone else, but it was like before this whole fiasco. Normal.
“Good, kid. Now try breaking the connection. Slowly, not all at once. If you can do that, it might keep your mind from trying to connect to everything else.”
Once again, Izuku did as he was told. And…it worked. It worked! He felt normal again. He couldn’t help the tears that dripped down his face again.
“Thank you!” Izuku wrapped his arms around Aizawa’s chest and the man let out a little gasp. Maybe he had hugged too hard or too fast, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Already, he felt so much better. He could use some dinner.
The two of them emerged from the bathroom, Izuku happily following Aizawa toward the kitchen.
“Hey, little Zuku, feeling better?” Keigo asked from the couch, where he was reading one of the romance novels.
“Yeah! And it’s all thanks to Aizawa-san!”
“Don’t sing my praises just yet, kid. You have a long way to go.”
“But you did help me.”
“It’s my job to help.”
Izuku rolled his eyes. He knew the man was hiding a smile behind his capture scarf.
“Oh, wonderful,” Mom said, tears in her eyes. “Thank you so much, Shouta-kun. You’re such a big help.”
And now Aizawa was hiding a blush. Izuku thought he was starting to like this new facet of his Quirk. Or was it an old one that had suddenly gotten stronger? Actually, maybe that’s what the blast had done! He had come close to death, and his Quirk responded by getting stronger! He still wasn’t sure how emotions fit into all of this, but he at least had an idea now.
The rest of the evening passed quietly and without incident. As Izuku snuggled into his blankets after Aizawa left, he smiled. The day had been a roller coaster for sure, but a good one. He wondered what the next day would bring.

Chapter Text

The next day brought normalcy. As well as the day after that, and the day after that. With the exception of Keigo staying with them, everything was normal. Until the following Tuesday. 

“Hey, hey kid!” 

Izuku gave a bewildered look to the reporter talking to him. There were at least twenty other reporters and a small group of civilians outside of his house.

“Do you live in this building?”

“Yes…?”

“Is it true that Hawks has moved into this building?”

Ah. That’s why there were so many people. Izuku smirked inwardly. He would answer these people’s questions.

“It’s n-not true at all,” he smiled, playing up the stutter. “If he r-really d-did move here, I th-think there would be more, um, more s-security, don’t you? Plus then the kids at school would be nicer to me.”

“Ugh, you’re no help kid.”

“W-wait, b-but the apartments d-down that way j-just upped their security! May-maybe he’s there?”

The woman muttered to herself before going off to consult her fellow reporters, and then they all booked it down the block. Izuku shook his head. How gullible could they be?

Inside the apartment, Keigo lounged on the couch, feathers dancing in the air around him. He looked up when Izuku sat heavily next to him.

“Long day?”

“Yeah. Reporters were swamping the apartment a minute ago. I got them to go down the street.”

“Niiice.”

“How was your day?”

“Eh. Pretty good. Normal. I used the roof to get to and from work. I thought I’d been doing a pretty good job staying incognito, but I guess not.”

Izuku shrugged, not bothering to say more. The two sat in silence. The boy took a couple of feathers out of the air and fiddled with them until his neck started hurting again. Kaachan’s lackeys had been a little extra rough today, and Izuku thought they may have cut his neck. The only thing was, he couldn’t think of a single time that day where they had actually touched him there. There was a light burn on his forearm, a bruise on his leg, and a small cut on his side. It was more of a scratch, really. Nothing that should be irritating his neck. Izuku wracked his brain as he scratched at it, and tried to think if there had been any injuries recently that would have resulted in this.

“Whatcha thinking about, squirt?”

“Oh, nothing,” Izuku answered with a small smile. “My neck just hurts a little, that’s all.”

“Hurts how?” Keigo sat up. “Did those bullies hurt you again?”

“No, er, well, yes, they hurt me, but I don’t think it was them for this.” Izuku explained the strange irritation while pulling down his shirt collar.

“That looks like you’ve been scratching at it all day.”

“Not really. Just an hour or two.”

“You should probably get that checked out.”

“Eh. It’s probably just a bug bite or something. Actually, where’s Mom? I think she has some anti-itch cream for stuff like this.”

“She’s running errands. Maybe text her.”

Izuku did as Keigo said, then flopped over onto the hero. Keigo let out a small oof , and shifted so they were next to each other. The man sent his feathers into a large pin cushion he had brought with him. Without the feathers, it looked like a giant tomato, much to Izuku’s amusement. With the feathers, it became an odd decoration that you probably wouldn’t see outside of a catalog. They laid there in companionable silence, one reading his romance novel and the other dozing. Quite some time passed like that, until the door creaked open.

“Izuku, Keigo, we have company,” Mom said as she toed her shoes off. Behind her was Aizawa carrying several grocery bags.Izuku shimmied off the couch to greet the other adults.

“Hey, Eraserhead,” Keigo said lazily, not bothering to move.

“Hawks. Shouldn’t you be helping your host with the groceries?”

“You’re not my host.”

“Tch, Keigo,” Mom said in a slightly warning tone.

“All right, all right,” said Keigo with his hands held up defensively. “I don’t mind helping.”

The heroes glared coolly at each other, although it was mostly for show. Izuku could tell. There was a mutual respect between the two. He grinned to himself. 

“What’s that?” Aizawa asked when Keigo set his book down.

“It’s called Soft as a Feather. It’s the second book in this trilogy.”

“Hm. Your taste in literature is abominable.” Before Keigo could indignantly defend himself, Aizawa continued, “Feathers Free was much better.”

Keigo made a choking sound.

“You’ve read—no. No, there’s no way you read this series.”

Oboro popped up behind Aizawa and whispered to Izuku, “He actually did. I think he teared up on that last one.”

Izuku tried to hide a snort, but failed miserably.

“What?” Keigo asked.

“N-nothing,” Izuku shook his head. He followed his mom into the kitchen. Aizawa probably wouldn’t appreciate that fact being told. Hearing what the ghosts wanted to say was one thing, but saying those things in front of multiple people was another. He would feel bad if he purposely gave Keigo blackmail material. Changing the subject, Izuku asked, “So…what brings you here, Aizawa-san?”

“I invited him over for dinner,” Mom said cheerily. “He has an offer for you.”

An offer? Count him interested. Izuku’s mind whirled with thoughts of what it could be. It couldn’t be Commission related, or else Namura would have warned him. As it was, both Namura and Oboro were sitting on the counter with knowing looks. Izuku looked at Aizawa expectantly.

“After dinner, kid.”

Dinner couldn’t end soon enough. Fortunately, it also flew by. Afterwards, the underground hero offered to train Izuku more before school started. How cool was that? He emphatically accepted. 

“You should know we won’t be focusing on any Quirk usage. As much as I would like to train you on that, I can’t legally do it outside of school.”

“That’s okay! I’ll train everything else!”

“We start tomorrow,” said Aizawa.

This was going to be fun!

Chapter Text

…This was not fun. The day had started poorly enough. The bullying had been especially bad today. Several spider lilies on his desk throughout the day had hurt to see, and then Kaachan had…He had come by the apartment with a written apology and tears in his eyes, but he had still said…Izuku had thought training would be better. And it was, in the important ways. There weren’t any spider lilies, and any injuries he sustained were minor and treated quickly. Training involved a lot of weightlifting, as well as agility. Hand to hand combat wasn’t too bad, except when Izuku didn’t block or dodge in time. Even then, he knew Aizawa was taking it easy on him. There weren’t any ghosts today. Oboro was busy trying to woo Liza, and Namura was trying to stop him. Hana, as usual, was watching her brother’s activities.

“Not like that. Try like this.” Aizawa mimed the move he was teaching and Izuku did his best to copy it. “Right, there you go. Now do it against me.”

By the time training had ended, Izuku had the move down, as well as a soreness in his muscles.

“Not bad today, kid.” Aizawa leaned casually against the wall of the dojo he had reserved. Apparently, he knew the owner, and the owner let him use it during certain times of the week. “Same time tomorrow.”

Izuku nodded. It wasn’t as fun as he thought it would be, but the training seemed pretty…reasonable. And it felt good, even though it was a little hard.

“All right. Let’s grab some dinner, then I’ll send you home.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do tha—“

“I decided to work with you during dinner hours, I’ll take care of dinner. I’m not sending you home to your mother with an empty stomach. No arguments.” Aizawa stared at him like he expected Izuku to argue anyway. Not that he would. Izuku shrugged. Mom would inevitably save him some dinner, but he supposed he could eat it for lunch tomorrow.

After stopping at a rather high end restaurant (which Izuku was not allowed to order anything cheap at), they parted ways. Aizawa was nearly late for patrol, Oboro had told him. Izuku would have felt bad about that, but then he realized that Aizawa had done that to himself. He could have called practice off earlier. With a full stomach, the boy headed for home. His neck still itched from yesterday. He really should find some itch cream.

A wall of something wet stopped him. Izuku spat the sludge out of his mouth, then peered up at…a villain? Maybe Aizawa was still close enough to hear him scream? Before he could do anything, the sludge jumped into his throat, proclaiming, “A perfect meat suit! How convenient!”

This…wasn’t good. His vision started going black when the villain had gotten halfway. The sludge curled in his stomach, writhed in his throat. He would have puked, if the villain hadn’t been in the way. Izuku was dimly aware of a woman shouting, and a man saying something softly nearby. 

“SMASH!!!”

Suddenly, the suffocating sludge disappeared, leaving Izuku coughing and hacking on the sidewalk. Izuku looked up at his savior, only to start choking for a different reason.

“HA HA! I have caught you finally, villain!” All Might exclaimed. Izuku’s eyes bugged out of his face. All Might. Was here. In front of him. There were several ghosts around him, but the sheer disbelief Izuku felt pushed them to the back of his mind. This was All. Freaking. Might. “I must go now!”

“Wait!” Izuku reached for All Might as the man prepared to jump. “Can I have your autograph-aaaaaaaaah!”

All Might jumped. Izuku hadn’t meant to grab on, but the motion had been so sudden that he just latched onto the first thing he could to prevent himself from being thrown through the air. As it turned out, the action had the opposite effect of what Izuku had intended. Instead of being safely held on the ground, Izuku soared through the air. All Might noticed, thankfully, and set down on a roof.

“Jeez, kid, do you have a death wish or something?” All Might asked. Izuku took a few shaky steps. 

“Jeez, All Might, do you ever make sure victims are taken care of before leaving them at the scene of their almost murder?” The snark hadn’t been intentional. Izuku was still dizzy, and he momentarily forgot his figurative mask. Several people snickered. When Izuku looked up, there were four ghosts sitting on the roof’s edge behind All Might. A woman with black hair, a man with a scar on his face, a man with a bandana, and a skinny man with white hair. The hero himself looked taken aback. Smoke came off of him in little tendrils.

“Oh, Toshi,” one of the ghosts sighed. She twirled her dark hair in her yellow gloved fingers. “You’re going to let the kid see your secret, aren’t you? This could have been avoided, you know. And I can’t believe you were just going to leave him. That’s so unlike you.”

“What—“ secret was what Izuku was about to ask, but it was answered before he could. All Might - big, indestructible, incredible All Might - poof -ed into a very tall, very skinny man in very baggy clothes. Izuku bit back a scream. 

“Ah–” the man coughed, and blood spewed from his mouth. Izuku’s near scream turned into a wary glare. “Excuse me. I apologize.”

“What was that?!”

“Ah, well, you see–” The man stopped, seeming as if he was trying to find an excuse for his sudden change. He sighed, and Izuku got the impression he had decided to tell the truth. “Many years ago, I was wounded gravely by a villain.” 

He lifted his shirt, revealing a terrible looking wound, and most of the ghosts lost it. One of them laughed so hard he actually fell backward off the roof, only to soar back up several seconds later. Izuku’s surprise showed on his face. Most ghosts could handle a simple hover a couple of feet off the ground. The more powerful ones could maybe make it ten feet. The ghost that had fallen could have easily reached the ground in that time, and shot back up just as quickly as he fell. Izuku scratched at his neck, idly wondering how powerful these ghosts must be. And then he thanked his lucky stars that they weren’t evil.

“I know, it’s not pretty,” said the man who used to be All Might. Izuku had momentarily forgotten where he was and what he was supposed to be doing. He shook himself mentally. “Because of this, I was forced to cut back on my hero work. I’m down to a mere three hours per day.”

“Oh, I wondered about that,” Izuku said. The hero gave the boy an incredulous look, so Izuku elaborated. “Because you used to do an average of ten hours of hero work per day after your debut, then seven after you became popular with the media. But in the last few years, your averages have gone down significantly. You must be spreading everything out throughout the day, though, to give the illusion that you’re still out there all day every day. Which would be good for civilian morale–”

“Dang, the kid’s a chatterbox, isn’t he?” One of the ghosts said as Izuku devolved into a stream of muttering. The boy had noticed the comment, though, and stopped.

“Sorry.” Izuku positioned himself so that he seemed to be awkwardly avoiding All Might’s gaze while leveling his best glare at the ghost.

“It’s quite alright, young man,” said All Might at the same time the ghost asked, “Was he looking at me?”

“Um…could I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

“Do you…think that someone Quirkless c-could be a hero? O-or someone with a Quirk that isn’t suited to heroics?”

“Are you asking for you, or for a friend?”

“Um…both? I…I’m…Quirkless.” Izuku felt an unexpected twinge of guilt at the lie. “And I was wondering…I mean, I-I’m already learning h-how to fight, I just wondered…”

“In my experience, young man, without a Quirk, you can’t become a hero.”

“O-oh.”

“But there are other kinds of heroes, like police officers or firefighters. Not everyone is suited to traditional heroics, but you can always find a place if you look hard enough. You just need to be realistic.”

A nagging feeling of despondency settled in Izuku’s gut. Even though he could interact with ghosts, his Quirk probably wouldn’t help him much if he wanted to be a spotlight hero. Which, although he hadn’t thought about it in a while, he did. Doing missions for the Commission was…fine. It wasn’t really what he wanted to do. He had really wanted to be someone cool, someone like All Might. For a tiny second, Izuku wondered what might happen if he just looked too far over the edge of the roof. Then, he mentally pushed the intrusive thought away. That was a dangerous line of thinking, and one that Izuku didn’t like. He didn’t have the easiest life, but there was still good in it. And even if his hero, his idol, didn’t think he could be a hero, maybe the other heroes in his life did.

“So…” Izuku took a few steps toward the edge of the roof. All Might tensed, anxiety radiating off of him in waves. Izuku went right to the edge, just to bother the man. Served him right for trying to leave a civilian victim in the street and then crushing that civilian’s dreams. “I assume you’re out of time. How are we supposed to get down from here?”

“Uh…” All Might joined him at the edge. One of the ghosts from before, the woman, sighed next to the two of them.

“You’re both smart,” she said. “Surely you can figure something out. There’s a roof access behind you. In plain sight.”

Izuku grinned mischievously in his head. 

“You know,” he said, “We’re both pretty smart. I’m sure we could figure something out.”

The boy very nearly burst out laughing when the ghost looked at him like he had grown a second head. 

“There’s probably a roof access,” said All Might, still looking out at the city.

“Oh, there is. It’s right behind us. In plain sight.”

“Can…he…hear me?” The woman wondered aloud. Casually, Izuku stretched and started toward the door. He shot her a wink on his way. “What…Hey, kid!”

Izuku ignored the woman. She would probably follow him until he acknowledged her again, which wouldn’t be for a while. Not with All Might two steps behind him.

“Listen, young man, I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell anyone about this. It’s supposed to stay secret.”

The boy fought the urge to roll his eyes.

“I can keep a secret, All Might. Or whatever your real name is. It’s not hard.” Unless the ghosts decided they wanted something. Then it was very hard. “Besides, I don’t think the hero commission would like it if this got out.”

The blond frowned, eyebrows furrowed. 

“What an odd concern for a child to have,” the man muttered. 

“Darn right, Toshinori! Come on, there’s something off about this kid. Ask him about it!”

The stairwell ended, finally, and the two living beings exited the building. Two of the ghosts had followed, the other two having chosen to drift down from the roof. Izuku fought to keep his eyes off of them. Past a certain height, ghosts would fall just like the living. The threshold for a ghosts’ hovering had always been directly connected to how strong the ghost was. Izuku still couldn’t wrap his mind around how strong these four must be.

“I apologize, but I must get this villain to the police. Can you find your way home?”

“What?” The little amount of starstruck-ness that had somehow lingered in Izuku’s chest vanished. “Are you being serious right now?”

“What the crap, Eight?!” One of the ghosts, the one with the scar and the ginger hair, glared at All Might. The ghost with the black bandana mimed a punch at the skeletal man. It passed right though, but All Might shivered nonetheless. “You’re going to leave a victim - a child , no less - to go home by himself, after everything he just went through?!”

“I’ll be fine,” said Izuku, brushing past the number one hero. That was a total lie. His throat still burned. Some of the slime had made it into his shoes, which was uncomfortable in an entirely different way. He eyed All Might’s pocket, where the villain was…or used to be. “I’ll be fine…but you might want to find that villain.”

With that, Izuku left the hero behind. A few choice swears were muttered behind him, and then the tell-tale whoosh of All Might jumping away rustled his hair. Huh. The man must have had a little more time than he had thought. He heaved a sigh and started back to the apartment. What would Keigo think of what happened today? Or Aizawa? It was doubtful that either of them would be very happy about it. Izuku scratched at his ever-itchy neck. Of all the ways to meet All Might, this had to be the worst. As he kicked a pebble down the sidewalk, Izuku became aware that he was being followed. Once he got closer to home, he ducked into an alleyway. Normally he would have this conversation at home, but he didn’t really want his mom to overhear anything about the sludge villain from earlier. He was fine, and there was no need to worry her.

“I’m telling you, Kudo, the kid winked at me. We need to find out what’s going on.”

“It’s probably nothing, seven. Maybe he had something in his eye.”

“He most definitely did not. He was grinning.” The two ghosts peeked their heads around the edge of the buildings, eyes settling on where Izuku had sat down. “Poor kid, though. He looked like he’d had a rough day.”

“I did,” he said. The ghosts both stilled. “I had a very rough day. The first thing you should know about me is that I’m Quirkless. And the second thing you should know about me is that the first thing is a lie. You can come closer, if you want. Might make me look less crazy if I’m muttering to myself instead of talking to thin air.”

The woman - Seven? - took a tentative step forward. The man just waltzed right in.

“Why are you hesitating, Nana? We’re dead. Nothing can hurt us.”

“We’re strangers to him. I’d be wary of strangers, even if they were dead.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” said Izuku, head resting on the wall behind him, “I can command ghosts to do what I want. Even if you did try to harm me, I could stop you easily.”

He didn’t mention how commanding ghosts gave him a splitting headache. He did his best to avoid it. The woman, Nana, seemed a little perturbed, but joined her friend in front of Izuku. They sat in front of him.

“I’m Nana,” said the woman, “and this is Kudo. Sorry for his lack of manners.”

“It’s fine. My name is Izuku.”

“Nice to meet you kid,” said Kudo. They all stared at each other when the boy didn’t answer.

“So…” Izuku said after a minute. “I assume you have questions.”

“I think most of her questions were answered when you spoke to us.” Kudo shared a glance with Nana, who nodded. “But I think I speak for the both of us when I ask: are you really all right? That villain was no joke. And Eighth really should have taken you to the hospital or something.”

“Yeah, he probably should have,” Izuku agreed. He was awfully tired now. “But he didn’t. It was partially my fault. I distracted him. And before you try making me feel better, I did that on purpose. I’m not being self-deprecating.”

“Well, that’s…something.” Nana frowned, and the boy could feel her conflicting emotions. Ugh. Not fun. He tried blocking them out like Aizawa had taught him. Kudo shook his head.

“Yagi really needs to pay more attention. He might have had a busy day, but that shouldn’t have been enough to let a tiny distraction get in his way.”

“So his name is Yagi? Or Toshi? Or is it Eighth?”

The ghosts made guilty faces.

“Well, kiddo, you weren’t really supposed to hear either of those names. It’s meant to be a secret.” Nana grimaced at the deadpan look Izuku gave her. “But I guess I’ll have to make an exception. You already know most of it. His name is Yagi Toshinori.”

“I’m pretty sure Eighth made the exception the second he deflated, Nana.”

“Well, I’m sure–” 

A large explosion rang out nearby. People ran both toward and away from whatever it was. Izuku ran as well, all the weariness from the day disappearing. Those explosions…they sounded eerily like Kaachan’s. The boy pushed his way through a crowd of people who were being held back by heroes. So many heroes were on the scene, including Kamui Woods! Izuku’s hands itched to write, but he noticed the familiar villain. Worse, he noticed and recognized the villain’s hostage.

“We need backup!” One of the heroes shouted. Another said something about Quirks not being suited for this. 

Feet pounding on the ground, backpack ready to be thrown, Izuku ran desperately for his childhood friend. The two ghosts were mere inches behind him. Kaachan’s fear filled eyes found his, and Izuku threw the bag. It wasn’t enough. The sludge still covered Kaachan’s face. The bag dropped right in front of them. No, the green-haired boy thought. No, no, no, no. Please, no! He dug at the sludge, frantically and with all the effort he could muster. The ghosts tried digging as well. They couldn’t get a grip on anything, but…they were trying. They were trying when no one else was, and even if it wasn’t helping, Izuku was so, so grateful for them. He didn’t have time to stop, to charge their hands, but he wished so desperately to save Kaachan. Izuku felt a tug in his gut, and suddenly–

“I’m moving some!” Nana exclaimed. “Keep digging, kid, we’ll help you!”

“It’s not enough,” growled Kudo. He paused just long enough to throw a glowing fist at the villain. “It’s not enough!”

Instead of passing through like the ghost probably expected, his fist connected, and the villain slowed. Not a lot, but enough. Izuku grabbed his backpack from where it had landed and threw it again. This time, it caught the villain in the eye. The villain reared back, and Kaachan took a big breath. From behind them came a loudly proclaimed “SMASH!” and then it was over. The villain was back in a bottle, civilians cheered, and the two boys collapsed on the ground.

“What…was that?” Kaachan rasped. The first responders hadn’t quite gotten to them yet. Still panting, Kaachan went on, “Did you suddenly…develop…a Quirk…or something?”

“Or something,” Izuku said distantly. The medics got to them and began asking questions, mostly about their identities and Quirks. They were less energetic when Izuku said he was Quirkless. After being checked over by the medical personnel, a few heroes cornered the boys. They lauded Kaachan for being so brave, and not giving in, and ‘When you get to be older, come to my agency for an internship.’ And then those same heroes turned to Izuku and told him off for running in like that. ‘What were you thinking’ and ‘what kind of Quirk do you have that made you think that was a good idea’ were the number one questions. Already resigning himself to the outcome, Izuku told them, “I’m Quirkless.” Which brought on an entirely new onslaught of lectures on why what he did was stupid. And then, while they loaded Kaachan onto an ambulance, the medics told him to go home. He sighed. Same old, same old. 

On the bright side, his new ghost friends followed him home. He was more exhausted than ever, and their company was appreciated. Unfortunately - or maybe fortunately? Izuku didn’t know - they weren’t the only ones. A few blocks away from the crime scene, the skeletal form of Yagi Toshinori caught up to him, along with the other two ghosts from before.

“Young man, please wait,” the man gasped. He seemed to have run here in this state.

“Look, All Might, I promise I’ll keep your secret, but I’m tired and I would like to go home.”

“And you will, I promise. I just wanted to thank you.”

“Thank me?” Izuku leaned on a nearby fence to support his weight. “What for?”

“For reminding me of what a hero is. I lost sight of that, at least a bit. One thing that every hero can say is that their feet moved without them telling them to. It was like that for you, today wasn’t it?” Izuku didn’t answer, and All Might went on, “I know I said you couldn’t be a hero, but what if you could?”

“Huh?” Izuku’s head was starting to hurt. 

“Young man, my Quirk…it can be passed on.” All Might explained a bit about it, then, “If you’re willing, I would like to give you the same chance that I was given.”

“I…” This had to be a dream. None of this seemed…real. But what All Might was offering…could it be worth it? Nana got his attention.

“I won’t tell you what to do, kiddo, but if you accept, I think you’d make an amazing successor. You’re already an amazing hero.”

“I accept,” said Izuku. All Might nodded, a smile on his lips. The smile disappeared after a moment.

“Are you alright? You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine. The medics cleared me and everything.”

“I - really? I thought they would at least take you to be evaluated.”

“Nope.” 

“Well, if you don’t mind my knowing, where do you live? I’d like to make sure you get home safely.” 

“Over there,” Izuku swayed. The apartment was so close, within sight even, yet so far. “It’s apartment 23.”

The fence the boy leaned on creaked. His head really hurt now. The sickly looking ghost with the white hair frowned, brow furrowed.

“Eighth, you’re going to need to catch him,” was all Izuku heard before everything went dark.

Chapter Text

Izuku was late. Keigo had finished his work early today, easily early enough to beat the boy home. Even after he remembered that Eraserhead was training him today, he still worried. The kid should have been home an hour ago, at least. The sun was setting already. If it got any later, Keigo would go looking for the kid himself. Inko would probably dissuade him, if only to not draw attention. She would probably contact some nearby friends and enlist them to look. Unfortunately, Inko had been called in to deal with something at the HPSC and wouldn’t be available for another hour, if not longer. Just as Keigo was about to send Izuku another text, there was a knock on the door.

“Who wants what?” Keigo asked in lieu of an actual greeting, then froze when he saw an emaciated blond man carrying an unconscious Izuku.

“Oh, um, Hawks…hello.”

Keigo narrowed his eyes at the familiar man. “All Might?”

“Hello…again…Is this the right address? The young man said apartment 23…”

“Yes, this is the Midoriya apartment.”

“Well, could I come in? I’m by no means as weak as I look in this form, but the boy is rather heavy once you’ve been carrying him a while.”

Instead of moving out of the way, Keigo took Izuku from the man, and led the way to the living room couch. He wrinkled his nose. Some sort of liquid covered the boy from head to toe, and it did not smell good. The hero checked Izuku’s pulse, which was strong, and his breathing, which was a little raspy, but otherwise fine. He turned a glare on the number one hero.

“What happened?”

“Ah, well…” Yagi rubbed his neck awkwardly. “There was an incident today. A villain made of sludge attacked young…Midoriya…and…then got away.”

“I’m sorry, is this the same villain I saw on the news forty five minutes ago? The one that was holding a child captive? Izuku was that child?”

“Yes and no?”

“Well, which is it?”

“He was held captive, yes, but earlier in the day. Then…I saved him, but through some…unforeseen circumstances, the villain got away and attacked a different student, who young Midoriya ran to save.”

“And where were the heroes in this? Where were you?” Keigo asked angrily as he pulled out his phone. Who to contact? He needed to make sure Zuku was alright, but anyone from the Commission would immediately report this. As much help as some of those doctors were to heroes, most didn’t know about Izuku’s Quirk, and unfortunately several were Quirkist. Or suspected to be.

“I apologize, but the heroes on the scene weren’t exactly good to Midoriya. I wasn’t able to get close enough to hear what was said, but it seemed like they were chewing him out. And the medics took the other boy to the hospital and left Midoriya to go home, which didn’t sit quite right with me, especially because…” The man trailed off. “Anyway, when I figured out which way he went, I caught up with him, just in case. A good thing I did, too. He collapsed not five minutes later.”

“Well, I appreciate that,” Keigo said, a little less venom in his voice. With a sigh, he tapped on a name in his phone. “If you want a drink, help yourself to something in the fridge. I don’t know how far you carried him, but I’m sure his mother would give you that and more as a thank you.”

“Well, I don’t want to impose, but I’ll take a glass of water if you don’t mind.”

“Go ahead.” Keigo nodded at the kitchen as he put the phone to his ear. The recipient of his call practically growled at him.

“What do you want, Hawks? This better be important. You should know I’m on patrol.”

“Look, I’m sorry to bother you, Eraser, but did you see the news earlier?”

“Again. On patrol.” The sound in his ear got staticky, like there was a lot of wind. When it died down, Keigo continued.

“A villain attacked a student. I think it’s the explodey one from Zuku’s school. And apparently, he attacked Izuku first.”

“What?” The reply sounded deadly.

“Long story short, Izuku had two encounters with him, and All Might brought him home. He’s in pretty rough shape, and I can’t get him to wake up, but his pulse is strong.”

“So take him to the hospital!”

“You know why I can’t do that,” Keigo hissed asYagi came back into the room. The man looked at Izuku with concern, then sent a questioning look at Keigo. “Look, do you or do you not have a medical professional’s number? One that can keep their mouth shut.”

A sigh rattled over the speaker, and Yagi frowned at the half of the conversation he could hear. Keigo ran a hand over his face. He didn’t know how the kid kept his Quirk a secret.

“Hang on.” There was some more rattling, more wind, and then Eraserhead continued. “Recovery Girl can be there in twenty minutes. She can handle whatever you throw at her.”

“Where is she?”

“What does that–” A grunt and some shouts rang out, only to silence a moment later. “Okay, I have a minute while I wait for the police to take these guys. Why do you need to know where she is? She’ll be there soon, and if twenty minutes is too long, then take him to the blasted hospital!”

“Look, Eraser, he’s not in great shape, but he’s not actively dying. Unless he starts actively dying, I will not be taking him to the hospital. But I would like to make sure he’s all right as soon as possible!”

“Eraser?” Yagi muttered. Keigo ignored him. He had bigger problems.

“As soon as possible’ will be in twenty minutes. I know you’re worried, but if he can’t be fine for twenty - closer to fifteen now - minutes, then Recovery Girl won’t be able to help him anyway.”

“What am I supposed to do for fifteen minutes?” Keigo complained.

“Not my problem.” And then Eraserhead hung up.

“How dare he,” Keigo muttered, but he had to admit that he was mostly looking for a distraction. Keeping his fingers on Izuku’s pulse, he turned to Yagi. “All right. I have some questions.”

“Very well. I have some questions for you as well, starting with why you’re here.”

Keigo gave him a shortened version, leaving out Izuku’s Quirk. “Now tell me about these medics that let him go home.”

A short time and many questions later, Recovery Girl knocked on the door. Keigo was only mildly surprised to find that she knew Yagi. He explained the situation to the elderly woman. After a few minutes of checking Izuku over, she sat next to the boy with a hum.

“So? Is he okay?”

“His throat is in rough shape, I assume from the villain. I doubt he has a concussion, so being asleep should be fine. The redness on his neck is a minor concern, and it feels like there’s something underneath the skin. He may have one or two cracked ribs. Otherwise, it seems like a simple but severe case of Quirk exhaustion.”

“But he’s Quirkless,” said Yagi, his brows furrowed in confusion. “He told me so.”

“The symptoms are all there,” replied Recovery Girl. “Perhaps it was an extremely late manifestation due to Quirk activation requirements being met.”

“Perhaps…” Yagi muttered. Keigo pursed his lips.

The lights flickered. A little at first, barely noticeable. Then more, and more. It got to the point that Yagi asked if the electricity bill had been paid. Keigo had a sinking feeling that it was the ghosts, and they were trying to tell him something. Was it a warning that something was coming? He looked at Izuku, sleeping peacefully on the couch, and the flickering stopped. Okay. A sneaking suspicion told him that they wanted him to tell the truth. But it wasn’t his secret to tell…He looked away, and the musicless rave continued.

“This is highly concerning,” said Yagi, staring at the main light.

“Yes,” Recovery Girl agreed. “Perhaps we should all vacate the building.”

“No, no.” Keigo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, look, quit it with the lights already! I’m pretty sure I know what you want, and the answer is no.”

“Who are you talking to?”

“None of your business, scarecrow.”

Yagi and Recovery Girl exchanged a glance, and then all the lights went out, leaving the living room in near darkness. The sky outside was twilight, so they could still see. Keigo scowled and shivered when not one, but five cold spots washed through him.

“Okay, I get it. But I really shouldn’t–” Another wave of coldness. “Whichever one of you did that, I’m not talking to you any more. Go away. But as for the rest of you: fine. I’ll tell them. But if Inko or Izuku gets mad, you’re taking the blame. Now stop glaring at me.”

The lights turned back on, and the two adults not in the know had their eyes trained on Keigo. The hero sighed. He was already regretting this. He hoped Izuku wouldn’t be too mad when he woke up. Actually, forget that. Izuku might forgive him as soon as he apologized, but Inko on the other hand…Keigo wasn’t sure he wanted to know what she would do.

“Izuku isn’t Quirkless, okay? He has a Quirk, and he’s been employed by the HPSC since he was four years old. He’s a Commission kid, like I was.”

“Then he lied…” Yagi sat back heavily in his chair. “He asked me if someone Quirkless or someone with a Quirk ill-suited to heroics could be a hero.”

“What did you tell him?” Keigo asked, his expression stony.

“I told him no. But he was lying…”

“Screw that!” The other adults jumped at Keigo’s outburst. “It doesn’t matter if he was lying! You told a kid that he couldn’t be a hero because he didn’t have a Quirk?”

“Now, Hawks, I did tell him that there are different kinds of heroes,” Yagi placated, “I told him he could be an officer, or a firefighter. It’s just that in my experience, no one without a Quirk can be what we consider a traditional hero.”

“Okay, fine. That’s not as bad as I thought. But you still crushed his dream!”

“After everything, I was going to–” Yagi cut himself off with a guilty look. “Nevermind.”

“Going to…what, Yagi?” Keigo leveled a glare at the other hero that rivaled Eraserhead’s. “What were you going to do?”

“You were considering him as a successor, weren’t you?” Recovery Girl leaned toward Yagi, and the lights flickered once.

“That means yes,” Keigo said. 

“The…lights mean yes?” The confusion was back on the others’ faces. Keigo nodded.

“That’s…it’s…Izuku’s Quirk…” The man sighed. “I don’t know if I should tell you any more than what I’ve already said.”

The lights flickered like crazy, and Keigo waved his arms around. 

“All right, all right!” The lights stopped. If he could punch a ghost, he would. “Izuku’s Quirk is called Ghost Talk. He can talk to ghosts, and command them to do things within reason. There’s a limit to what they can do. From what he’s said, there aren’t as many ghosts around as you might think. Apparently, they can pass on, but some of them linger for a while. If he isn’t too upset later, maybe you can ask him for more details. His mom is going to kill me, though. No one is supposed to know about this.”

Yagi gave him a sympathetic look that Keigo didn’t particularly want.

“If it makes you feel any better, you’re talking to two people who have kept my situation a secret for a very long time.”

The lights flickered once, then twice. The winged hero narrowed his eyes.

“That means no,” he said.

“Well, I’ve kept the secret just fine,” said Recovery Girl with a pointed look at All Might. Then in a warning tone she asked, “What did you do?”

“About that…” Yagi rubbed his neck. “Young Midoriya…knows. I ran out of energy and ended up deflating in front of him.”

“Wow, nice going, Yagi.” Keigo rolled his eyes.

“He knows about my Quirk as well,” the man added quietly. That bit seemed to only be directed at Recovery Girl.

“What about your Quirk?” Keigo looked from one to the other. They exchanged another glance, and after asking if he could keep a secret, they explained. With every word, Keigo’s horror grew.

“You want to give a child an extremely powerful Quirk that needs to be kept secret?”

“I did,” said Yagi, “but then I found out he lied to me…”

“So what? He only told you the story he’s been conditioned to tell everyone. It’s ‘essential to his cover’ or some other bull crap that the Commission’s been feeding him since day one. Did you know he gets bullied because of it? His own classmates torment him. Izuku won’t tell me any specifics, but I’ve seen a spider lily fall out of his bag, and I know he has scars from his own classmates. He pretends it doesn’t bother him, but you can tell.”

“Wha’s goin’ on?” Izuku stirred, opening his tired eyes.

“Hey, little Zuku.” Keigo knelt next to the closest thing he had to a little brother. “I didn’t mean to wake you, but I’m glad you woke up.”

“Mm. My head hurts.”

“It’s just Quirk exhaustion. All you need is some rest.”

“All Might’s here? And who’s she?”

“That’s Recovery Girl. And…I had to tell them about your Quirk. The ghosts insisted.”

“Mhm. They’re tellin’ me, too.” Izuku seemed to stare off into space. “Don’ worry, Nana, ‘s okay. All Migh’ told me ‘bout his Quirk, so ‘s fair. I didn’t really want t’ lie.”

“Nana?” Yagi whispered, his face turning pale. “Shimura?”

The lights flickered once.

Izuku groaned, and shifted positions.

“She says she misses you, ‘n’ she’s proud, ‘n’ she hasn’t left. An’ that you’ve been an idiot with everything that you’ve done to an’ around me. Tha’s not nice, Nana. He wan’s to gimme his Quirk…” Izuku lost consciousness again. Keigo ran a hand through the boy’s green curls.

“It’s shocking, the first time. Isn’t it?” Keigo idly made one of his feathers dance through the air. Yagi didn’t say anything. “The first time he said something to me, I was about eleven, maybe twelve. He was only five, I think. I had just completed my first solo mission, which screwed me up enough to get me sent to Agent Midoriya. She was in charge of fixing people, making them feel better long enough to get a new mission. Still is. The first time Izuku met me, he came up to me, and gave me a big hug. Then he told me that a little boy I failed to save wanted to say thank you.”

“That…” Yagi tried to say something, but words failed. Instead, he hung his head and said, “Shimura Nana was my mentor. She died shortly after I gained One for All. Knowing she’s still with me…it’s a lot. I can only imagine what that was like for a twelve year old.”

“Well, you get used to it. That little boy passed on a long time ago, and now I have a Peeping Tom from America haunting me.” The lights went out. “Don’t you glare at me. You’re the one that followed me into the bathroom.” The lights flickered twice, then turned back on. “Even if it was an accident, you still did it. Her name is Liza, apparently. I saved her brother, so now she’s following me around.” Keigo addressed the emptiness in the room again. “By the way, how many of you are there?”

The lamp in the corner flickered off and on six times.

“Okay, roll call is a bit hard with yeses and nos, but that’s more than I was expecting.”

Just then, a key rattled in the door, and Midoriya Inko walked in.
“Sorry I’m so late, boys, I had a really hard case–” The woman stopped, staring at her two unexpected guests before her eyes landed on her son. “Izuku!”

“Before you freak out,” Keigo held up his arms defensively, “He’s all right, just recovering from Quirk exhaustion.”

“ What is all over him?”

“That would be sludge, Midoriya-san,” said Yagi. “And I’m–”

“All Might, yes, I know. Don’t you look at me like that. The Commission was concerned about you four or five years ago and had me look over your file. What are you doing in my apartment?”

“Izuku got attacked, and Yagi brought him home,” Keigo said quickly. Then he added the rest of the context for the unfortunate situation they were in. 

“The ghosts insisted you tell them?” Inko asked skeptically.

“If I didn’t tell, they probably would have lit an electrical fire.”

“Very well. I suppose I can’t blame you entirely.”

Suddenly, all the lights except the lamp next to Yagi turned off. The man warily eyed the lamp, while addressing Inko.

“I suppose that’s the…ghosts…telling me to share my secret with you as well.”

The lamp blinked once, and so Yagi told yet another person his secret.

“You offered my son an extremely powerful Quirk without asking me? With the amount of power you have, your Quirk could blow my son apart from the inside out!”

“Well, I was going to train him first, so that he wouldn’t blast his limbs off.”

“That isn’t reassuring! And he’s already in training! With Eraserhead!”

“Really?” the man blinked.

“Yes! And did you really ask him while he was suffering from Quirk exhaustion? Do you have any idea how stupid –” Inko’s lecture continued for a solid ten minutes. Despite her small stature, the woman could be quite intimidating when she wanted to be. Keigo would have felt bad for the other hero, if he wasn’t so glad that Inko’s ire wasn’t directed at him. He settled on the floor next to Izuku. The boy didn’t seem like he would wake any time soon, but it made Keigo feel better to be near, just in case.

Chapter Text

It was one thing to pass out in the presence of your favorite hero, and quite another to wake up with multiple heroes in his house. Keigo was expected. Aizawa, Yagi, and Recovery Girl were not. There was also an animal in a suit. Izuku fought off the ambient emotions around him. They were strong today, despite the subdued atmosphere. Thankfully, there didn’t seem to be many ghosts nearby. Izuku didn’t know if he could handle any more emotions at the moment. He rubbed his eyes.
“Ah, it appears our young friend is awake,” said the animal. Izuku squinted at the stoat. Why did he look so familiar…? Then the dots connected. Nezu.
“Oh, Izuku!” Mom threw her arms around him, tears streaming down her face. “Thank goodness!”
“What’s going on?” He asked groggily. “The last thing I remember is…no, never mind. That had to be a dream.”
“Wasn’t a dream, Zuku,” said Keigo. Izuku took the water the man offered. “The Number One Idiot over there actually offered you his powers.”
Izuku choked on his water, then collapsed onto the couch when everyone’s concern spiked. He couldn’t understand it. Being aware of everyone’s emotions was so hard, but why wasn’t it hard at school? He hadn’t been having trouble there. And what about the ghosts? They had touched the slime villain, without Izuku ever having to do anything. But they couldn’t make contact when they tried batting Kaachan upside the head. Or when the other kids were kicking him. Maybe it had to do with the severity of the situation…The adults in the room stilled, all their eyes on the boy. Why, exactly, were all their eyes on him?
“You do realize you’re talking out loud, Zuku.”
Oh. That would do it. An awkward chuckle came from Yagi.
“You, uh, seem to live quite a life, young man.”
“Understatement of the century,” Keigo laughed.
Aizawa glared at them all, then leveled a look at the boy. Izuku cocked his head to the side. There was something in the pro’s gaze. Mom had the same look.
“Izuku,” Mom said, “if you want to…you can accept All Might’s power. But there will be conditions.”
“Ooh, what conditions?” Oboro asked. He had popped his head through the ceiling at some point. Izuku wasn’t quite sure when.
“If you accept, young man, you would have to endure rigorous training, overseen by Aizawa for some reason,” Yagi muttered under his breath. The other man gave him an unimpressed look.
“You’re not a teacher, Yagi. I have experience in that area, and, besides that, I was training him first. He is my student, that you might teach as well.”
“Well, I understand the need for supervision, but you’re going to be my coworker. Shouldn’t Nezu or perhaps Gran Torino be supervising? And on that note, I’m a grown man. I’m sure I can figure out how to teach one kid.”
“Gentlemen,” Nezu interrupted. “I believe we have already had this conversation. Aizawa will be supervising until the school year starts.”
“Right. Sorry.” Yagi at least had the decency to look sheepish. “The next condition will be that you attend UA.”
“Um, not to put a wrench in things, but…I’m diagnosed as Quirkless. I’ve heard about the entrance exam, and I doubt I could pass without one. And if I suddenly develop a Quirk, that ruins my cover. The Commission will be, well, pissed.”
“To be honest, Zuku,” said Keigo, “the Commission doesn’t really need you. They want your potential, and they like having all of the control.”
“Well, yeah, but they’re still the Hero Commission…”
“How many times have they asked you to spy on heroes?” The question wasn’t meant as a rhetorical one, but that’s how it played out. Izuku sighed.
“Okay, so I suddenly develop a Quirk or two. What would I even call it?”
“We should burn that bridge when we get to it,” Oboro chimed in.
“I will not be burning any bridges, thank you Oboro.”
“That is never not going to sound insane,” Aizawa sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“...yes, well…” Yagi continued his explanation, “If you accept, and pass the entrance exam, then you will be put in Eraserhead’s homeroom. You will be ceasing all activities for the Hero Commission as well, at least until you are graduated. After that, you may do as you wish.”
“Wait, but that means I won’t get to work with Keigo any more!”
“Ah, don’t sweat it, Zuku.” Keigo ruffled the boy’s hair. “We’ll work together plenty after your graduation. I’m going to work on separating myself from them anyway. Honestly, the only reason I’m staying right now is to keep an eye on you. Besides, I’m living here. It’s not like you’re never going to see me again.”
“Hm, I suppose that wouldn’t be too bad.” Izuku devolved into another mutter fest. At the end of it, he gave one big nod, and said, “All right. I’ll do it.”
There were mixed reactions, and all of them were strong. Izuku glared at his…what should he even call this group? Mom, Keigo, ghost, and assorted teachers? Whatever they were to him, he glared.
“Could you all stop feeling so loudly? I’m getting a headache.”
There were chuckles all around, followed closely by promises to leave him alone. Once all but Mom were gone, Izuku smiled to himself. The life set before him felt like it was going to be great. His smile disappeared. The last time he thought that had been right before starting Aizawa’s training regimen. This was going to suck, wasn’t it?

Chapter Text

It did suck, at first. The red spot on his neck got worse before it got better, but at least it went away eventually. Cleaning the beach was kind of cool. And as it turned out, Yagi’s training program actually got Aizawa’s stamp of approval, after a few very minor changes to the diet. Izuku was glad for that, as the diet had not originally included any cheat days or good snacks (or, rather, sugary snacks), which the boy didn’t particularly want to give up. Plus, the time passed so quickly. Before he realized it, there were only a few days until the entrance exam and the beach was nearly clear.

One thing struck Izuku as odd during that time. All Might’s ghosts seemed to avoid him. After the first encounter, they just…well, they didn’t disappear, but they hovered a ways away. They didn’t come near. Sometimes they chatted with each other, but mostly they just stood. Watching. It unnerved him a bit. On the bright side, Oboro kept things lively. He constantly cheered Izuku on, or attempted to play pranks on him. Even better, Oboro sometimes tried playing pranks on Aizawa. Today, Izuku had charged his hands so the ghost could attempt to carry a bucket of sea water over. If asked, Izuku would claim he knew nothing. However, it was a bit hard to ignore the shaking bucket being carried over the sand. 

“Shirakumo, I can hear the water from here. Don’t.” Aizawa hadn’t even looked in the ghost’s direction. Izuku snickered. “And don’t think you’re off the hook, problem child. He wouldn’t be able to carry a bucket without you.”

The bucket fell, and the boy pouted. Funnily enough, so did All Might.

“Couldn’t you let them have their fun just once?” The man asked. Izuku perked up at the question. Aizawa smirked, and the boy’s expression returned to a pout.

“No.” 

“You’re no fun, Eraserhead. I would never guess that you taught children.”

“If you had ever taught teenagers before, you’d know that I am outwardly what all the other teachers are inwardly.”

“…uh-huh.” Yagi shook his head and wandered off, pausing briefly to whisper to Izuku, “Tell your ghost friend to bring me the bucket.”

Izuku wasn’t sure it was a good idea, but looked to Oboro, who grinned and saluted. The boy shrugged. Three microwaves, a television, and a tub later, Aizawa motioned for Izuku to take a break. He collapsed onto clean sand, water bottle in hand. The only warning he had for what came next was a slight creaking from behind him. He looked up to see Yagi distracting Aizawa with conversation while Oboro toted his bucket over the last pile of trash. A splash, followed by the most exasperated sigh Izuku had ever heard, had Yagi and Izuku in tears. If his abs weren’t already hurting, the laughter would have made them hurt. Aizawa, for his part, merely shook his head.

“You two are like toddlers, and I’m done babysitting for today. Make sure he eats before you take him home, Yagi.”

Oboro followed Aizawa, throwing a wave over his shoulder. The remaining two sat in companionable silence while the sun set. After a while, though, Izuku could tell Yagi wanted to ask something. Probably about the ghosts. 

“She hasn’t said anything else. The ghosts following you keep their distance.”

“I wasn’t going to pry.” Guilt came off the man in waves. Either he was lying, or he had been considering the idea. 

“You can pry all you want,” Izuku offered. “You let me in on your secret Quirk, and now I’m set to inherit it.”

“Still,” said Yagi, “I don’t want you to feel like you have to tell me everything. As much as I might want to know.”

Izuku shrugged and dropped the subject. Aside from the new heightened awareness of people’s emotions, he knew his Quirk fairly well, and it wasn’t really going to be a secret any more. It felt a little weird talking about it still, but it wasn’t hard. Eventually, Yagi did ask more questions, after they had eaten dinner. It was nice. Izuku hoped he could have more times like this once school started.

————

Midoriya Izuku was going to kill Aizawa Shouta. A heads up about the zero-pointer would have been appreciated. Heck, even a vague ‘beware of giants’ or something would have sufficed. But no. The man had left him completely in the dark. Izuku had barely been able to fight a few one-pointers, and the zero-pointer was headed right for him. Several kids were already pinned by rubble or injured by it. To make matters worse, it was determined that Izuku needed a little more muscle mass before receiving One for All, which meant he was fighting without a super powered Quirk. On the bright side, there were several ghosts around him. 

All Might’s ghosts had finally approached him, even if it was just to offer their help in the exam. Nana looked like she wanted to say more, but the white-haired ghost had stopped her. Hana and Agent Namura were there, as well as Liza and a few others. Some were students’ family members, the rest were ghostly informants from Izuku’s time with the Commission. He was quite touched that they all wanted to help. 

Several calls for help came from around the compound. Izuku charged as many hands as he could, and the ghosts worked to free as many as they could. After several rounds of this, Izuku fell to his knees, sweat running down his face.

“Maybe Aizawa was right about me not being ready for One for All,” he muttered to himself, “I can’t even handle Ghost Talk any more.”

“Aaaaaaah!” A shrill scream pierced the air. There, in the path of the zero-pointer and trapped by rubble, was a girl Izuku recognized from when he had tripped on the steps of UA. Izuku ran forward, but there was no way he would make it in time, and he didn’t even have enough strength left to do anything if he did. There were only two ghosts with him at the moment, Nana and Agent Namura. They ran beside him.

The zero-pointer brought one big hand down. The ground shuddered, and Izuku fell. No. No, no, no. That thing was going to crush that nice girl. Izuku reached a hand toward her, something tugging in his chest.

“ Save her .” His voice echoed in his own head, and suddenly Nana and Namura were beside the girl. Nana lifted the cement, and Namura pulled her out of the way. The last thing Izuku saw before collapsing in a heap was the girl and both ghosts sprinting toward him.

Chapter Text

The first day of school went just fine. There was a Quirk apprehension test, which Izuku did all right on. And no one got expelled, so that was a plus. The second day brought unexpected butterflies to his stomach for no reason at all. So much so that Izuku spilled cereal all down the front of his chest, which caused him to nearly be late. He breathed a sigh of relief as he sat at attention in his seat. If the last ten months had taught him anything, it was that Aizawa liked to start on time. The emotions swirling through the classroom today were a bit stronger than the day before. The odd sensation had grown over the summer, Izuku thought. It hadn’t been too noticeable when he was only training with Aizawa and Yagi. It hadn’t even been noticeable at the entrance exam, but now, it was a lot. His head started to hurt.
Just as Aizawa climbed out of his yellow sleeping bag, Oboro plopped himself onto the desk in front of Izuku. The boy scowled at the ghost, but he just grinned. Aizawa was saying something, and writing on the board. Izuku couldn’t even see his notebook. Oboro’s butt was in the way. He glared harder.
“Dang, Midoriya’s super intense,” someone whispered. Great. So much for starting fresh. First it’s ‘Midoriya is intense’ then ‘Midoriya is a freak’ followed by ‘let’s play kick Deku!’
“Do you have something to share with the class, Sero?”
“Uh…n-no, sir.”
“Good.” There was a pause, and Izuku did his best to direct his gaze at his teacher. A sigh. “Midoriya, who’s blocking your view?”
A ripple of confusion spread through the class. As far as they were aware, no one was there.
“I’ll give you three guesses,” Izuku said, still glaring. Oboro smirked.
“Tell him it’s Hello Kitty.”
“Shirakumo Oboro, either stop messing with my student, or I will find a way to reach into the afterlife and make your existence a living nightmare.”
“Oh, so threatening,” Oboro scoffed, although he did as he was told.
“Um…sir?” Sero frowned. “There’s…no one there…”
Izuku could feel Kaachan’s narrowed eyes, but he kept his gaze on Aizawa. The man raised a brow, and somehow Izuku knew exactly what he wanted. He motioned for Oboro’s hands. There was a surge of energy in Izuku’s chest. It seemed stronger than usual, but he didn’t have time to dwell on that. After he charged the ghost, instead of going to the board to write something like Izuku had expected him to, he started toward Kaachan.
“Wait, what are you—“ Izuku didn’t get to finish his question before Kaachan was in Oboro’s arms. The other boy began swearing profusely as he thrashed. Oboro could only hold him for a moment, but that moment was long enough. The class gaped at where Kaachan had fallen to the floor.
“What the crap was that, Deku?!”
Izuku cringed.
“Um, Oboro?”
“So, what, you see ghosts or somethin’? That’s your Quirk? Why didn’t you tell me before now?” Kaachan scowled.
“Take a seat, Bakugo,” said Aizawa. “Midoriya, I expected a message on the board, not an impromptu hovering demonstration.”
“I didn’t tell him to do that!”
“Tell Sho that I do what I want.”
Gasps came from around him, and Aizawa actually stumbled backward until his back hit the chalkboard. Izuku’s brows furrowed. Confusion swirled through the air, shock laced throughout. It was kind of strong, almost like the first time he had felt everyone’s feelings. It made him dizzy. There was something wrong…something caused the feelings, but he couldn’t focus enough to make sense of it.
“Was that…?” Aizawa asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I…I heard him.”
“Huh?” Izuku’s vision swam. “Hey, Zawa-san, I think I’m gonna throw up.”
“Crap.” The switch from shock back to business nearly made Izuku fall over. There was a capture scarf wrapped garbage can in front of him before he knew it. New emotions swam through his head. His neck was itchy again, like it had been a few months ago. He fought off a wave of nausea. Breathing through his mouth seemed to help, until he realized Aizawa was trying to get his attention.
“Come on, kid, focus on me.”
“How did he even get through the entranth exam?”
“Mineta,” Aizawa said sharply. He flashed his Quirk.
“S-sorry,” Izuku gasped. He was amazed with himself for not puking. It was then he noticed he had a death grip on his teacher’s wrists. No wonder the nausea was slowly leaving. His attention had narrowed to just Aizawa’s emotions. He apologized again. “Sorry. I-it was s-so…t-too m-much.”
Izuku scratched at the back of his neck with one hand. It felt like there was something under his skin. He scratched harder when he noticed the sensation made the nausea fade.
“What’s going on?” A few classmates started voicing their concerns.
“S-sorry. My Quirk makes me sick sometimes. I can feel everyone’s emotions at once, and it gets to be too much.”
“So the nausea doesn’t have anything to do with how much you just charged me, then?” Oboro furrowed his brows, hands coming to a rest on his hips. From the feelings in the room, it seemed like everyone could still hear him. Aizawa, to his credit, ignored the ghost.
“It…got worse after I did that,” Izuku cringed. He hadn’t let go of Aizawa’s wrist yet.
“We’ll work on that,” Aizawa said. His expression matched Oboro’s. Izuku jerked when the man grabbed his other hand.The boy frowned at the blood running down his fingers. Ambient concern rose, but he forced himself to focus on Aizawa.
“What are you doing?”
“Sorry! My neck is just so…itchy.”
Aizawa narrowed his eyes, putting Izuku’s head down a little so he could see. The man plucked something from the boy’s neck. Izuku winced. Whatever it was had been partially under the skin still. His teacher didn’t even sigh before pulling Izuku out of his chair.
“We’re going to Recovery Girl, and then - if this is what I think it is - Nezu.”
“Ooh, Midoriya’th in trouble,” Mineta sing-songed. Before Aizawa did anything about that, a shoe hit the other boy in the face.
“Why don’t you shut your stupid mouth!” Bakugo yelled. Their teacher flashed his Quirk, but he didn’t get after Bakugo like Izuku thought he would.
“Bakugo, don’t throw shoes at your classmates. You’re not five.” The way he spoke sounded entirely devoid of emotion, but Izuku could feel the mirth hiding beneath the surface.
“Shouldn’t be get thome thort of detention? My face hurts…”
Either the teacher didn’t hear, or he ignored the boy. Aizawa escorted Izuku out of the room, after shooting a text for someone to cover his class. Izuku fought to keep from scratching again.

Chapter Text

A Quirk suppressing chip. The Commission had put a Quirk suppressing device into a child. Shouta seethed at the fact.

“It seems that it initially broke open in the explosion the two of you experienced,” Recovery Girl was saying. “I would hazard a guess that the first rash a few months ago was brought on by whatever powered the thing. It has since dissolved, but the pieces have been slowly corroding until they broke apart. It looks like it used to be fused to the bones in your neck. I’ve taken the remaining ones out, so it shouldn’t hurt you any more. I would advise close supervision of your Quirk for the near future. We won’t know what you’re capable of, especially since you’ve had a Quirk suppressor on you for so long.”

“Excuse me for a minute. I need to make a call.” Shouta left the boy with the old heroine, and a few seconds later a sweet, motherly voice rang through his phone.

“Hello, Shouta-kun, it’s unusual to hear from you during the day. Is Izuku all right?”

“Did you know he had a Quirk suppressing chip?” Shouta fought to keep the anger out of his voice. Inko made a strangled noise.

“He what?!”

“A Quirk suppressing chip. In his neck. He scratched part of it out in class.”

“...Shouta-kun, I’m going to have to let you go. I have some calls to make.” The line clicked dead, and Shouta suddenly had the feeling he had unleashed an unknowable amount of wrath on the HPSC. Served them right. Upon returning to the infirmary, Shouta found his student deep in conversation with Nezu. He hadn’t seen the stoat tip-tap past him, but here he was. 

“Yes, Midoriya-kun, I am indeed sure that everything will be fine. Your concerns are valid, but just leave it to us.”

“But, what if—“

“Whatever it is, problem child, Nezu can take care of it.”

“A-are you sure?” Izuku looked from teacher to principal and back. “It’s just that, well, the Commission is already going to be angry that I’ve blown my ‘Quirkless’ cover. If they know that the suppressor is gone…”

“Then they’ll have to acknowledge that they put an illegal device inside a child. If they try anything, we can bring the full might of the law down on them.”

Nezu nodded. 

“…okay. If you’re sure.”

“We’re sure.” Shouta guided the boy to the door with a hand on his shoulder. “We had better get back to class. You’ve got heroics today. Nezu, I assume my other classes will be covered?”

“In the interest of monitoring young Midoriya’s Quirk usage, yes. I will take care of it.” Nezu smiled at the student. “I hope you enjoy your heroics class. You’ll have to let me know how your Quirk behaves.”

And with that, Izuku followed Shouta to the gym. Rage still boiled in Shouta’s gut, but the boy either didn’t notice or could tell it wasn’t directed at him. After changing quickly, Izuku emerged just in time to hear All Might describing how the activity would go. Shouta lurked behind the other pro hero, taking note of all the students’ expressions. Ururaka spotted Izuku just as All Might finished his spiel. She practically shouted, “Deku! Are you feeling better?”

Most of the class echoed her sentiments. And where had the name ‘Deku’ come from? It didn’t seem like a good one, but Ururaka didn’t strike him as the kind of kid to bully someone. Bakugo threw a glance at Izuku, but turned away, and suddenly Shouta’s brain made the connection. All through the days of training over the last few months, Izuku had mentioned his school days, and someone named Kaachan with an explosion Quirk. Bakugo Katsuki equaled Kaachan. Now, Bakugo’s actions in the last couple days made more sense. He had been overly aggressive towards Izuku yesterday, and seemingly avoidant of him today. But then what about when the boy defended Izuku from Mineta? The explosive teen looked almost guilty at the moment, while Izuku brushed off his friends’ concerns. Shouta silently moved next to Bakugo as the first teams went.

“Bakugo,” he murmured, “a word.”

The boy followed him into the hallway, shifting uncomfortably the entire way.

“What do you want, teach?”

Although the boy’s words were rough, Shouta didn’t call him out on it. Bakugo was likely nervous more than anything.

“You knew Midoriya before UA, didn’t you?” Bakugo remained silent. “Now, I’m not pointing fingers. Whatever you or he did is between the two of you, unless you bring me in on it. That being said, I’ve noticed some things.”

“I used to bully him, okay?!” Bakugo snapped. Shouta almost flinched back at the outburst. “You’re going to ask about the nickname, right? Well, I gave it to him! And I beat him up all the time! But it would have been worse if I didn’t.”

“Elaborate.” Shouta watched the boy’s hands clench and unclench, like he was trying not to explode. 

“I…He didn’t have a Quirk, not according to anyone. But he does! You’ve seen it. And I knew there was something. Even though I couldn’t prove it, I knew something was up with that-“ Bakugo cut himself off.

“That what, Bakugo?” Shouta couldn’t quite keep the iciness out of his voice.

“Look, I don’t want to - I just…I was the worst one! But the worse I was, the better everyone else treated him. We used to be friends.” Bakugo’s face crumpled, somewhere between angry and devastated. “That’s why they’re calling him Deku. I called him that on the day of the entrance exam, and some of those extras overheard it. I’m pretty sure Floaty thought it was his name.”

“Hm.” Shouta appraised the boy. Bakugo hung his head, looked anywhere but at Shouta, his hands still in fists, and a grimace showed his clenched teeth. Pushing more right now might put the boy over the edge. “Thanks for the honesty.”

“What?” Bakugo looked up. “I just confessed to being an a**hole and you just-“

The boy gestured vaguely in the air. 

“Oh, you’ll be receiving consequences for those actions, although it will be unofficial.” The anger re-entered the boy’s stance. “I’m thinking daily after school meetings with Hound Dog for as long as he sees fit. But unless Izuku wants to press charges - which I doubt - I won’t do anything. I wasn’t your teacher then, so what’s in the past is in the past. But if I see you step one toe out of line, I will not hesitate to expel you. Understood?”

“Yeah. Understood.” The fight seemed to have left him. Obvious guilt still remained, but Bakugo seemed less…agitated. Shouta went to leave, but Bakugo stopped him. “You just called him ‘Izuku.’”

Shouta could have punched himself. That was a stupid, stupid slip-up. He had been so good about not exposing his connection to Izuku. Bakugo shook his head, as if he knew exactly what Shouta was thinking.

“You know the nerd, too. From before UA. I don’t know how or why, and I won’t ask for the same reason I knew not to ask about his life when we were kids. But don’t pretend like the rest of us can’t see it. I figured it out this morning. The extras will figure it out eventually.”

“What gave it away?” Shouta asked using the same tone as Bakugo.

“You knew the name of the ghost,” said Bakugo as he left. This time Shouta facepalmed so hard that the resounding smack echoed. Luckily, the only possible witness had already disappeared through a door.

Chapter Text

Butterflies danced through Izuku’s stomach. These battle simulations were nothing to be laughed at, especially since he was paired against Kaachan of all people. However, as the two teams made their way to the start, Kaachan seemed oddly subdued. He still snapped at everyone, and was just generally himself, but something was off. There was no real fire behind his words. And was that…guilt? No, it couldn’t be. Why would he feel guilty? Aside from that one day…Izuku couldn’t think of anything Kaachan might have felt guilty about. Still, something must have happened. 

Regardless, it was Izuku and Ururaka against Iida and Bakugo. Technically, Izuku also had Oboro and Namura on his side. The next hour or so flew by. Kaachan didn’t seek Izuku out like he had thought he would. Instead, Izuku ran into the other boy on the third floor as he made his way up to the fake bomb. They fought, but Bakugo was barely using the gauntlets strapped to his arms. Even if the boy had, Izuku charged the ghosts to hold him down. And then it was a waiting game. Izuku took a seat in front of Kaachan, who was struggling against the invisible restraints.

“You’re acting…weird,” said Izuku. He figured it would be better to face whatever the problem was head on. No sense in dancing around it.

“So? You know, I could blast my way out of this!”

“So why aren’t you?”

Kaachan stilled, finally looking at his childhood friend. Only a flicker of emotions crossed his face, but Izuku could feel them all. Guilt. Regret. Confusion. And just a little anger. 

“If I blasted my way out, I could bring down the building around us! Do you want to die?”

“Not really,” said Izuku, “but that’s never stopped you before.”

Kaachan cringed. If Izuku couldn’t feel the emotions coming off the boy in waves, he would have never noticed the tears gathering in his old friend’s eyes. It was hard to tell where Kaachan’s hurt ended and Izuku’s began. How was he supposed to puzzle out his own feelings when Kaachan’s were all over?

“Look, I…”

“You what? You only beat me up because everyone else would have done it worse? You only told me to take a swan dive off a roof because someone else would have actually pushed me? That doesn’t excuse you, Kaachan!”

“I know!” Kaachan yelled, and suddenly Izuku knew exactly where his emotions ended and Kaachan’s began. This wasn’t Izuku’s regret, this wasn’t his fear. It was all Kaachan’s. It had hurt hearing those words from his friend, but deep down, Izuku knew who he was, and he at least knew what he didn’t deserve. Apparently, Kaachan didn’t.  Every emotion coming off of Kaachan rang with desperation, dripped with sadness, oozed anger - not anger at the world or Izuku, but at himself. Izuku gaped. “I know, okay? I should never have - you’ve had a Quirk this whole time. I should have known. I wouldn’t have…”

“Wouldn’t have done all those things?” Izuku murmured the words. He hadn’t realized it, but he was actually upset about everything that happened in elementary and middle school. “What if I actually had been Quirkless, Kaachan? What then?”

Kaachan’s silence would have been answer enough, but the shame that permeated the air made it all the more obvious. The explosive teen sat up, no longer restrained by the ghosts.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

“Apology accepted.”

“What? Why?” Kaachan looked off put by Izuku’s nonchalance. Izuku shook his head, grateful that the ghosts had backed off enough for him to talk without distraction.

“I said ‘apology accepted,’ Kaachan. Not ‘It’s okay.’”

“Is…can I…can I fix this?” Kaachan asked, his voice hoarse. 

Izuku thought for a minute, glancing at Namura and Oboro. He thought of all the good times, and the bad. He weighed them carefully against each other. The thought of all the beatings he had taken throughout the years got smashed by what-ifs. What if Kaachan hadn’t bullied him? There was a week where Kaachan had stayed home from school sick, and Izuku had twice as many bruises by the end. It hadn’t been right - none of it had - but it might have been worse. They were just kids who didn’t know better at the time. It’s not like the teachers had helped anything. Izuku sighed, knowing that he shouldn’t feel as fond of his bully as he did. Kaachan did a lot of bad things, but he had been trying to make things better.

“There’s a long way to things being okay. There’s a long way to go before things are even decent…but…if you’re willing to put in the work, I’m willing to let you.”

“I don’t deserve that,” said Kaachan, “but thanks. I won’t let you down.”

“You better not,” Izuku smiled as they heard All Might proclaim that the heroes won over their ear pieces. Then he added, “By the way, you had better not hold back next time. I need to be able to hold my own if I want to be the greatest hero.”

“If you want to beat me to being the best, you can’t hold back again either.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t.”

————

Shouta gaped at the screens, as did Yagi. The other man was in his muscled form, but the expression he had would have looked more at home on his emaciated form. It seemed that Bakugo and Izuku had forgotten that their earpieces doubled as microphones. Yagi had frantically gestured Shouta over and shoved one in his hands. They had heard everything. It took everything in him not to march out to the grounds and pull them both to Hound Dog’s office by the scruffs of their necks. Both men did their best not to give too much away to the other students. Unfortunately, Shouta didn’t think they succeeded on that front.

“Is everything okay, Mr. Aizawa?” Kaminari asked. “Are they okay?”

“They’re fine.”

“But why do you look so upset?” Ashido asked, looking unsure. “Or, well, I mean, why does All Might look so upset?”

“Oh, I’m quite alright!” Yagi blustered. The man was as subtle as a hammer to the head. Shouta sighed, and then made up something on the spot.

“Look, there are going to be things you do wrong, and there are going to be things you do right. That is between us as your teachers and you as our students. I won’t be telling anyone else your scores, so stop asking about your classmates and start worrying about yourselves.”

That seemed to do the trick. Shouta turned back to the monitors. The four students were being evaluated by the medical robots on their way back. Shouta was going to set up appointments for both Bakugo and Izuku when they got back. Then he realized he was going to have to notify their parents. Inko wouldn’t be much of a problem. She would probably be happy, actually. She was aware of some or most of the things Izuku had gone through, so she would almost definitely sign off on therapy. Shouta wasn’t as sure about the Bakugos, and if either of his parents were as explosive as their son…he could hold his own, of course, but in this case he’d rather not. Dealing with parents was not something he had ever enjoyed.

Shouta turned his attention back to the rest of the battle simulations. There were a few injuries here and there, but nothing of particular note. Most of the class did admirably considering it was only their second day.

————

The suggestion of therapy had gone over remarkably well for both families. Bakugo Mitsuki had been nearly ecstatic at the idea, and her husband seemed happy with it. Apparently, Aldera Junior High had a therapy program that the Bakugo family had tried to take advantage of, but had given up on after the counselors kept sending the boy home with glowing reports. Shouta sat in the teacher’s lounge after school, the cushy sofa being the only place he wanted to be. He had just finished talking with Inko. Izuku’s first day of counseling would be tomorrow after school. 

A few other teachers filtered in, chatting amiably with each other. Midnight’s exaggerated gestures nearly took out Snipe, who seemed to be grading papers while he walked. Vlad stared at his computer screen like it had personally offended him. Thirteen stirred a cup of coffee at her own desk, and Yagi seemed to be napping in a chair next to her. Shouta rolled his eyes and started to plan next week’s lessons. 

“Shoooouutaaa!” Hizashi plopped down on the sofa next to him.

“Miiiiic,” Shouta replied in the deadest sounding voice he could summon.

“I have to tell you about one of the kids. I think he’s in your class! Green hair, freckles, kinda plain looking.”

“Midoriya Izuku.”

“Right, right! So, anyway, I think he’s a prodigy! His pronunciation could use work, of course, but he read everything I wrote on the board today!”

“Uh-huh. And did you ask where he learned all that?” Shouta asked without looking up from his lesson plans.

“Yeah! He kinda gave a vague answer, though. Something about divining it from the cosmos. Kid’s a riot!”

It was then that Shouta realized his friend didn’t know about Izuku’s Quirk. Oh, he was about to get an earful. He’d only told Hizashi about training a kid in passing, which wasn’t abnormal considering their careers. But he had neglected to mention just about everything else. 

“About that…” The other teachers stopped what they were doing. Yagi even woke up from his nap to witness what was happening. It wasn’t often that Eraserhead sounded guilty. Shouta grimaced as he explained. “The kid can see ghosts. It was probably a ghost that gave him the answers, unless the hero commission taught him, but I doubt that.”

“A…ghost?”

“Ooh, this sounds juicy,” Nemuri squealed. “Tell us more. Who’s the ghost?”

“I think a better question is what the Commission would want with a fifteen year old,” said Vlad.

“If the name Hawks means anything to you,” said Mic, “then you know what they would want.”

“Point taken.”

“That’s not all,” Shouta said, his grimace deepening. Mic narrowed his eyes. “The ghost was probably…uh…”

This was harder than he thought it would be. He, Hizashi, Nemuri, and Oboro had been best friends. It shouldn’t be this hard to break the news.

“Who, Shouta?”

“Oboro.”

Silence dropped over the room, a somber mood taking over. Everyone watched Mic for his reaction, except Yagi, whose head ping-ponged between the two lifelong friends.

“Who’s Oboro?” Thirteen asked.

“Our friend, who died fifteen years ago,” Hizashi answered, his voice deadly quiet. Shouta could usually read the man like an open book, but right now he couldn’t tell if Mic was upset, happy, or angry. Maybe all three. The quiet tone he used was concerning. Mic was loud in his hero work, and loud but soft in his personal life. Quiet was not good. “Are you telling me that Oboro was helping your student cheat?”

If Shouta had been drinking water, he would have choked.

“That’s what you’re upset about? Not that I didn’t tell you that our best friend has been around as a ghost for fifteen years? You’re more worried about Izuku cheating?”

“Yes, I’m more worried about Midoriya - hang on, you just called him by his first name. You never do that with your students.”

“He and I have been training Izuku for almost a year now,” Yagi pitched in, rather unhelpfully. Now Hizashi did look angry.

“Thanks, Yagi,” Shouta said through clenched teeth. “I might’ve gotten out of this unscathed.”

“Midoriya is the kid you’ve been training?! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Or me?” Nemuri joined in the faux-wailing. “We’re your best friends!”

“You don’t believe me, do you?” Shouta looked between all of his colleagues. “You can check his files. His Quirk is listed as Ghost Talk.”

“Well, yeah,” said Nemuri, “but you have to admit that what you’re saying sounds a little far fetched.”

“I heard him today. The kid’s Quirk is getting stronger, and I heard Oboro.”

“I’ve never heard them,” Yagi added, “but I have seen evidence. Young Midoriya knew my master’s name. I haven’t talked about her in years, and he knew it. And the Oboro ghost likes to try to play pranks on Aizawa, if that’s enough for evidence. He dropped a bucket of sea water on him once.”

“Because you distracted me,” Shouta scowled. Yagi grinned, clearly not apologetic. 

“That was indeed a wonderful prank. Completely harmless, yet still funny.”

“Was that when you came back to the apartment looking like a sad, wet cat?” Hizashi asked. 

“Yes,” Shouta growled. Then he added, “Speaking of the apartment, we’re almost out of food. Are you buying this week, or am I?”

“You are. And don’t try changing the subject.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Why don’t you arrange proof?” Hound Dog suggested from where he stirred a cup of ramen while it cooled.

“I’m not going to make the kid do that. If it happens, it happens. But I’m not going to make him do that.”

Just then, the door flew open, revealing a rather frazzled looking Izuku glaring at a space behind him. The boy leaned so far back that he really should have fallen over by now.

“Will you stop it? This is the teacher’s lounge! I’m not supposed to be here!” Izuku stumbled forward. “I don’t care if they were talking about me. I’m a pretty interesting person. They’re bound to talk. Wha- no? That’s not even…Oh, that’s even less my business. How dare you make me charge you so that you could push me in here. No, I couldn’t. You know how sick that makes me!”

“Izuku?” Yagi frowned. “Shouldn’t you be home by now?”

“Yes,” the boy snapped, although all of his attitude was directed at the air next to him. “Oh, don’t give me that, Oboro. Mom said she was going to be home late and Keigo’s gonna be so worried! Last time I was late was when I was attacked by a sludge villain!” Izuku paused for a moment, then continued in a mocking voice, “oh, whY dOn’T yOu juSt TeXt hIm? Because you put my phone in a vent and then dragged me here!”

“Kid,” Shouta sighed, “do you want a ride home?”

“Um…yes, please. If it’s not too much trouble. It’ll be much faster than the bus. And…if you could maybe text Keigo for me?”

“Let me get my keys.” Shouta texted the wing hero while he grabbed them.

“At least somebody likes me,” Izuku shot at the air next to him. Then he sighed. “Okay, fine. Miss Midnight?”

“Yes…?” Nemuri leaned in, and Izuku’s face turned bright red.

“Um…Oboro says to ask you if…um…do you still have…the…”

Shouta interrupted, “If you say ‘the little raven number’, I’m grounding Oboro for a month.”

“Pfft…” Izuku tried biting back his laughter, but failed horribly. “Actually, he was asking if she still had a ‘playboy bunny outfit.’ What is that, actually? And what was the little raven number?”

“Well, young man,” Nemuri purred, “it’s—“

“The next words out of your mouth better be ‘none of your business’,” Shouta said, guiding Izuku out of the room by his shoulder. A moment before they exited the room, the boy’s face somehow got redder.

“I-it’s wh-what?” He sputtered. Shouta glared in the direction Izuku was looking. 

“Oboro, you are grounded.”

“He says that’s not fair.”

“Don’t care. He’s grounded.” Laughter followed them out of the room. 

After getting in his car, Izuku fidgeted with his hands. Shouta reached over and tapped his knuckles when it looked like he was going to hurt himself.

“Sorry about that,” the boy said into the silence of the car.

“It’s alright. I’m not mad at you.”

“I know.”

“You know, but it’s still good to hear, isn’t it?”

“…yes.”

Shouta gave him a small smile and they rode the rest of the way in silence. Upon parking, Shouta turned the car off. Izuku looked at him curiously.

“Before you go, I wanted to ask about what happened today.”

“Oh, I just accidentally charged Oboro too much this morning. I didn’t mean to. And then before coming to the teacher’s lounge, he asked me to charge him so he could write a note on the board for you. I also may have charged him a little too much that time as well, and I didn’t want to command him to stop, because that always makes me sick.”

“That’s…good to know, but not what I was asking about.”

“Then what…?” Izuku frowned.

“You know, those earpieces had microphones.”

“…oh.”

“Your conversation w—“

“Wait!” Izuku turned around. “Um, Oboro, Namura? Could you…yeah. Thanks. Okay, you can go now.”

“Your conversation with Bakugo raised some red flags.”

“That’s an understatement,” muttered Izuku.

“Look, I just want you to know that you can talk to me if you need to. I knew your middle school wasn’t great, but I wasn’t aware of the severity. I’ve also spoken with your mother, and you’re going to have therapy sessions with Hound Dog.”

“Why?” 

Shouta frowned. What did he mean ‘why’? That amount of bullying alone would warrant some help. Not to mention all the training and stress in addition to that.

“I feel your confusion, Zawa-san. I just don’t see why I need therapy now. I’ve been fine without it. Well, without official therapy. There’s a reason my mom is called ‘mom’ by a lot of agents. But even if she wasn’t the go-to agent-fixer, I know what I’m worth, and I know that no matter what everyone said, I didn’t deserve it.”

“You know that, but it hurt to hear, didn’t it?” Shouta asked, mirroring his earlier question. Izuku stared at his lap for a moment, then nodded. “Even if all you do in therapy is talk about Quirks, or play a few board games, it’s bound to help a little. Hound Dog is a good listener, and he’ll listen to whatever you have to say.”

A promise of ‘so will I’ burrowed itself silently into Shouta’s heart. Izuku seemed thoughtful, if a little somber.

 He promised to think about it and then the boy said his goodbye. Shouta watched to make sure he got in the building alright.

“That kid is strong,” he said, mostly to himself, “but I wish he didn’t have to be.”

A soft chill passed through his arm as he pulled onto the road. It seemed Oboro was back, and he agreed.

Chapter Text

Izuku didn’t know what he expected from therapy, but it certainly wasn’t what happened. All he did was talk. Hound Dog would nod along or make a small comment here or there. That was it. There was no grand reveal about what might be wrong with him, no advice about how to change himself. Well, unless you counted the few suggestions Hound Dog had on managing anxiety, but they were just that: suggestions. He didn’t have to do them if he didn’t want to. Izuku was even doing some of them already, like making lists. There were also no questions about his past, and yet he found himself spouting off all sorts of things. At the end of the nearly two hour introductory session (which had apparently been Aizawa’s idea), Izuku had shared almost everything about the past bullying. It felt…good? But also weird? He hadn’t told anyone before. He never wanted to worry anyone, and he was good at powering through things, but this was…nice. Maybe it was because Hound Dog was a professional, or maybe it was because he was somewhat of a stranger. Strangers didn’t have any personal stake in how his life affected them. 

Whatever the reason, it was nice. Izuku left feeling wrung out, yet relieved, with another appointment set up for the next week. He sighed in the morning sunshine filtering through a hallway window. Technically, Izuku was supposed to be in class, but Hound Dog and Aizawa had been alright with a session at 7:00 in the morning. Yagi had had a doctor’s appointment that morning as well, so they had decided to forego training anyway. Izuku would definitely be squeezing in a workout after school. Aizawa had also promised to keep the class in the classroom until he got back, so he wouldn’t miss out on any training. Although the real reason was probably more along the lines of him not wanting to make Izuku panic. The man truly was a giant softy at heart. Oboro floated next to him, halfway upside down, as he made his way back to class.

“I’ve never seen a ghost as float-y as you,” Izuku commented.

“Eh. That’s because I used to do this all the time. I could make clouds to sit on and float wherever I wanted. Lemme tell you, it got a little tricky getting down sometimes—“

Just as they were passing Recovery Girl’s office, a rather tall woman appeared around the corner of the hallway. She had dark red hair with bright purple streaks. It was up in a bun so tight that it pulled at her face. Thin glasses perched on top of her nose. Her finely tailored suit seemed almost pointy on her bony frame. A briefcase hung from one hand.

“Ah, Midoriya Izuku, just who I wished to find.”

Alarm bells rang in Izuku’s head. Whoever this woman was, she was bad news. The boy fought to keep calm, but it was hard when malevolence permeated the air.

“Want me to go get Shouta?” Oboro asked. Izuku signed ‘no’ with his hand down. Hopefully the woman didn’t notice. They were close enough to 1A’s classroom that Izuku was pretty sure he could make it there. The only problem was that the woman was between him and the classroom.

“I am the HPSC’s children’s liaison, and they’ve sent me to come get y—“

Before she could finish her sentence, Izuku charged Oboro, who catapulted himself at her. While she got pinned to the wall by something she couldn’t see, Izuku booked it. He could hear when the woman got free by the victorious yell that echoed down the hallway. Just a few more feet, and he would be in class. A few more inches—smack! Izuku hit the door face first, but didn’t stop long enough to feel the pain. He slammed the door open, causing several of his classmates to fall out of their seats or jump at the sound of the noise. 

“Midoriya!” The woman’s stern screech came.

Izuku ran to Aizawa, barely missing barreling into the man, and grabbed two fistfuls of the back of his shirt like a toddler. Was it the most dignified thing to do? No. Would his classmates tease him for it? Almost certainly. But Izuku was not going to let a little thing like embarrassment get in the way of his safety. It struck him then that - technically - he didn’t have a reason to be acting like this.

“Iz-Midoriya, what is going on?”

“There you are!” The woman huffed in the doorway, a few strands of hair out of place now. “You are to come with me, young man.”

“And who are you?” Aizawa asked, his eyes narrowed.

“I am Uchima Kazuko, the social worker in charge of our young Izuku. I have come to collect him.”

“Her vibes are rancid,” Izuku muttered, poking his head out to level his best glare at the woman. Someone near the back of the room said something about the lady being bad news if Midoriya was glaring at her. Izuku took half a second to be happy someone would back him up based on that alone.

“I don’t think you want to do that.” Several apprehensive oohs issued from his classmates as Aizawa’s eyes started glowing. “And I’ll ask you to leave my classroom.”

“I will leave your classroom, but it must be with Izuku. I’ve been tasked with bringing him back.”

“Don’t you have a mom, Midoriya?” Kirishima piped up.

“Yes,” Izuku leveled another glare at the woman. “And I’ve never met this woman in my life.”

“You’re making this much harder than it as to be—“

“I’m making this hard? Oh, I’m so sorry I don’t want to be kidnapped—“

“Izuku.” The teacher’s tone made the boy shut up immediately. Aizawa continued talking to Uchima. “You won’t be taking him. And if you have a problem with that, you’re welcome to take things up with Nezu.”

The woman bristled at the principal’s name. Izuku smirked from his hiding spot behind Aizawa’s back. Although, he knew a name that would strike greater fear into her.

“You know, Uchima-san,” Izuku said sweetly, poking his head out again. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I don’t think my mother would be very happy about this.”

“Your mother can’t do anything about this.”

“Really? Because she has about thirty people on speed dial that could make an awfully big mess.” Izuku grinned the way Aizawa did, and was pleasantly surprised when Aizawa joined in. The woman’s stance started to flag.

“I have to agree with Midoriya,” said Aizawa. “I’ve met his mother. I’m willing to bet you’ve at least heard of her. Tell me, have you heard of Midoriya Inko?”

Uchima’s lips formed the word ‘mom,’ although no sound accompanied it. It seemed she did know exactly who she was. The woman remained somewhat composed, but Izuku could feel the fear in the air. The twin smiles and threats must have worked, because she slowly backed out of the room, taking her rancid emotions with her. It was quiet for a moment, then Kaminari piped up.

“Dang, Midoriya, who’s your mom?”

Everyone let out breathy chuckles now that the tension in the room had ceased. Even Aizawa smiled, but he hid it behind his scarf. Oboro watched silently from the back of the room. Izuku finally let go of his teacher’s shirt.

“I’m not going to my other classes today,” he announced. Aizawa turned and gave him an exasperated look.

“Yes, you are, problem child.”

“Nope.” Izuku shook his head. He climbed under Aizawa’s desk. “I’m staying right here.”

“You need to go to your other classes.” Although Aizawa’s tone suggested annoyance, but Izuku could feel the worry beneath it. Was this juvenile? Yes. But would it make both of them feel better if Izuku stayed with him? Also yes.

“I’m not going anywhere with that lady on the loose.” Izuku texted his mom about what happened while he spoke. “There’s no telling what her Quirk is, and legally I have no say in my own life so unless you and Mom and, uh, e-everyone do something about it, she could just sweep in and take me from some other class. Besides, Oboro says you’re boring when you’re alone.”

Aizawa’s phone rang then. He told Izuku to wait, and answered. A few moments later, he closed his eyes, then slowly opened them. 

“Yes, I know…No, I’m sure he…wait, he just texted me. He was watching… I’m not going to do that…I can’t just blatantly…yes, ma’am.” Aizawa hung up and sighed, just as his phone dinged. “Well, kid, we’re in for an awkward day, because someone decided to text your mother.”

“Uh…heh…” Izuku gave a half grimace half smile to his teacher, who scowled. 

“Go get in your seat. I’ll be following you to every class. How your mother got that approved by Nezu so fast, I don’t want to know.”

“She has her ways,” Izuku answered cryptically, although that statement hadn’t really needed a response. There was an awed sort of reverence from his classmates as he sat down.

“Ok, seriously, dude,” Kaminari leaned halfway out of his seat, “who is your mother? Sensei would not listen to just anyone like that.”

“His mother is Midoriya Inko,” Aizawa interrupted, “and unless you want me to unleash her on all of you, I suggest you sit down and pay attention.”

Most of the day went by without incident. Aizawa came to every class with them, but he brought his sleeping bag and slept through it all. It was almost like he wasn’t there. The only thing that got his attention was the press breaking in, but even that didn’t pull him away. Although…it was an awfully big coincidence that the press broke in on the same day Uchima-san was sent to the school…Izuku scowled. If it had been Uchima-san, then she was petty. Very petty. But if it wasn’t…

Chapter Text

A few days later, Izuku sat, waiting for class to start. The entry in his journal about Mount Lady was nearly finished. He had been hounded the last few days about his relationship to Aizawa and who his mom was, which he brushed off as his teacher and his mom knew each other years ago and had just reconnected regarding a hero case that she had witnessed. Not technically a lie, but he wasn’t going to just spout out the truth. Oboro had shouted possible answers for him to use, like ‘Aizawa is secretly my dad.’ Izuku ignored him. 

Just as the last stragglers got in the room and Aizawa was about to start class, Hana popped in out of nowhere, sobbing in a ball on the floor. It had been a while since she had shown up. Usually, that meant whatever her brother was going through was bad. Izuku felt a twinge of sorrow for the poor girl, until she looked up.

“I’m sorry, Izuku!” She sobbed. Oboro crouched next to her, rubbing calming circles on her back. He exchanged a look with Izuku, who frowned.

“Hana? What’s wrong?”

“Problem child, I’m in the middle of a lesson. Tell whatever ghost is here that they can talk to you after class.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Hana’s wails nearly drowned out what Aizawa said. She launched herself at his middle, and he fell out of his chair with an oof! He must have charged her accidentally. “They followed me. I’m sorry! I tried to get away without them!”

“Who, Hana?”

“Midoriya, unless this is life or death, you need to take your seat.”

Izuku was about to make a sarcastic retort when a new voice came.

“Ah…” it said. A human figure materialized as if behind a wall of water, slowly solidifying into the form of a man. He was gaunt, wrinkled, and pale. His skin hung off him like a deflated Sharpei. “So, this is where you run off to, little one. Mm, I can see why. The power on this one…”

“Who are you?” Izuku demanded. Usually with ghost strangers, Izuku avoided acknowledging them and they eventually left. That trick wouldn’t work here, what with Hana clutching him around the middle. Izuku scooped her into his arms and slowly backed into the corner next to Yaoyorozu, who looked at him with concern. 

“I am not your concern, child. Well, not yet, anyway. Hana is my only concern. She has wronged the great Quirk master, and must pay for her crimes.”

Izuku was vaguely aware of Aizawa asking something, but didn’t really hear him. Oboro took up a place in front of the ghost man.

“Listen, you wet rag looking piece of crap, I’m not going to let you hurt them.”

“Oh, I remember you,” the man said, and Oboro took an involuntary step back. “You’re that twerp we pulled from the rubble. How adorable. You insist on being a hero, when your body is now a villain.”

“What…?” Oboro faltered, then shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m no villain, and I won’t be letting you hurt my friends.”

The man cackled, and flew - actually flew! - at them, his skin flapping in nonexistent wind. Izuku clutched his small friend tighter, pouring every ounce of energy he could into both Oboro and Hana. The other ghost man. The lights flickered, and even the sunlight dimmed as the man met with Oboro. Oboro got in one, two good hits, and then…the man passed through him as if he were made of slime. Slowly, difficultly, but through him nonetheless. Izuku watched in horror as the man advanced, but he passed through Hana the same way, and through Izuku like nothing more than wind. The man howled his displeasure, and backed away.

“Midoriya?” Aizawa’s voice registered distantly. “Are you all right?”

“I will be back, child,” the man hissed, “and you will not escape me then. I just hope you enjoy your little field trip today.”

“What field trip?” Izuku asked numbly as the man disappeared the same way he came. The boy collapsed backward, until he sat, shivering, on the floor.

“Izuku?” Finally, Aizawa’s face came into focus. “What happened?”

“I-I…” Izuku choked out a sob, still holding onto Hana for dear life. Her ghostly tears soaked his shirt.

“There was another ghost,” Oboro said, and Izuku gasped when Aizawa turned to face him. In fact, the entire class seemed to be switching their attention from Oboro to Hana and back. “He attacked, and it passed right through us. He…he said something about my body…”

“Can y-you a-all s-see them?” Most of his classmates nodded, all of them pale. Aizawa looked fine outwardly, but Izuku could feel the panic, disbelief, and worry beneath his calm exterior. Hana wiggled around to face them all.

“Don’t go to the USJ today!” She cried. Her little arms wrapped around one of Izuku’s. “Tenko and a bunch of others are coming. They’re gonna kill All Might!”

“All right, take a breath,” said Aizawa. Clearly, his hero tendencies were taking over, because he continued, “It’s all right. Nothing bad is going to happen. I doubt anyone can beat All Might.”

“Yes they can!” Hana said. “They have a monster! They said so! Tenko’s sensei said so on the TV!”

“Okay, we’ll reschedule. Just…try to relax.” Aizawa remained focused on where Hana was, but his gaze became more…vague, for lack of a better word. Hana fell through Izuku’s arm, and Oboro picked her up. She sobbed into his shoulder.

“I-I take it th-they’re invisible a-again?”

Aizawa nodded. “Are they still here?”

“Y-yes.”

“Will you ask them to leave? I have some questions.”

“I-if you’re w-wondering how trustworthy H-Hana is, she’s t-trustworthy. She’s been t-telling me things f-for a l-long time. I-if we were s-supposed to g-go to a ‘USJ’ today, we shouldn’t. And if a-anyone is there, they sh-should leave.”

“All right. I’ll let Thirteen know. And what about you?”

“W-what about me?”

“How do you feel?”

“N-not great. Exhausted, l-like I just r-ran a m-marathon. Sh-shaky. L-lightheaded.”

“Garbage can?”

“N-no. I d-don’t feel s-sick like that th-this time.” 

Aizawa sighed and sat back on his feet.

“That was life or death, wasn’t it?” It was a question, but sounded more like a statement. Izuku nodded. His shakiness wasn’t going away, and neither would the tears. That had been scary, scarier than anything he’d ever seen. Ghosts never sought him out, and the ones he had met didn’t give off such threatening auras. On impulse, Izuku climbed onto Aizawa’s lap, burrowed his face into his shirt, and cried. Aizawa rubbed his back, like his mother would when he was upset. He wondered idly if Mom was who taught his teacher to do that. After a few minutes, Izuku’s breathing calmed, and he drifted to sleep.

—————

The classroom was silent. Shouta didn’t think he’d ever heard it so quiet. There were a few looks of fear on the faces of his students, although most just looked confused. Izuku slept peacefully in his arms. Shouta lifted him up. 

“None of you are to speak about this. Until we know what’s going on, we will act like nothing is happening. Oboro, are you still here?”

The lights flickered once, causing the students to jump.

“Good. Do you know any way to prevent this from happening again?”

One flicker. This time less people jumped. Shouta tucked Izuku into his sleeping bag in the front of the room. 

“Whatever it is, do it. And do it now.”

Two flickers.

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

Everyone’s eyes widened as two markers floated slowly up to the white board. One began a message, the other seemed to be completing it in childish writing on the other side of the board. It took five minutes for the full message to appear.

Ghost in walls. Need Izu. 

Ghost stay, ward off bad things. 

Works on tech. Never had bad ghost before. 

works on bad idk

The markers dropped.

“So Midoriya needs to do it?”

Two flickers, then one. Todoroki piped up from the back of the room. He had been the quietest kid in class until now, so it came as a bit of a shock to hear his voice.

“Perhaps he means that the ghosts have to choose to do it. Like hiring someone. You can’t hire one if they don’t apply for the job.”

One flicker.

“So Midoriya has to ask for their help?” Shouta pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course he does. Why would this be simple?”

“Sensei?” Ururaka asked. “Is Deku okay? What was that?”

“I’m not entirely sure, kid. Midoriya and I will be having a discussion when he wakes up. For now, you can all work on whatever you want. I need to do something.” Shouta wrote his number on the board. “Behave yourselves. If anything happens, text me. If Midoriya wakes up before I come back, give him space. Oboro, stay here and protect him in case that ghost comes back.”

And with that, Shouta went to rally the teachers.

—————

This was a bad idea. The teachers had put together a strike team in less than twenty minutes, and went to the USJ to deal with whatever threat came their way. They had left All Might and Midnight as the protectors of the main campus, despite the former’s depleted time limit. Shouta had had to talk him into guarding Izuku to keep the guy from coming with them. If All Might went down, that would spell disaster for a lot of things.

 When they got to the USJ, there were already at least eighty small-time villains meandering around. Snipe had taken a good portion of them out, and the other teachers faced off against the others. Three stepped out of a dark, swirling portal. Shouta had flared his Quirk at the three main villains who had introduced themselves as the League of Villains. Shigaraki, Kurogiri, and Nomu. They demanded All Might, and when they didn’t get him, Shigaraki attacked. It was like watching a toddler throw a temper tantrum. Despite all the backup, Shouta’s elbow got partially disintegrated when he got too close.

“Get him!” Vlad yelled. He had blood tendrils holding the Nomu, who was already trying to flex out of its bonds. Mic and Thirteen were working together to keep Kurogiri from forming portals, while Ectoplasm and Cementoss kept Shigaraki busy. Shouta bounced between all three, lending his Quirk to whoever needed it most. Shouta was about to take on the Nomu when it ripped free.

“Go kill All Might!” Shigaraki’s raspy voice screeched. The purple villain said something about that being a bad idea, and the thing was off like a shot. Vlad managed to get one bloody tendril hooked on, and sent one out behind him to grab Shouta. It snagged him around his middle, and he cursed as it dragged him with them. 

The ride was not smooth. The two heroes had to do high speed parkour, and they both got facefuls of tree branches, rocks, and even some concrete that the Nomu flipped up. It was a miracle Vlad managed to keep his grip on his Quirk. By the time they slowed down, Shouta had a split lip, a cut under his eye, and he was pretty sure his right arm was broken in multiple places. The Nomu paused for a small moment, as if searching the building in front of them. Movement in a window caught both its and Shouta’s eyes. There, on the third floor, in his classroom, was All Might staring out the window. Shouta would have facepalmed if he wasn’t busy trying to restrain the thing with one usable arm. He could have killed All Might when most of his students’ faces appeared right next to his. Nomu pulled against its restraints, and the second Shouta had to blink it practically flew up the side of the building.

Glass crashed down around the two pros as the Nomu forced its way through the wall. The kids huddled in the corner of the classroom, All Might in a defensive position in front of them. Shouta was impressed to see most of his students in a similar position. Izuku was, of course, smack dab in the middle, right next to All Might. 

Vlad wrangled one of Nomu's arms while Shouta restrained the other. The monster slowed slightly, and Shouta used the opportunity to leap up and straddle it while using his scarf to pin its arm back at an awkward angle. All Might let out a mighty yell, something about Texas, and Shouta braced himself to be blown back. Nothing happened. Shouta glanced over the creature’s brain and past its beak. All Might’s fist was in the thing’s stomach, but no damage could be seen. No blood, no groaning, nothing. It broke Vlad’s hold by throwing him through a wall, then grabbed All Might around the middle, forcing a pained cry from the hero. The man’s blood ran down its purple fingers.

And then Shouta’s fear spiked when he saw his students dashing forward. Kirishima, hardened and ready to rumble, attacked with all his might. Ashido sprayed acid at its feet, then Todoroki sent iced spikes at it. One after the other, his students attacked. If it were any other situation, he would be proud of the teamwork they were displaying. Right now, all he could think was that he had to protect his kids.

“Get to safety!” Shouta yelled. Some of the kids made for the door. Izuku, surprisingly, stayed back. His ready position wavered, as if he wasn’t sure what he was seeing, and then…Shouta’s head was thrown through a wall and everything went black.

—————

The appearance of all the previous holders of One for All was unexpected but very much appreciated. When the giant purple…man? Monster? Thing?…had shown up, Izuku had nearly lost his lunch. There were so many emotions coming from it, yet nothing at the same time. It threw him off, but luckily the ghosts were there to pick up the slack. Izuku prepared to charge them just as the window exploded. Aizawa yelled for them to do something, but Izuku didn’t really hear him. His gaze was locked on the ghostly tendrils waving around the monster. So many…one turned into a hand briefly, then shifted into a warped face. Limbs, joints, heads. A writhing mass. 

Aizawa’s body went flying, and landed halfway through the wall. He wasn’t moving. Vlad-sensei tried wrangling the creature back while an injured All Might punched it the best he could. It didn’t stop the thing from hitting anything that came close. Kaminari made a mad dash for the door, but got thrown back by a giant hand. Yaoyorozu tripped over a desk that was suddenly in her way. There was a sickening crack, and her leg was bent in a place it should not bend. Todoroki shot an icy shield between her and the creature, which saved her from being skewered by the second desk. All Might, despite his injury, seemed to be gearing up to send the creature into orbit. Making a split second decision, Izuku dashed forward. 

“Young Midoriya!” All Might yelled. The unspoken ‘what are you doing?’ sat heavy in the air. Izuku didn’t answer. He jumped over a thrown desk, vaulted up the creature’s arm, and straddled its neck, much like his teacher had not five minutes before. He twisted his arms into the ghostly tendrils, and pulled. The creature froze for a moment, then began to screech. It tried to claw at Izuku, who shifted so his feet were in the middle of its back. He continued pulling until he was standing perpendicular to the floor, the tendrils the only reason he wasn’t falling on his butt. The creature thrashed, moving this way and that until Izuku was careening towards a wall. His teachers shouted to look out, to let go, but Izuku wasn’t going to let this thing hurt his friends. He prepared himself for the inevitable pain. 

With his eyes screwed shut, he hit the wall. Except he didn’t. He stopped moving, sure, but no pain came. The ghost tendrils still writhed in his grasp, so he knew he was still conscious. Izuku cracked his eyes open, only to see a bewildered looking class 1-B, who were upside down from this vantage point.

“Um…hi?” Izuku said just before he was pulled back through the wall. The creature screeched louder while his friends and teachers gaped at the scene. Even the ghosts were frozen in shock. Finally, Izuku pulled the two tendrils he had a hold on hard enough for them to separate. There was a squelching tearing sound as two massive chunks of the monster separated with the tendrils. It writhed as it collapsed, now missing an arm and a chunk of its torso. The arm somehow healed the broken skin and twitched on the ground. The torso part oozed blood, but didn’t move. The ghosts of One for All and Oboro found themselves at that point and each grabbed hold of a tendril as well. Little by little, the creature was pulled apart. Izuku stood, gasping.

“Well,” he said, poking the brain that now laid at his feet, “that’s gross.”

Izuku took a moment to take stock of his surroundings. Desks were strewn about. Two of his classmates, Aoyama and Kouda, nearly fainted. Mineta did faint, and Jirou didn’t look too good. Kaminari held his chest while being carried by Iida. All Might, Vlad-sensei, and Bakugo stared in disbelief at the carnage in front of them. Izuku was sure Bakugo would get angry soon, and insist that he had everything under control. Todoroki seemed oddly emotionless about the entire thing. Izuku made a mental note to look into that. 

Yaoyorozu whimpered as she tried to pull herself to the door. Ashido and Shoji picked her up under the arms to help her limp to the door. Ururaka floated part of the wall off of Tokoyami, who was covered in a Dark Shadow shield. Tsu and Hagakure seemed to be the only ones who were able to get out the door before. Sero and Ojiro were gently prodding Aizawa’s leg.

“Sensei?” It was the first thing anyone had said, and everyone’s eyes landed on Sero. “Sensei?”

Izuku’s stomach lurched when the air shimmered around Aizawa. No. No, no, no, no, no. He couldn’t be dying. Aizawa was unbeatable. Aizawa always knew what to do. Aizawa always survived. Vlad-sensei finally shook himself and moved.

“Step away,” he told the boys, pulling out his phone with one hand and checking Aizawa’s pulse with the other. “Don’t move him. Recovery Girl will be here soon.”

“Aizawa?” The name tore itself from Izuku’s throat, coming out in little more than a croak. The shimmering air started to solidify into Aizawa’s form.

“I…zu…ku…?”

Tears ran down Izuku’s face. Aizawa was nearly dead, although not quite. His form was still very transparent, and not very coherent.

“H-how long until R-Recovery Girl g-gets here?” He asked. There was still a chance, right?

“Not long,” was Vlad-sensei’s answer, but Izuku could feel the discomfort from the man. He was lying. Aizawa’s ghost got more solid by the second. Oboro sobbed next to him. Shaking, Izuku tore his eyes away from where the wall that held his teacher. His eyes landed on the detached arm, its tendril curling in the air. All of the tendrils were curling in the air. Forms were slowly materializing, misshapen but there. The arm tendril was turning into a woman.

“Wh-er-re a-am-m I-I-I?” She asked. Her voice sounded like it was glitching. She had no defining features, just a misty, generally feminine form. “Wh-y a-m I-I-I he-r-re?”

Izuku’s head whipped back and forth between her and Aizawa, a thought forming. It was a long shot, but maybe…?

“You’re at UA,” Izuku said, fully aware of the concerned looks coming from his classmates. “You’re here to help.”

Izuku pulled the ghost over to Aizawa, charging her as much as he possibly could. Her form didn’t solidify, but he could tell from the gasps around him that she was visible.

“I don’t know if you can, but please try to heal him.”

“H-h-m-m…” the ghost leaned over Aizawa, placing a hand on his chest. It glowed, and she gradually sunk into him. A few moments passed, and she reappeared, almost completely transparent. Aizawa’s ghost faded. “Th-th-thank y-ou-ou f-or f-ree-i-ing u-u-u-s.”

Izuku looked to the other tendrils, who were all getting more and more transparent. They dissipated into nothing.

“Where did they go?” Izuku whispered. The ghost answered in a more clear voice as she faded.

“Wh-where w-e wer-re sup-pp-p-osed to g-g-go. Ou-ou-r time w-was lo-ong gon-ne. W-we-e do no-ot ne-ed to sta-ay. Goo-ood b-b-bye.”

No one moved. No one spoke. Izuku knew he would pass out for the second time that day any moment now, but he couldn’t. He refused to. Oboro held onto his arm, and Izuku became very aware of an energy flowing into him, keeping him upright as they watched. Aizawa shifted, and rubble trickled onto the floor as he extricated himself. He groaned, and stood on unsteady legs.

“What…happened?” There were several relieved cries from the people around them, until Aizawa turned and puked, and collapsed against the wall, barely staying upright. Vlad-sensei used a blood tendril to support Aizawa while he helped support All Might. “Ugh…I feel like I just got thrown around in a cement mixer.”

“You’re okay,” Izuku cried, throwing his arms around the older man.

“I guess so.” 

Vlad-sensei’s blood held them both up now, and Izuku slipped slowly out of consciousness.

Chapter Text

“This young man is something, isn’t he?” Chiyo was busy checking over an unconscious Izuku while Shouta sat next to them in an armchair. All Might was set up in the other bed. 

After Vlad had summoned Recovery Girl, the old woman had stabilized All Might and Izuku, then sent Vlad to the infirmary with them. The other students helped transport each other as well. Yaoyorozu’s leg had healed quickly, and Kaminari’s ribs weren’t much worse. Vlad was watching over them all while they waited for the students’ parents to pick them up. His class had been lucky overall. Except Izuku, who was suffering from a very severe case of Quirk exhaustion. Apparently, he had not only pulled the Nomu apart, but also charged a ghost so much, that it could use its Quirk, which shouldn’t have been possible. Then again, ghosts shouldn’t be possible, and yet here they were. 

Honestly, Shouta wasn’t sure what the ghost had done or how it had done it. He was certainly healthy now, but he still felt like crap. He had a raging headache, and his stomach threatened to rebel because of it.

“His Quirk is quite unique,” Chiyo continued. “It seems to have a lot to do with energy transference, although that doesn’t explain the ghosts.”

“Mm.”

“Shouta-kun, you don’t look good, dear. Are you feeling alright?”

Instead of answering, Shouta rushed into the small bathroom attached to the infirmary and emptied his stomach again. Chiyo frowned. She set about running a diagnostic on him while he held onto the sides of the toilet. A few minutes later, after Shouta’s stomach settled a little, Chiyo gasped at the results.

“Shouta, your Quirk factor! It…it mutated! The mutation seems to be regressing, but it’s there. Your Quirk is currently a fusion of some sort of regeneration and Erasure.”

“Then why do I feel like crap? Shouldn’t it be making me feel better?”

“Well, no. I suspect the regression is to blame. You should be back to just Erasure in a day or so. In the meantime, you should take it easy. Take a few days off.” 

“Sure…” Shouta groaned. He laid his head against the toilet, eyes angled so he could see through the door and to the bed Izuku laid on. His eyes drifted shut for a small moment. When he opened them, Hizashi sat in the doorway, playing a game on his phone, while Nemuri ran her fingers through his hair. It felt kind of nice. Neither of them were in their hero costumes. This wasn’t the first time one of them had ended up in the infirmary (and probably not the last either), but it was always disconcerting when you thought you were closing your eyes for a second which turned out to be minutes. Or hours? The sunlight coming from the window was tinted orange, casting the entire room in a warm glow. Chairs had been pulled to either side of Izuku’s bed. One held Inko, who leaned on the side of the bed with a hand on Izuku’s arm. The other held Hawks, who was a mess of tangled limbs as he slept sideways with his knees pulled up to his chest. His wings were small, and Shouta was sure the man had brought that pin cushion with him, although he couldn’t see it.

“Mm…Nem?”

“Oh, you’re awake!” Nemuri whispered. “How’re you feeling, Sho?”

“Dunno yet. Water first,” he said as he sat up. His neck ached from the position he’d been in

“I’ve got you,” Hizashi said. He disappeared for a moment and came back with a paper cup. Shouta sipped at it and winced when the cold water hit his stomach. It was fine, but he hated being able to tell exactly where the water was in his body. Felt weird. 

“How’s the kid?”

“Still asleep,” Hizashi answered.

“And All Might?”

“Up and about, sorta. I think he’s asleep right now, though. Recovery Girl gave him some pretty strong painkillers.”

“What time is it?”

Hizashi checked his phone. “Almost 7.”

Shouta sighed. When he had started teaching, his required patrols had been cut back to between one and three times per week. Usually, he would do five. He didn’t think he would make it tonight. His patrol would start between eight and ten, and last between six and eight hours. Maybe tonight, he would only do four.

“Oh, no,” said Nemuri, “I know that look. You are not going on patrol tonight.”

“Nemuri—“

“Sho,” said Hizashi, “if you wanna patrol, you’re gonna have to get through both of us, Inko Midoriya, and Recovery Girl. You really think you can do that?”

“Fine, I’ll stay put,” Shouta said, leaning back until his back was against the wall. “But I’m still teaching tomorrow.”

“No, you’re not.” Hizashi held up a hand to stop Shouta’s protests before continuing, “It’s not about you. Nezu gave everyone the day off tomorrow, so if you show up there will be no one to teach. And Friday is optional.”

“Oh.” Shouta looked to where his problem child lay. “I guess that won’t be too bad.”

“Aw, you really have a soft spot for the little listener, don’t you?”

“I do not,” Shouta refuted, turning his head away. His friends rolled their eyes. They all knew he did. 

When Shouta turned back, Inko was suddenly there as well. She kneeled just outside the door, tears in her eyes.

“How did this happen?” She asked. That question would have put him on edge with any other parent, but she wasn’t demanding answers. She just wanted to hear his side of the story.

“Because I failed,” whispered Shouta. And Oh. That was part of what was making him feel sick still. He had been ignoring it until now. He sighed. Somehow, the Midoriyas seemed to get to the root of a problem with scary efficiency, and always at just the right moment. And there was something about them that just made you spill your guts, whether you wanted to or not. Inko shook her head.

“It wasn’t your fault. And I, as a parent, will always be scared for my child’s safety. Especially after this. But from what everyone has told me, you all did everything you could to keep everyone safe. So, thank you.”

Instead of saying ‘you’re welcome’ or anything like that, Shouta froze

“Wait…what about all the other villains? What happened to them?”

“Captured,” Nemuri answered. “The main ones are in custody as well. You know, the handy guy and his warper. They’re eerily stoic about the whole thing.”

“Well, except for the temper tantrum. Handy got pretty mad,” Hizashi laughed. “He actually kicked and screamed on the ground like a toddler.”

“Hm…” Inko had a thoughtful look. “Maybe I should pay him a visit…”

“If anyone is going to talk sense into a manchild, it would be you, Inko-San.” Everyone chuckled at that. Shouta even cracked a smile. It disappeared once he focused on Izuku again. “I think…as soon as he’s recovered…”

Inko followed his gaze, and nodded slowly.

“I think so, too.”

“Think what?” Hizashi’s head whipped between his friend and his student’s parent. “Are you not telling me something again?”

“It’s…” Inko started. “You may find out at some point, but right now, those that need to know already know.”

“Oh, it’s a top secret thing.” Hizashi made finger guns. “I got ya. As long as Sho-er, uh, Aizawa knows, I’m good.”

An awkward silence fell, until Nemuri changed the subject.

“Well, how about I go get us some dinner? Midoriya-san, what would you like?”

“Whatever you get would be fine for me.” Inko glanced at Hawks. “Um, but maybe some fried chicken for Takami? Recovery Girl said Izuku wouldn’t wake up until probably tomorrow, so you don’t have to worry about getting anything else.”

“Get extra chicken,” said Shouta. “We can put it in the teachers’ fridge. If he wakes up before tomorrow, he’ll be hungry.”

“On it!”

—————

It was a bright morning. Very few people had shown up for the optional Friday classes. Of course, most of the hero students had shown up, as well as a good chunk of the support course, but the others were so few that two of the civilian business course teachers had volunteered to take them all for the day. This had left Hizashi free to do as he pleased. And he pleased himself to get his grocery shopping done.

His and Shouta's apartment wasn’t as close to campus as he would have liked, but it was only short bus ride away. The nice thing about that was that there was a lovely little grocery store near UA that Hizashi quite liked. It was a short walk, and had a bus stop right outside. Technically, it was still Shouta's turn to buy groceries, but he had just been beaten half to death and healed not two days ago. He also hated shopping, and Hizashi was more than willing to do the shopping for him.

After finishing with the store, Hizashi noticed how beautiful it was outside right now. It would be a shame to waste the day on the bus…He glanced at the groceries. They were mostly nonperishable. It would be a long walk to the apartment, but if he got tired he would always hop on at the next bus stop. Whistling as he went, Hizashi set of toward home.

—————

All for One smiled as he watched the hacked camera feeds. Just as he did for everything else, he had several plans to get Tomura back. Three plans were currently in motion. The last resort would be physically having him broken out. Plan A was to infiltrate and release, although that would have taken a much longer time than he would have liked. But Plan B…despite his aching lungs, All for One chuckled at Plan B. It wasn’t as likely to succeed as Plan A, but it had a chance. And, just his luck,a target had just presented himself. He was even walking toward the people he had in place, the pompous cockatoo. Even better, the man was in civilian clothes, not a support item in sight. All for One signaled the team to get ready.

Chapter Text

Something felt off when Hizashi came upon a little park. It was nearly silent, except for a very light breeze tickling his neck. He frowned. Only one other person was on the surrounding sidewalks - just a teenage girl, likely skipping school. But it felt like there were more eyes watching him. Hizashi kept up the whistling. The girl was walking the opposite direction he was, and they would cross paths soon. Hopefully, whatever eyes were on them weren’t on her. 

“Oh my gosh!” The girl squealed when she got close. “Are you Present Mic?!”

“Yes, I am listener!” Hizashi responded, casting his gaze over the trees. “I’m surprised you recognized me! Not many do when I’m out of costume.”

“Oh, wow! Can I have a picture?”

“Uh, not today, sorry,” Hizashi said. He tired not to show how distracted he was by looking around. “I try not to take pictures in civvies. Not good for the brand, you see. But I can certainly give you an autograph, and I think I have…”

He shifted all the grocery bags to one hand and fished around in his pockets until he found what he wanted.

“Ah, here we go. If you take this card to Put Your Hands Up Radio, they can schedule you a full meet and greet, and you can get pictures then if you’d like.”

“Wow, thank you so much!” The girl’s blonde buns bounced as she jumped in excitement. Something about her excitement seemed strange, just like the atmosphere. Or maybe not. If he was suspecting this teenage fan, maybe he was just overthinking. The USJ incident must have him on edge. That was all. No one was watching him, or this girl.

“Well, I’ll be on my way then.” Hizashi took one step away.

 “Just one more thing, Present Mic-san!”

Hizashi turned, ready to make some excuse to get out of the situation, when something hard and metal forced itself into his mouth. The girl snapped something behind his head, and it tightened. It. It was a muzzle. Panic rose in his gut.

“Come get him!” The girl called, and a van screeched down the lane.

No. Not happening. Hizashi dropped his bags, dodged the girl’s outstretched hands - which suddenly held daggers - and booked it back the way he came. He could hear footsteps behind him, chasing him. He ran and ran and ran. UA was still close, UA was safe. His chest constricted. He could barely breathe although the muzzle didn’t cover his nose. He needed to get it off. Now. People gave him wary looks and actively dove out of his way as he careened down the sidewalk. 

There. There it was. UA. Hound Dog was just leaving the gate, likely to do a midmorning patrol of the surrounding streets. Hizashi waved frantically. Leave the gate open, please, please, PLEASE . Hound Dog saw him, waved him through, and immediately started barking at his pursuers. Hizashi didn’t stop to think, he didn’t stop to catch his breath even though his lungs were burning. He didn’t stop.

Gotta get to Nemuri. She knows about this stuff, she can get it off. Get it off, get it off, get it off. Suddenly, he was at the teachers’ lounge. The empty teachers’ lounge. Hizashi fought to keep his breathing under control. It’s not coming off, it’s not coming off! He pulled at it as he ran. If Nemuri wasn’t in the lounge, she was probably in class. Right? Where was her class? He couldn’t breathe . Before long, Hizashi was just about ready to pass out. Get it off ! He ran straight into someone and they both tumbled to the floor. It was a tired looking purple haired boy. Get it off ! 

“Yamada-sensei?” 

Hizashi barely even heard him over the pulse racing in his ears. Get it off, please get it off! As if hearing his thoughts, the boy tried unclasping the muzzle, but to no avail. Not working not working not working. Get it off!

“Okay, Yamada-sensei. I can’t get it off. I’m not familiar with this model. But we’ll get it off, I promise. Just…take some deep breaths, please?”

Hizashi did his best. On some level, he felt bad for putting a student through this, but he couldn’t push past his panic.

“Um…I think we’re closer to the hero classes than to mine. Can I take you to another teacher?”

‘Aizawa ,’ Hizashi signed, although he doubted the boy would understand. He started signing 1A as well, over and over and over. Get it off get it off get it off getitoffgetitoffgetitoff—

“Whoah, slow down! I know sign language, but my comprehension isn’t great at high speeds. I’ll get you to Aizawa-sensei.” The boy took him by the wrist and led him down the hall. Hizashi wasn’t sure where they even were until he was being pulled through a doorway.

“Uh, hi, sir.”

“Yamada?!”

At the sight of his friend, Hizashi started to sign frantically. ‘Get Nemuri.’ ‘Get this thing off.’ Help me, please, please, help me.’ ‘Get it off!’ Shouta said something, but he couldn’t focus. It was like trying to listen while you drowned. Finally, two hands grabbed his wrists. Without thinking, Hizashi lashed out, kicking Aizawa hard enough to throw him across the room. Shouta rolled and returned with his hands up. Slowly, he took Hizashi by the wrists again, this time pulling them away from his face.

“Stop that. You’re hurting yourself. Try to calm down. I already texted Nemuri. She’ll be here soon, as well as Power Loader. That thing looks complicated.”

What simultaneously felt like two seconds and two hours passed, and Nemuri barreled into the room.

“Hizashi!” Fingers immediately began fiddling at the band on the back of his head. It felt so familiar, as if she had done this just yesterday. In reality, it was nearly ten years ago the last time she had had to help him like this. A wave of those memories washed over him—

Shut up!

Just sit still!

I like you better as a silent songbird, sweetheart.

Don’t you use your Quirk like that!

I don’t know how you ever thought you could be a hero—

Tears ran down his face faster the longer the muzzle stayed on. The fingers disappeared from the back of his head and made soft circles on his back. Someone was telling him that it would be okay, we’ll get it off, just breathe. Hizashi clawed at the thing again, pulling until it hurt, until someone took his hands away again. Make it stop. I don’t like it. The salt of his tears stung his cheeks as he sobbed. 

And then the panic just melted away. Hizashi took a few shaky breaths with his eyes closed. He was now aware of the wall behind his back. His head was leaned back, his arms curled around his legs. He was vaguely aware of a pressure on his side and something soft against his cheek. When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was a head of green hair. Midoriya. Midoriya had sat next to him, head on his shoulder, and just leaned over. Just sitting next to him, mostly. Midoriya raised his head once he noticed Hizashi’s eyes were open.

“Good job, kid,” said Shouta. The man patted Midoriya’s curls, and turned to another student. “You, too, Shinso.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Midoriya had a distant look on his face, and then suddenly he was crying. Nemuri frowned from where she sat next to Hizashi, one hand on his. Shouta sighed.

“Point me at him, Izuku.” After turning to face where Midoriya pointed, Shouta glared. “Oboro, I don’t know what you just told him, but shut up. Now’s not the time.”

“He says to tell you that if he didn’t I wouldn’t have been able to do…well, this.” Midoriya gestured vaguely. “I will admit, it helps when I can tell where my emotions end and someone else’s begin.”

‘How are you doing this?’ Hizashi signed, expecting Aizawa to translate. Instead, Midoriya turned and answered by signing himself.

‘It’s part of my Quirk, I think. I can feel other people’s emotions, and I recently figured out I can change them. Not permanently, and I’m not sure how long this will last, but I can help for a minute.’

‘Fluent in sign language and English, I see.’ Hizashi couldn’t help the little dig.

‘Well…sign yes. English, no. Oboro gave me the answers the other day. I told him to stop doing that, though. A one time prank is harmless, but I actually do want to learn English.’

‘You’re a good kid,’ Shouta signed, and Midoriya shrugged. 

‘I’m more like a problem child, honestly. I keep attracting trouble.’

Shouta actually laughed at that. Hizashi tried, but ended up gagging instead. He took a few heavy breaths. Midoriya was right about his Quirk. He might feel better right now, but the panic was just under the surface. 

“Um…is anyone else confused?” A voice piped up. Sero, if Hizashi remembered correctly. And suddenly Hizashi was very aware of all the eyes on him. He had just been panicking horribly, and in front of an entire class, no less. He looked at the ground. How was he going to fix this? No student should have to see their teacher like this.

“He got attacked,” Midoriya said for him. But, how did he know? “A girl pretended to be a fan, and when he was distracted, she put that…thing…on him. And then a bunch of guys showed up in a van. They were going to take him and use him as leverage. Hound Dog-sensei is arresting them now. Apparently the girl got away.”

Hizashi furrowed his brows. There was no way the kid could know all of that—

“How do you know, kid?”

“I’ve had ghosts following as many people as possible for the last two days.”

“What?!” The entire class exclaimed.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds!” Midoriya held his hands up, as if to show he was harmless. “It’s just while you’re in public, just in case! I was worried.”

“And for good reason, it seems.” Shouta raised a brow. “Who’s been following me?”

“Oboro. He always follows either you or Yamada-sensei. Sometimes Kayama-sensei, but he says following her around is a risk to his innocence.”

“And that’s enough of that,” Shouta muttered. He stood from his crouch and addressed his class. “Now, I know a lot of you are probably worried, maybe even a little scared. That’s normal. This is an important lesson in heroics. You are not infallible. Someone, at some point, will get the drop on you. They might act on an insecurity or a trauma. You need to be able to function long enough to get to safety. Yamada, as soon as that thing was put on, what did you do?”

‘Ran back here, avoiding as many civilians as possible. They were after me, so they ignored everyone else. I was panicking badly, though. I may have missed something.’ Hizashi signed, Shouta translated.

“Even in the face of danger and having his trauma literally shoved in his face, Yamada kept his head enough to get somewhere safe. How many of you think you could do that if you had to face a Nomu or similar creature again? This actually brings me to today’s topic: therapy. After the attack two days ago—“

Shouta continued explaining why therapy was integral to being a hero while Power Loader finally showed up. The other pro poked and prodded at the muzzle’s locking mechanism while Midoriya tried to keep Hizashi calm using his magic emotion Quirk. It was all right, until Majima stopped prodding.

“I’m so sorry about this, Yamada,” he said.

‘I don’t like that tone…’

“What, Majima?” Nemuri asked.

“I can’t just dismantle this thing. It’s wound around itself so tightly that it will get tighter if I try to physically remove it. And it’ll take me at least six hours to decode and unlock it.”

Hizashi’s heart and breathing rate skyrocketed. Six hours?! In a muzzle? !

“What if it shorted out?” Midoriya asked. “Like if its power supply was blocked or unresponsive?”

“I’m afraid that wouldn’t work either. I would have to short the entire thing at once, it would lock in place, and then we’d still have to cut it off. And with the kind of metal it has…nothing short of a blowtorch would work.”

Midoriya frowned, clearly deep in thought. A hesitant voice joined the conversation.

“Power Loader-sensei?” Ashido asked. “What about my acid? It’s corrosive, and it might burn Mic-sensei’s skin a little, but if you can short it out then maybe I can get it off?”

“That’s not a bad idea, but it’s still going to take me at least an hour to short it out without causing Yamada severe damage.”

“Oh, I’ve got that covered,” said Midoriya. “Oboro—hey wait not yet!”

A wave of cold passed over Hizashi, and the muzzle loosened. It was barely noticeable, but noticeable nonetheless. Ashido got out of her seat and knelt in front of him.

“I’m really sorry in advance if I get any acid on you. I’m going to try really hard not to.”

Hizashi closed his eyes, and slowly, ever so slowly, the muzzle loosened. The band fell away and he tore the thing from his face and threw it to the side. He gasped in breath after breath as the class cheered. Ashido had gotten only one drop of acid on him. He smiled softly.

“You’re my hero, Miss Ashido.”

“Uh, o-oh, well, it was nothing,” she blushed. Hizashi ran a hand over his face as he stood.

“I’m sorry you all had to see me like that. I…haven’t had the best experiences with muzzles.”

“I feel ya,” Shinso muttered from where he leaned against the wall. Then, he seemed to realize he had said that more loudly than he meant to. “Uh, I mean…”

“You take that back!” Midoriya suddenly shouted, jumping to his feet. 

“Um…what?” Shinso looked to the teachers for help.

“Ghost Quirk,” said Aizawa. “Midoriya, what’s wrong?”

“Oh it’s just some idiot who thinks Shinso…uh…actually maybe I shouldn’t repeat that.”

“What, is the ghost of my mom here or something?” Shinso rolled his eyes. “Let me guess, she’s saying I’m a monster. Or maybe saying I deserved a muzzle too? Heh. Too bad she’s dead and can’t do anything to me now. Screw you, womb lender.”

“Oh, that was not great. She is…how are you not flinching? That’s got to be cold.”

“I get cold chills all the time,” Shinso shrugged. “My current foster mom took me to the doctor for them and they said nothing’s wrong. And, yes, senseis, this is my not so subtle way of telling you I’m safe at home. I actually like the family I’m with this time, and I’d rather not have you poking your nose where it doesn’t belong and messing it up.”

“You’re all so manly,” said Kirishima, wiping a tear. Shinso seemed a little put off by that statement, as if he had been expecting some sort of fight or argument. Hizashi shook his head. 

“Okay, today has been a little too much. I think I’m just going to go now. I’ll see you all Monday.”

“Hizashi,” Shouta stopped him, “don’t go home by yourself again. Nemuri or I can drive you.”

“If he would just get a car he wouldn’t have to wait,” said Nemuri.

“I’ll get a car when you get a personality,” Hizashi sassed back. “But fine. I’m going to go take a nap. Mind lending me a sleeping bag?”

Shouta scowled at him. Hizashi laughed.

“It was a joke, Aizawa. I have my own blankets. Well, see you all on Monday.”

And with that, Hizashi headed to the teachers’ lounge so he could process everything that had just happened, and probably end up crying himself to sleep. He’d feel pretty good when he woke up, though. The kind of sleep that came after an emotionally exhausting day was the best kind of sleep.

Chapter Text

Yamada-sensei was acting weird. Not like way different, just enough to notice. He was still loud and made big movements, but something was off. Everyone in 1A could tell. Izuku, especially. Even with the Sports Festival coming up, Yamada was kind of…subdued? Maybe subdued wasn’t quite the right word, but it was the closest thing Izuku could think of. It worried Izuku. Especially when he could tune into Yamada’s emotions. The teacher didn’t seem to be completely over the muzzle thing like he was trying to act. It took a little effort, but Izuku waved Oboro over to him during English without anyone noticing. The ghost had taken to staying around Yamada-sensei as if he were Mary and Oboro was a little lamb.

“I thought you didn’t want me to tell you the answers.”

‘I don’t,’ Izuku signed in his subtle way. Aside from that social worker incident, he hadn’t really had to use the modified signs. ‘I want to know if Yamada-sensei is going to therapy, or at least talking to someone? I can already tell you’re worried, and I’m worried too. There’s something different about him today.’

“Yeah…it’ll take him a while to be normal again. I told you this has happened before. He’ll be alright, but it’ll take time.” Oboro cast a worried glance at the front of the room. “He’s trying to make sure you guys aren’t affected by what happened. He’s not okay, but…he doesn’t want you guys to worry.”

“That’s illogical,” Izuku muttered. Kaachan turned around and gave him a look. “Sorry, Kaachan. Didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

“Ah, and we have our volunteer!” Yamada beckoned Izuku to the front of the room. What he had just been volunteered for, he didn’t know. “Now, I want you to do your best to tell the class what you like most about UA. In English, of course.”

Although his pronunciation was probably trash, Izuku was able to stutter his way through his favorite things. He had been studying hard after the USJ. It had helped distract him, and he had memorized a rather large chunk of the vocabulary. He knew more words than most of his classmates combined now. Unfortunately, anxiety set in and he found himself rambling. He liked his friends, he liked that he could use his Quirk, he liked that he didn’t get beaten, burned, or cut–

“...what?” Yamada-sensei frowned.

“What? Did…did I pronounce something wrong?” Izuku shrunk back a little. Yamada-sensei was a far cry from any of his old teachers, but the man’s tone reminded him a little too much of when he would get punished for his wrong answers. Izuku took a small step back. “I didn’t mean to.”

“No, no, kiddo, you actually did very well.” Yamada glanced at the class, then signed, ‘We need to talk after class, you can take your seat now.’ Izuku nodded, although he felt numb for the rest of the hour. What could his teacher need to—It hit him just then, what he had said. He had said it in English, so hopefully no one had understood, but…But. Oh, not good. No, no, no. Izuku sank into his seat as the bell rang. The class filed out…and then there were two. Even Oboro had left the room.

“So, Midoriya.”

“Yes, Yamada-sensei?” Izuku mumbled. There was an awkward silence then, and neither knew quite how to break it. Finally, Yamada sighed, sat back, and ran a hand over his face.

“Midoriya, I won’t pry because I know if you were actually in danger, Aizawa would have already taken care of it. Or at least have something in the works. You’re bound to trust him more than me. I just…I want to make sure.”

And wasn’t that a relief. Hopefully, Yamada wouldn't tell Aizawa. That was a whole can of worms he didn’t need opened.

“Oh. I’m fine, sensei. I just…didn’t have a great time in middle school. I was Quirkless, and now I’m not, so you can probably see why. But my mom has my back, as well as Aizawa-sensei and Yagi-sensei. And the Commission can’t go against All Might. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. It seems like you’ve got a good support system in place. But if you ever need to talk, my door is open. I kind of have experience with harsh treatment,” Yamada chuckled, albeit without much humor. Izuku could feel the borderline embarrassment underneath his concern.

“Thanks, Yamada-sensei. I’ll…keep that in mind.” Izuku decided to try and change the subject. If he did that, there’d be a smaller chance that Yamada would bring something up with Aizawa. He really didn’t want Aizawa to be upset with Izuku for not telling him something that happened so long ago. “Oh, and don’t feel bad about the whole…thing… the other day. At least as far as the students go. Most of us are just worried about you. We don’t want our teachers to be hurt or upset. I can’t speak for everyone else, but you’re like my favorite teacher. Or, well, one of my three favorites. I’m not allowed to pick favorites since Aizawa-sensei and Yagi-sensei got in a fight about it. Mom said I wasn’t allowed to pick and that they just had to live with that. But, you’re definitely tied with them!”

“Well, thank you, Midoriya. That’s nice of you to say. I hope I can live up to that.” Yamada actually seemed equal parts pleased and befuddled.

“You already do,” Izuku said. Maybe he was laying it on thick, but the man could use the pick me up. Besides, it wasn’t a lie. His phone chimed, and Izuku used it as an excuse to get going. “See you tomorrow, Sensei.”

“Bye, Midoriya.”

Chapter Text

Todoroki Shoto did not know what to think of his new classmates. Or his new teachers. They were…strange. Father would never have taught the way that they do. It was too relaxed. Too many breaks. And yet…Shoto seemed to have more energy than he had ever had before. He had asked Aizawa-sensei about it, as casually as he could. Why did they take so many breaks? Aizawa-sensei had raised a brow and told him that students usually complained about a lack of breaks when he taught. And Aizawa-sensei was the one who had nearly died trying to save everyone. All Might wasn’t nearly as pompous as Father made him out to be. Yamada-sensei seemed like he taught so little, and yet Shoto was picking up more English than he ever did from the tutors his father hired.

Speaking of him, it seemed that Yamada-sensei was everywhere these days. He was in Art History with Kayama-sensei. He lounged in Ectoplasm-sensei’s chair while the other man taught. Sometimes he was in home room, eating one of Aizawa’s jelly packets. The first time it happened, Yamada had walked into the room, helped himself, and then sat in Aizawa’s chair with that bright yellow sleeping bag wrapped around his shoulders. The entire class had held their breath, waiting for Aizawa to get after him. But nothing happened. Aizawa ignored the other man, and just focused on teaching. As strange as that was, it wasn’t as strange as how quiet and well-behaved Yamada was. Whatever class he was in, he just quietly paid attention, or worked on his own things. When questioned, all he said was that he needed a change of scenery. Shoto wondered if it had to do with the muzzle incident. He could sympathize. His father had trained him not to panic when faced with things like that. You never knew what a villain would throw at you.

Regardless, it seemed…odd. Yamada-sensei was very…clingy. But then there was that thing Midoriya had said. Ghosts followed the class around, purely because Midoriya was worried about them. Shoto didn’t think normal people would be that inclined to listen to someone (even if that someone was Midoriya), and ghosts? Why would they listen to Midoriya? Unless it was Quirk related. After a few days of debating, Shoto decided to ask about it. He waited until everyone left, except Aizawa-sensei and Midoriya. Well, and Yamada-sensei, who was raiding whatever drawer those jelly-packets were in. He stood next to Midoriya’s desk until the other boy gave him a look. He wasn’t sure what the look meant, so he just asked his questions.

“Midoriya.”

“Yes, Todoroki?”

“I have some theories that I would like confirmed.”

“Theories? Ooh, like about heroes? Wait, no,” Midoriya devolved into mutters.

“You can control ghosts. Yes or no?”

“I mean…I guess? But I really hate doing that. I don’t want to take someone’s choices away.”

Well, that was points toward allyship. Father wanted him to make allies, strong ones. But Shoto had always thought it would be better to get people you work well with. Father also valued time-management, and dealing with publicity from in-fighting seemed like a waste of time.

“Hm. And you somehow didn’t have to command them to follow us all?”

“Oh, for crying out—I only did it because I was worried! I didn’t want someone being taken without anyone noticing!”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I don’t care. I want to know why they listened to you.”

“Um…because I asked them to?”

“But why?”

Midoriya seemed confused by the question, but Shoto wasn’t sure how exactly to rephrase it so he could understand better. 

“Hang on, kiddos,” Yamada-sensei said with a jelly pouch hanging out of the side of his mouth. “I’m just eavesdropping a bit, and I’m wondering why you’re so curious about this, Todoroki. Don’t get me wrong, these are interesting questions, but—“

“I just want to know why someone would listen to a random kid, rather than just ignore him.” Shoto cringed inwardly. He hadn’t meant to interrupt. Father didn’t like it when he did that. Yamada-sensei just smiled.

“Oooooh, that’s what you were wondering,” said Midoriya. Thankfully, he didn’t seem annoyed. “Um, well, most of them haven’t talked to anyone living in a long time, so they think I’m neat. But the ones I had following all of you were, well, my friends. Mostly. Some of them are kind of new friends. They mostly kept their distance until this morning, aside from helping me make sure you guys were all safe.”

“Oh. Why?”

“Uh…” Midoriya shifted awkwardly. Shoto thought it was from awkwardness, at least. He hadn’t seen anyone do that until he came to this school. Was he being too direct? Too…? Hm. He guessed it didn’t really matter. Midoriya would either answer or he wouldn’t. “It’s…kind of a long, hard to explain story?”

“Hm.” Shoto supposed that was an acceptable answer for now. But one day he would find out that story. “So you have twenty ghost friends?”

“Well, it’s more like ten and they have other ghost friends. I met them all first, though. I didn’t want someone to end up being haunted.”

Shoto frowned.

“Wasn’t Mineta asking you to do an exorcism earlier?”

“He brought that on himself.” Shoto nearly took a step back at the intensely dark look Midoriya sported.

“How?” Aizawa-sensei asked. The man leaned against the board he had just finished erasing. Shoto giggled silently. Eraserhead. Erased a board.

“He knows what he did,” Midoriya said vaguely. “And if he does it again, I told him you’d be…having words with him.”

And wasn’t that ominous, especially coming from someone who seemed like sunshine incarnate. Aizawa raised a brow. The man seemed fond of that action.

“Oh, come on, Midoriya!” Yamada-sensei all but bellowed. “You can’t leave me hanging like that! What did he do? If it’s something that needs corrective action at school, it’s better to make sure we’re aware of it.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” said Aizawa-sensei.

“Look, I got all of my knowledge on it second-hand, so—“

“Don’t try to pull that crap. We both know your second-hand accounts are reliable.” Aizawa-sensei sighed. “If you want to wait for the ride home, that’s fine, but I am a pro hero and your teacher, and as such I will be the one deciding what needs to happen, or even if anything needs to happen.”

“Fiiiiine.”

Shoto looked back and forth between the two of them. They acted so much like families he had seen on TV. Granted, he was limited to about four hours of TV per month, so he hadn’t seen a lot. But the way they interacted was so much different to how the rest of the class did. This was further proven by Aizawa’s next statement.

“You know, problem child, if you were any other student, I would have expelled you for the attitude you show me.”

“Am I your favorite?” Midoriya gasped. Shoto couldn’t tell if that had been meant sarcastically or not. Midoriya could be sarcastic when he wanted to, but he also seemed very genuine most of the time. Aizawa’s expression seemed confused as well.

“Um…that was all of my questions. I’ll go now.”

“Okey-dokey, Todoroki!” Yamada-sensei exclaimed.

Shoto took his leave, a cold chill taking over his left side. Had it been his whole body, he might have turned around and demanded Midoriya tell him if a ghost was following him. But it was just his left side, so…par for the course. He had been getting consistently colder over the last few months. Which was good. Father wasn’t happy with his little icy rebellion. Shoto shivered once more as it felt like eyes were watching him. Maybe he should ask Midoriya about it after all. Except he was already to the car waiting to take him home. Tomorrow, then.

Chapter Text

“That was…interesting,” said Hizashi. Izuku nodded. “I don’t think I’ve heard Todoroki speak for that long…ever.” 

Shouta’s gaze hadn’t left the door.

“Izuku, tell Oboro to follow him. All the way. Do some snooping.”

“Why? You think there’s something wrong?” Izuku’s brows furrowed.

“Call it a hunch. And when he gets the information, I want you to charge his hand so that he can write it out. He shouldn’t tell you or anyone else about this.”

“What?!”

“Part of being a hero is knowing when and when not to question things. Sometimes, you have to survive without information, especially when it doesn’t involve you.”

“But—“

Shouta gave the boy a look.

“If it were the other way around, would you want your classmate looking into your situation, or a pro hero who already knows how to keep their mouth shut?”

“I can keep my mouth shut,” Izuku muttered.

“Izuku, the only people you talked to before UA were your handlers and your mother. You’ve never actually kept a secret in your life, because the only people that might have believed what you had to say were the people helping you keep it secret. I honestly don’t know how you got through elementary and middle school without blabbing.”

“I tried when I was six. Everyone thought I was Quirkless, though, so…well, they thought I was just trying to make trouble.”

“Is that when they started bullying you?” Hizashi asked, and Shouta frowned. He hoped not. He also wanted to slap Hizashi in the back of the head for just outright asking that. Izuku surprised him by actually answering.

“Mm…no. That started back when they first found out I was Quirkless. But the really intense stuff didn’t start till later.”

“Ah. I see.” Hizashi seemed perfectly casual, as if talking about the weather and not about the past trauma of a student. Izuku seemed like he wasn’t even really thinking about what he was saying. Perhaps it was all right. While Izuku muttered to himself, Hizashi sent him a look that asked if he was hearing this. He nodded.

“Well, kid, let’s get going.”

On the ride home, Izuku was uncharacteristically quiet. Street after street passed, and he didn’t say a thing. They had to come to a screeching halt when a villain suddenly attacked. Heroes swooped in and took care of the issue, and Izuku still didn’t say a thing.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Shouta asked while the heroes’ clean-up teams cleared debris. Izuku was quiet for a moment longer before he answered.

“Todoroki. You want me to have Oboro keep an eye on him.” Izuku looked up. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while. There’s just something…off, I guess. Sometimes, the way he acts is…I don’t know how to describe it. And his emotions…”

“What about them?” Shouta asked when Izuku didn’t go on.

“They’re subdued, like yours, but even more. It’s almost like he’s suppressing them. I’ve only met one other person who could do that, and it’s Madam President. But I could still feel hers. It was like…if someone’s under a blanket, you can still see their form. Not their clothes, and depending on how they’re laying, you might not see both feet or their hands. But you can still feel them. Sometimes, Todoroki is like that - like Madam President - but then sometimes it’s like he’s buried under so many blankets that you can’t tell anyone is there.”

“Hm.”

“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal until today. Today, when he was talking to me, it was like…if I continue the analogy, he was just under one blanket. Maybe even peeking his head out from under it. But then, as soon as he decided to leave, it all just…disappeared.”

“...Keep me updated on that, would you?” At the sight of Izuku pouting at the window, Shouta rolled his eyes. “Look, I know you’re not happy that I asked you to stay out of this, but I have something more important for you.”

At that, Izuku perked up.

“I need you to try and be his friend. I don’t know what he’s like outside of my class, but you’re the first person he has made an effort to talk to. If I’m going to look into his situation, and something is wrong, he needs someone to trust in his corner. If I could be that person, I would and I will. But if he finds out that someone is snooping around in his business, he probably won’t like it.”

“I can do that!”

“And do you think you can actually keep this conversation a secret?”

“Yes!” Then, less enthusiastically, “Probably. I mean, if Mom or Keigo asks…I’ll probably tell them. I don’t know why they would ask, though.”

Shouta sighed. At least the kid’s guardians could be trusted with sensitive information.

“Fine. But only if they ask. This is good practice for the future.”

“Yes, sensei!”

“Actually, speaking of secrets…how has One for All been treating you?”

“Fine, but I haven’t actually used it yet. The other holders said they would help. All Might is going to train with me later tonight before dinner.”

—––––––

Izuku showed up to school with his arms in casts. Shouta had crawled out of his lovely, warm sleeping bag, ready to start class, only to notice the bright white plaster. He pinched the bridge of his nose. He seemed to be doing that a lot recently.

“Before you ask, sensei, it’s not Yagi-san’s fault, and I already visited Recovery Girl. I should be fine in the next two days.”

“Who’s Yagi?” Someone whispered.

“Do I even want to know?”

“Training accident.” Shouta leveled a look at his student. “Just a power distribution problem.”

“Power distribution?” Kirishima asked, turning in his seat. “Midoriya, I thought your power was ghost stuff. Why would that break your arm?”

“Uh, well…” Izuku seemed like he was floundering. Come on, kid, Shouta thought, remember the excuse we came up with. “A few days ago, I discovered a secondary trait to my Quirk, and I was trying to train it, and it…backfired. Horribly. But I have a tutor, Yagi-san, and a few ghosts that have experience with this kind of thing. I’ll be fine and ready to fight by the sports festival.”

Well, that wasn’t the worst delivery. Shouta was definitely going to talk to Yagi about that tonight. The class moved on - aside from Bakugo, who turned around in his seat to stare at Izuku - and Shouta decided they could have a free period while he went back to sleeping. Patrol last night had been killer, and he was nursing a sprained wrist (hidden expertly in his sleeve) as well as several bruised ribs. As long as no one tried to kill each other, he would let them do what they wanted.

Chapter Text

Inko’s heels clacked down the hall of Tartarus. The secure prison had so many hallways, and they twisted and turned like a child had made the floor plan. Maybe one did, in order to make it harder to understand from the outside. Or to get out from the inside. And speaking of getting out, her…client…hadn’t tried a thing. None of them had. After being captured by the authorities, all of the main villains that had attacked the USJ were being held in the highest security cells they had access to. Inko had finally gotten permission to visit in person. She had been allowed pre-recorded videos until now.

“Hello, Shigaraki,” she said pleasantly as she stood behind glass. The young man was held in a straight jacket, and strapped to an upright table of sorts. Tubes connected to him that were probably full of Quirk suppressants. He smiled, rasping a greeting.

“Hello, Midoriya. My jailers tell me that you’re called the People Fixer. I didn’t think I’d see you so soon.”

“Oh? Well, I thought it prudent that I meet with you.”

“How nice.” Shigaraki’s grin turned a bit predatory. “Perhaps you could help me.”

“Perhaps, but not in the way you’re thinking,” Inko grinned back. Shigaraki’s smile disappeared. She knew he wasn’t in his right mind - anyone who would attack All Might in a school full of heroes wasn’t - but she had a suspicion. At first, when the HPSC had asked her to evaluate him, the young man seemed threatening. Scary, even. But there had been something in his eyes. A fear, so deep that he couldn’t hide it. She had seen a glimpse of the same thing from the Kurogiri character. After that, she knew she had to get an audience. “Besides, this will at least give you something to do while you sit in here.”

“And what do you think you could entertain me with?” Shigaraki asked. Inko laughed inwardly. He was putting on an act. Whoever he was acting as, it was someone much more confident than himself. Almost like a child imitating their parent…

“Firstly, I’d like to know when your boss acquired you. It’ll give me a baseline for where to start.”

“Who cares?” Shigaraki’s voice wavered, just a little, on the second word.

“I care. How old were you? Seven? Eight?”

The young man muttered something that the microphones couldn’t pick up. Inko said nothing. Agent Namura usually tailed her to these things, and sure enough, she felt a cold sensation go through her right hand five times. They had a system worked out. Yes and no through the left and right shoulders, numbers on the right hand, and a few simple words corresponding to each of her fingers. Anything more complex required either a long game of yes-or-no, or Izuku.

“You were definitely young,” said Inko, thinking of what a five-year-old Shigaraki would have been like.

“And how would you know? How do you know the world didn’t just fail me, time and again, and I joined the League in a fit of disillusionment?”

“Because people like that are bitter,” Inko replied kindly. She let a soft smile grace her features, one she wasn’t sure she should. “You’re not bitter. Bitter people know there’s better things, things that they should have had. Maybe even things that they used to have.”

“Ha! So if I’m not bitter, then what am I? Some sort of NPC for you to play all the dialogue options with?”

“No. You’re a person. A dangerous, probably deranged person, but a person nonetheless. I’m sure you won’t answer this, but…did the world fail you?”

Shigaraki scoffed.

“Very few things in this world help me,” he said in a way that sounded like he was just regurgitating a regularly repeated proverb.

“Again, I know you probably won’t answer, but…” Inko leaned on the window sill. “Do you mind if I ask how? What kinds of things helped you or failed you?”

“Everything failed me! Society failed me!” Shigaraki shouted, and Inko had a feeling he was right. “I killed my family with my own Quirk, and not one person tried to help!”

“You killed your family?” Inko kept her face neutral, the same way she would have when Izuku told her things she didn’t want to hear (like ‘Hey, Mom, I broke both of my arms!’). 

“Yes,” Shigaraki smirked, but there was a pause before he continued. “What do you think of that, people fixer?”

“I think people should stop calling me that. I can’t just ‘fix’ someone. And I think that killing your entire family at the ripe age of five is definitely not something that should have slipped through the cracks.”

“How did you know I was five?”

“I didn’t,” Inko lied. “You just confirmed it for me.”

An insistent cold chill ran through Inko’s knee. That wasn’t something they had a code for. She tried to wave it away with her foot, but all that did was move it to her hip. …Agent Namura would not do that. There was only one ghost Inko knew that was only tall enough to reach her hip. And suddenly, she remembered who had been spying on the League since before its creation. Who had been watching over a young man since he was a child.

“Shigaraki, did you have a sister named Hana?”

The restraints could not have kept Shigaraki as still as he made himself. Confusion, recognition, a little fear, and finally anger crossed his features. A chill ran through Inko’s right shoulder. A yes. She shifted back from the glass.

“Why don’t you leave me alone?!” The young man griped. “I’m done talking.”

“All right. I’ll come back soon.”

“Why?” Shigaraki snarled as she paused in the doorway.

“Because any mother deserving of the title would not abandon a child in need.”

“You say that as if you would have helped, but you wouldn’t have!”

“Yes, I would have.” This was starting to sound more and more like a tantrum from a child seeking comfort. Inko looked over her shoulder, letting Shigaraki see the grim, kind look that every mother could give at the most serious of moments. “I wasn’t there then. I am now. Everything will be okay.”

And she left. Whoever Shigaraki’s boss was, whoever had taken him in and made him into villain, the person he simultaneously feared and respected…whoever that was, they had better stay in whatever hole they spawned in. If Midoriya Inko ever got her hands on them, they would regret everything .

Chapter Text

Midoriya was a conundrum. Of course, most people were. But there were varying degrees. Kirishima, for instance, was only a conundrum because Shoto didn’t know why he would fixate so much on manliness. He could be placed on the lower end of the spectrum. Just a regular person, who was a little weird. Iida, Mineta, Ururaka, Tsu, and Tokoyami also fit this category. Most of the class fit there, from what Shoto could tell. Bakugo was around the middle, maybe a little on the side of mysterious. He seemed one-dimensional on the first day of school, but now…He was a straight-forward kind of person like Kirishima, it was just hard to figure out exactly what he was straight-forward about. And Midoriya? Shoto would confidently place Midoriya solidly on the mysterious end of the spectrum. 

There were so many things that didn’t make sense about Midoriya (and Shoto theorized some of those things affected how mysterious Bakugo was). He was kind, and he was sunshiny, but he could also be dark and sarcastic. His Quirk made absolutely no sense. Talking to ghosts? Sure. Allowing the ghosts to interact with the real world? Sure. Those things made sense. Interact, and be interacted with. Tuning into and affecting emotions? Maybe. It could just be that Midoriya was tuning in and affecting someone’s spirit. The amount that he could do was probably directly proportional to how dead someone was. And now some sort of extra power had manifested. Something that made him break bones. Maybe he had tried using a ghost’s Quirk? No. If he had done that, it would still have been the ghost themself using it, like when the ghost had healed Aizawa.

Shoto must have been staring too intently, because Midoriya turned to look at him. He belatedly stuck his nose in his book. Staring was rude, he knew that. Lots of things were rude, and many of those things didn’t make a lot of sense. Being rude to potential allies seemed counterproductive, though, so if he was going to make allies, Shoto needed to not be rude.

“Hey, Todoroki!”

Shoto peeked from behind his book. Yaoyorozu was over helping Tsuyu with homework, so Midoriya sat on her desk, much to Iida’s chagrin.

“Midoriya, that’s not the proper way to sit at a desk!”

“I know, Iida. But if Yaoyorozu wants her chair back, it’s easier to make someone move if they’re on the desk instead of on the chair.”

“And how do you figure that?!”

“It’s because making me move from the desk is just restoring the proper order of things, rather than coming across as rude by making me leave my seat just so she can sit in it. I suppose it doesn’t really matter, but social anxiety is a thing, you know.” Midoriya turned to Shoto. “So, Todoroki, are you ready for the sports festival?”

“Yes.” Shoto wasn’t sure why Midoriya was talking to him.

“I’m glad to hear that. I’m…well, not ready…” Midoriya halfway gestured with his broken arms. “Obviously. I mean, my arms are pretty broken right now. But I’m going to work extra hard to be ready for the festival!”

The other boy kept the conversation going for a while, with only a few nods or ‘yes’es from Shoto. It…wasn’t bad. He kind of liked it. Not that he would say that. Father expected his whole focus to be on the sports festival. 

Later, after school, Shoto found Midoriya by himself in the cafeteria. The other boy was doing homework in a single, worn notebook.

“No, that wouldn’t make sense,” he muttered.

“Midoriya.”

Midoriya looked up.

“Oh, hi, Todoroki.”

“Have you ever heard of Quirk marriages?” Shoto found himself saying. When he had come here, he had not planned on that.

“Um, yeah. They’re illegal or something now, right? But they used to be commonplace.”

“Yes. I’m the product of one. My father bought my mother, and I am supposed to be his perfect weapon.”

“O-kay,” Midoriya dragged out the word.

“That’s why I’m going to beat you, using only my mother’s Quirk. Only my right side.” Once again, not what he had intended to come out of his mouth. He was going to be terrible at press releases, wasn’t he?

“Why?” Midoriya tilted his head like a confused puppy.

“Wh…what do you mean ‘why’?”

“Well, why would you only use half of your Quirk? It’s not actually your mom’s or your dad’s, it’s yours. It seems silly to limit yourself because of something like that. If it was to get stronger with a certain aspect of your Quirk, then sure, I’d say go for it. But spiting your dad by not using flames isn’t as good as making them yours. I mean, you’ve got a few years before graduation, right? So master them faster than he ever could, then make your shadow so big that he could never hope to come out of it. Make people stop calling you Endeavor’s kid, and start calling him Todoroki’s father. Or whatever your hero name will be. Your hero name’s father.”

And, good heavens, wasn’t that a speech. Shoto suddenly had a lot to think about on the ride home.

“Now, here, take a seat. I know you make theories, and I know they’re more about the people around you than heroes, but Sensei is a hero and you know him, and I want to figure out why his hair floats.”

“That’s not…homework?” Shoto asked numbly.

“No, I finished that during lunch. Now, I’m updating my hero journal.”

“Hm.”

Chapter Text

The last thing Shouta expected today was Todoroki marching into the classroom with a scowl that could only be described as nervous. The teacher had been about to find Izuku to take him home. Instead, Todoroki stood in front of his desk. His eyes could have glared a hole in him.

“Sensei.”

“Yes.”

“I would like extra tutoring with my fire side. Is there any time you might be available?”

Wow, that was not on his yearly bingo card. Todoroki had been pointedly not using his fire in any training. The boy had even gone so far as to cover his entire body in ice. Actually, speaking of that, Todoroki was shivering. Quite a lot. A moment ago, he had thought it was from nerves, but now…the boy’s breath was starting to fog in the air. He wondered how nervous Todoroki really was.

“I’ll be holding extra instruction hours after school starting tomorrow and ending the day before the sports festival.”

“Oh. N-nevermind, then.” Crap. If the kid was trying to open up, even a little bit, Shouta needed to push a little.

“Is there a reason you don’t want the extra help, even though you came here to ask for it?”

“No…I just…” Todoroki bit his lip, as if debating something. “I don’t want to be my father.”

“Fair enough. Not everyone wants to be like their parents.”

“No, that’s not…I didn’t mean…I didn’t want to be like him, so I haven’t used my fire in almost a year. Not truly. I d-don’t want-t t-to…it w-would-d b-be d-disgraced-ful t-to n-not h-av-ve c-control—“ Todoroki’s teeth chattered as ice crept along his jaw. “A-and M-Midoriya s-said-d…w-well, h-he tr-trusts you, a-and y-you always d-do y-your b-best t-to h-help—“

“Kid, I’m going to stop you there.” Shouta took the boy by the shoulder (and pretended to ignore the almost flinch) and guided him to the door. He flared his Quirk for good measure. “I’ll help you. But first, we’re going to Recovery Girl.”

“W-why? I’m n-not h-hurt.”

“Kid, you’re freezing, and you of all people should not be shivering. We’ll talk details while she looks you over.”

“…okay.”

Todoroki followed Shouta, silently, but still shivering the entire way. Upon entering the infirmary, Chiyo tutted at the both of them

“Aizawa, just how many times are you and your students going to end up in my infirmary?” Todoroki took a seat on the bed where she gestured. “This is what, the fifth time this semester?”

“If I could keep them out, I would.”

“Take your shirt off, dear,” Chiyo told Todoroki, barely glancing at him. “You and All Might. I’m sure you noticed the little thing this morning!”

“Yes, I did,” Shouta replied, with a pointed look at Todoroki. Chiyo rolled her eyes. She, of course, knew how to talk about secrets without actually divulging them. Shouta raised a brow at the kid. “Hey, kid, she said shirt off.”

“No, thank you. I’m fine, really. I just got nervous and forgot to regulate.”

“You have to think about that?” Chiyo frowned. “The nature of your Quirk would make me think that wouldn’t be an issue. If it is, we’re going to need to work with the support course to get you some every day support items.”

“Todoroki,” Shouta layered sternness into his tone.

“Really, Sensei, I’m fine.”

“No, I don’t think you are. My students - Midoriya temporarily excluded - do not currently have severe Quirk issues. And you’ve mentioned training several times, so you should have even less Quirk accidents than anyone else. So, shirt off . I’ll leave the room if you want, but you need to cooperate with Recovery Girl.”

The boy started a staring contest that he absolutely was not going to win. Even if Shouta’s Quirk hadn’t required prolonged eye contact, Todoroki looked away first. Surprisingly easily for how stubborn he could be.

“I don’t want to,” he murmured. Never mind, he was still being stubborn.

“Why not?” Recovery Girl asked. It was a casual enough delivery of a potentially triggering question. Todoroki didn’t say anything.

“I’ll let you have some privacy,” said Shouta. Chiyo could update him later. To both of their surprise, Todoroki grabbed his arm.

“No,” he said, while quickly retracting his grip. “Uh, n-no. I…you can stay, but…if there’s…can this not reach my father? Please? He already knows, and I don’t want to remind him.”

“As long as it’s not a danger to you, yes. But if your father requests the records, we can’t stop him,” Chiyo provided. The school’s policy was to only actively inform for things that required extra work to heal. UA was a hero school after all. If they had to email the parents for every little scrape, the infirmary would never have any time for new patients.

“That’s…that’s fine.” Todoroki grabbed the hem of his shirt, but before he did anything, he added, “it’s not as bad as it looks.”

Shouta and Chiyo both had to clench their jaws to keep from exclaiming something counterproductive. Todoroki’s entire right side was reddish purple, like the beginnings of frostbite, stretching from his shoulder to mid-bicep, and down to the bottom of his ribs. His left side…it wasn’t the most extreme case of frostbite Shouta had ever seen, but it wasn’t good, either. Luckily, there were no patches of black anywhere. Just extremely pale, frozen looking skin reaching out from the right to the left. It would be painful to heal, and probably blister once they warmed him up, but he would be all right.

“That’s…not good, dearie.”

“It’s really not as bad as it looks. I can still fight, and do everything. I’ve just been using my ice a lot more for the last few months.”

“Your ice shouldn’t be causing this, dear. Your body is made to be—“

“Perfect, I know.” Todoroki looked at his hands. “Ice to temper the fire.”

“And fire to temper the ice,” Shouta added. Todoroki looked away, a little guiltily.

“Midoriya said that, too.”

“…You said that your father knew about this. Why hasn’t he gotten it treated?”

“Because I haven’t been using my fire. He said there’s a doctor ready for when I stop acting like a child. But I haven’t. I…”

“You are a child,” Shouta said. “And he shouldn’t be holding that against you.”

“Please don’t say anything to him! I’m fine.”

“Recovery Girl, please start treating him. Todoroki…I’m going to make a few calls. Don’t get upset, I’ll tell your father as little as possible. And in the meantime, you’re staying here.”

Todoroki…did nothing. There was no outburst, no whining.

“You okay, kid?”

“I’m processing.”

“Let me know when you’re done.”

Shouta commandeered Chiyo’s office while she worked. And he set to work. First, a call to Nezu. The stoat seemed equal parts happy and disappointed in what he had to say.

“I had hoped his time at UA had mellowed him a bit. Even back then he was obsessed with power. Not unlike young Bakugo, but luckily Bakugo seems to be making actual progress.”

“That’s probably Izuku’s doing.”

“Hm, yes. Now tell me, why did Todoroki come to you with this?”

“He didn’t, technically. He came to talk to me, and I took him to Recovery Girl because he was shivering so violently.”

“So he wasn’t about to tell you everything?”

“No. Apparently, he came to me to request extra Quirk practice because Midoriya trusts me.”

“It’s probably more than that, Aizawa-kun. You always were too modest.”

“Sure.”

“You’ve already helped save those kids once this year.”

“Look, do I need to do anything for this or not?”

“No. I’ve already let Detective Tsukauchi know. I should have a restraining order and a temporary foster ready by the end of the day.”

“Hold off on the foster family. I’ve got an idea.”

“You’re not planning on fostering him yourself, are you?”

“No,” Shouta lied. Well, half lied. He had considered it, but if he took the boy in, then he wouldn’t be allowed on the case. “I need to make one other call, but I can almost guarantee the answer will be yes.”

“Very well. Give Inko my regards.”

The next call was, indeed, to Inko.

“Ah, Shouta-kun. I was about to call. Are you two all right? You’ve usually dropped Izuku off by now.”

“We’re all right. I have a question for you.”

“Oh. What is it?”

“How would you feel about fostering the son of the number two hero?”

“The one that’s in Izuku’s class? That would be fine. The rooming situation may need to change.”

“Whatever you have to do. This would be temporary anyway.”

“That’s what I thought when Keigo moved in. Don’t get me wrong, I love having him, but it’s not very temporary.”

“He hasn’t told you?”

“Told me what?” 

Last week, the number three hero had mentioned he would be moving to Shouta. Izuku had been in the bathroom while the adults chatted. Apparently, an older woman two doors down had decided to move in with her son, and Hawks was taking the apartment.

“I think you should talk to him.” Shouta hung up to the sound of Inko asking the hero what he was hiding from her. Now all that was left was informing Endeavor. The man himself didn’t even pick up. Shouta had to argue with a secretary for ten minutes before he got the other hero on the line.

“This isn’t an official hero-to-hero call, so this better be good.” Well, how was that for a greeting? Guy was a prick.

“A hello would be more than appropriate, Endeavor.” 

“I’m busy. What do you want?”

“I’m calling to inform you that you are currently under investigation, and your son will be removed from your custody while the investigation proceeds. In the interest of keeping your son out of the public eye, this will be handled discreetly. It’s in your best interest to cooperate.”

“WHAT?!” Shouta had to pull the phone away from his ear at that. “What makes you think you can take my son from me? You have no right—“

“ You had no right,” Shouta interrupted, “to let prolonged frostbite happen with no medical assistance. How Todoroki managed to hide this from his classmates despite sharing a locker room with them, I don’t know. But what I do know is that this didn’t happen by accident.”

“And why do you think I knew about this?!”

Making the executive decision to protect Todoroki with his life, Shouta answered, “Because a parent would notice if their child had third degree frostbite over half of his chest.”

“You didn’t notice until today!”

“There’s a difference between us, Endeavor. I’m his teacher. I am mainly responsible for twenty students, and partially responsible for a hundred more. It might take me a while to notice something, but, unlike you, I do something about it.”

“You’re not getting away with this,” Endeavor seethed.

“You’re right. I won’t. But Nezu will. You remember our principal.” An indeterminate growl rattled through the phone speaker. “You had better cooperate, because if you don’t, you’ll end up dealing with something worse than just Nezu.”

“What could be worse than that?” The man muttered. It was rhetorical, but Shouta answered anyway.

“The combined might of Nezu…and the HPSC’s people fixer.”

“You don’t mean…”

“Midoriya Inko.”

“The one that’s been assigned the Shigaraki case.”

“Yes.”

“…I’ll cooperate,” Endeavor ground out.

“I don’t care.”

He hung up. With that taken care of, he rejoined the medical festivities, which Izuku had joined at some point.

—————

“Hi, Aizawa!” Midoriya exclaimed. “You were taking a really long time so I decided to come here to get my arms taken care of.”

“I told you, young man, your stamina will be too depleted for another healing session until tomorrow!”

“But I’m not even tired or anything right now!”

“Izuku, quit it.”

“Yes, sensei.”

Shoto had barely moved since his teacher had left, but he was now covered in bandages. No damaged skin could be seen, thankfully. He didn’t want a string of Midoriya-Questions.

“All right, here’s what’s going to happen.” Aizawa-sensei made sure he had both boys’ attention. “Todoroki’s riding with us. Todoroki, is there anything from your house that you need that can’t be easily replaced?”

Shoto shook his head, thoroughly confused.

“Why’s Todoroki coming home with us? Is it because…uh, nevermind, actually, I won’t ask.” Midoriya addressed the empty air next to him. “I am not!”

“Not what?”

“Nothing. Oboro’s just being a jerk. Ah! Hey! Don’t go through me like that, it’s freezing! Yes you did! Aizawa, tell Oboro to stop it,” Midoriya whined. Shoto half-expected Aizawa to knock him upside the head and tell him to quit whining. Instead, the man sighed deeply, and told this ‘Oboro’ character to stop it.

“Um…Where am I going to stay?”

“You’ll be staying with the Midoriyas.”

“Is that…safe?”

Midoriya laughed while Sensei rolled his eyes.

“Safer than you know. Izuku, go get Mic and meet us at the car.”

“Okay!”

Shoto wondered how the other boy was going to open any doors.

Chapter Text

There were several very strange things about the Midoriya’s apartment. One, there was nowhere to train. Shoto supposed that in a place as small as this, a training room would not fit well. Two, Midoriya seemed quite pleased to eat whatever he wanted and sit wherever he wanted. He must be like Natsuo when Father isn’t home. Three, Mrs. Midoriya (“Call me Inko,” she had said) was happy to see him. She reminded him a bit of Fuyumi. Four, ghosts were apparently such a common thing here, that the temperature was constantly a little chilled. There were blankets on most sitting surfaces. Midoriya even ‘charged’ one of them enough to be seen. The boy conked out immediately after. Inko-san tossed a blanket over her son, tutting at his actions. And lastly, there was a befeathered buffoon lounging on the loveseat.

“Oh, hey there, Todoroki right? Endeavor’s brat.”

“Why is Hawks in your living room?” Shoto asked as politely as he could. Inko-san chuckled.

“Oh, he just likes the company. He just moved into the apartment down the hall. And, Keigo, dear, don’t call our guest a brat. If anyone here warrants that description, it’s you. Maybe Izuku, if he’s being petulant.”

“Ah, I didn’t mean anything by it, mama bird.” Hawks turned to Shoto. “Sorry, I give Zuku a hard time, and he’s the only kid I’ve consistently been around.”

“Except me!” The child ghost exclaimed. Despite it possibly being rude, Shoto stared at her. She stared at him. She seemed extremely young.

“How old are you?”

“I think…twenty two? Twenty three? I don’t know. It’s been a long time since I counted my age.”

“You look like you’re six.”

“I am!” She gleefully informed him. He stared some more, until she turned to Hawks and said, “I like this guy. He has pretty eyes.”

“What about mine?” Hawks smirked.

“Yours are pretty too, but I like the different colors. The blue is so pretty! And it goes so well with the other one!”

“…thanks.”

His chest ached. Recovery Girl had done what she could, but it would apparently take several days, if not a couple weeks, and using his fire side in order to heal. He probably wouldn’t be allowed to participate in the sports festival. Shoto looked around, wondering if he should take a seat or not. There didn’t seem to be any rules against it, but he didn’t want to get in trouble on his first day here. That was a weird thought. There were so many weird thoughts. He would be here for multiple days. Hawks was on a first name basis with a classmate and his mother. His teacher was out getting him day-to-day items. And he was talking to a ghost.

“Todoroki, dear, I’m sure you’ve had a long day. Why don’t we get you set up in your room, and I’ll call you when dinner’s ready?”

“…okay.”

The room was small, but cozy. There were All Might sheets under an All Might comforter on the bed, and a small desk and a bookshelf off to the side.

“I know you’re probably a little old for All Might sheets, but my plain ones have been in the bottom of the closet for so long, and I’d like to wash them before you use them.”

“No, that’s okay.” Shoto gave her a small smile. He actually quite liked All Might. The few times he had met the man as a child, he was always extremely nice. And even now, he was one of the nicest teachers, if a bit loud. “I like it.”

“Oh, well, all right then. There’s paper and pencils in the desk, if you want to write or draw. If not, you can take a nap, or come help with dinner, or…whatever you feel like, really.”

“Isn’t that inefficient?” Shoto asked. If everyone just did whatever they wanted, nothing would get done.

“…Efficiency isn’t really something we’re concerned about in our home. At work or at school, sure, but here? You can just relax.”

“What about training? Where do we do that?”

“Usually at school, or there’s a beach that Yagi and Izuku go to, or Aizawa-kun can take you to a dojo if you’d like.”

“You don’t train Midoriya?”

“Not really. I’ve never had a need to.” Shoto got the feeling she wasn’t telling him something, but he didn’t want to be rude to such a nice host. “Seriously, Todoroki, you can do pretty much whatever you want, as long as you get permission for —“

“You can call me Shoto,” he said. And winced. This was the second time this week he had interrupted somebody. If Father knew, he would have doubled training for the day. Inko-san didn’t seem to mind.

“Shoto, then. You don’t have to do much. Just help with housework when it’s needed, and be polite to guests.” She said that as if he wasn’t a guest.

“How do I know what I need to ask permission for?” It was a logical question. At home, the answer was ‘everything.’

“Why don’t I have Izuku make you a list when he wakes up? And you can make it with him, so if you have any more questions you can have the answers in writing. I’m sure he’d enjoy spending time with you.”

“That…sounds like a lot of work for just me.”

“Oh, trust me, he won’t mind, and he’ll think of things neither of us would have thought to ask about. We have a list of rules for the ghosts listed on top of the fridge,” she added, as if that was normal. Then again, Shoto probably wasn’t the best judge of normal. He laid on the brightly colored bed. Maybe this was normal. Did normal people have ghost rules?

A moment later, someone knocked on the open door, and Shoto realized he had drifted off. Hawks stood in the doorway, not a feather in sight. The wings had been there when the man had laid on the couch. They had been stretched out, one straight up in the air, and the other over the coffee table.

“Where are your wings?” Maybe it wasn’t the most tactful question, but he wanted to know.

“Did you notice the giant tomato pillow when you came in?”

He nodded. Shoto had thought it looked more like a strawberry. 

“It’s actually a giant pin cushion.”

“Oh.” Shoto was more than capable of putting two and two together. “Did you need something?”

“Not really…I was just wondering what you’re doing here. Inko said it was a sleepover, but Eraserhead wouldn’t be getting you supplies if that were the case.”

“It’s not really your business,” Shoto said. He didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t like his dad, but Endeavor was still his father. And Shoto was fairly sure Hawks looked up to his father. He didn’t want to be the one responsible for ruining that.

“I know,” Hawks said after a minute. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “From context clues, I’ve gathered that it’s probably about your dad. It’s…I'm definitely having trouble thinking about it. They say never meet your heroes, but I didn’t think Endeavor was bad. A hothead, and terse, sure, but not bad.”

“It must be hard to find out someone you look up to isn’t who you thought.” Shoto didn’t know if that was the right thing to say, but Hawks smiled. 

“You’re a smart kid.”

Neither said anything for a moment.

“Eraser mentioned something about you needing bandages changed, so if you need help, let me know. Or let Izuku know. He’s pretty good at bandaging.”

“Because his Quirk hurts him,” Shoto nodded his understanding.

“No, actually. Because he was bullied. I won’t go into details, but he knows a thing or two about dressing wounds and the like.”

“Hm.” Shoto did not want the hero or Midoriya doing any of that. Maybe Aizawa, because Sensei had already seen the worst of it. 

Dinner was an awkward affair. Shoto knew he was probably the cause of it. And Midoriya kept looking over Shotos’ shoulder, like there was something behind him. He would ask, but, in order to do that, he would have to interrupt the quiet conversation that Aizawa-sensei and Inko-san were having. Something about teaching.

“Look, all I’m saying is that, clearly, they’re trying too hard. They should take a step back, and just rest for a moment, and then everything will come together.”

“Inko, if I stop pushing them now, they’re going to go insane. The third years are almost fully fledged heroes. None of us like not having anything to do. Granted, they would still be at their internships most of the time, but when they’re at school, they’re used to working—“

“Todoroki, do you know a woman with white hair and gray eyes?” Midoriya interrupted. The other conversation stopped. Shoto was silently glad that he had to start the conversation.

“Uh…my mother? And my sister, if you don’t count the red at the tips.”

“Huh. Okay.” Midoriya went back to eating his food.

“Why do you ask?”

“There’s a ghost following you. I’ve been trying to talk to her all night, but she keeps hiding when I try to talk to her.”

“Oh.” How very interesting. Was Shoto being haunted? He had thought the only thing that would haunt him would be training. A chill ran over him, on his left side. He shivered, and Aizawa raised a brow at him.

“Are you done eating, Todoroki?” 

Shoto nodded. Whether that chill was Quirk related or ghost related, it had killed what little was left of his appetite.

“Alright then. Bandages. Who do you want to help?”

“I can do them, it’s really no trouble.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Aizawa replied in a bored manner. He slouched back in his seat, phone in hand. “Someone needs to help you. Recovery Girl’s orders. We need to keep an eye on the frostbite. You should take a shower as well.”

“Really, Aizawa-sensei. I can do it myself. I’ll even tell Recovery Girl how it’s going in the morning.”

Aizawa sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Todoroki, I’m sorry, but you hid this for so long. And well. You’ll have to forgive us if we can’t trust you to give us an accurate account of your injuries.”

“It’s not even an injury! I just have a few blisters. They’ll be gone in a few days.”

“Uh, Todoroki?” Midoriya started to get up, but Shoto ignored him. Rude? Maybe, but he really didn’t want to talk about any of this. 

“Please leave me alone.” Shoto went to the guest room, and plopped onto the bed. He immediately regretted it when he felt a forming blister pop. That wasn’t good. Recovery Girl had said not to pop them. He turned onto his back with a grimace. He wanted to go home, where everything made sense. He wanted Fuyumi. She always helped with the blisters and the burns and the frost. She was probably the only reason the frostbite hadn’t progressed as far as it could have. She had been drawing the frost away as best she could.

Midoriya knocked on the half closed door. What was with these people and knocking? The door was open, they could come in. There was nothing stopping them. And these bedrooms didn’t even lock from what Shoto could tell. 

“Todoroki, I can help, if you want. I won’t ask anything if you don’t want me to.”

“Go away, Midoriya. Sensei probably just sent you in here to fix my attitude.”

“No, he actually wants to talk to you, but he also doesn’t want to push you to do something you don’t want to.”

“That doesn’t sound like him.”

Midoriya laughed, and took a seat at the desk.

“He, uh, he isn’t just a teacher, you know. He’s a person. With class, he can push us. He can make us do things we don’t want to, or think we can’t do. Personal lives are…different.”

“But why would he even care? Why do you?” Shoto didn’t understand these people. They were kind, and caring, for no reason! He had made it this far in life by himself. He didn’t need anyone now.

“We care about you, Todoroki.”

“But why?” Shoto sat up. 

“Because…” Midoriya took a deep breath and let it out, brows furrowed. Shoto waited a moment, then shook his head.

“See? You can’t even tell me.”

“Well, it’s not that easy, Todoroki! I don’t know why I care, I just do! Don’t you care about anyone like that?”

Did he? Shoto wasn’t sure. Fuyumi, maybe. But he cared about her because she was sweet, and nice, and took care of him. He cared about Natsuo for similar reasons. Maybe he had cared about Touya like that, but if he had, he couldn’t remember. Mom…maybe he did care about someone for no reason. In her case, it was more like ‘in spite of reasons’. 

“Maybe you should ask Aizawa. He’s better at teaching people, so maybe he’d be better at explaining this than I am.”

“Fine.” 

That’s what he did. Shoto sat on the side of the tub while Aizawa took care of his bandages and he asked his question.

“Why does it matter to you?” Was the response he got.

“It doesn’t make any sense. None of you know me that well. And even if you did…” Shoto sighed. “It’s not like I do anything for you. I’m not your personal project. You don’t get any glory out of this. And you’re not my sister.”

“No, I’m not your sister. But what makes you think I have to be in order to care about you?”

“You don’t, she’s just the person I thought of as I was talking.”

Aizawa applied some sort of salve to one of the popped blisters and continued bandaging.

“I suppose the answer you want is this: I care about you because you are hard working, resourceful, and my student.” That answer at least made sense. “But the real answer is because you are a child, and you deserve to be cared for. Usually, I leave that for the parents to do. Unfortunately, your father is lacking in that respect.”

Shoto gaped at his teacher. He had never heard someone so casually say that his father was ‘lacking’ anything. A small smirk twitched at the corners of Aizawa’s mouth.

“You didn’t think he was actually perfect, did you?”

“…I never thought to question it.”

“Hm.” Aizawa-sensei finished with the bandages. “There. All done. Getting help isn’t so bad, is it?”

Shoto wasn’t sure if that was a rhetorical question or not, so he stayed quiet.

“All right. If you need anything, Inko can help you. Or Hawks, he’ll be just down the hall.”

“Why am I here?” The question didn’t seem to phase Aizawa-sensei in the least. The man merely stood and began putting away the medical supplies.

“You’re here because you need help.”

“No, I get that. Why here specifically? Why not with one of the other teachers, or my brother?”

“Isn’t your brother barely in college?”

“Yes.”

“…I’m sure you can understand why that wasn’t our first choice.”

“Okay. Fine. So why the Midoriyas’ and not somewhere else? Why not with you?”

Sensei shrugged.

“Because he’s the only one you seem to be friends with. And I trust his family. I know them better than I know the other parents, and it’s better if I keep you somewhere that I know is safe. Once the investigation is concluded, that may change, but for the time being, here is where you’re safest.”

“I still don’t understand.”

“You don’t have to. I’ll leave it up to Inko what she does or doesn’t tell you. All you need to know is that you are safe here.”

“Why not with you?” Shoto had to admit, if he stayed with anyone, Aizawa would probably be his first choice after his sister and brother.

“So I can stay on your case. If you stayed with me, I wouldn’t be allowed near it.”

“I want to ask why, but I think I know the answer.”

To Shoto’s surprise, Aizawa laughed. He ruffled the boy’s hair as he left.

“You’re a smart kid, Todoroki. You’re going to be a great hero someday.”

If that put a smile on Shoto’s face, no one but his new toothbrush needed to know.

Chapter Text

The sports festival came way too quickly. Izuku still couldn’t use One for All without injuring himself greatly. It was getting better, just hairline fractures in a few fingers instead of shattering his entire arm, but still. He was going to try to avoid using it until the very last rounds of the festival. On the brightside, his original Quirk was also getting stronger. He could keep his ghostly friends charged for a while now. He couldn’t keep them visible or completely tangible for long still, but they could write for an hour or so with no problem. Visibility could last for half an hour, and full tangibility for ten consecutive minutes. Oboro, Hana, Nana, and Namura had volunteered to help him.

Somewhat surprisingly, Todoroki was allowed to participate. Izuku had glimpsed the blisters and lingering frostbite on the other boy a few days ago. Sharing a bathroom made it a bit hard to hide absolutely everything. Before the other boy had come to live with them, Todoroki had been able to hide the frostbite by changing in the bathrooms, or changing quickly while facing away from his classmates. Izuku had thought they would keep him from participating.

Another surprising thing was how social Todoroki had become. Well, at home, anyway. He was still quiet, but he joined in on game night, and he watched movies with them as well. It was nice. The emotions that had been so wholly buried before were easy to sense now. Heck, Todoroki even smiled sometimes. Actual, genuine smiles, not the tiny smile he had every once in a while at school. 

Izuku grinned at the other boy as they lined up at the beginning of the course. Todoroki waved back. People jostled them on every side, and Kaachan was spouting something about leaving everyone behind or something. Kaachan even gave Izuku a…smile? It looked like a smile crossed with a sneer. Despite the other people around them, Izuku was able to tune into just Kaachan’s emotions for a moment. Excitement, nervousness, and a hint of pride, but not the kind of pride for himself. Pride in others. It seemed Kaachan was ready to fight his equals.

Yamada-sensei signalled their start, and everyone took off. And then most of them got stuck as the entrance became too crowded. 

“Charge me,” said Nana, holding out her gloved hands. Izuku did as he was told. Instead of making a path for him like he thought she would, she kept hold of his hands. They slowly floated up, right by the wall, which both he and Nana kicked off of. They drifted quickly over the mass of bodies, until they were free to move. Nana dropped him, and Izuku took off running. 

The zero pointers from the entrance exam were up next. Namura and Hana sped ahead, using every ounce of their ghostly abilities to short out the robots. One of them was already covered in ice. Todoroki must have shot ahead earlier. That bot didn’t seem like a problem, until it moved and came tumbling down while Izuku was still halfway under it. The thousands of pounds of metal fell almost in slow motion, while he tried to get out of the way. Vaguely, he heard Nana yelling for him, and Oboro trying to grab him. At the last second, just before the metal touched, Izuku felt a tug at his chest, like when he had fought the Nomu. And suddenly, he was inside the robot. 

“Uh…what…” Oboro gaped at Izuku, whose legs looked like they were halfway missing, and one arm waved through the side of the robot.

“Intangibility,” Izuku shrugged, and then he kept running. There was a lot he didn’t understand about his Quirk, but that was for some other time. He had a competition to win.

The next obstacle had huge drop offs and platforms connected by rope. Or maybe wire. It didn’t matter. Oboro and Nana took hold of Izuku’s arms and floated him across. It wasn’t as fast as Iida, who had shot forward, but it was still pretty fast. Honestly, if he weren’t concerned with trying to win, Izuku would have taken a slower way, just to see if he could make it. The ghosts set him down at the other end. 

And then there was a minefield. This had to be illegal on some level. Then again, if this was illegal, then Kaachan’s Quirk would be illegal. Either way, it didn’t matter. Namura and Hana had floated a chunk of metal over at his request while Izuku dug up some of the mines. When he had enough, he used the metal as a platform and launched himself into the sky.

He may have underestimated how powerful the mines were.

The platform shot forward, and the only ghost that kept up was Oboro, who had grabbed onto Izuku right before the blast. Izuku half-landed, then was sent flying again. He shot passed Iida, passed Todoroki, passed Kaachan! The finish line was coming fast. His grip on the piece of metal came loose after the last blast, and he hurtled toward the finish line. This would hurt. Izuku became vaguely aware that there was a wall on the other side of the line. That was going to hurt even worse. Oboro clung to his back, fingers digging into his shoulders, and in a last ditch effort to soften his landing, Izuku forced as much energy into Oboro as he could. The room behind the finish line puffed full of clouds. It still hurt to hit into it, but it felt like falling into water sideways. His momentum slowed, and the clouds cleared to reveal the wall not five inches in front of his nose. Izuku slumped against it, but he didn’t lose consciousness like he had expected to.

Kaachan hurtled over the line, followed closely by Todoroki and Iida. All of their chests heaved as they tried to catch their breaths.

“Deku. Izuku. What. Was. That?!”

“Hi, Kaachan.” Izuku blinked tiredly. “I think that was Oboro’s Quirk.”

Todoroki sat next to him while they waited for everyone else to cross the line.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, Todoroki. Just tired.”

“Hm.” Todoroki leaned closer and whispered, “I used my fire. I made myself faster.”

“Wow, really? Good job, Todoroki! You’re going to out shine your dad soon.”

“Thanks,” Todoroki smiled.

The boys sat silently until the teachers started herding them toward the rest areas. Kaachan, after sulking and snapping at people for a while, joined them. They sat in companionable silence until a familiar purple-haired student came up to them. A rather disgruntled looking woman followed him, the same one from the last time he saw Shinsou.

“Oh, hi, Shinsou, right?” Izuku waved. Shinsou raised a brow.

“I’m not here to make friends,” he said. Izuku rolled his eyes and pointed at Todoroki.

“He isn’t either. And Kaachan,” Izuku shifted his pointing to his former bully, “also doesn’t want to be friends with me–”

“That’s bull crap!” Kaachan snarled.

“–and yet here we are.”

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to beat the hero students, and I’m going to make it into the hero course. You all think you’re great, just because you all have flashy Quirks. You’ll all see what I can do.”

“You can’t! Stop trying, Hitoshi! You’re a curse and you always will be!” The woman screeched. Izuku ignored her, although he would really like to hit her upside the head. Luckily, Namura and Nana decided to drag her away.

“Whatever, Eyebags,” Kaachan said. “I’ll beat you all.”

“You can try,” Shinsou smirked. Izuku grinned at the boy, who looked confused at his reaction. Todoroki raised a hand, as if this were class and Shinsou was the teacher. When Shinsou didn’t say anything, Todoroki did.

“Just so you’re aware, I highly doubt your proclamation will happen.”

“What, you don’t think I can do it?” Shinsou asked, expression darkening.
“Oh, no, not that part. The courses will determine that. I meant the friendship part.” Todoroki pointed to Izuku. “Midoriya’s friendship is inevitable.”

“There’s no escape!” Izuku added cheerfully. Oboro nodded in agreement, although no one else could see him. Kaachan rolled his eyes, but Izuku could feel the mirth hiding just below his forced pout. Shinsou seemed to take this as a sign to leave, and the other boys went back to resting until the next round.

—–––––

Of course the next round had to be team based. Hitoshi glared at his competitors as he tried to gauge which ones he would be able to control for an extended period of time. No one wanted to be on a team with the mind-reader, so his classmates were out. There was no way he would team up with the hero-course students, unless he could control them–

“Shinsou!” Midoriya jogged up to him, grabbed his wrist, and started pulling. “Come join us! Todoroki and Ururaka are on our team.”

“I don’t need your million points to make me a target,” Hitoshi said tersely.

“Well, okay, but consider this: if the judges see that you can work well with hero course students, they might be more inclined to let you in!”

After a long moment of deliberation, Hitoshi decided to join. It wasn’t exactly what he wanted, but if someone actually wanted him on their team, he supposed that was a good thing. He just wouldn’t tell them his Quirk. No need to make him a target among teammates. No one wanted a villainous Quirk on their side.

“Okay, so, does anyone have any strategies they want to use?” Midoriya asked once they were gathered.

“I can float us!” Ururaka volunteered. Hitoshi thought she was like a female version of Midoriya; she was nice and bubbly. “I can’t do it for long, but I’ll do everything I can!”

“I could make us an ice barricade,” Todoroki offered. From what little Hitoshi had seen of the boy previously, he wasn’t much of a conversationalist. Today, however, he seemed very conversational, and it was throwing Hitoshi off.

“Okay, not a bad idea, but that’ll cut off our sight of everyone else,” said Midoriya, although he was sending a concerned look at the other boy. Then he turned to the side like he was listening to someone who wasn’t there. He signed something, and turned back. Whatever signs he had used were some sort of modified version of what Hitoshi knew.

“Will the ghosts help, Deku?” Ururaka asked. Deku? What the crap kind of nickname was that? 

“Not with that,” Midoriya winced. “But they’ll help in other ways. What about you, Shinsou? Do you have any ideas?”

“What’s your Quirk anyway?” Ururaka asked. Shinsou sighed, and glared.

“It’s none of your business. And I’ll just…go with whatever you guys come up with.”

“Shinsou, they should really know so that we can work together,” said Midoriya. “Besides, I think your Quirk is cool.”

“You don’t know my Quirk.”

“Uh…actually…I kind of do.” Midoriya grimaced guiltily. “I’ve known since that day in class. I couldn’t exactly ignore your, uh, ‘womb lender’ screaming about mind control.”

“Great,” Hitoshi muttered. Of course he knew. It was only a matter of time before they started spouting off about his Quirk being evil and…wait…Midoriya had said he thought it was cool. Maybe this wouldn’t be too bad of a match up. It would definitely make the competition harder later, but he had known he may not be able to keep the element of surprise. “If you can get me close enough to be heard, I can get other people’s headbands.”

“Awesome!” Ururaka exclaimed. “This is going to be great!”

“I’ll put the band on backwards, and then we can bury it with other ones,” Midoriya said, and they all started planning further. Hitoshi took a back seat until Yamada-sensei announced for them all to get into position. Hitoshi took the back while Ururaka and Todoroki hoisted Midoriya up. Hitoshi put a hand on each of their shoulders.

As anticipated, Bakugo’s team came right for theirs. Hitoshi riled the other boy up until he answered a question, and then they had all of that team’s headbands before Bakugo’s teammates knew what happened. Midoriya said something that Hitoshi didn’t quite catch. A moment later, while Hitoshi was struggling to keep Bakugo under control (the other boy was ridiculously strong-willed), Midoriya tapped him on the head to get his attention.

“You can let him go now, Shinsou.”

He frowned.

“Why? He’ll come after us.”

“I have Namura holding him in place. If he tries to come after us, he’ll be stuck, but if he goes after anyone else, Namura will let him go.”

“Okay,” Hitoshi said, but he wasn’t really convinced. He released his hold on the other boy and was immediately assaulted by a string of swearing. Bakugo tried to get his team to get close again, but the boy’s arms stayed where they were, and he nearly fell backward when the redhead, the pink girl, and the tape kid moved.

“Sorry, Kaachan! You can go after someone else, or you can disqualify yourself. Up to you!” Midoriya waved as their group moved off. Bakugo’s group ended up going after some kids from the support course. Ururaka cheered, but was cut off by an attack from the blond kid in 1B. The boy’s hand brushed Ururaka’s head as he tried to grab Midoriya's stack of headbands. Hitoshi immediately kicked at the nearest person’s legs and they went falling. They managed to stay together, though, so they weren’t disqualified. Todoroki provided icy cover as they retreated, and when the other team tried to follow, a burst of fire pushed them back.

“Hey, good job, Todoroki!” Midoriya yelled. Todoroki was…oddly warm now. The warmth radiated from the other boy, to the point it was getting uncomfortable. Hitoshi’s hand felt like it would start burning soon.

“Hey, Todoroki, cool it down a little. This is starting to hurt.”

“Sorry.” The warmth was replaced with something so cold that Hitoshi almost let go.

“Ah! Todoroki, too far, too far!” Midoriya squealed while leaning further onto Ururaka, who trembled. Hitoshi shoved his shoulder under Midoriya’s leg, his hands never leaving his other teammates’ shoulders.

“Get a grip, will you! You’re gonna make us fail!”

“Hey, be nice,” said Midoriya as he righted himself. 

They had to dodge the bird kid’s sentient Quirk before Hitoshi could make a retort. A wall of flames forced the bird-shadow-whatever back. Todoroki remained blessedly neutral in temperature this time. Yamada-sensei announced that five minutes were remaining.

“Okay, Ururaka!” Midoriya yelled as several groups made a mad dash for them. He put his arms out. The girl tapped each of them, and Midoriya’s ghosts guided them through the air, until they were floating high over the arena. Hitoshi didn’t like it. He took tight hold of Ururaka and Todoroki’s arms and squeezed his eyes closed. This weightless feeling…it was like being in a swing. When the swing goes so high that you lift out of it a little, that was the feeling. He was fine with that in an actual swing and only for a moment. But for potentially five minutes, and at least forty feet above the ground? No thank you. Unfortunately, he didn’t have a choice in this.

“Just a little longer,” Midoriya shifted, and they all moved.

“Don’t do that!” Hitoshi was too preoccupied with not feeling like he was going to die to care that his voice was an octave higher and more strained than it should have been. 

“I’m not feeling very well,” Todoroki said next to him. Hitoshi didn’t dare open his eyes to see why. He did open his eyes when Ururaka echoed the sentiment.

“Please don’t drop us,” Hitoshi begged. Somewhere below them, he could hear Bakugo yelling at someone to let him go, and then to get out of the way.

“I’m trying,” Ururaka said, then promptly puked. She kept her Quirk going, though. Somehow. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the buzzer sounded. Midoriya called for his ghosts. Hitoshi let out a yelp when something that felt like hands placed themselves under his armpits.

“You can let go now, Ururaka.”

“What?! NO!” Hitoshi screeched, but it was too late. Ururaka released her Quirk. The four of them fell, albeit at a slower pace than it would have been. Midoriya fell the fastest, but landed with a roll. Todoroki landed somewhat gracefully, but immediately doubled over, hands on his knees and chest heaving. Ururaka landed in a heap, clutching her stomach. Hitoshi landed on his feet, but shakenly went on his hands and knees until his stomach and breathing settled. The winners of the round were announced, but he ignored it. Todoroki seemed to ignore it as well. It was unclear whether Ururaka was even conscious any more, but Midoriya was whooping and jumping for joy. They must have done all right.

A break was announced, and the students made their ways to the waiting rooms. Hitoshi just followed Midoriya. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to follow an insane person, but he hadn’t been paying attention to anything, so he didn’t really have a choice. Todoroki sidled up to him as they walked.

“Midoriya referred to your mother as a ‘womb lender.’ Is there a version of womb lender that would apply to fathers?”

Hitoshi raised a brow. What an odd question.

“I think the term you’re looking for is ‘sperm donor.’”

“Ah. Thank you.”

“No problem.”

Okay, maybe he wasn’t here to make friends, and Hitoshi would definitely defeat these mad-men/women, but maybe after the festival…well, who knew?

Chapter Text

Keigo was having fun outside of the Midoriya apartment for once. He had made a spur of the moment decision to attend the sports festival, and it was the best thing he’d done in a long time. He was put in the heroes’ booth, of course, with All Might and Endeavor. Despite barely doing half of the work that the Commission used to assign him, he was still the number three hero. The number one hero was more than welcoming, and chatted the breaks away. Endeavor ignored them for the most part, but a self-satisfied smirk grew on his face the longer they watched. Keigo exchanged a glance with Yagi. Neither of them had the full picture about what was happening with the Todoroki household, but they knew enough. Keigo took great pleasure in annoying the number two hero.

And when Endeavor excused himself? Keigo took great pleasure in following him. At a distance, of course. The man strode down the halls after that second round of the festival, making his way closer and closer to the competitors’ rooms. Surprisingly, Endeavor ran into his son. What was the younger Todoroki doing in the hallway? Keigo peeked around the turn in the hallway.

“Shoto.”

“Sperm donor.”

Keigo bit his lip to keep from laughing. That had to be the best thing he had ever heard, and it being directed at the number two hero was the icing on top. He decided to watch for a moment, before he intervened.

“What did you just call me?” There was a dangerous glint in the man’s voice. Todoroki stared up at his father, but Keigo could see the ice forming on the back of the boy’s arm.

“It is what you are. Unless you prefer ‘womb lender’, but I’ve been informed that fathers typically do not have wombs.”

Endeavor shook his head and heaved a sigh.

“I’ll let it slide for now. You’re using your fire again. You’re finally using it. You’re going to win using my power,” Endeavor smiled. Todoroki squared his stance.

“Actually, I’m going to win using my own power. I’ll win, and then I will surpass you. You won’t be remembered as anything more than my father, if you’re remembered at all. I’ll step out of your shadow and make my own. Good luck getting out of it,” Todoroki said as he turned to walk away. Before he could, Endeavor grabbed his son by the arm and forced him against the wall. 

“I will not be disrespected by my own son,” Endeavor spat, and that was Keigo’s last straw. The winged hero sent several feathers over, which grabbed Todoroki by his clothes and pulled him away. At the same time, Keigo rushed forward and took up a casual pose against the wall, forcing himself between the two.

“Hey, Endeavor, I wondered where you got off to. You know, a little birdie told me that you’re not supposed to be down here. This is just for competitors, isn’t it?” Keigo laughed. “Actually, it would be hilarious if you competed and got your but handed to you by a little kid. Maybe you should participate.”

“You’re not supposed to be here either,” Endeavor said cooly, all trace of anger gone. No wonder Todoroki was so emotionless that first day at the Midoriyas’ place. He hadn’t known what to expect.

“True,” Keigo replied, “but I was looking for you, so really, it’s your fault I’m here. Why don’t we go back to the booth?”

“No. You can go back there. I’m going for a walk.” Endeavor sauntered off, back the way he came. Keigo exhaled a sigh of relief.

“I’m glad I followed him,” he said to Todoroki, who he turned to look at once Endeavor disappeared around the corner. “You okay, kid? You’re shivering pretty bad.”

“I-I’m-m f-fine.”

“Hey, it’s okay to be a little shaky. You just gave quite the speech to the number two hero. Not many people have the guts to do that.”

“...s-sure.”

Keigo frowned at the boy’s response. Todoroki looked simultaneously pale and flushed, if that were possible. Hot and cold seemed to be radiating from the boy. Keigo reached a hand toward him, and slowed when the boy flinched. He placed his hand on Todoroki’s forehead, and immediately drew it back. Todoroki’s left side burned, hot enough to leave a mark on Keigo’s hand, and frost spread from his right side, coating Keigo’s fingers.

“Crap, kid. Your Quirk’s going nuts.” 

Todoroki just leaned against the wall in response. Keigo ran a hand over his face.

“Do you think you can walk to the infirmary?”

“Y-yes.”

“All right. I’ll walk with you.”

“N-no, that’s ok-kay. It-t’s just-t d-down th-the h-hall.” Todoroki pointed. “I w-was g-going th-there a-anyway.”

“Look, Todoroki, I know you don’t trust me as much as you trust Midoriya or Aizawa, but I can’t let you go by yourself. It would be irresponsible to do, especially as a hero.”

“F-fine.”

They got to the infirmary just fine, but somewhat unsurprisingly, there was a line. Recovery Girl rushed this way and that. She was spritely for an old woman. When she saw Todoroki she grumbled something about problem children, and took him to the side. Keigo kept a feather near them so he could eavesdrop. Maybe that was unprofessional, but he did it anyway.

“What’s bothering you, dear?”

“I-I don’t-t feel g-good.”

“I can imagine,” she said as she checked his temperature the same way Keigo had. She shook out her hand as she continued, “Your body is trying to regulate, but it’s going too far in both directions.”

“C-can you f-fix it-t?”

“No. This is something akin to Quirk exhaustion. You’re just going to have to live through it. And you can’t participate any more today. If you keep using your Quirk right now, it’s just going to get worse.”

“Okay.” The quiet answer got both Keigo’s and Recovery Girl’s full attention. Todoroki wasn’t one to give up without a fight. Especially about something like this. 

“You must feel horrible, dear.” Recovery Girl beckoned Keigo over. “I’m sure you heard all of that, Hawks. Get him somewhere he can actually rest, and get him something to drink. Preferably something with electrolytes. And get him a blanket. He can decide whether he wants to use it or not. As long as he’s listening to what his body needs, he should be fine.”

Keigo took that as the dismissal that it was. He guided Todoroki with an arm deceptively over his shoulders. To the random passerby, it would look like a normal hero interacting with a civilian, but really he was supporting a good amount of the boy’s weight as they walked. 

“So, where do you want to go? I can take you to the apartment, or we can find a free breakroom. Up to you.”

“I want Aizawa-sensei.”

“Uh, he’s in the announcers’ booth with Present Mic. We could maybe find Inko…wait, nevermind. I forgot, she got called in about a case she’s working on this morning. I’m in charge of dinner and everything tonight. Um…What about All Might? He’s your teacher as well. We can go sit with him until the matches are over.” Keigo sighed when Todoroki shook his head. The boy seemed to be shivering less now, at least.

“My f-father will g-go back there. He’ll want t-to see me c-compete.”

“Right. Okay. So how about the apartment? You can even watch the rest of the festival there if you want.”

“N-no. I want Zawa-sensei.” Todoroki’s words started to slur a bit, and he leaned more heavily on the hero. His eyes drifted closed while he muttered incoherent nonsense. The heat coming off of the kid was reaching uncomfortable levels. Keigo made the executive decision to carry him. He got more concerned when Todoroki opened his eyes, but didn’t protest.

“Okay, fine. We’ll go to Eraserhead.”

Chapter Text

When he had agreed to do announcements for the sports festival, Shouta had thought it would be fairly easy. Let Mic do all of the talking, add a few words here and there, and mostly just analyze his students. Maybe take cat naps between matches. Unfortunately, Mic seemed determined to rope him into an entertaining conversation at every possible moment.

“Wow! What a display from Ururaka and Bakugo! Those students of yours are top notch, Eraser! What are you teaching them?”

“How to be heroes.”

“Well, obviously, but that strategy, and the sheer power! I don’t know how you keep up with them. I mean, you must be doing something different this year. There were sixteen spots for this final competition, and your students got twelve of them!”

“They worked hard. They’ve also learned not to hesitate. They’re sure of themselves where the others don’t know what decision to make.”

It seemed that the other students weren’t the only ones who couldn’t make up their minds. The judges - aka Nezu and some of the more experienced teachers - had reworked the third competition’s order twice now. Apparently, several of the students had been injured during the previous competition, but would be fine to compete after visiting Recovery Girl. In the interest of not ‘stealing’ someone’s spot for minor injuries, they had reworked the lineup. Bakugo and Ururaka had been first, and once Cementoss cleared the arena, it would be Kirishima vs Tetsutetsu (which would probably end in a tie, but that didn’t stop Shouta from hoping that his student would win). Following them, it would now be: 

Yaoyorozu vs Tokoyami - If Yaoyorozu was fast enough, she could win.

Iida vs Hatsume - Shouta feared for his student. Even outside of the Support Course, Hatsume Mei had a reputation. He wanted his students to learn, not be blown up by experimental prototypes.

Shinsou vs Sero - He was fairly sure that match would go to Shinsou. Sero could barely keep his mouth shut in class. Shinsou would have an easy win, unfortunately for Sero.

Kaminari vs Monoma - could go either way if he was honest. He wasn’t sure what Monoma would do, but Kaminari might win if he discharged enough electricity at the right time.

Ashido vs Kendo - Ashido’s acid would probably win, but if Kendo was tricky enough, she might stand a chance.

Midoriya vs Ojiro - Shouta wasn’t sure which one would win, nor why Ojiro was suddenly on the lineup instead of Todoroki, and he also wasn’t sure he wanted to know. If Todoroki was pulled out, it wasn’t a good sign. 

The why was answered soon enough. Toward the end of Kirishima vs Tetsutetsu, the door swung quietly open. Mic didn’t notice, too busy commentating. Shouta did. Hawks stood in the doorway with Todoroki in his arms. He silently set the boy on his feet, and leaned him against the wall. Todoroki looked half-dead on his feet, like he hadn’t slept in several days, and his cheeks were flushed as if he had a fever.

“I’ll be right back,” the other hero whispered, and he was. He disappeared for a small moment, then reappeared with a twelve pack of Gatorades with the twist-tops. He continued to whisper, “Recovery Girl said to give him electrolytes and let him rest. I tried talking him into going home, but he said he wanted you. Every time I mentioned changing his mind on the way up here, his temperature went haywire, so I think you’re just going to be stuck with him.”

“Why? What happened?” Shouta whispered back. Mic finally turned to give them a curious glance, but went back to what he was doing.

“Apparently, his Quirk is trying to regulate and it’s overcorrecting. He should be fine later, but Recovery Girl barred him from competing, and he didn’t say a thing. I’m a little worried about him, to be honest.”

“Can’t Inko take him home?”

“No, she got called in on a case. She won’t be back until late tonight at the earliest.”

“All right. I’ll keep an eye on him.” Shouta took his sleeping bag from beneath the announcers’ table and spread it on the floor next to his chair. He had hardly finished opening it when Todoroki crawled onto it. The boy’s eyes fluttered. Shouta went to thank Hawks for bringing him, but the other hero was already gone. He shook his head and turned his attention back to Todoroki, whose brows furrowed in his half asleep state.

“Zawa-sensei?” Todoroki murmured.

“Yeah,” Shouta whispered back, “I’m here. Just sleep for now. You’ll be all right.”

“Mm. ‘m thirsty. It’s too hot,” the boy added, and Shouta thanked his lucky stars that the kid was being quiet. Hopefully, he could get him to sleep and the microphones wouldn’t pick anything up. He didn’t want the kid subjected to the media because of this if he could help it. Shouta opened one of the bottles, and Todoroki sipped it. He would never say it out loud, but Todoroki almost looked like a toddler with a sippy cup at nap time. When the boy started to drift to sleep, Shouta twisted the top of the bottle shut to keep it from spilling and then rejoined Yamada for the announcements.

Tokoyami won. Todoroki turned in his sleep. Iida won, albeit because Hatsume forfeited after using him as a free model. Todoroki muttered something too quiet to hear, but remained asleep. Shinsou won, easily. Todoroki woke up long enough to drink more Gatorade. His mouth was stained blue. Kaminari lost to Monoma, barely. It would be a miracle if either of them were conscious by the next round. Todoroki lost some of the flush to his face. Ashido won. Todoroki got paler. Midoriya won, and Todoroki’s teeth started chattering. Shouta paused in his announcing to zip the boy into his sleeping bag. That plan sort of backfired when Todoroki tried to cuddle his way into Shouta’s chest.

“Hey, I gotta put you down, kid,” he whispered.

“Mm. No. Warm. ‘s too cold.”

“I know, that’s why I’m putting you in the sleeping bag.”

“No, don’ wanna.”

Todoroki nuzzled his nose into Shouta’s collarbone. Shouta sighed and resigned himself to his fate. Sooner or later the boy would let go, when he fell back asleep. Instead of falling asleep, though, Todoroki started whimpering quietly. He had a death grip on Shouta’s shirt. There was the sound of a phone camera from Yamada’s direction. Shouta sent a glare at his friend.

“You had better delete that.”

“No way,” Yamada said way too loudly. Shouta gave the microphones a pointed look. “Oh, it’s fine. I turned them off.”

“Are you sure?”

“Do you hear the laughter of the crowds? Nope. Like I said, they’re off. We have half an hour before Tokoyami vs Monoma.”

“I still can’t believe a kid like that has gotten this far.”

“Shouta!” Yamada chided. “You of all people know Quirks aren’t evil, and Monoma didn’t get this far for nothing–”

“It’s not his Quirk, Hizashi, it’s his attitude. He declared war on my entire class last week. If he didn’t listen to Kendo as well as he does, I would have told Vlad to get rid of him weeks ago.”

“You and your soft spot for people’s potentials.”

“It’s not a soft spot. It’s just a shame for it to go to waste.”

“Like your class two years ago? You know, the one you expelled everyone in?”

Shouta kept the conversation going. The more he talked, the more Todoroki seemed to relax. He was asleep again by the time they needed to start announcing again. Unfortunately, the death grip on his shirt hadn’t loosened. Instead of trying to fight it, he lifted the boy and held him while he watched the matches. When Todoroki started shivering again after the first fight, he had Yamada put the sleeping bag over him. 

Tokoyami won. Bakugo beat Ashido, but much like beating Ururaka, it was a somewhat close call. Midoriya won against Iida when the latter’s engines stalled. Whether that was due to Quirk exhaustion or ghosts, Shouta didn’t know. Shinsou faced off against Kirishima, but really there was no way Kirishima would have won. The only reason Kirishima was there in the first place was because he recovered before Tetsutetsu, and even then he hadn’t fully recovered. Shouta would have to talk to his students about not pushing themselves so hard that they hurt more than they harm. Pushing yourself was a good thing to do, until you pushed so hard that there was no coming back. 

The final rounds would be Bakugo vs Tokoyami, and Shinsou vs Midoriya. Todoroki slept soundly through the first one, despite giant explosions and a wild, flailing Dark Shadow hitting the announcers’ booth at one point. Right before the second one, Todoroki woke up. Fully. The boy shot straight up, and Yamada scrambled to mute the microphones. 

“What’s going on?” Todoroki asked, before looking down and realizing he was on his teacher’s lap. He leapt up and apologized profusely.

“It’s all right, kid. You were tired, and you didn’t want to let go.”

“Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. I already said it was alright. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Todoroki swayed in place, a confused look still on his face. Shouta guided him down to the sleeping bag again and handed him his Gatorade.

“Here. Drink some more, and then try to go back to sleep. You need the rest.”

“Are you sure you want me here? I can go back to the waiting rooms.”

“No, it’s fine, as long as you’re quiet. And if you run out of your drink, Hawks brought an entire pack, so help yourself.”

“What is this stuff?” Todoroki asked while taking another sip.

“...Gatorade.”

“Oh. It’s really good.”

“Glad you like it. Now, try to sleep.” Shouta gently pushed Todoroki’s head back until the boy laid down. His eyes didn’t close, but Shouta could feel his temperature rising again. “I’ll tell you what happens in the matches later. Just rest right now.”

He didn’t sleep. Todoroki’s eyes never seemed to leave Shouta, either. Every time he glanced over, Todoroki was still staring at him or Yamada, bottle in his mouth. Eventually, around the time the final round started, he fell back asleep, one empty Gatorade bottle clutched to his chest, and a second newly opened one halfway in his mouth. Shouta once again twisted it closed before it tilted too far and spilled. He’d have to make sure to stock the Midoriyas’ with plenty of Gatorade later. Shouta turned back to the match at hand. It was the one that concerned him the most. He almost wanted to end it now, just so he wouldn’t have to think about it. But, he would give Bakugo and Midoriya the benefit of the doubt. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as he thought. 

—————

Nerve-wracking did not even begin to describe how Izuku felt about fighting Kaachan. He would give it his all, of course, but he had barely succeeded in fighting Shinsou by breaking two of his fingers. Recovery Girl had healed him, albeit a little reluctantly. She was a lot more concerned than she pretended to be. He was glad she hadn’t disqualified him. Facing Kaachan now…it felt like he was breaking his fingers all over again. Except all over his body, and not physically. Kaachan grinned that sharp grin of his from across the arena. Every nerve in his body seemed to be tuning into a different emotion that floated through the air. Excitement. Wonder. Izuku hadn’t known bloodlust was an emotion, but he felt it now, and it was coming from all around him. It was like the crowd’s emotions had gained substance now that his competitors were out of the way. Earlier on, he had only felt the people directly near him, and now he didn’t have that buffer. Luckily, it didn’t seem like Kaachan had as much bloodlust as he could have.

“You may begin!” Yamada yelled. Kaachan shot forward, and Izuku barely had time to dodge. He whipped around to block a hit.

“Come on, Izuku! Use your Quirk already!”

Izuku didn’t say that he already was. He had Namura, Oboro, and Nana placed around the ring, and Hana in the middle of it. His plan was to lure Kaachan into the center, then distract him with Hana, and then the others would pounce. No One for All needed. Except he was having a really hard time getting Bakugo into the middle. He was having a hard time getting himself into the middle. Although he could technically charge Hana from a distance, it was infinitely easier if he could touch her. 

They danced around the edges of the ring, and Izuku ended up using just one percent of One for All, but he spread it over his body like Nana had taught him last week. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough to keep out of Kaachan’s way. Barely. After several minutes of a back and forth cat-and-mouse game, Kaachan got in a lucky hit. Izuku was blasted backward, across nearly the entire arena, where he rolled to a stop just before crossing out of bounds.

“Come on, De–” Kaachan stopped himself, and a flash of apprehension crossed his features. It seemed he was suddenly aware that what he was doing was a little too familiar. He was almost halfway across the arena, so Izuku raised one hand. Kaachan stopped, looking around like he expected to be jumped. Izuku charged all the ghosts, and he heard the gasps coming from all around them as they appeared. It made him dizzy, and tired, but they could maybe do what he couldn’t. 

Somehow, Kaachan avoided them all. He even ignored Hana, who was doing her best to distract him. Namura and Nana finally managed to grab hold, but that was when their charge ran out. Up until now, Izuku had only managed to fully charge one ghost at a time for fifteen minutes. Four ghosts lasted roughly three minutes. It had been worth a shot. Izuku swayed on his feet, and used One for All to flick air at the other boy. Kaachan blasted his way back, but stopped and switched to hand-to-hand once he got close. It was hard to keep up with a (probably) broken finger and dizziness, but Izuku had been well-trained. He lasted longer than he expected to. Eventually, though, the dizziness won out, and Kaachan threw him out of the ring with one well placed punch to the gut. Izuku rolled on contact, and stayed in the crouched position as the crowd went wild. The next thing he knew, Kaachan was next to him.

“Are you okay?” He asked. Izuku tried to answer, but his head wouldn’t let him. He had been using his Quirk all day, and he was starting to feel…not good. Really bad, actually. Kaachan hauled him up by the back of his shirt, and helped him toward the exit. He could tell Kaachan was angry, perhaps about Izuku not giving it his all, but it wasn’t really his fault. Kaachan shouldn’t be angry. 

“You’re talking out loud, Izuku. And I’m not angry,” Kaachan said. “But I want a rematch on a day when you’re not…this. You couldn’t give it your all even if you wanted to. And I don’t know what that strength part of your Quirk is, but it definitely needs more training before it’ll be worth a fight.”

Wow. How very mature of Kaachan. Izuku thought he would have been much more angry. Kaachan rolled his eyes and huffed.

“The hound said I’m only allowed to use my anger when facing actual villains.”

“Oh. Hound Dog is great. He’s very nice.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever. I’m taking you to Recovery Girl. You’re acting weird.”

“Just Quirk exhaustion, Kaachan.”

“And a broken finger.”

“How’d you know it was broken?”

“It’s purple, Izuku.”

“Oh.”

Chapter Text

Problem children, the lot of them. Shouta had watched that last match, ready to stop it at any point. Instead of the bloodbath he had expected, it was Quirk exhaustion. From what he could see at this distance, it was almost as bad as the first time he had witnessed it. Hawks had gone to check on Izuku, at least. Todoroki was still fast asleep. And Bakugo…Bakugo hadn’t hesitated once during the entire competition, except for this last battle. The normally confident boy had lost more and more of that confidence as the match wore on. If Izuku hadn’t been exhausted, if it had been a real villain fight, Bakugo would have lost. It was a scary thought to have about one of his most competent students.

And Izuku…he was going to take both him and Todoroki home as soon as possible. He would take them now, but unless one of them was actively dying, he couldn’t ignore his other responsibilities. For now, he watched the platforms raise to present their winners. Shinsou and Tokoyami in third, Izuku in second - he definitely shouldn’t have been standing yet, but nothing could be done about it now. And, finally Bakugo in…first…was that a muzzle? It was hard to tell at this distance, but it looked like a muzzle. And was he chained to the podium?

“What. Is. This?” Yamada growled.

“Get that off of him now!” Shouta demanded, barely sparing a glance at Todoroki when the boy twitched awake. Shinsou climbed onto the first place podium and began undoing the muzzle while Bakugo thrashed. Someone on the ground tried to make excuses through the teachers’ radio system, and then Shouta was shouting. He wasn’t even sure what he was shouting, but All Might was running forward, medals and microphone in one hand. The man went straight to Bakugo. He dropped his things, then pulled apart the chains or ropes or whatever they were. Bakugo ranted angrily as soon as they were off, arms flailing in the air as he gestured. The microphone on the ground picked up some of his words. There were some choice swears thrown in around how he hadn’t really won because Icy Hot dropped out and Izuku wasn’t even trying his best. Shinsou went back to his place when Bakugo’s arm nearly sent him off the edge.

“Bakugo,” Shouta said, as gently as he could while still remaining stern. Bakugo either ignored him, or hadn’t heard him, despite the robust sound system. All Might was trying to talk the boy down. Tokoyami and Shinsou were giving the tallest podium a wide berth. Izuku was sitting now. Shouta took a breath. “Iz…Midoriya, help Bakugo.”

The hum Izuku gave got picked up by the microphone as the boy toddled over. He grunted as he tried hopping up and failed. He tried again, this time just leaning until his belly met concrete, and half rolled onto the higher podium. Bakugo was still ranting angrily, and one of the teachers radioed that his parents were trying to access the arena. Izuku wobbled like an overgrown toddler as he wrapped his arms around Bakugo’s middle.

“Oooh I don’t feel very good, Kaachan.”

“Young Midoriya, are you all right?”

“What d’you mean you don’t feel good? Didn’t Recovery…Girl…” Bakugo took a few deep breaths, and halfway collapsed against the other boy. They both nearly fell off the podium, but All Might caught them at the last minute. The microphone barely got the next words.

“All right, boys. To Recovery Girl with both of you. Young Midoriya, no more Quirk use. You’ve overdone yourself today.” All Might hefted the both of them up, and then they both looked like toddlers. Bakugo started acting angrily again, but far less animated, so All Might set him down. He turned to the remaining boys. “I wanted to say good work to you all. You showed great determination and resilience to make it this far. You especially, Young Shinsou. I’ll be right back to present your medals, once Young Midoriya is taken care of.”

And off the number one hero went. It was deadly silent, until Shinsou jumped onto the first place podium to retrieve the medals and the microphone. He handed one to Tokoyami and three to Bakugo.

“Here.”

“What’re you giving me three for?”

“You got first, and—“

“I don’t deserve first! Icy Hot didn’t even compete and Izuku’s Quirk exhaustion kicked in before our match even started!”

“Bakugo, this is ultimately just a game. Take first and figure out your inferior superiority complex later.”

“What?!”

“Just give Midoriya his medal, okay?”

“Fine. But why’d you give me yours?”

At that, Shinsou surprised everyone. He turned and addressed the audience directly.

“I’m sure you’re all wondering the same thing, so I’ll tell you. Bakugo, you’re going to give that medal to Todoroki. I don’t know why he didn’t participate in this last round, but I think we all know if he had, he would have at least gotten third. Probably first or second, if I’m honest. If I were here to make friends…well, he would have been one of them. Apparently, friendship is inevitable. So, I want him to have my medal. I still won, and everyone knows it. A ribbon necklace doesn’t matter. And I’ve got one more thing to say to everyone.” Shinsou paused, whether to make sure everyone was listening or for dramatic effect Shouta didn’t know. Yamada’s finger hovered over the mute button. 

“We all made it this far based on our abilities, our know-how, and our hearts. I’ve been told that I have a villainous Quirk my entire life. Some of you have probably been thinking that since the first round. But that’s why I’ve been working so hard to get into the hero course! To prove you all wrong!” Shinsou turned in a slow circle. “And one more thing. Maybe I do have a villainous Quirk. Maybe. But someone helped me realize earlier that it doesn’t matter if I have a flashy Quirk. It doesn’t matter what everyone thinks. I know who I am. And at least I’m not the one that chained and muzzled a child! I’m not the one who booed and jeered at him for reacting negatively! I may not be a hero, but at least I’m not a villain.”

Well, that little speech may not have ingratiated the little brat to the crowd, but Shouta was impressed. If (when) Shinsou transferred to the hero course, he would probably be more suited to underground heroics, but being able to call people out like that was useful at times. Todoroki had joined in watching, leaning slightly on Shouta’s chair. He was putting off a lot of heat again, but not nearly as much as last time. Tears tracked down the boys face as he whispered something about having a friend. The audience slowly erupted, first one person then another. It seemed to be equal parts cheering and booing. Shouta exchanged a look with Yamada. They would put a stop to that.

“He’s right,” Shouta said, and the crowd quieted as if they could feel the glare directed at them.

“I agree as well,” Yamada added, “except for one thing. You are a hero, Shinsou. It takes courage to say the things you did. And everyone should take a step back and reevaluate the meaning of the word. ‘Hero’ is not just an occupation. It’s a word for people who do what’s right, even when they know they won’t get thanks for it.”

“We’ll end here.” Shouta stood as he left his parting words, which ended up sounding a bit sappy. “To all the participants: good work. If you continue to improve, we’re going to have a very bright future ahead of us. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

Yamada turned the microphones off and ran a hand over his face.

“I’m going to kill whoever did that,” Shouta told him, putting one arm around Todoroki’s shoulders. Todoroki looked up, perhaps a little dazed.

“Aizawa-sensei. I have a friend. Shinsou is my friend.”

“You have two friends,” Shouta said as he guided the kid to the door. 

“Midoriya?”

“Yeah. Midoriya. Now, let’s go find your friends and go home.”

“Okay.”

Yamada trailed along behind them, occasionally steadying Todoroki when he stumbled. When they got to the infirmary, Shouta was glad to see Hound Dog outside with Bakugo. The two were just sitting on the floor. They stopped talking when they noticed them.

“Hey, what’s wrong with Icy Hot?”

“It’s too hot,” Todoroki answered. A sheen of sweat covered the boy’s face. Yamada handed him another Gatorade.

“You overdid it with your Quirk too?! That’s why you didn’t compete?!”

“Bakugo,” Hound Dog growled softly. “Remember, they’re still growing, just like you. They have limits, and they chose to pass them.”

“Oh, I didn’t pass my limit.” Todoroki tried speaking while also keeping the bottle in his mouth, and the words came out a bit garbled. “I have froshbi’e. An’ m’ fire’sh makin’ i’ way too hot.”

“Sensei? What’s wrong with him?”

“Regulation problem,” Shouta sighed. “He’ll be fine by next week. Don’t go telling anyone about it.”

“Wasn’t going to,” Bakugo pouted in a way that someone who was going to exactly that. At least if he did talk, it would probably only be to Midoriya and/or Kirishima. 

Shouta had Yamada take Todoroki while he went in to get Izuku. Who wasn’t where he was supposed to be.

“Where is he?” Shouta groaned. Recovery Girl rolled her eyes.

“Probably tucked in bed by now. Hawks took him home.”

“At least he’s safe,” Shouta said. He rejoined Yamada and Todoroki, and after saying a quick goodbye to Bakugo and Inui, they left.

—————

All for One smiled. His plans to get Tomura and Kurogiri back were well underway. And now, they had two targets. The Shinsou boy may take longer to convince to join them, but Bakugo would be easy. This was going to be fun.

Chapter Text

The sports festival had ended. Horribly. Katsuki couldn’t get the feeling of that muzzle out of his head. Had that been how Yamada-sensei had felt that one day? His muzzle hadn’t even been that bad of a contraption. Yamada-sensei had had an even worse one. The worst part had been the pressure on his sinuses. Usually, that wouldn’t have panicked him, but the pressure had gotten more and more noticeable. It felt too much like being invaded by sludge. It hurt. If it hadn’t been for Shinsou, All Might, and Izuku, who knew how long it would have lasted?

He shivered. Every time his thoughts went back to the medal ceremony, he got shakier. It was the middle of the night now. He had gone to bed when he got home. Katsuki breathed deeply, trying to get a handle on his erratic breaths. He did the techniques Hound Dog had told him about. In for four seconds, out for six. Or was it eight? He couldn’t remember, so he modified it. Count each breath in, each breath out. Make it the same numbers each time. Four and six. Okay. His heart slowed from its racing. Four and six. Four and six. 

After he felt calmed, he tried to fall asleep. Eyes closed, breathe. Then his breathing got heavy again, his pulse raced. Shallow breaths. He repeated his process, got himself calm, and then had to repeat the process again because he couldn’t stop his brain. The feelings kept coming back, stronger each time. After an hour of going back and forth, he couldn’t stop it. Katsuki bolted upright in bed, doing his best not to wake his parents. Tears streamed down his face. Silent sobs wracked his chest. His throat tightened, and he grasped his shirt over his chest. He didn’t want to be alone. He didn’t want to feel like this. He didn’t want to wake his parents. That would be unfair to them. But he didn’t want to be alone.

The shaky, gasping breaths settled just a little when he remembered Sensei’s number. Aizawa had written it on the board the day of the Nomu attack. Katsuki stumbled out of bed as quietly as he could. He rummaged through his bag, breathing still erratic. Where was it? He remembered scrawling the number on the corner of his notebook page. It had to be here…there. There it was.

With shaking fingers, Katsuki typed the numbers in. It rang, and someone picked up but said nothing.

“Sensei?” Katsuki rasped.

“Yes?” The sound of his teacher’s voice was a relief. 

“It’s Bakugo Katsuki.”

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah…if I’m interrupting your patrol, I can…”

“No,” Aizawa whispered. “You’re not interrupting anything.”

“But you’re whispering.”

“So are you.”

They remained silent for a long moment.

“Sensei?”

“Yeah, kid?”

“Could you talk to me for a while?”

“Anything in particular?”

“No. Just…give me a lecture or something. I just…I need…”

“All right.” Aizawa was quiet a moment. “I suppose I can get you started on tomorrow’s subject.”

And Aizawa talked. He talked about tomorrow’s lesson. Katsuki’s breathing eased. Aizawa talked about his day in the announcers’ booth, about how Todoroki had shown up with his temperature fluctuating wildly. He talked about Hawks and Gatorade, and then he started to talk about the last round and the medal ceremony.

“Not that,” Katsuki interrupted, a shot of panic hitting his gut. He relaxed when Aizawa didn’t press.

“All right. Are you feeling better now?”

“Y-yeah.” It was only half a lie. He felt better than he had, but still didn’t feel good. “Can…can you stay on the phone with me?”

“Sure. I’m trapped under two problem children anyway. Can’t go anywhere.”

“How’d that happen?” Katsuki had to stop himself from wishing he could join the pile.

“After the matches yesterday. The plan was for Todoroki to stay overnight at the Midoriyas—“

“I know about Icy Hot and his dad. Not a lot. But you don’t have to hide anything. I know he’s been staying with Izuku for a while now.”

“Of course you do. I really need to teach you all how to keep secrets better,” Aizawa sighed. “Anyway, Todoroki’s been out of it all day. He wouldn’t let me leave, and neither would Izuku. They’re dead asleep now, and they still haven’t let go of me.”

“Heh. The nerds really like you.”

“…yeah. Kid, you mind if I ask why you called?”

“I…I couldn’t sleep.”

“That is one reason. What’s the real one?”

“I think I was having a panic attack. I couldn’t stop it. I tried what Hound Dog-sensei taught me, and it wasn’t working.” Shame colored Katsuki’s cheeks, and his throat threatened to close again. “I really tried.”

“Hey, it’s all right. Sometimes you need something different. Bakugo?” Aizawa’s voice was the softest he’d ever heard it. “Why didn’t you go to your parents? Are you sure you’re all right?”

Katsuki laughed wetly. He shook his head. Leave it to Aizawa to think it was a worst case scenario.

“Yeah. I’m fine. I just didn’t didn’t want to wake them up.”

“…go wake them up, kid.”

“What?” Katsuki frowned. “I don’t…I already caused them so much trouble earlier today. I don’t want to wake them up. Not tonight.”

“They’re your parents, Bakugo. And they must be good people if Midoriya Inko is friends with them.”

“They are.”

“Then go to them. I can’t do much from here, and I would bet a cup of coffee that they would rather you wake them up than suffer alone.”

“You’re on, teach,” Katsuki whispered. “…and thank you.”

“No problem, kid.”

“Goodnight, Sensei.”

“Good night, Bakugo.”

Katsuki hung up, leaning against his bed. With one last sigh, he forced himself up and down the hall to his parents’ room. The door creaked. Mom turned over in her sleep, away from the sound. Dad sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Katsuki? What’s wrong?”

“Uh…I…” How could he tell him that he’d been having a panic attack for almost six hours? And he hadn’t asked for help? “I just…”

Mom turned over again, only half-way this time. She lifted up the comforter, the way she had when he was little and had a nightmare.

“Come on, brat,” she rasped, her voice rough and still half asleep. “You can sleep with us tonight.”

Katsuki crawled under his mom’s arm and settled between his parents. Dad laid down as well, draping one arm over his family. Mom took one of his hands in hers.

“You’re a good boy, Katsuki,” she said around a yawn. “You rest. I’ll chase the nightmares away.”

And if Katsuki cried, if his parents held him closer, nobody else needed to know.

Chapter Text

Tartarus was in pandemonium when Inko arrived. She was ushered into a nondescript room, presumably a breakroom for the prison guards, and told to stay there. She had nothing better to do, so she obeyed. It took a while, but eventually a warden came to tell her what happened.

“Two prisoners broke out. Well, sort of. They didn’t really break anything,” she said. Her name was Kasua, if Inko remembered correctly. “They just…disappeared. Turned into some sort of sludge.”

“I see. And one of those prisoners wouldn’t happen to be the one I was supposed to be visiting?”

“Unfortunately, yes. We don’t know exactly how it happened, but we’ve detained several guards. They will be interrogated. And so will you, unfortunately. I apologize for the inconvenience, but until we know who did it, we can’t let anyone leave.”

“I understand,” said Inko, suddenly very glad she had told Keigo to take care of Izuku. There was no way she would be back when she wanted to be. 

“Yes, well…shall we do your interrogation now? We’ve brought in a specialist, and they’ll be able to give us insight into the escape.”

“That would be perfectly fine.”

The specialist, as it turned out, was someone she had trained personally. His name was Pak, and his Quirk allowed him to see the last 48 hours of someone’s life. Inko had to admit, she hadn’t expected him to be here. He had sheepishly apologized for the invasion of privacy, to which she had said that she consented so it was fine. His eyes glowed green, then his hair. Five minutes later, he stood, nodded, and left.

“It’ll take him a while to sort through everything. He still has to go through the others as well.”

“I know.” Inko settled back in the chair. “Now, I’m just going to have to find a way to pass some time.”

“Yes, sorry.” Warden Kasua shook her head as she left. “We’ve never had this happen before, so I apologize if it takes longer than we expect.”

Seconds ticked into minutes, which ticked into hours. She was missing Izuku’s competition, and she didn’t even have a ghost with her. Namura had stayed with Izuku. Around noon, someone brought Inko some lunch. She sighed.

“I wonder if Izuku’s winning…” she wondered aloud, and almost jumped when a cold sensation went through her left shoulder. That was a…yes? But from who? Inko leaned back in her seat and signed with one hand under the table. There didn’t seem to be any cameras in this room, but you never knew. 

‘Namura?’ She asked. Right shoulder. No. ‘Then who?’

A coldness pulsed in her hand. She nonchalantly brought one hand onto the table, and one under her chin, as if bored. Very, very slowly, cold lines were traced to to her skin, leaving it just slightly red. Hopefully, not red enough to show up on camera. The word ‘first’ appeared, and she switched hands.

“First what?” She murmured.

‘OFA’ appeared next. What did that mean…? Inko frowned, and flipped her hand over after stretching the cold out of it. Izuku’s name was next, and suddenly it all clicked. The first holder of One for All. Inko wasn’t as alone as she had originally thought. Just then, the Warden came back.

“You’re free to go, Agent Midoriya. I’ll escort you back.”

“Thank you,” she said.

When they got back to the mainland, it was getting late. Nearly eight o’clock, and she was still a few hours from home. An insistent cold tapping made her turn away from the train station she was walking to. She put an earbud in, so it would look like she was just on the phone. Not many people were out in the city at the moment, but she couldn’t be too careful.

“What do you want?” She asked. The coldness fell through her a couple of times in one direction. Inko shivered. “You want me to go that way?”

Left shoulder. Yes.

“Okay,” she shrugged. Namura had never asked her to go places, so this was a first. But if he was the first holder of Izuku’s second Quirk, then she would trust him. Or her. Inko realized she had no idea. “Just so we’re clear, this isn’t going to be dangerous, is it?”

Right shoulder, then left.

“You don’t know?”

Nothing, but the cold went through her again.

“Okay. Fine.”

Inko walked, and walked. The city wasn’t crowded at the docks she had been dropped off at, but the farther in she went the more people there were. The cold sensation would drift through her every so often, directing her down one street or another. One more time, and she was directed into an alleyway. At the end of it, between two dumpsters, there were two people she hadn’t expected to find. One was Kurogiri, who had a very nice suit on. The other was Shigaraki, who froze with sweatpants halfway pulled up his leg. 

“It seems we have company,” Kurogiri’s deep voice said from somewhere in the void. 

“Hello, Kurogiri.” Inko nodded. “Tenko.”

“I don’t know how you know that name, but it’s not mine,” the young man rasped. His voice sounded worse than Inko had ever heard it. “How did you find us?”

“I had a feeling.” Not technically a lie.”Where will you go?”

“Back to our master,” Kurogiri answered while Shigaraki finished putting his clothes on. There was a small bleach stain on the sleeve of the hoodie, and Inko wondered if he had stolen it or…actually, they definitely hadn’t bought it. They didn’t have money.

“Do you want to go back?” Inko asked. Shigaraki froze, just for a moment.

“Where else would I go?” He had definitely tried to make it sound like his decision, but there was an underlying sigh in his words. Such a resigned sound.

“You could come with me,” she found herself saying. What was she thinking? He was a convicted criminal escapee! But…a little hope entered his eyes at the offer.

“No,” he said finally. “But…”

“Well. All right, then.”

“What would happen if he accepted?” Kurogiri asked. Shigaraki gave him a bewildered look.

“I suppose we would have to disguise you?” Inko shrugged. “I could help you find a place to live, and as long as you stopped any villainous activities, I would help you find your way in the world.”

“That is a kind offer,” the misty man said. “We will take it into consideration.”

“Very well. But please keep in mind that, while I want very much to help you, I have other things in my life to consider the safety of. And if you threaten that…”

“Understood. Come, Tomura.”

The two disappeared through a portal. A cold (probably) hand brushed through the top of her head a couple of times, barely brushing her scalp. Like a head pat. Inko looked to where she thought this ghost was.

“I don’t suppose you could convince him?”

Right shoulder. No.

“Right. Well, let’s get home.”

It was a long way back. The clock read three in the morning when she got home. Surprisingly, there were three heroes in her living room when she got home. Present Mic seemed to be perfectly comfortable on the floor, back against the couch and one foot under the coffee table. His jacket, glasses, and support items were on the kitchen table, along with three empty pizza boxes. Keigo had tucked himself into the armchair. Inko didn’t know how he managed to stay on and sleep at the same time. Aizawa slept with his head on the back of the couch, snoring very softly. His arms and feet were out, but the rest of his body was covered in mounds of blankets. One of the mounds moved, and Inko had to suppress a yelp as a sleepy eyed Todoroki poked his head out. Aizawa’s hand patted the boy’s head, and he leaned back to where he had been.

“Looks like a party in here,” Inko whispered when she noticed Aizawa watching her. “What happened?”

He whispered back while nodding in the direction of who he was talking about.

“Quirk exhaustion, Quirk regulation issues, refused to leave even though he lives down the hall, and I’m his ride home. We got a little stuck.”

“I can see that,” Inko chuckled. “Do any of you have patrol tomorrow?”

“I don’t think so. And no school, either. I think we should just let these two sleep as much as possible.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’m going to go get some sleep now. Wake me if you need anything.”

“Mm.” Aizawa sounded like he was already falling back to sleep.

Once she made sure her boys were all okay, she got herself ready for bed, idly wondering what would happen if Shigaraki were to return. He wouldn’t attack the school again, right? Inko snuggled under her covers and did her best not to think about it.

—————

“Tomura.” Sensei beckoned him closer. “I am sorry it took so long to get you out of that prison.”

“It’s fine, Sensei,” Tomura replied. Oh, how his throat hurt. He had never been sure what made it hurt. Except that it had almost stopped while he’d been pumped full of Quirk suppressants. Maybe, after Sensei’s plans were fulfilled…maybe Sensei could take his Quirk. He didn’t want it right now. 

“I had many plans in motion. I am glad to see one of them worked.”

Yeah. The one where Kurogiri did most of the work. Had Sensei even tried to come to him? To help him? That Midoriya woman had come to see him every other day. And Sensei had what? Ordered some lackey to lessen Kurogiri’s restraints? Tomura shook the thought out of his mind. If Sensei had known about it, he would be angry. 

“Well, now that you’re back, safe and sound, we have work to do. There are two hero students that I think you could add to your party, so to speak.”

“Yes, Sensei.”

Sensei told him about the sports festival and the boys they (he) wanted to recruit. Tomura listened idly. The plan didn’t seem to involve him much. It was mostly henchman doing the grunt work. His mind drifted back to Midoriya Inko. She had spent days just listening to him. He had just said what Sensei always said for the most part, but sometimes…the days in his cell had been long, and lonely. Tomura hadn’t been the most talkative person before, but he realized how much he liked talking - or even just listening- when he had no one to talk to. No Spinner to play video games with. No Dabi to snap at. No Toga to chastise. No Kurogiri. 

Surprisingly, Kurogiri was who he had missed most. Or maybe unsurprisingly. Kurogiri had always been the one to protect him, to comfort him. Of course, that was because of Sensei’s devotion to Tomura’s future, but this stint in jail was starting to make him wonder. What had Sensei actually done for him? Fed him and clothed him, sure. Kept a roof over his head. But that’s what…what Father did. Did Sensei care about him like Mother had? He didn’t think so. Kurogiri may have been programmed to, but what did that matter? He was there. Sensei wasn’t. Agent Midoriya had been there, well past when she had to be. Come to think of it, Sensei had mentioned the name Midoriya and the sports festival a moment ago. Was the kid hers? Or just related?

“Tomura. You seem distracted.” Oops. That was the pretend-I’m-concerned-about-you tone that Sensei liked to use when he was disappointed but still wanted you to do something.

“Sorry, Sensei. It’s been a long…day. Week. I’m just tired.”

“Very well. I won’t bore you with any more details. Get some sleep. We can go over this again tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, sensei.”

When Tomura got to his room, Kurogiri was already there. He had laid out some pajamas, and patted his head as he left. It was awkwardly familiar. He hadn’t done that since Tomura was a kid.

“As always, child,” Kurogiri said, “I will do whatever I need to.”

And Tomura knew he was talking about Agent Midoriya. He would follow, and protect, and care for him. Even if Midoriya’s offer ended up being a trap.

Chapter Text

The days after the sports festival came and went. The entire school was still buzzing about Todoroki dropping out of the festival. So far, though, it seemed like Izuku and Bakugo actually could keep a secret. Although, Shouta had to admit that Izuku may not remember the other boy’s temperature problems. He had been unconscious or spaced out for a good deal of it. Unfortunately, no one else was as tight-lipped about the situation. Even his own class had been spreading rumors, theories, really. And it was getting bad.

Out in the hallway just after class, Shouta heard Monoma from 1B.

“Hey, Todoroki, you just couldn’t handle the pressure of the festival, could you? Or were you just too proud to participate?”

Oh no. Absolutely not. That was not going to happen. Before he could do more than stand, Bakugo retorted.

“He did it to spite his dad, moron. ‘Cuz Endeavor sucks balls.”

Shouta was not sure whether he should reprimand that. The door was still mostly closed. He could feign ignorance. 

“Oh, wow. Are you really going to take that, Todoroki?” Monoma jeered. As nonchalantly as he could, Shouta snuck to where he could see out the door. Izuku had his hands in fists next to them, while Todoroki and Bakugo seemed completely relaxed. Key word: seemed. Both boys were tense. Bakugo in his shoulders and Todoroki with his hands gripping his backpack.

“He’s not wrong,” Todoroki shrugged. 

“Come on, guys,” Izuku bit out. A palpable feeling of anger washed over the gathering crowd. “Let’s go. And Monoma? Shut up. Todoroki can do what he wants.”

“Aw, are you letting your little friends fight your battles?”

The wave of anger turned dangerous.

“All right, that’s enough.” Shouta shot his scarf out the door before emerging himself. Monoma squeaked in fear. Izuku’s anger didn’t fade until Shouta put a hand on his shoulder. “Monoma, where’s Kendo?”

“Yeah, where’s your minder?” Bakugo grinned. Shouta tapped him on the back of the head.

“Don’t.” 

Bakugo huffed.

“Kendo had to talk to Vlad-sensei,” Monoma wheezed, more from fear than the scarf. Shouta let him go. 

“You shouldn’t need a minder, Monoma. This is probably the first time I’ve seen you without her, and if this is how you act, then you don’t belong in the hero course.”

“Yes, sir.” Monoma ducked his head.

“You’ll have detention after school with me until you can learn to mind your manners.” Shouta started to walk away. “And by the way, in my professional opinion, Endeavor does, in fact, ‘suck balls’.”

Shouta smirked as he made his way to the teachers’ lounge. He could feel the shocked gazes of all the students on his back. He had needed something to keep them guessing. It wouldn’t do if they all knew exactly what he would do.

—————

“I have a theory.” Todoroki hung halfway upside down on the couch. Izuku was next to him, scribbling away in his notebook.

“New theory, or building on the old one?”

“New one.”

“What is it?”

“Do you think Shinsou could be Aizawa-sensei’s biological child?”

Izuku shook his head and countered with his own question.

“Do you think Aizawa would abandon his own kid?”

“Well, no, but hear me out.”

Izuku set his notebook down and regarded Todoroki with a look.

“What if some villain got Aizawa’s DNA and decided to use it. Maybe wanted to combine it with another Quirk - brainwashing, for instance - but the brainwashing Quirk genes were stronger than the Erasure ones. They also look pretty similar.”

“Well, yes,” Izuku said, “I guess they do look a little similar. But I think it’s more likely that they’re distantly related, second or third cousins maybe. That would explain the similarities and the differences in Quirk and Quirk activation requirements.”

Todoroki was silent, contemplating the idea. He turned so he was on his stomach, facing Izuku with his feet up in the air. Izuku went back to his hero analysis while he waited for the other boy to think.

“Okay. That does make more sense,” he said. Then, “I have another theory.”

“Shoot,” said Izuku, not looking up from his writing. 

“Do you think Aizawa-sensei might have a secondary Quirk?”

“You know I do. There’s no way his hair isn’t affected by something.”

“Okay, a third…thirdarary? No, that’s not it. What’s the word?”

“Um…Tertiary?”

“Right, thanks. Do you think he might have a tertiary Quirk?”

That was a new one, and also one Izuku couldn’t tell where it came from. He gave Todoroki his undivided attention again, this time putting his things down on the coffee table.

“What Quirk?”

“I’ve been thinking about it, and he’s very parental. I mean, he’s practically your dad, my dad, and at least a little bit Bakugo’s dad.”

“Kaachan has a dad, Todoroki.”

“That has no relevance here. The point is that Sensei feels that way.”

“Evidence?” Izuku asked. It was an interesting theory, but Izuku didn’t know how he felt about it. On the one hand, it would make sense. Aizawa felt very strongly about all his students. If it was Quirk related, it would make sense. Maybe some sort of latent protection oriented Quirk. But at the same time, that would mean that all Aizawa had done - how much he meant to Izuku - might not be because he actually cares. Which just…that kind of hurt to even contemplate.

“I don’t have any hard evidence, but why else would he care about us all this much?”

Oh. Oh. That was what this was about. Todoroki still didn’t get the whole ‘caring-because-why-wouldn’t-I’ thing. Izuku shook his head. He had really thought his friend had figured it out, but apparently not. Todoroki flipped onto his back, and Izuku sat sideways so they would at least partially be facing each other.

“I can tell you that that isn’t the case.”

“How do you know?”

“You know how I can sense emotions?” 

Todoroki nodded. 

“So, basically, Aizawa feels the same way about you and me because he’s more directly taking care of us. He feels similarly but less potently about the rest of the class because he’s also taking care of them to an extent. Other people feel like that sometimes, too.”

“Like who?” Todoroki frowned. 

“My mom, Keigo, Yamada, Yagi, pretty much all of the adults in our lives. And our classmates, but I only noticed that when we were facing the Nomu thing. I have my own theory that feelings like that get stronger when you’re older because our paternal or maternal instincts start to develop.”

“Hm. My father must have skipped out on that.”

Izuku laughed. If half of what Todoroki had told him after the last few weeks was true, then Endeavor definitely skipped. 

“Oh, Todoroki—“

“You can call me Shoto, if you want.”

“Oh. Sure. You can call me Izuku. Anyway, I’ve been meaning to ask, do you know why Keigo’s been calling your dad a sperm donor? With Kaachan, it makes sense, and I’ve been calling him that because you do. But I don’t think any of us have told Keigo about that.”

“Oh. He heard my conversation with Father at the sports festival.”

“Huh.” Izuku thought for a moment. “You know, Endeavor was Keigo’s favorite hero, until you started living with us. He seems to like you pretty well.”

“Is…that a problem?”

“No, no. I was just making an observation. I’m mostly glad you guys get along. I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t.”

A small sound came from the hallway, and Izuku noticed that woman again. She had been everywhere. Always near Shoto, always watching. Always just a little too far away. Izuku had never felt more haunted.

“Shoto.”

“Yes?”

“I’m going to look insane for a minute.”

“Don’t you always? You talk to people who don’t seem to be there.”

“Okay,” Izuku replied with exasperation. “Now, you. Lady who keeps following my friend here. What is your name? Why are you following him?”

The woman shrunk back, but at least made eye contact this time. Izuku waited. She did nothing. Said nothing.

“Is she doing anything?” Shoto whispered. 

“No,” Izuku sighed. Shoto turned his head to follow Izuku’s gaze.

“I can’t see you,” he said, “but if you could please tell Mi- uh, Izuku, I mean, whatever he wants to know, that would be appreciated. I want to know as well. It’s weird enough that I’m being followed. Being followed by a stranger is even weirder.”

“I…” the ghost got closer, just a few little steps. Her voice sounded wispy, like air wasn’t fully going through her voice box. “I…am…his…grand…mother.”

“She says she’s your grandma.”

“Oh. Is she the same one you asked about at dinner that first night?”

“Yeah.”

“Does she look like me?”

The question took him off guard a little, but Izuku nodded. The woman had the same pointed chin, the same cheekbones. She even narrowed her eyes the same way. She was a lot rounder, though. Rounder face, rounder eyes. She wasn’t fat, far from it, but she looked like she would be nice to hug. Kind of like Mom. 

“I…can…not…speak…well.”

“That’s okay. Is that why you haven’t approached?”

She nodded. “Most…ly.”

“Well, that’s okay. I can teach you sign language. Well, a version of it. I modified it so that it can be more subtle, and I kinda made up some of my own signs when I was a kid.” Izuku pointed toward the fridge. “There’s ghost rules on top of the fridge. You haven’t broken any, even though you didn’t know them, but they’re there if you want to read them.”

“O…kay…”

Another ghost came barreling through the front wall. Liza threw her arms out, and Izuku jumped at her sudden appearance.

“Izuku!” She all but yelled.

“What’s wrong?” Shoto asked. 

“Nothing. It’s just Liza.”

“Who?”

“Liza. She haunts Keigo sometimes.”

“Yeah, sorry I’ve taken so long to come back, my friend. I’ve been watching over my brother for the most part. I just wanted to make sure Hawks is taking care of himself. He seems to be doing really well. Oh, what’s your name? You seem new. And what’s his name? He’s definitely new.”

“One question at a time!” Izuku grinned. “This is Shoto and his grandmother.”

“So weird,” Shoto muttered, pulling Izuku’s notebook off the table and thumbing through it as if it were a magazine.

“Oh, cool. Hey, by the way, Hawks is bringing a surprise for Shoto.”

“Ok. Should I tell him, or—“

The door burst open, revealing Keigo in his hero costume, jacket in his hand. He ruffled their hair after tossing his jacket on the table and sending his feathers into the pin cushion, which was now a strawberry. The tomato one was in his own apartment.

“Hey, boys! Todoroki, you’re never going to believe this. Your sperm donor is taking parenting classes! It’s actually hilarious. I peeked in, and he was sitting in this tiny little desk! The other parents were so intimidated!”

“Oh, yeah,” said Liza, “Hawks also talked Endeavor into that.”

“How’d you manage that?” Izuku asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Uh, nothing, nevermind.”

“Oh, listen, Todoroki, I have a surprise for you!” Keigo zipped to the door, stuck his head out, and beckoned someone in.

“Fuyumi!” Shoto gasped, and the boy ran into his sister’s arms.

“Shoto!”

The Todorokis’ grandmother put a hand over her mouth, tears in her eyes.

“So…grown…up,” she said.

“Oh, Sho-Sho, I’ve been so worried! How’s your frostbite?” She asked in a quieter voice.

“Almost completely healed,” Shoto reported. “Aizawa-sensei has been working with me after school, and my Quirk regulation is back to normal. I’ll be perfectly healthy by the time I take my finals.”

“You look healthy, sweetheart,” Fuyumi said, cupping his face in her hands. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this…well, you look less skinny, let’s put it like that.”

“I’m not training as much any more.”

“That’s okay! I think Father was always…a little…much. But he’s trying now! Did Hawks tell you? He’s taking parenting classes!”

“Yeah, he told me.” Shoto pulled away, and wave of…disappointment? Anger? Frustration, maybe? A wave of something washed over Izuku. Shoto was not happy about his dad. Which, fair.

“Isn’t it wonderful?”

“…sure, Yumi.”

“Look,” Fuyumi rubbed her arm, like she was anxious (which she was, Izuku could feel it), “I know he hasn’t been great, to any of us, but…what if we could be a family? Not today, but soon?”

“I…I don’t know…” Shoto said, but he did know. Izuku knew. His friend only felt guilt for lying to his sister, not confusion or unsurety or hope. Izuku pinched his eyes closed. The emotions in the room were getting a little strong, so he excused himself. Keigo followed, probably to give the Todorokis some privacy. The ghosts followed as well, but stayed in the hallway. Liza was trying to teach Shoto’s grandmother how to change her appearance. Ghosts couldn’t change a lot, but, with enough work, sometimes they could revert themselves to a previous state of being. A good thing, too. Izuku didn’t know if he could handle seeing Oboro’s body being twisted and broken, or Liza’s body being impaled with metal pieces. Or whatever had happened to Hana. She never had said exactly.

“Well, that conversation got intense fast,” Keigo said. He sat sideways in Izuku’s desk chair, idly spinning around.

“He doesn’t want that.” Izuku hugged his pillow to his chest. “He doesn’t want to go back. Even if his dad is getting better.”

“Yeah. I could tell.” The hero spun again. “He loves his sister, though.”

“I know. He talks about her the most out of the rest of his family. But she wants something he loathes the idea of. I…I just…”

“You wish you could fix it, but you can’t?” Keigo supplied. Izuku nodded, playing with a loose thread on his pillowcase.

“I don’t want him to get hurt. Again. He’s…”

“Our brother,” Keigo finished. He stopped spinning. “Izuku, no matter what happens, we’re going to look out for him. It doesn’t matter where he is, or what he’s doing. He’s one of us.”

“One of us, one of us,” Izuku half heartedly chanted. Keigo smiled, one of those small smiles that could barely be called that.

“Yeah. And I don’t think Mama Bird will be letting him go easily.”

“I guess you’re right.” He buried his face in the pillow.

“Doesn’t feel much better, does it?”

“Not really, no.”

Silence fell over them. It stayed until well after Fuyumi left and Mom came home. Shoto had shut himself in his room. Even the ghosts either fell silent or left. Eventually, Mom called everyone for dinner. Shoto only made an appearance long enough to scarf it down, then disappeared into his room again. 

That night, Izuku couldn’t sleep. He tossed and he turned. No ghosts bothered him, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Finally, after hours of not sleeping, he got up. A glass of water might help. As Izuku passed Shoto’s room, he noticed an odd light coming from under the door. It wasn’t bright, but it looked like…Izuku burst through the door, scared that Shoto might have set a fire in his sleep. Instead, he found a startled Shoto with a flame held on one finger. It extinguished, leaving them both in the dark.

“Oh, um…” Izuku blushed, grateful that it was dark enough to hide it. “Sorry. I thought maybe you had had a nightmare or something and there was a fire…”

“There’s not,” Shoto whispered. Something still didn’t seem right. Shoto sat upright, one leg hanging down from the bed, the other in a sort of half-criss-cross situation. Izuku’s eyes widened as they adjusted to the dim moonlight coming from the window. The leg on the bed was covered in burns. Little ones, like someone had taken their finger and dragged it across the skin. It looked like the burns cut through frost.

“Shoto…”

“It’s not what it looks like.”

“It looks like you're hurting yourself.”

“I mean, kind of? I just…there was frost because I was fighting with my sister, and I started melting it, then it was sort of mesmerizing to watch, and…yeah…”

“You still burned yourself.”

“It’s not that bad. I’ve had worse.”

“It’s still not good.”

“I know,” Shoto sighed. He pulled his legs to his chest.

“Hang on,” said Izuku. If Shoto really did just want to play with making and melting frost, then he had an idea. First, he got burn cream from the bathroom. Then he got one of the silicon ice trays out of the freezer, dumped the ice in the sink, and gave it to his friend.

“What’s that?” Shoto asked while putting on the burn cream.

“An ice tray, but that’s food grade silicone, so I think it can survive high temperatures as well as very cold ones. You can do the frost thing on that instead.”

“Oh.” Shoto traced over the back of the tray with his right hand and a thin layer of frost covered it. He used his left hand to melt it until his name formed. Izuku blinked against the fire. “This is better than my leg. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Izuku didn’t leave, although it felt like their conversation should be over.

“I’m not going to go back to what I was doing. You don’t have to watch me.”

“That’s…that’s not what…” Izuku sighed. “I don’t know. I just can’t sleep.”

“Why not?”

“Well, I guess…your fight with your sister. Do you want to go back with her some day?” He already knew the answer, but hearing it was different. And maybe Shoto had changed his mind in the last few hours.

“I miss her,” Shoto said, “but I don’t miss anything else. My oldest brother died when I was little, Natsuo moved out. Mom’s in a mental institution. Fuyumi and Father were always there. Fuyumi’s the only reason my frostbite didn’t interfere with my studies. She fixed it, as much as she could.”

“She sounds more like a mom than a sister,” said Izuku, taking a seat next to Shoto. The other boy didn’t seem to mind, so he laid back. 

“Sometimes. When Father let her.”

“Do you think your dad will actually be better?”

“Even if he does, I don’t want to go back.”

“Why not?”

“I like it here,” Shoto said. “It’s…nice. And it’s smaller than my old house. But it’s better. There’s not enough room for anger, or sadness, or anything else here. It’s too filled with love.”

“Yeah, I guess it kind of is.” Izuku smiled at the ceiling, glad that Shoto felt so welcome here. “But if you ever have to go back…you won’t be alone. I’ll make sure of it. Keigo, too. He’s pretty good at taking care of little brothers.”

“Brothers? I didn’t know he had other family.”

“He doesn’t,” Izuku laughed. “I was talking about us.”

“Us.”

“You’re one of us now, and you always will be. No matter what happens.”

Shoto didn’t say anything, but when Izuku glanced over, he was smiling. The word ‘family’ was traced in frost on the ice tray. Izuku pushed Shoto’s arm until the other boy laid down as well. They had school in the morning, and if they weren’t going to get sleep, they were at least going to rest properly. Izuku fell asleep watching Shoto draw.

Chapter Text

When Shouta’s phone dinged, he didn’t look at it. But when his phone rang, he scowled. Somebody was trying to interrupt his third year lessons, and he was going to put a stop to it. He blinked at the caller ID and stepped into the hallway.

“Bakugo. You’re supposed to be in class. Unless someone is actively dying, you should not be on your phone.”

“Look at your texts, old man!” Was all the boy said before he hung up.

Shouta scowled at his phone, then did just that. Bakugo had sent him two pictures: Izuku asleep at his desk, and Todoroki also asleep at his desk. The difference was that Mic had taken a selfie with Todoroki, and the frost that covered the desk. That wouldn’t be too strange, except the frost very clearly held an image of Shouta. It wasn’t detailed, and if you didn’t already know him then you couldn’t tell it was him. But it was definitely meant to be him. The goggles and the scarf were the biggest giveaways. 

“What,” Shouta said to the empty air. He texted back.

Me

‘why did Mic have your phone?’

Angry Problem Child

‘Because the cockatoo doesn’t know what personal property is!’

Me

‘Don’t call your teacher a cockatoo.’ 

‘But you’re right. He doesn’t.’

‘Actually, tell him he had better give me my backup goggles.’

Angry Problem Child

‘Tell him yourself! I’m not your message boy.’

Me

‘You texted me in the middle of class.’

‘This is your punishment.’

Angry Problem Child

‘Fine.’

‘He says you can have them after he’s done playing with them.’

Me

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

Angry Problem Child

‘I don’t know, but he’s putting on a scarf like yours now.’

‘Midnight-sensei just showed up. She’s dressed like Mic-sensei. I think they’re going to do a skit.’

“Why?” Shouta asked no one in particular. He shook his head and rejoined his class. 

“Is anything wrong, sensei?” Mirio asked. He had several other third years around him. They appeared to have started a game of Uno. 

“No, everything’s fine. But I have a job for you all.”

“Ooh, what is it?” Asked Nejire. “Is it something for our internships?”

“No. It’s to teach Mic not to mess with my stuff.”

“Did he take your goggles again?” Mirio asked, grinning. Aizawa nodded.

“You’re all going to dress as Mic, and follow him around if you have any spare time. I’ll give you an A for this week’s assignment if you get him to break down.”

“That seems a little mean…” said someone in the back of the class.

“He needs to learn not to take things without asking. I’ll wave next week’s assignment completely for anyone who brings me something from Mic’s outfit.”

The class was immediately on board. Shouta grinned at the thought of Mic getting a taste of his own medicine.

—————

A strange phenomenon happened during the week. Seemingly an entire class dressed as Hizashi. They kept following the teacher around, occasionally trying to take bits of his costume. Somehow, he was able to avoid almost everything. 

“You’re never going to believe what’s happening,” he told Shouta. Shouta raised a brow, a spoonful of cereal halfway to his mouth. Breakfast was usually a silent affair, but not today.

“You’re giving me my goggles back?”

“No. Well, yes, I’ll give them back, but that’s not what’s happening.”

“Hm.”

“I’ve been being followed by a horde of mini-mes and they’ve been trying to take my things. I think Mirio got my glasses.”

“I’ll ask later today. He might just get this week’s assignment waved.”

“What? Why?”

“Extra credit,” Shouta shrugged.

“Wait, were you the one that put them up to this?!”

Shouta only grinned.

Chapter Text

Choosing a hero name was difficult. It was made more difficult by the cloud-haired idiot who had parked himself on top of Izuku’s desk. The boy huffed.

“Something wrong over there, sweetheart?” Midnight-sensei asked.

“Oboro won’t get off of my desk.”

“Tattletale,” said Oboro, sticking his tongue out.

“Yeah, he does that,” Midnight-sensei said. Her voice got a little distant, and her emotions a little down, like when Izuku had doodled Oboro on one of his papers. It was odd. Whenever he mentioned Oboro around Aizawa or Yamada, they both had a tinge of sadness, but it was always quickly replaced by happiness. With Midnight-sensei, it was mostly sadness.

“Were you friends with each other too?” Izuku peeked around Oboro.

“Uh, yeah,” she said. She cleared her throat. “Now, who wants to go first?”

They cycled through a few people, and Oboro started begging for the pen.

“Please charge me! I have the best name for you!”

“I don’t know about that,” Izuku muttered back. 

“Please!”

“Fine, but you don’t get to take it up front before I see it.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah! Gimme!”

Izuku let him take over, which was probably all right, because he couldn’t think of anything anyway. Deku had kind of a nice ring to it, surprisingly. Ururaka seemed to have changed its meaning, purely by using it nicely. Kaachan unsurprisingly had an interesting name: King Explosion Murder. Midnight sent him back to his seat, but Izuku thought that was actually a decent beginning.

“Kaachan, why don’t you take out ‘murder’?

“But that’s the best part!” Kaachan furrowed his brows when Oboro decided to grab his marker as well. The ghost crossed it out, and wrote something else.

“Huh…” Kaachan narrowed his eyes, erased part of it, and wrote something else before marching back up front. He turned his board around, and Izuku grinned. “I’ll be the Explosion Hero: Dynamight!”

“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Midnight exclaimed. “Perfect!”

Kaachan smirked at the class as he took his seat. Oboro placed Izuku’s board face down in front of him.

“Time for yours!” He said. Izuku tried looking at it, but Oboro slammed it down. “Don’t look, just go!”

“I’m not going without looking,” Izuku muttered. Midnight-sensei took that as some sort of indicator that he was ready.

“Well, Midoriya, what do you have? Come share it with the class!”

“Okay…” Izuku took his board, flipping it over as he walked. He froze for a second when he read it.

“Something wrong?”

“No, no. Everything’s fine.” Izuku smiled at the name. He took a deep breath, and presented it to the class. “My hero name is Heartstring.”

“That’s a wonderful name,” Midnight said, “but are you sure you don’t want something about ghosts in there?”

“Um…well…” Izuku kind of liked the name by itself. Kaachan quietly piped up, suddenly much less cocky than he had been a few seconds ago.

“The Soul Hero,” he said, “The Soul Hero: Heartstring.”

“I like that.” Izuku looked at each of his friends. He raised a fist in the air, just like All Might. “I’m the Soul Hero: Heartstring!”

His friends cheered, although Iida seemed a bit despondent. Izuku would have to talk to him later. The rest of the class got up, each one sharing their name. Iida just went with Tenya. Tsu was Froppy, Ururaka was Uravity. Ashido got Alien Queen shut down, although Izuku thought that was actually kind of cool. Shoto got up finally, and with a small smile, turned his board around. 

“The Icy-Hot Hero: Frostfire.”

Oboro possibly cheered the loudest, but Izuku was right there with him. That was an amazing name! Kaachan seemed to be glaring, but Izuku could feel a little smug satisfaction coming from him.

“That is a great name,” said Midnight. “I have to ask, though, it’s sort of a repetitive thing? Icy and hot, frost and fire? Are you sure about that?”

“Yes, ma’am. Icy-Hot is the first nickname I’ve ever been given. I’d like to keep it, if that’s all right.”

Kaachan’s glare turned into open-mouthed shock. 

“I gave him…” Kaachan trailed off. Then, “You idiot! You can’t do that! It’s a stupid nickname! I’ll give you a better one if you’re gonna use it as your freaking name!”

“Too late,” said Shoto, taking his seat. “Besides, I like it.”

And that was quite possibly the first time he had shared an actual opinion with anyone aside from Izuku. Izuku couldn’t be prouder.

After class, Izuku praised his friends’ name choices. Later, he found Iida on the way to lunch. The other boy put on a happy face, or one that wasn’t as depressed as he felt. Actually, ‘depressed’ wasn’t quite right. Depressed on the surface, but a livewire of anger ran right below it.

“Iida,” said Izuku, pulling him into a side hallway. Something in his voice must have betrayed his thoughts.

“I’m fine, Midoriya.” Iida sighed. “I’m not happy about my brother being hurt, but I’m fine .”

Suddenly, Izuku remembered what had been plastered all over the news for the last several days. Ingenium had been injured, paralyzed, by the Hero Killer. No wonder Iida was angry. Izuku would be angry, too, if Keigo were injured like that.

“Don’t lie to me, Iida. You know I can tell.”

Iida wrenched his arm out of Izuku’s grip and tried to leave.

“Midoriya, I appreciate your concern, but there’s no need. I. Am. Fine .”

“Iida, wait! I lied!”

“What?”

The statement achieved exactly what Izuku had hoped. He had Iida’s full attention. He rubbed the back of his neck, a bit self-consciously.

“I…you know how I said Aizawa-sensei was kind of a family friend?”

“…yes…”

“He did know my mom, a long time ago, but I met him about a year ago. And we were almost killed.”

“You were the victim of a villain?”

“No. Well, sort of? I guess? There was an explosion. We almost died. It was a kamikaze thing. We only survived because my ghosts warned us, and we were just far enough away to not get the worst of it. And when I say ‘just far enough’ I mean that if we had been ten feet closer to the wall, we would have been vaporized with it. I don’t know if it was some sort of Quirk or an actual bomb, but either way…”

“What were you even doing in that situation?”

“I…you can’t tell anyone this, and Aizawa will probably kill me for sharing another secret, but I was recruited by the HPSC when I was four. That was my first real mission.”

“Wh-wha—you—but—“ Iida spluttered.

“I know, you probably don’t believe me. But I’m telling you this because it’s true. I know you’re angry about your brother. I would be, too. But it feels like you’re thinking about doing something…rash. And I just…I don’t want you to get hurt. You’re going to be a great hero one day.”

“Midoriya, again, I’m fine. I won’t do anything rash.”

Nothing about what Iida was saying sounded (or felt) true.

“Fine. You’re not going to do anything. But if you do…please don’t do it alone. The only reason I was ten feet away from dying was because Aizawa grabbed me and ran. Please, please, don’t do anything by yourself.”

“I’ll…keep that in mind.”

Iida left, and Izuku let him go. He knew he would blame himself for not doing more, but what could he feasibly do? Izuku took one, long, bone-deep sigh, and started toward his own lunch. Maybe he would see if Aizawa would let him eat in the teachers’ lounge. He didn’t really feel like talking to anyone.

Izuku stopped as passed the bathrooms. Someone was yelling. That was very familiar yelling. He peeked in, only to find Kaachan pinning a kid to the wall, another clutching his bleeding face. Both had tears streaming down their cheeks, one from pain, the other from fear. Izuku took a deep breath and forced the rancid emotions out.

“You think that crap’s funny?!” Kaachan demanded. His fingers sparked.

“Kaachan! What are you doing?” Izuku stepped the rest of the way in. “Let him go!”

“Yeah, Kaachan ,” the boy jeered, and Izuku was suddenly sure he had misread the situation. He helped the bleeding boy up, and handed him a fistful of paper towels.

“Go get a teacher,” Izuku said, pushing the boy out the door. 

“You hero students think you’re so great,” the boy sneered.

“We are when you act like that!” Kaachan snarled. “He didn’t do anything to you, and you just…!”

Izuku had to take a step back to deal with the intense…everything…that rolled off of Kaachan. Regret, anger, and a million other things practically overwhelmed even the smell of nitroglycerin in the air.

“Kaachan, just let him go. A teacher will be here soon.”

“He shoved that kid into the sink!”

Izuku glanced over, and there was, indeed, a great deal of blood on the corner of one sink. He raised his hands, grimacing against the sickly sweet air. The sweat on Kaachan’s hands alone told him that the other teen was downright explosive right now. It was a miracle the little palm pops hadn’t set the entire bathroom on fire. 

“Kaachan, you’re not licensed. You can’t do anything unless you want to get in trouble.”

“I won’t!” The boy declared with a wicked grin. He threw both hands at Kaachan, who caught one and narrowly dodged the other. Except…he dodged the hit, but not the hand. Izuku dashed forward, wishing desperately that one of his ghosts were here. The boy’s Quirk was something simple, possibly some type of elasticity, and his hand was right over Kaachan’s nose. In his nose. Izuku made it another step, saw the surprise and the panic. One more step, and he saw the moment Kaachan’s fight or flight reflex kicked in. One more step, Kaachan’s build up to a big blast. One more step, and Izuku yanked Kaachan away. 

Everything erupted.

—————

When a bloodied child had barreled into him, Shouta nearly dropped his coffee. It wasn’t the first time it had happened in his life, but the fear in the kid’s eyes was something else. Shouta knew he scared the general student body - first years especially - but he didn’t think he warranted this kind of look.

“S-s-sir,” the boy stuttered, pointing the direction he had come from, “b-bathrooms. Go’ bea’ up. Taku’o an’ th’ Bakugo guy an’ Mi’or-i-ya.”

Well, that was certainly enough to concern him.

“Go to Recovery Girl. I’ll handle it.” 

Hopefully he wasn’t too late—

He was.

The door blasted outward just as Shouta reached it. His back slammed against the opposite wall, and for a moment he had a horrible sense of deja vu. Then he remembered where he was. His boots slipped on ashy debris as he picked his way through the destroyed wall. Water leaked from ruined pipes and mirror shards littered the exposed parts of the floor. The ceiling was intact, at least. Bakugo would stand a very real chance of being expelled for this. The idea shouldn’t fill him with as much anxiety as it did. 

A few of the stalls were nothing more than shrapnel, but the ones on the far end appeared untouched. Same for one of the sinks. One boy quivered in the corner between the wall and the farthest stall. Shouta couldn’t see either of his boys. He took a shaky breath, and gently lifted the one boy over everything with his scarf.

“Are you hurt?”

The boy shook his head.

“Go to Recovery Girl. Wait for me there.”

Shouta hoped if (when) he found Bakugo and Izuku that they wouldn’t be in as bad of shape as he feared. He slowly shifted debris brick by brick. Other teachers were here now. Cementoss was making faster progress. He lifted one particular chunk of wall, and there they were. The amount of blood didn’t look good. Shouta didn’t even wait for Cementoss to steady the ground. He was already running. Upon closer inspection, neither looked crushed. Just burned and bloody, which was a miracle, all things considered. 

Izuku had a death grip on Bakugo’s arm, although neither seemed conscious. Shouta tried to check Bakugo’s pulse. His hand went right through him. There was that horrible, terrible deja vu again. But worse this time. Because this time, it was both of them. And how hot had it been? How bad had it been to burn Bakugo ? Or were those injuries more from the blast itself? Shouta took a breath.

“I need you both to wake up, right now,” he said as some robots arrived. The bots didn’t do anything, each flashing a message on their faces that no wounded were detected. “Bakugo! Now! Wake up, right now!”

Shouta almost let himself slump over when the explosive teen’s eyes fluttered open. He pushed himself up, arms shaking with the effort. He collapsed, this time being caught by Shouta. One of the bots expanded into a stretcher and took him.

“Sorry,” Bakugo cried, “I’m sorry ‘zuku. Don’t, please, I’m sorry.”

Izuku stirred, his eyes little more than slits.

“Kaachan, ‘s okay. He was gonna smother you.” Izuku’s words came out slurred. “Don’ worry. ‘M okay. Nothin’ broken.”

The other bot finally recognized the boy as a victim and took him away, too. Shouta sat on his knees, ignoring the glass slivers that were no doubt going to be a nightmare to remove from the reinforced fabric. Something dripped down the side of his head. He didn’t move until Nemuri took him by the shoulders and guided him away. He stumbled on almost every step through the debris field, despite it being clearer than it had been. A crowd of students were no more than another obstacle. Shouta barely registered them as people. Maybe he was concussed. That would be the preferable reason for why he felt so numb. The others were harder to deal with.

Please let them be okay , he thought.

—————

They were fine. Burned and slightly concussed, but otherwise fine. Shouta almost couldn’t believe it. He had also been concussed. And covered in blood. But all three of them would be fine, as would the boy with the busted face. The icing on the cake was that Nezu was taking care of the paperwork and the consequences. As scared as he was for Bakugo’s future, Shouta found that he was relieved by that. It was out of his hands. He didn’t have to determine anything. Usually that would bother him, but…as a teacher, he knew Bakugo’s actions would need to be taken very seriously. But as a pro hero, he couldn’t fight the thought of how similar situations had gone in the past. He couldn’t stop the relief he felt that they were alive. Bakugo probably needed extensive, specialized therapy based on what Izuku said, but he would survive.

“Ah, Aizawa, good to see you’re all right,” the principal said when Shouta entered his office. “I’ve got good news.”

“Uh-huh.” Shouta fought off a yawn. He should’ve taken a nap after being healed.

“I’ll take your lack of enthusiasm as a side effect of Chiyo’s Quirk. But you’ll be happy to hear that Bakugo will only be suspended for three days. His ability to participate in the upcoming internships will be determined by a psychologist, but otherwise he will be fine.”

“I don’t know how you do these things,” Shouta sighed, “but I’m glad you do.”

“Oh, well, this one was rather simple. Takuto’s parents were quite ready to drop the charges when they saw the footage. It appears that young Bakugo was actually defending another student.”

“I thought so. The kid ran into me in the hallway.”

“Hm, yes, I saw that as well.”

“That’s not the only reason you called me here, is it?”

“No, it’s not. We need to talk about the internships.”

“Oh?”

“I have a special case for you.”

Despite his exhaustion, Shouta grinned when he saw who it was.

—————

The number of internships available to Izuku were astounding. The list was two pages long. There were several ghost themed heroes, as well as a good portion of the top ten. Izuku grinned when he read ‘Hawks’ on the list. Ectoplasm-sensei even offered. Izuku wondered if Kaachan would be allowed to go. He had been gone for a few days, and Izuku had been told not to contact him for the duration. It sucked.

Luckily, it seemed that the streak had been broken. Kaachan sauntered in, maybe a little less energetic than usual but still himself.

“Kaachan! You’re back!”

“Yo, Bakubro!”

“Yeah, yeah, pipe down! I’m here, I’m fine, and I’m ready to choose my internship.”

“You should each consider your options carefully,” said Aizawa once he started class. “Choose somewhere you think will teach you a skill you lack.”

Most of the students moved to chat with their friends about their options.

“Who will you go with, Sho-chan?” Izuku asked, turning around so he could face him. Shoto looked a little taken off guard by the nickname, but he shrugged it off. 

“I don’t know yet. My father sent me an offer.”

“He sent me one, too,” Kaachan laughed as he joined the conversation. “I almost want to take it, just so I can flip him off in person.”

“I wouldn’t recommend that,” Izuku said. “You’d end your career before it started.”

“Maybe not,” said Shoto, a thoughtful look on his face. “It could be chalked up to being a naive, moody teenager.”

A wicked grin split Kaachan’s face.

“I have an idea,” he said. He leaned in and whispered something to Shoto, who nodded. Shoto whispered something back, and Kaachan whispered one more thing. Another nod.

“I like that idea.” Shoto turned turned to Yaoyorozu, who was chatting with Tsu and Ururaka. “Yaoyorozu, may I have a moment of your time?”

Izuku’s head whipped from one friend to the other.

“What are you doing?”

“You’ll see in a couple weeks,” Kaachan smirked. Izuku scowled at both of his friends. 

“You’re really going to make me wait?”

“Yep. Deal with it, nerd.”

Izuku huffed and went back to trying to choose his internship. Hawks was kind of the obvious choice. He had the most similar background, although nobody knew it, and he was familiar with both of Izuku’s Quirks. He could certainly learn a thing or two from the hero. But…he lived right down the hall from him. He could get advice pretty much any time.

What did he need to learn the most? To keep his mouth shut, sure. Aizawa kept muttering about it. He needed a better handle on his Quirk, the original one. He had spent most of his life with it suppressed. And that was another thing: he had to go with someone well known enough to keep him safe from the HPSC. If he went with an underground hero like he wanted to, there was a very real chance of the Commission just taking him back, and he didn’t want that.

“Um, Aizawa-sensei?” Izuku hated to wake his teacher, but he needed advice. Aizawa stretched and gave the boy a dead-eyed look as he took a sip of his jelly packet. Izuku held out his list. “I was wondering, since you know my situation pretty well, who you think I should go with?”

“You’re supposed to choose yourself, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just…” Izuku glanced at his classmates, making sure no one was listening in. Then he remembered that some of them had very good hearing. Just in case, he switched to signing. ‘I don’t want the HPSC to have a shot at me. When I’m an adult, it won’t be so bad, but right now they still technically have custody of me.’

“Oh, right. Let me see.” Aizawa skimmed over the papers. “Nighteye would be fine. Jeanist as well. Hm…actually, this one.” He tapped it. “Vispyros.”

“What.” Izuku took the pages back, and wondered how he had missed the name completely. Aizawa gave him a chuckle that could barely be described as that.

“Yeah. I actually knew him several years ago. He went by Ghost Talker back then. He can be a little crotchety, but he can probably help you with anything you need. You should probably know he hates the HPSC. He’s a part of the Hero Coalition. He’ll keep you safe.”

“Whoah, that’s so cool!” Izuku grinned. “Then that’s where I’ll go!”

“He’s based in Hosu, and he mostly focuses on reconnaissance and rescue.”

“Okay!” Izuku barely heard him as he trotted back to his desk to fill out his paper. This was going to be awesome.

—————

Chapter Text

If there were an award for not expecting things, Shouta would have won it ten times over during this school year alone. Bakugo and Todoroki had both decided to accept Endeavor’s offers. Of all the insane…what were they thinking? What was Todoroki thinking? Shouta wanted to shut it down, and make them choose someone else. He had them meet him in the parking lot before everyone else got there to leave for their internships. Well, aside from Izuku, who had been at school even before Shouta . Todoroki had a package in his hands, which he gave to Izuku. Bakugo had a matching one that he handed to Shouta.

“What’s this?”

“You’ll see.”

Shouta did not trust that smile. He trusted it even less when Bakugo elbowed Todoroki in the side and Todoroki made a matching smile. Izuku actually yelped.

“Wow! That’s like really scary, Shoto.”

“We’ve been practicing. That’s not even the best part!” Bakugo exclaimed. He and Todoroki unzipped their jackets in unison.

They both sported black t-shirts with pictures of themselves crossing their arms and standing back to back. One said said ‘Endeavor sucks balls’ and the other said ‘Screw you sperm donor’, both in the most horrible font Shouta had ever seen. After a long, careful deliberation (about three whole seconds), Shouta decided he wasn’t going to fight this.

“Whoah, how did you get Yaoyorozu to make those for you?”

“Mind your own business,” Bakugo barked, then he muttered, “I’ll tell you later.”

Then, the three boys turned to face Shouta, clearly waiting to see his reaction.

“I never saw this,” he said. The boys cheered, and the shirts were re-hidden. “Be ready to leave, just in case it goes worse than I think it will.”

“Yes, sensei.”

Endeavor probably wouldn’t try anything in the presence of other pros, even if they were his own people, but you could never be too careful.

Eventually everyone else showed up. Shouta got them organized and on their ways. He wished he could see the look on Endeavor’s face when his son showed up wearing that monstrosity. Once they were all gone, he shut himself in his office to open the gift. It was another t-shirt. On the front, it had #1 teacher/dad in flowing white script above a stylized version of his goggles and scarf. On the back was a simple quote in Times New Roman: “In my professional opinion, Endeavor does, in fact, suck balls.”  — Eraserhead”. It was the most ridiculous thing he had ever seen. It was also about to be his most favorite pajama shirt. 

—————

The shirts went over about as well as expected. Luckily, there were plenty of sidekicks, and a surprising number of them asked where they could get the ‘Screw You Sperm Donor’ shirt. Katsuki did not divulge their dealer. After that little stunt, Endeavor had confined them to their room for the rest of the day. Katsuki huffed as he tossed a pen in the air. Catch. Toss. Catch. Toss.

“I’m bored,” he said finally. 

“Get used to it,” Todoroki replied. He seemed a tad miserable, but that might have just been because of the English book he was trying to read. It looked like a book about grammar. “We have roughly three more hours of this.”

“How do you know? I thought we were stuck here all day.”

“When you get sent to your room, you get silent treatment for four hours, then training, then a meal, then more training,” Todoroki said, as if that was the most normal thing ever. “We’ll want to start warming up in two hours.”

“You want to warm up for an hour before we go?”

“It’s what Father expects.”

“Yeah? Well, he’s not my father, and I’m not doing it.”

“Maybe don’t pout in his presence. It’ll make it worse,” Todoroki added, turning his page.

“Screw him! I’m not his kid, and I’m not his sidekick. I’m a visitor, and he has to treat me like one! Same goes for you!”

“Do you really think so?” Todoroki put his book to the side.

“Uh, yah. Duh. We’re interns . And not even the official kind! This is a dip your toes in, don’t touch anything kind of deal. He can’t do anything to you. And if he does, he’ll be facing the wrath of Sensei and Auntie Inko.”

“Huh.”

“You never thought about that, did you?”

“I never thought anyone would care about that stuff,” Todoroki shrugged. He said that so casually, Katsuki almost wanted to shake the boy until his mind was set right. 

“Well, it’s a good thing Auntie is so nice! And scary. Endeavor won’t know what hit him!” Katsuki punched his palm with his fist, sparks popping. “And throw Sensei into the mix, and it’ll be a miracle if the walking dumpster fire gets out alive!”

“I don’t think they’d kill anyone.”

“You’ve never seen Auntie Inko angry.”

“Have you?” Todoroki raised a brow.

“Well, not like actually angry. Just mom-angry.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Mom-love. It’s what makes it easy to still love each other even when you hate each other.”

“You hate your mom?” Todoroki frowned.

“What? No! When I said hate I meant teenage hate, like in the movies! No one actually hates—actually, I take that back, some people do, but I don’t!” Katsuki could tell Todoroki was getting more confused by the second. “I’m not explaining this right!”

Katsuki took a breath, centering himself like Hound Dog taught him to. Once he felt like he could speak without physically attacking his friend(?), he pulled the desk chair over so he could face Todoroki directly.

“Look, Moms and Dads…they’re supposed to have this…connection to their kids. This thing that makes them want to keep them safe and happy. My mom has it, my dad has it, Auntie Inko has it. I think even Sensei freaking has it! And sometimes, there are disagreements or whatever, and it makes you think you hate each other, but you really don’t.” Katsuki ran a hand over his face. “It’s…it’s really hard to explain when you don’t know what it’s like.”

“It kind of sounds like Fuyumi.”

“Kind of.” Katsuki had heard from Izuku how the Todoroki siblings’ last meeting had gone. Katsuki tactfully did not bring up that he thought the sister was crazy. She seemed to care, but he supposed it would be hard when your father micromanaged your lives. “It’s different though.”

“Hm.” The next words from Todoroki’s mouth came totally unprompted and caught Katsuki completely off guard. “My mother poured boiling water on my face because I reminded her of Father.”

What.

…

…

“You need therapy.”

“Why?”

“You…holy crap. Okay, you know what? Therapy time. I’m teaching you everything the mutt has taught me, and you’re learning whether you want to or not.”

“That sounds like a threat,” said Todoroki, but he scooted closer. “How do you do therapy?”

“Uh, well…” Katsuki was regretting doing this now. He had never been on this side of things before. “You…talk. About your childhood, I guess. That seems like the place most problems start. Yours especially.”

“What about my childhood?”

“Uh…why do you think you turned out like…this?” Katsuki gestured vaguely toward the other teen.

“Because of my father.”

“And why?”

“Because of the way he raised me.”

Either Katsuki wasn’t very good at this, or Icy-Hot was being purposefully vague. He supposed he wouldn’t want a friend prying into his head, either, but he still had to force down the annoyance.

“And how does that make you feel?” Katsuki ground out.

“Sad, maybe. A little angry, I suppose. I wish I could have had a family like Izuku’s. I don’t want to go back to mine.” Todoroki hummed. “Maybe I should join therapy. I’m pretty good at this.”

Katsuki full out laughed. Maybe not the nicest thing to do, but he couldn’t help it. Maybe Hound Dog could help where Katsuki couldn’t, because that was definitely not what Todoroki should have thought about this experience.

“Okay, sure,” he said. “Tell Sensei, and he can get you in with Hound Dog or something. You probably should’ve been in therapy since you were little, but that clearly didn’t happen.”

“Hm.” Todoroki dug through his bag and produced a silicone ice tray.

“What’s that for?”

“Izuku gave it to me. I like making and melting frost. It’s pretty.”

“Huh.”

“It’s prettier on this than on my skin. I like seeing the green behind it.”

Okay then. Todoroki was definitely messed up. But at least Izuku had been helping. Actually, Izuku was probably helping a lot more than anyone realized. Todoroki had been more open lately. Katsuki wondered if he had been, too. But that wouldn’t be because of the nerd. No, it would be because of the mutt. Therapy was weird like that.

Nobody ended up delivering lunch, and Endeavor came to collect them for training. Maybe Katsuki had jinxed it earlier.

Chapter Text

Izuku wouldn’t lie; Vispyros maybe deserved the name more than he did. However, that didn’t stop Izuku from being a little petulant about the name not being his any more. He met the man on third floor of what looked like an abandoned building, but was actually a quite nicely furnished agency.

 Vispyros was also not what Izuku thought he would be. The lanky man had a surprisingly light suit for his line of work and a personality to match. The light blue was nearly translucent, but it had a shine to it.

“Well, hey there little buddy! You must be Izuku!”

“Uh, y-yeah. Hi!”

“So, Eraser tells me you need help learning how to keep secrets.”

“I’m not that bad at it,” Izuku pouted.

“Haha, let me guess: you’re Chandler and you’ve got a Joey at home.”

“…I don’t know what that means.”

“Man, really? Ugh, kids these days. You don’t even know quality TV.”

Izuku furrowed his brows, thoroughly confused. This whole thing was not what he had been lead to believe he was walking into. There were three other people in the room - a man and two women - as well as a couple of ghosts. Nana was there, although she was reading something over the man’s shoulder.

“Um, Aizawa said…well…you’re not like what he said.”

“Ha!” One of the women laughed. She had long, dark hair and a suit to match. “What, did he call him the world’s worst Danny Phantom or something?”

“He’s more like Nightwing,” said the man, who was pretty much translucent, except his very nice suit. “The way you pose puts those comic covers to shame.”

“Oh, come on, you know that’s just for fun!” Vispyros grinned.

“Actually, Aizawa said you were crotchety.”

“Wh - really?!” Vispyros sighed, dramatically draping himself over the man’s desk. The man nudged his leg off of the open file he wanted. “Crotchety! Me! I got stabbed . Anyone would be crotchety!”

“Oh. He didn’t tell me about that.”

“Of course he didn’t,” said the other woman. She looked completely ordinary, although her light pink hair was in an elaborate updo. It almost looked like a bunch of antennas. “He keeps things close to the vest. I’m Nishi, by the way. My hero name is Antenishi. Not super creative, I know, but not all of us can get away with renaming ourselves.”

She shot a look at Vispyros, who merely winked. Nishi rolled her eyes. The other woman flicked him in the back of the head.

“Stop flirting, Vis,” she said. She extended a hand toward Izuku, who shook it. “That’s Tsutsui Tokaji, hero name: Ghost Walker. This is Fukumoto Kijuro, who you already know is Vispyros, and I’m Fukumoto Isako, but you can call me Shade. I’m the actual leader here.”

“I’m the founder of our little operation, though!” Vispyros chirped.

“It’s all in my name, love.”

“Only because I love you so much,” Vispyros replied, crinkling his nose. 

“Uh…”

“They’re married, kid,” said the translucent man, Ghost Walker. In response to Izuku’s bewildered look, he added, “They’re playing it up. They’re drama queens, the both of them.”

“What can I say?” Vispyros shrugged. “I’m a funny guy.”

“But…” Izuku looked from Nishi to Vispyros to Shade and back.

“He’s not actually flirting,” Nishi stage whispered. “If he were, it would be much dirtier. And I’d be running for the hills.”

“Don’t forget to introduce us!” One of the ghosts said. He pretended to put an arm around Vispyros, who shot straight up and through the arm.

“Oh, yeah! I’ve gotta tell you about the ghosts! I don’t suppose Eraserhead mentioned any of that?”

“He said your name used to be Ghost Talker,” Izuku said, watching both ghosts carefully. The man was short, dark-haired, and seemed to be wearing a police uniform from at least thirty years ago. The woman had two tight buns in her dark brown hair, and wore a neatly pressed suit. 

“Well, yeah. But that was a long time ago. Once Walker started working with us, one of us had to change so we wouldn’t get confused.”

“So you’ve had the name for years, I’m guessing?”

“Yeah. Some upstart in the hero commission tried taking it, but I trademarked it!”

“Uh, yeah…” Izuku rubbed at his neck, wondering if they knew who the upstart was and if they were just toying with him.

“Why are you looking so guilty?” Shade asked, clearly teasing.

“N-no reason!” Izuku needed out of this conversation. His eyes landed on the ghosts. “Oh, right, you were introducing yourselves?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” said the man. Everyone living looked rather done with the situation, except for Ghost Talker, who excitedly started introducing his ghosts. The man was Takahara Aki, a former policeman intent on seeing the end of a Yakuza family. The woman was a former district attorney, Hattori Kyoko, who apparently had a passion for detective work that she had never had a chance to explore.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you both!” Izuku gestured to Nana. “This is Shimura Nana. She’s…well, not really my grandmother, but she’s my mentor’s mentor? I guess? So, like my Grand-mentor.”

“Ugh, you make me sound so old, green bean.”

“You certainly don’t sound old,” said Vispyros. The other living gawked at Izuku.

“You can hear them, too?” Shade asked. “Vis, he can hear them!”

“And see them,” said Izuku. He signed to Nana.

“Izuku would like to know if you want to be visible for a few moments,” Nana translated. The other ghosts took their turns gawking.

“Absolutely!” The man said. The woman nodded, somewhat hesitantly. Izuku held out his hands.

“What are you doing, kid?” Walker asked, seemingly eyeing the odd actions, although it was a little hard to tell exactly where he was looking. The ghosts took Izuku’s hands, and he poured a little energy into them. Not so much that it would exhaust him, but enough.

“Oh. My. Stars.” Nishi’s head ping-ponged between them, so Izuku knew it had worked. “You…”

“Hi!” Takahara waved. Hattori nodded at each of them. Izuku dropped it before he could get dizzy.

“I’m working on my endurance so that I can keep them visible longer. I can do four people for three minutes, or one for fifteen-ish. I can also go the other way and make myself intangible, but I’ve only done it on purpose once, and that was only for a few minutes. And it was also kind of life and death, so I still haven’t really been able to figure out how to just turn it on. Oh, and I also have a latent strength aspect that Nana’s been helping me train with!”

“Wait, that was during the sports festival, right?” Vispyros nodded as if that explained everything. “I saw that. And those people that appeared! One was a little girl, even. You know, I’ve only met a few ghosts, but you seem to know a lot of them!”

“Yeah,” said Izuku, thinking back to the scary one. He hadn’t seen head nor tail of it since, and for that he was extremely grateful.

“So, how much do you actually know about them?” Vispyros asked. The others sighed and started doing other things. “Hey, don’t be like that. I'm not that boring.”

“We’ve heard about it so many times, though,” Nishi said. 

“Fine. I’ll just take Izuku and we’ll go.” Vispyros guided him toward a bathroom. “Get changed and we’ll go patrol while we talk.”

“Yes, sir!” Izuku liked that idea. He donned his suit, which was still green despite the support course kids trying to convince him to do something else with it. He had given in when they suggested at least putting some red accents on it. His mask now had eye holes with wispy red stuff coming off of them, as well as around his neck and the middle of his chest. It maybe looked just a little like he’d been punched in the chest, but he wouldn’t think about that too hard.

Outside, Vispyros grinned at Izuku’s outfit before pressing a button on his own. It changed to a deep blue, almost black. The man pulled a hood over his head.

“So, I guess we’ll be a little like Batman and Robin today. You’ll have to learn how to move without being seen while looking like…well, that . Cool costume, though.”

“Oh, uh, thank you. I think.”

“Well, come on!”

Vispyros led the way, and Izuku followed, wondering idly if they might run into Iida.

Chapter Text

When the rat principal had invited Hitoshi to his office, he hadn’t known what to expect. Maybe some sort of lecture about not using his Quirk, like had happened in middle school. What it was actually about was the internships. As it turned out, he had not only received some offers, one of them was from a hero course teacher. Hitoshi accepted, of course. Aizawa even started the thing early so that Hitoshi could start training with a capture scarf. Which he wasn’t allowed to use.

Aizawa was…more interesting than Hitoshi had thought. Not because he had thought the teacher was boring, but he seemed like a pretty straight forward kind of guy. Like he woke up thinking:

To Do List

1. Be intimidating
2. Nap
3. Be hard on students
4. Nap 
5. Make secret plans with the rat man
6. Nap
7. Patrol
8. Liberally apply petty revenge at own discretion

In no world did Hitoshi think that this man would actually get a full night’s sleep. Well, not consecutively, anyway. It was maybe more of a full afternoon of sleep, but still. He was also taken quite off-guard by the patrol they went on. There was more than one instance where Aizawa stopped to try and pet a stray animal. It wasn’t even limited to cats, like Hitoshi had originally assumed. Any animal was game. Over the course of the last ten minutes, Aizawa had managed to befriend two dogs and a racoon. A. Freaking. Racoon. Hitoshi wondered if he maybe had a secondary Quirk.
“Um, not that I’m questioning your judgment, Sensei, but…why are we petting every animal we see? Isn’t that a distraction? And probably puts us at risk for, like, a lot of diseases?”

“You’ll see,” Aizawa replied. Yet another non-answer to a long list of questions. They continued on, finding two more cats and a bird that landed in Aizawa’s scarf and stayed there for a solid twenty minutes. Either these animals were ridiculously attached to the man, or Aizawa was part Disney princess. After the raccoon, Hitoshi didn’t know what was more likely.

The animals bolted and both humans straightened at the sound of feet on pavement. A young woman, maybe twenty years old, with large bat ears and blonde hair approached. She stumbled when she got closer, stopping to try to catch her breath. 

“Eraserhead!” She gasped. “I was hoping to…find you! There…There’s…a…”

“Take your time,” Aizawa said, appearing nearly bored.

“There’s a boy! He’s…I don’t know, he’s in this alley. He’s all bloody. He needs help.”

“Show me.” Any hint of boredom was gone. They followed the woman back the way she came. When they arrived on scene, Aizawa told him to stay back.

“I can help, you know.”

“That’s why you’re staying back,” Aizawa said. He nodded at where the woman stood, worrying her hands. “I need you to keep an eye on her. We don’t know what Quirk he has. She needs to stay back.”

The ‘and so do you’ was implied, but at least Aizawa wasn’t just brushing him off. Hitoshi did stay back, like he was told. But that didn’t stop him from watching. There was a shivering boy with dark hair at the end of the alley, half-way sandwiched between two dumpsters. The darkness hid a lot, but the moonlight shone on the dark liquid that coated him. Hitoshi watched as Aizawa coaxed the boy out. The kid couldn’t have been more than ten, based on his size. Aizawa scooped him up with his head tucked against his shoulder. Sirens sounded in the distance.

“Nighthide,” said Aizawa without turning around. Hitoshi took a moment to remember that that was his hero name. “I need you to do something, but you’re not a fully-fledged hero yet, so if you can’t do it, you need to tell me. If you need to stop in the middle of it, you have to.”
“What?” Hitoshi sighed, “If it’s a muzzle, just let me see it. I’m only triggered by them if they’re on me.”

“Wh-what?” The woman stuttered. Oops. Hitoshi had kind of forgotten she was here.

“Uh, sorry, ma’am. I don’t mean to worry you.” Histoshi moved slowly toward his teacher. “I’ll just tell you ‘voice activated quirk’ and ‘foster system’ and let you connect the dots. Don’t worry, I’m in a very good place now.”

Idly, Hitoshi wondered why he felt a need to specify that so often. Maybe it was because the situation with his mom and dad was kind of new. Aizawa pulled a flashlight out of one of his many utility belt pouches. Upon closer inspection, Hitoshi saw why his teacher might not have been able to take this off himself. There was an emergency release on this model of muzzle, but it was only accessible by shoving your finger or something thin inside the mask itself. The first time Hitoshi had worn one like this, he had to use his middle finger to get it off, but now this pinkie would barely fit.

“All right,” said Aizawa, “Your fingers are smaller than mine, and I don’t have any pens on me. In order to get this thing off, you have to–”

The click of the strap unlatching interrupted him. Hitoshi gently pulled the strap completely away from the kid’s head, then tapped him.

“Hey, kid, listen, I need you to tilt your head back as far as you can. This’ll hurt otherwise.” The kid did as he was told, angling his head until it was almost completely upside down. “Perfect. This might sting, but it won’t hurt you.”

Hitoshi pulled the mask away, revealing the hooked edge. The entire top of the muzzle curled over so that the metal would dig into your skin if you tried to pull it off. They were horribly uncomfortable. This one had blood in it already, some of it old and dried, some of it fresh and still wet. Hitoshi latched the mask again, and directed the kid’s attention to it.

“If anyone tries putting something like this on you again, put your finger in here and push until it clicks. I used to use my middle finger, but now I can do it with my pinkie. Once it clicks, do what I just did. Tilt your head way back, and sometimes it’ll even fall off on its own. It’ll help keep it from hurting you more. If you can, it helps if you lay upside down on a couch. Oh, and these are illegal, so if it happens again, get it off and find a hero or someone else who can help you find a hero.”

“Okay,” the boy’s voice croaked. He leaned into Aizawa’s shoulder just as an ambulance showed up. He dropped the boy off with the paramedics and led the woman to the police officers, and then they were suddenly on their way again.

“Are we not going to make sure that kid gets somewhere safe?”

“That’s the police force’s job. I’m not a child specialist, and I’m not a part of CPS. If there’s ever a child I’m especially concerned about, I typically contact their caseworker. For the most part, child protective services actually do their job. The workers in this city are some of the best I’ve worked with. I have no doubt that they’ll do their best to find that kid a good home.”

“...I think that’s the most you’ve ever said to me.”

Aizawa rolled his eyes, then asked, “Do you see why we stop to pet the animals now?”

“Yeah. So we know how to coax out terrified children from between dumpsters.”

Aizawa gave him a look.

“No, although it is good practice. We stop to pet the animals so that civilians know where to find us. This early in the night, there are still plenty of people out.” Hitoshi didn’t bother mentioning that it was after eleven and not that many people were out. “It also doubles as a way to encourage them to approach. This is especially important when you have an intimidating or otherwise unapproachable…aura, for lack of a better word. I’m fairly well known around here, so my costume doesn’t cause problems, but my stare or my general demeanor will.”

“Doesn’t being fairly well known defeat the purpose of an underground hero?”

“You would think so,” Aizawa smirked, “but so far? No. They know not to bother me without cause. Now, since you’ve seen this side of things, are you ready for the other side?”

“Other side?”

Hitoshi nearly screamed when one end of the scarf scooped him up and the other launched them to the rooftops.

“Why did you do that?” He gasped.

“Did you have a better way of getting up here?”

“I didn’t know we were coming up here in the first place,” Hitoshi muttered.

“Welcome to the other side of the underground, kid. This is when the darker work begins.”

That sounded ridiculously ominous, especially considering what they had seen not ten minutes ago. Over the next six hours, Hitoshi stood by and occasionally brainwashed people during four drug deals and three gang stand-offs. There were other things that happened, but most dropped what they were doing as soon as they saw Eraserhead. Hardened criminals feared the teacher, and Hitoshi no longer felt sheepish about fearing him, too. Well, not fear, not truly, but the kind of fear that’s more respect than terror.

Chapter Text

So far, training with Father had been somewhat tame. Bakugo actually seemed to be learning a thing or two, and he looked like he was actually having fun . The agency gym was lucky enough to be equipped to handle pretty much size blast and any amount of heat, so Bakugo was definitely having the time of his life while Shoto waited for his turn. After an hour or so, Endeavor threw them a curve ball.

“You’re not bad,” he said. The teens gaped at him until he made the reason for the compliment more obvious. “But you’re lacking in skills better taught by Best Jeanist.”

“What?! That’s bull crap! You can’t do that!”

“The paperwork has already been submitted and approved.”

“It’s all right, Bakugo,” Shoto said, although he wanted Bakugo to stay as much as Bakugo did. 

“No, it isn’t!”

Shoto had a feeling Bakugo wasn’t going without a fight, so he took his friend(!) by the arm and pulled him toward the door. There were a few sidekicks on the other end of the gym, so Endeavor couldn’t do much about it without raising suspicions. For now. Shoto really didn’t want to see Bakugo get hurt on his behalf.

“Look, Bakugo, it’s okay. I’ll…I’ll be fine.”

“That wasn’t the deal!”

“There is no deal. And it’s only for a week. Just go.”

“But—“ Bakugo made a growling sound, like he couldn’t understand what was going on. “Okay, fine. But text me! Every hour! Or else!”

That wasn’t much of a threat. Or else. Or else what? Shoto shrugged.

“All right,” he said. 

And with that, Bakugo stormed off. Endeavor approached, and guided him to his personal dojo, Burnin in tow. That was a little odd, but she had been shadowing them pretty much everywhere. It was fine. Great, even. Burnin was nice. Unfortunately, she took a spot in the attached observation booth rather than remaining on the floor with them.

“Take your position,” Endeavor commanded, and Shoto took his place in the middle of the mat. 

“I’m going to need a small break in an hour. Bakugo will report if I don’t text him every hour.” Shoto hoped his father would let him. He didn’t want Bakugo to get in trouble for causing problems.

“Fine.”

With that taken care of, Endeavor took his place as well. This gym reminded him a bit of the home dojo. Scorch marks on the walls, a few on the floor. Not nearly as many, though. This gym must be newer. Endeavor shifted into a ready position, and then their dance began. 

Shoto had always been put on the defensive as a child. His father expected him to fight back in order to learn, a form of throwing Shoto in the deep end and hoping he’d swim. He wasn’t able to. He learned to dodge very well by age seven. He had landed his first solid hit on Endeavor at nine. By age thirteen, he could keep pace with his father for fifteen minutes or so if he used his ice constantly and utilized all of his dodging skills.

Today’s spar was easy. Almost too easy. Well, it was a great deal more difficult than any of his peers, but it was infinitely easier than the last time he had faced Endeavor like this. It always started Quirkless, then abruptly shifted at a random moment with no warning. Except this time.

This time, Shoto could see the Quirk shift coming. Actually, now that he was thinking about it, he had been able to tell almost every move his father was about to make. He didn’t telegraph his moves like Shoto’s classmates did, but Shoto had been facing his father like this for over ten years. And now, Shoto knew what was going on. He blocked a blow to the head, just like All Might had taught them a couple of weeks ago. He threw himself back as a fireball flew where his head had just been. Then, he performed a kip up, throwing his feet over his head and doing what was essentially half of a flip to return to his original position. Endeavor seemed surprised, but kept coming. 

The ice coming from his right side was second nature, making outcroppings to hide behind and making Endeavor’s terrain more slippery. Shoto took a breath behind one of them.

“You’ve improved,” said Endeavor, obviously stalking around the room. Shoto moved silently to keep the ice between them. Silent movement had been something learned at home, but perfected over the last few weeks by Aizawa-sensei. Shoto knew he needed a lot more practice with the techniques he had been taught, but he was able to get to the opposite end of the dojo from where Endeavor was directing his words. “With a little more practice, you may be able to hold your own against me for five more minutes than before.”

That statement was oddly less threatening than usual. Maybe because Burnin was watching. Except when he glanced at the booth, she wasn’t even really looking. She was doing something on a laptop. Maybe the parenting classes that Hawks was making Endeavor take were actually doing something.

Shoto shook himself out of his thoughts. Now was not the time. When he determined it was the right moment, he shot forward on his ice, launching himself in the air. Mid-leap, he blazed his fire as hot as it could go. The edged tinged yellow, something that maybe Shoto would think about later. His father turned just in time to get a faceful of flames, and while his vision was obscured, Shoto shot his iced forward, completely encasing his father in ice. He left Endeavor’s face uncovered.

“Excellent!” Endeavor’s eyes were wild, and Shoto slowed his approach. Father should not be this happy about being encased in ice. The ice creaked, then cracked, and burst open. “A little more work, and we’ll have your fire burning brightly! Your ice will perfectly counteract your fire, and you’ll be able to sustain that for hours!”

Oh. Shoto glared. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Had Endeavor completely forgotten the declaration at the sports festival? Shoto had vowed to make his own shadow, not morph to fit Endeavor’s. 

Instead of saying anything, Shoto went into offense, actual real offense, for the first time in his life. He punched, he dodged, he kicked, he threw fire, he threw ice. Endeavor laughed as if he was having the time of his life.

“Finally! You’re showing some backbone as well! Perhaps my alma mater hasn’t gone to the dogs after all!”

Endeavor threw a giant wall of flame forward, but Shoto had been practicing his fire. He redirected it, letting it fizzle out behind him before retaliating with his own flames. When they cleared, he launched himself into the pin that Aizawa-sensei had taught them the second week of school. It was one used for opponents bigger than you. And it worked. Shoto pinned his father on the mat, and froze him once again. This time, he lowered the temperature around them until his breath came out in a fog. Father glared from his ice prison, which Shoto was steadily keeping maintained. A crack from Father’s heat, fixed in a moment. It was difficult to maintain it for so long, but he was doing it.

“I thought I made myself clear, Endeavor ,” Shoto spat. “I’m not your project any more. My Quirk is my own, not yours, and it never has been. I am going to surpass you, and I’m going to do it as myself.”

“You’ll get over this teenage rebellion soon, and when you do, you will become the masterpiece you seem intent on forgetting about.”

“What part of this do you not understand?” Shoto asked coolly. “I, a fifteen year old, have just pinned you with the part of my Quirk that you deemed only suitable to support the other part. I just held my own against you because I have been given better training, a better diet, and I wouldn’t be surprised if my social situation has somehow affected my abilities as well. My entire life is so much better without you in it. You used to be better than me because I was a child, and now? Now, I am better than you, no thanks to you .”

Shoto grinned like Bakugo had taught him to do.

“Are you ready to live in my shadow, Father?”

Chapter Text

Patrol wasn’t as eventful as Izuku thought it would be. It turned out that the Shade agency (and, yes, Izuku checked online and the name really was under Vispyros’ wife’s) micro-managed the crap out of about ten blocks. They moved every five years, helping to get the crime rate in a bad area down to a manageable amount for daylight and other underground heroes to take over larger areas. They had been in this area for almost four. Today, they had only stopped a couple of drug deals, and helped an old woman cross the street. While they walked, Vispyros told Izuku what he knew about ghosts.

“So, most ghosts who stick around didn’t die angry. The angry ones hold onto their anger for a short time, but the anger dies after a while because whatever they were angry about doesn’t usually matter any more. The sad or scared ones can act malevolent because fear isn’t as easy to get rid of. Usually these ones can find peace, but most only find it after a long time of no one bothering them. No ghost is only one thing. They all still have their own emotions still, they just have a reason to stick around.”

“Really?” Izuku had hardly blinked in the last ten minutes, he was so interested.

“The strongest ones are the ones who stay to watch over someone or something.”

“Like guardian angels?”

“Exactly. Although, what they can do seems to be limited to emotional boosts from what I’ve seen. Unlike you, I can’t see or interact with them in any tangible way, so I’m not sure how that affects their effect on people.”

Izuku snapped as an idea occurred to him.

“That’s why I can affect people’s emotions!”

Vispyros froze where he stood, nearly twisting an ankle because he was standing on a pile of half-cleared rubble.

“You can do what?” 

“Well, after what you’ve told me, and what I’ve seen, I think I can kind of make myself a ghost. Not fully, and I’m not sure if it’s because I’m alive or if it’s because my Quirk has limitations, but I can become intangible, and I can affect people’s emotions. I can’t completely change them, but I can let them…borrow an emotion for a minute. It makes me really effective for fixing people.”

“Fixing people?” Vispyros frowned as he resumed his pace. “What does that entail, exactly?”

“Just…making them feel better. I’m people-fixer junior!”

“Wait…your mom isn’t Agent M, is she?”

“Uh…Agent Midoriya, yes.”

“She has some sort of empathy Quirk, right? What did your dad have?”

“She doesn’t…her Quirk is the attraction of small objects. It’s like baby telekinesis. And even if she’s my mom, I’m adopted, so her Quirk wouldn’t affect mine.”

“Huh. That is not what the rumors say.”

“What rumors?”

Over the next five minutes, Vispyros detailed exactly what the hero world thought of ‘Agent M’. Apparently, his mother had a hybrid of two Quirks: empathy, and something no one could figure out. All they knew was that it was scary, and Mom was not someone to be messed with. Izuku couldn’t believe how far from the truth they were.

“Wow. They make my mom sound so…cool. Not that she isn’t,” Izuku waved his hands, “she’s just…you know, my mom.”

“Well, it wouldn’t hurt to ask her about those rumors.”

“I guess not.” Izuku kicked a pebble. “What do you think about–”

Izuku’s question got interrupted by a large purple…thing…crashing through the building next to them. It looked like a mutated version of the Nomu thing that had attacked the school.

“Stay back!” Vispyros yelled, but a moment too late. Izuku was already running. He dodged an arm swipe and leapt onto the creature’s back. The ghostly tendrils on this one weren’t as long as the last time, but Izuku was still able to get ahold of them. The creature thrashed, twisting wildly until the first limb gave way. Izuku grabbed another tendril. Piece by gory piece, he pulled it apart. With the last ghost freed, Izuku tried wiping the blood(?) off of his hands. It didn’t work. His costume was already covered. Vispyros gaped.

“Sorry about that. I don’t know what these things are -  I thought there was only one - but they’re absolutely full of ghosts.”

“What…”

They got further distracted by the sound of similar attacks in the distance. Izuku’s watch chimed. He had connected it to his phone for the internship. It was from Iida. And all it said was “Backup” with a pin. Izuku summoned Namura and beckoned Nana over while Vispyros was asking what was happening.

“Iida’s in trouble. Go here. I’ll be right behind you.”

“Whoah, cool your jets there, Robin. What’s up?”

Izuku dragged his mentor along as he ran.

“Iida is my friend, I told him to text me if he did something stupid. And he’s also stationed in Hosu.”

“Ah, a troublemaker, huh?” Vispyros smirked as he stopped being dragged and started running on his own. It was a testament to a pro’s willpower that he could just get passed the creature.

“Class president, actually!” Izuku kept pace with Vispyros until Nana reappeared.

“It’s the hero killer!” She yelled. Izuku signalled her to grab Vispyros when he charged her. The man yelped when Nana hovered him.

“Hang on!” Izuku activated One for All, and not thirty seconds later, the two stood in the mouth of an alley overlooking a horrible scene. Iida laid on the ground, a small pool of blood beneath him, and another pro hero in a similar position farther in. Above them stood a tall man with a long, red what looked like a raggedy scarf. Around him, several dozen ghosts of heroes hovered, yelling and screaming. Emotions roiled, and Izuku stumbled to the side, into the wall. He pressed the panic button on his watch, which would send his location to a selection of people, namely Aizawa, Mom, and Keigo. Vispyros all but disappeared into the shadows, nearing the villain.

Stain positioned himself to deliver a killing blow, having not seen the new witnesses. Vispyros surged forward with a yell, and he went down like the others. Stain turned a single creepy eye to Izuku. Without thinking, Izuku threw his arm forward, charging the entirety of the ghosts. When they realized they could touch him, the ghosts pounced. Nana and Namura ran to Izuku, who collapsed further to the ground. One by one, the ghosts lost their charge, and most dissipated. Moved on. Whatever. A few stayed, glaring at the man. Stain himself was a bloody mess.

“What was that ?” Stain glared at Izuku, who could barely move with how bad his head hurt. The boy struggled to stand.

“I won’t let you hurt them.”

“Get away, Heartstring!” Vispyros yelled. “Go get the pros! GO!”

“I’m sorry. It’s my fault you’re here.” Iida’s voice cracked. “Don’t die on my behalf, Midoriya! Go!”

“Yes, child. Run away, like the fake hero you are.”

“I’m not running,” Izuku said with a calm he didn’t feel. Honestly, he couldn’t run even if he wanted to. It was taking everything just to stay standing. Apparently, a dozen ghosts for ten seconds was too much. “I won’t let you hurt them.”

“They are fakes. That one only wants revenge for his brother.” Stain pointed with a sword.

“His name is Ingenium!” Iida yelled.

“And this one…I don’t recognize. But regardless, countless ‘heroes’ are not what they claim. They do it for the fame. For the money.”

“Okay, fine, I get it. Fake heroes, whatever. That doesn’t give you the excuse to kill them! Even if it’s just for a job, they still do a lot of good! They’re still people! It doesn’t ma–”

“You’re a true hero, aren’t you?” Stain interrupted, a note of wonder in his voice. “Like All Might.”

Funny he should choose that comparison.

“He’s insane,” Nana muttered.

“You should join me in my crusade.”

“He won’t,” a voice said behind him. Izuku turned to see Shoto. “Because he is a true hero. Unlike you.”

“Another fake,” Stain spat. Shoto threw forward iceberg after iceberg, which Stain dodged. Shoto switched to fire, which forced Stain back. Unfortunately, the fire didn’t stop the knives. One nicked Shoto’s arm, and another lodged itself in Izuku’s arm. He cried out, and fell to the ground. Suddenly, Stain was above them, sword ready to plunge into Shoto’s chest. For a single, sickening second, Izuku thought he was about to see his friend become a ghost. 

And then he grinned wildly when an explosion threw Stain into the far wall. 

“HAH! I TOLD YOU!” Kaachan’s familiar growling yell echoed in the alley. 

“Yes, I suppose you did,” a less familiar voice said. Izuku straightened, suddenly feeling a little less horrible. None other than Best Jeanist casually appeared. He manipulated threads to extract Stain from the wall and restrain him. “However, I do believe I told you not to engage.”

“HAH? Icy-Hot would have died if I hadn’t!” Izuku nearly laughed when he noticed Kaachan’s half-tamed hair. It was all but plastered to his head. 

“Kaachan! What are you doing here!”

“Saving your butts!”

“Bakugo,” Jeanist warned while stabilizing the knife in Izuku’s arm and binding the wounds of the unconscious pro that had been there the entire time.

Kaachan sighed, rolling his eyes.

“I’m here to save you,” he said in a rather robotic voice. It seemed Jeanist had been trying to teach him some manners, with at least a little success. Sirens wailed in the distance.

“Thank you for coming,” said Shoto, bowing to both Kaachan and the pro.

“It’s a good thing your friend is so headstrong,” Jeanist said. He patted Kaachan’s head, and, although he seethed, Kaachan let him. “He insisted we stay nearby, and I’m glad he did. I’m also glad you chose to send out your location, although I do have to question your selection of recipients.”

“O-oh.” Izuku shook a little. It seemed the knife wound was catching up to him. “Well, i-it’s Aizawa, and Mom, and K–uh, someone else I know. I forgot I added Kaachan and Shochan to it.”

“Well, I am glad to know you had some adults on your list.” Jeanist sighed. “It will be a while before we get medical or cleanup crews in. There were several attacks from mutated monsters throughout the city.”

“Oh, come on!” Vispyros griped. He shakily got up, as did Iida. “There’s more of those things?”

“You…fought one, already?”

“Yeah. Heartstring pulled it apart.” Vispyros gestured to Izuku. “Crazy kid rushed it before I could tell him not to.”

“Well, no duh!” Kaachan said. “One of those things attacked our class at the beginning of the school year. He pulled that one apart, too. It’s like made of ghosts or something.”

“Ghosts?” Jeanist raised a brow, casually tightening the cocoon that held Stain, who was stirring.

“Yeah. Ghosts.” Vispyros held out a hand. “Hi. The name’s Vispyros, formerly Ghost Talker. And this is Heartstring, my intern.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Best Jeanist!” Izuku bounced in place. He was already feeling so much better than he had a few minutes ago, despite the knife in his arm. Jeanist stopped him.

“Don’t do that. You’ll make the knife move.” He turned to Vispyros. “I do have to question what you’re doing here. I was under the impression that your unit was cleaning up a very small area. This is quite a ways away, is it not?”

“I…I texted for backup, sir,” said Iida, holding his arm, which had also been stabilized by Jeanist’s fabrics.

“As you should have,” Jeanist replied with narrowed eyes. Izuku hoped he didn’t pry, at least not right now. The man turned to Shoto. “How quickly can you melt this ice?”

Shoto melted it instead of answering, and the temperature of the alley rose by a few degrees. Izuku began to lean over, and Vispyros and Kaachan took to either side of him.

“Very good.” Jeanist turned to Iida. “Why were you here with Native?”

“Well, sir, I–”

“Wait. Do not answer yet. Why was Native here?” 

“He was protecting me from Stain.”

“Is he your mentor?”

“No, sir. Manual is.”

And, speak of the devil, Manual appeared around the corner.

“Tenya, there you are!” Upon seeing the other pros and students, Manual stopped dead in his tracks. “What on earth is going on? Is…is that Stain ?”

“Yes, sensei, and I apologize for–”

“That’s enough.” Manual looked at Jeanist. “Do you know what happened?”

“I was just asking him. It seems that Native was protecting him, and he was just going to explain why he needed protecting in the first place. Weren’t you?”
“Um…yes…sir…?” Iida cleared his throat. “I got cornered by Stain, and Native saw–”

“Getting help, isn’t that right?” Manual interrupted. “And you probably got lost. You’re not from around here, after all, and I’m sure that these roads got you turned around and this won’t happen again, right? ”

“No, sir,” Iida said with all the guilt a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar would have. He shrunk under the gazes of all three pros.

Finally, some ambulances arrived. They took Native first, then it was Iida and Izuku’s turn. Just as Izuku was clumsily climbing into the ambulance, an inhuman screech rang out. One of the purple monsters swooped down on bat wings, grazing a few heads, and the next thing Izuku knew, he was in the sky. They seemed to be going straight up. He could hear Kaachan’s explosions below them. Numbly, Izuku realized that the creature’s talons had punctured him worse than the knife had, and in the torso as well. It was so much blood.

“Well,” he said softly as he took some ghostly tendrils in hand, “If I’m going down, then I’m taking you with me.”

He pulled, and pulled. Nana caught up to them and pulled as well. Arm. Leg. Three ribs. And then…wings. Izuku couldn’t pull any more. The creature plummeted, its talons freeing themselves from his torso. He used the last of his energy to charge Nana. Maybe he would make it to the ground. Maybe he wouldn’t die. Or maybe he would have to start haunting his friends. Izuku’s eyes closed, feeling the wind rushing through his hair. Then, something loud, and solid. Then more loud stuff, and by then he was too numb to feel anything else.

Chapter Text

The aftermath of what everyone was calling ‘the Hosu Incident’ had heroes rushing in and out of the hospital. Shouta had received several calls from various heroes, informing him of his students’ involvement. So, with Shinsou in tow, he travelled to the hospital in Hosu. He left his intern with Jeanist in the lobby and made his way up to his problem children’s room. He passed Tsukauchi on his way. The detective gave him a solemn nod, but neither was in the mood to stop.

There were four beds, two on either side of the room, and each of them held one kid. Bakugo seemed fine. He didn’t even have a hospital gown. Iida had an arm in a sling, as did Todoroki. Midoriya was in the worst state. Bandages covered most of him, peeking out from under the hospital gown. One arm was in a sling, and one bandaged leg was propped on pillows. He seemed to be asleep.

“So,” Shouta said, taking a seat in one of the visitors’ chairs, “who wants to tell me what happened and why?”

Shouta had already heard as much from Jeanist and Vispyros, but he wanted to hear it from them. All three started speaking at once. Shouta put a hand up, and they all quieted. He considered for a moment who would be able to answer best.

“Iida. Explain.”

“It was all my fault,” he said. “I…I let my anger consume me. I…went looking for Stain. I never should have done that, and I promise, sir, I have learned! I will never—“

“That’s enough. I don’t want to hear it. If you’ve learned, then do better.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Todoroki.”

“I received Izuku’s location pin, to which I responded. My father gave me permission to use my Quirk against any adversaries I encountered, and was supposed to be right behind me. I assume he encountered another Nomu.”

“You assume right. Continue.”

“I arrived on the scene, where Iida and Native were out of commission, and Izuku was facing off against Stain, who was covered in blood. We proceeded to fight. Then Bakugo showed up.”

“And then that stupid Nomu shows up!” Bakugo added. “It grabbed Izuku like he was a freaking rag doll!”

“And then you blasted it,” Shouta finished. Bakugo gave a satisfied grin. “You all realize how badly this could have turned out, don’t you?”

That wiped the smile off of Bakugo’s face. They each glanced at Izuku’s bed. The boy hadn’t even stirred. Shouta had actually heard very little about it all. Vispyros had done nothing but sit in a corner of the waiting room, face in his hands, when Shouta got there. Didn’t even acknowledge him. Jeanist had escorted him to the door, and had told him nothing more than that Izuku had woken for only a moment to insist he be in a room with his friends. 

“You’re all lucky.” Shouta looked each of them in the eye. “You’re lucky to be alive. And you’re lucky that Jeanist was there to take the credit.”

“Hah?!” Bakugo’s hands popped with tiny explosions.

“The only one who had permission to act was Todoroki,” Shouta said harshly. “And even then, that puts him on thin ice. Not a single one of you should have engaged. And, no , Bakugo, that doesn’t mean I wanted you to stand aside while Stain killed people. But none of you should have been in that situation to begin with, and now your friend is in a mini-coma because of it.”

“But, Sensei…” Todoroki’s brows furrowed. “I thought that was because of the Nomu, not from facing Stain.”

“Todoroki,” Shouta sighed, “that’s not the issue. It doesn’t matter what caused it, just that it happened because you were all reckless.”

Two of the boys looked like they wanted to argue, but they kept their mouths shut. Shouta was a little relieved about that. He didn’t want to argue, and he didn’t want to shut down any more arguments. He was tired.

“Iida, Bakugo, your parents will be here soon. Todoroki, I’ll be taking you home. Izuku will stay here until he wakes up.”

“Is Inko-san coming?” The boy asked.

“She’ll get here when she can.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?” Bakugo looked from Shouta to Todoroki and back. “What do you mean, ‘oh’? It’s Auntie Inko! Of course she’s going to be here! Why wouldn’t she?! And why wouldn’t she get you, too?”

“She has a sensitive case she’s been working on that we’re not allowed to know about,” said Todoroki, helpfully. Shouta gave him the most done look he could muster. He didn’t think he could get any more exasperated. That statement had effectively proved him wrong. “What? I don’t even know what it is, so it’s not like I can divulge some secret.”

“Just…get your stuff.” Shouta pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’ll leave once everyone else has.”

The Bakugos and Iida’s mother arrived at the same time. Few words were exchanged, but Mrs. Iida placed a hand on his arm as she left. She told him to come by and visit Tensei one of these days. Shouta had meant to. Just hadn’t had the time. When the Bakugos left, Shouta stopped his student in the hall.

“I’m not praising you,” he said, “and don’t take this as approval of your actions. But…you did well. I saw footage of you catching Midoriya. That was great use of your Quirk.”

“Thank you, sensei.” Bakugo’s reply was subdued, and a good thing, too. “Did you…did it…when you got his location pin, did…”

“It killed me not to be able to respond. I’m glad someone could.”

Bakugo’s parents were waiting by the elevator, and Shouta felt less awkward than he probably should have when Bakugo leaned into his chest.

“I thought he was gonna die. I thought they were all gonna die,” the boy whispered, slowly fisting his hands in Shouta’s shirt. Then he chuckled as he added, “I can’t be number one if there’s no two, or three.”

Shouta placed a hand in Bakugo’s hair, ruffling a patch that was plastered with hairspray for some reason. 

“Well. Stick by them. You’ll need each other one day.” Shouta only hoped that they wouldn’t need each other like Nemuri, Hizashi, and himself had needed each other. 

“Are you kidding?” Bakugo pulled away, some of his spitfire attitude coming back. “They need all the help they can get! I’m gonna have to pick up their slack.”

“Go on,” Shouta nodded to his parents. 

Bakugo gave him a hard grin and left. Shouta returned to the room, feeling oddly empty. He…didn’t really want to be alone with his comatose student. Not that he would be, Todoroki was still there. But the boy wasn’t exactly a conversationalist, and the silence might just be too much now. To his surprise, though, Yagi was already in place next to Izuku’s bed, flipping through the pages of a book. A pair of glasses sat on his thin nose.

“Ah, young Aizawa. Good to see you. I hope I’m not intruding.”

“You’re fine.” He took the chair next to Todoroki’s bed. “We’ll wait until Inko gets here, and then head out, Todoroki.”

“Shoto.” Both heroes looked at the boy with his arms curled around his knees. “Call me Shoto, please.”

“Ah, is that request for both of us, or just Aizawa?”

“Both.”

Shouta nodded while Yagi sputtered.

“I’m quite honored, young To-uh, Shoto . Um….”

Shouta decided a nap was in order, and settled himself in. Inko wouldn’t be here for a few more hours.

—————

When the purple warp Quirk took Inko, she was in the middle of making herself a light meal after dealing with a mass hysteria Quirk. The Commission had dispatched her, and then she got news that Izuku was in the hospital. Again. She was going to make a sandwich, and eat it on her way there.

The warp Quirk deposited her in the middle of a dingy room.  A game console sat underneath a coffee table with a TV on it, the screen doing little to dispel the darkness. A video game’s loading screen flashed different symbols and tips. Mold(?) dotted the edges of the ceiling. The bed, which Inko had been deposited on, now had a generous helping of mayonnaise on it. Not that the bed could get any grungier. It kind of smelled like the sheets hadn’t been changed in a while . Inko dropped the mayo covered butter knife from her hand. The game loaded the next screen, and the room flooded with light. Shigaraki sat with a controller in one hand and the other around his knees.

“Hello, Tenko. I’m sorry about the mess.”

“Do not worry about it,” Kurogiri said as he materialized. “We have been rather busy, and they are long overdue for a wash.”

“They’re not that bad,” Shigaraki muttered. He tossed his controller on the floor. He looked tired. Inko moved to sit next to him. Truthfully, the young man didn’t smell much better than his sheets. He needed a bath, and a nap. Kurogiri took the sheets and promised to come back soon. 

“So. Why am I here?”

“I…” Shigaraki swallowed, idly scratching at his neck. That wouldn’t do. Inko pulled his hand away by the wrist, and Shigaraki’s head whipped around so fast she thought he might have hurt himself. “You just…you’re not…”

“I’m not afraid that you’ll hurt me,” Inko said, even if she was a little. Shigaraki wasn’t exactly known for a stable mental state. But when he looked at her like she had just hung the stars in front of him, she couldn’t help but think of a child. Shigaraki took a shaky breath.

“I…hurt your son,” he said quietly. Inko tensed. “I sent a Nomu after him. The Nomus were supposed to get him. Sensei said we need him, since he might have All Might’s Quirk. It’s…important, apparently.”

Inko said nothing. She thought nothing. What could she think? Izuku was hurt, and it was Shigaraki’s fault.

“He faced Stain, too. I was supposed to recruit them both.” Shigaraki’s face twisted into a grimace. “I failed. Sensei isn’t going to be happy.”

“And are you happy?” Inko’s voice grew cold. “Are you happy that you hurt my baby, and probably his friends, too? Children who have done nothing to you?”

Shigaraki frowned. 

“Does them being children change something?”

“It changes everything!” Inko snapped, any fear of death momentarily gone. “They are children . They haven’t had time to do anything with their lives, and even if they had, they’re not…they don’t always know what they’re doing! And you’re, what? Just following orders? My son is hurt because of you .”

“Agent Midoriya, before I met you, I thought everything made sense. Sensei always does what’s right for me. Always. And then you…you were so…kind? But more than that. You cared. ” Shigaraki paused. He looked to her like a child looking for approval. “Today…I watched. I saw. I…it hasn’t bothered me since I was a kid. I’ve killed people for Sensei, and felt nothing. But today, I remembered. I didn’t always feel nothing . The first time, Sensei had to force me to touch them. I didn’t…Stain asked me what I stood for. What I believed in. And when I answered, all I could hear was Sensei. ‘Sensei said’. I…I don’t want what he wants any more. I watched what that Nomu did, what I commanded him to do…and I cared .”

It nearly broke Inko’s heart to see the tears tracking down the young man’s face, but her own unshed tears for her child tempered that feeling.

“I want out, Midoriya. I don’t want to do this any more.”

“And what happens then?” Inko asked. “Is your Sensei just going to give up?”

“You said you would help me.”

“And I also said I wouldn’t tolerate you hurting the things I care about, my son being one of them!” Inko stood. “I may believe in second chances, but a second chance doesn’t give you permission to do whatever you want.”

“So, you won’t help me.” Shigaraki let out a dry laugh. “I should have known.”

“I didn’t say that,” Inko replied. Shigaraki wasn’t looking at her, so she gently turned his face, fighting the urge to grab him and force him to look. “A second chance can be given. I tried giving you one, and you didn’t take it. That was your choice, and these are the consequences. A third chance has to be earned. So what will you do to earn it?”

“I…” Shigaraki was more than bewildered by the sudden turn. Clearly, he had been expecting complete rejection. 

Kurogiri made himself known. He handed Inko her butter knife, newly cleaned. He also offered her a sandwich. She thanked him, and turned back to Shigaraki.

“Whatever you do, do it soon. If you really want my help now, I don’t want to leave you in this situation any longer than I have to. Mr. Kurogiri, if you will please take me back home.”

“Actually, I had a different idea,” he said, his deep voice sounding just a bit threatening, despite his casualness. Luckily, before Inko’s growing horror could fully bloom, the misty man surprised her with something that was actually quite kind. “I have taken the liberty of transporting your car already. You will be dropped off approximately a thirty minute drive from the hospital your son is at. And I apologize for taking you from the Hero Commission’s kitchen. I did not think you would appreciate being taken from your home.”

“You couldn’t have taken her from there even if you wanted to,” Shigaraki snorted. 

“True enough, child.”

“Why not?”

“He needs coordinates,” Shigaraki said, picking his controller up and starting his game again. Inko couldn’t help but notice he held his pinkies out. “He can’t teleport to somewhere he doesn’t know the coordinates for. Is that a good enough start for a third chance, Agent Midoriya?”

The tone he used seemed flat, almost uncaring, but the feeling behind the words couldn’t have been more obvious. Inko almost smiled.

“It’s…a start.”

Kurogiri teleported them. Her car was in an abandoned part of town that had barely been cleaned up. 

“Thank you,” he said.

“For what?”

“For helping him. I understand your position, and I understand your feelings about your son. I cannot say I do not feel similarly for him.”

“I can’t just ignore when someone needs help.”

“All the same. And I have something for you.” Kurogiri produced something from a pocket. It was small, and black, with a lid that flipped open to reveal a button. “Due to my creation, and the Quirks involved, I will not always be able to communicate like this. I may be commanded to do something contrary to Tomura…to Tenko’s wishes. If our master commands me, I must obey. Today is the most free from our master that I have been in years. It took great lengths to make this without his knowledge. By pressing this button, you will render me useless.”

Inko gently took the button.

“Please take care of Tenko, should I perish.”

“From one parent to another, I’ll do my best.”

They both knew that there were other factors, ones that Inko couldn’t control. But she couldn’t ignore someone who needed help.

Chapter Text

Endeavor did not want to be here. He did not want to be crammed into a tiny desk. He did not want to be covered in bandages from fighting those stupid Nomu. He did not want to be surrounded by idiot parents. He did not want to listen to this buffoon of a teacher. He had more important things to be doing, but unfortunately this was required if he wanted to get Shoto back into his care.

“Now, when a child sets a clear boundary, what do we do?” The man, Fu-something, looked at each of the parents in turn. There were three civilians, two unknown heroes, and Endeavor himself. They all remained silent. The teacher soldiered on. “First, let’s talk about the boundaries. There are boundaries that you set, which most people refer to as rules. These can be things like curfews, or doing chores, or staying out of Mom and Dad’s room. So, let’s talk about when the child sets a boundary.”

Endeavor wasn’t allowed to sigh out loud during this. The first and last time he had, it had scared the other parents and earned him a lecture. Him ! The number two hero in Japan! And it was always framed like it wasn’t a punishment. Let’s talk about this! Let’s talk about that! This whole thing was a punishment.

“When a child sets a boundary, it can look like ‘Get out of my room!’ Or ‘Leave me alone!’ Now, I understand that children are not mentally or emotionally mature enough to know exactly what boundaries are okay to set. That’s where you are supposed to come in as parents.”

Okay, this actually sounded pretty promising. The first two classes had been about ‘feeling things’ and ‘expressing emotion’ in a ‘healthy way’. Finally they were getting into relevant things.

“A child should be allowed to set a boundary that does not hurt themselves, or others.”

“What if they try giving themselves a different curfew?” One of the civilian fathers piped up.

“Good question!” No it wasn’t. “That’s another part of it. If you set a boundary, and they try to bend or break that with their own, then it’s okay to tell them no. Now, I want you all to look at me, pay attention!”

As if he wasn’t already paying attention.

“ Your boundaries need to be pre-established. You cannot expect them to follow something they didn’t know about. And you also need to make sure that those boundaries are fair and respectful. One way to assure this is to talk with them, and work with them. Think about it a little like working with someone else. If you’re working at a job, and you’re the manager, what’s something you would require to keep the business running?”

“People coming in on time,” said the civilian woman in the pressed suit. Endeavor was tired of hypothetical questions. The first day was almost entirely hypothetical questions. 

“Yes! Now, imagine you have a worker that’s always late, by about ten minutes. Every day! What would you do?”

“Fire her,” the woman said immediately, and Endeavor inwardly agreed.

“Okay, that’s one way to do it. But let’s say you pull her aside, and you tell her she can’t be late again. Then, you find out she’s coming in late because she has to drop her kids off at school. Instead of firing her and losing a hard worker, you work with her, and shift her schedule by half an hour. Now, she’s happy, and she’s working with you instead of against you. Now, let’s say that you have another worker who keeps leaving early. What do you do?”

“Talk to them,” she said with exasperation that Endeavor felt in his soul . 

“Yes! And you find out that they’re leaving early so they can get home in time to watch their favorite show.”

“Let me guess,” the woman continued, “we shift his schedule a half an hour earlier.”

“No, actually,” what’s-his-name chirped, bouncing on his feet. “We tell him that he needs to stay as long as he is scheduled. Can anyone tell me what the difference between those situations is?”

The mousy looking man with the whiskers who kept scribbling down notes raised his hand.

“One is a need, and the other is a want?”

“Yes! Very good.” The teacher wrote ‘need’ and ‘want’ on the board. “So, if your child keeps bending or breaking a rule, such as curfew, what should you do?”

“Ask why,” the mousy man said. Stupid teacher’s pet. Fitting, though.

“What if they tell you that curfew is unfair, and they want to stay out with their friends later?”

“That’s…a little complicated, isn’t it?” One of the heroes asked. “Curfews are for safety, but you said last time that we shouldn’t stop them from having a social life.”

“Yes, that’s true. This would actually be a good way to open a discussion into it. Consider factors like age, maturity, and schedules. You do need to prepare them for the freedom of adulthood, especially teens, but you also need them to be healthy. If their curfew is currently 9:00, but they are in their mid-teens, you may consider extending it to 9:30 or 10:00. You could also compromise, and set a later curfew on weekends but keep it the same on weekdays.”

This was a stupid, pointless discussion.

“Some rules, like curfew, you can add conditions to. For instance, ‘if you keep your grades up, your curfew can extend to 10:00.’ You can do this with many other rules as well. The only rules you should not do this with are the ones regarding their immediate safety.”

“What about their rooms?” The third civilian asked. “I’m the one that pays for the house, so it’s technically my room, but they want to keep me out of it.”

“Ah, so that’s something that’s a little different depending on the family. You should respect their space, but you can add things for their safety.”

That wasn’t really an issue at the moment.

“My daughters, for instance, aren’t allowed to close their doors unless they’re changing. However, they are only 5 and 7, respectively. It’s a safety issue if we can’t see or hear them. When they become teenagers, that rule will change to be that they aren’t allowed to close the doors if someone is in there with them. It’s also a little different from family to family. Once you’ve built a relationship with them, sit down with them and talk about what will work for both of you. And yes , you may need to compromise with a child . That doesn’t mean you're any less of an adult. It just means that you will be teaching your child how to function with other people.”

“And what happens if they want nothing to do with you?” Endeavor found himself asking. It was the first thing he had asked in this class.

“Well, that leads back to building the relationship, like we touched on last time. Respecting boundaries is a good first step for many of you.”

The thirty eight unread messages on Endeavor’s phone felt a little heavy all of the sudden. 

“Now, that’s all we have time for today, but next time we’ll really delve into how to build those relationships with your children!”

Outside, Endeavor took in the cool evening air. The civilian woman in the suit approached him. He barely gave her a glance.

“This class seems like bull crap,” she said, staring at the sunset.

“Hm.”

“I wouldn’t think the number two hero would need it, though.”

“I wouldn’t think so, either.”

“So, what’d you do to get here?”

Endeavor almost didn’t answer. But he recognized this woman now. She was a CEO that his agency had investigated a few months ago, and it struck him now how blind he had been at the time. She had raised her daughter to be the same as her in every way. Tried to make her daughter into the same person she was. That was what Endeavor had been doing to Shoto, wasn’t it? 

“I apparently pushed my son too hard.”

“Ah. So, like me, then. Except, you know, you’re a hero.”

“He told me he was going to cast his own shadow, and make the world forget me.”

“Huh. Sounds like a boundary to me.”

“Barely.”

“Yeah, but he probably needs a break from you. And some understanding. You royally screwed him up, didn’t you?”

“What is your aim with these—“

“Hey, relax. I’m not judging. And even if I was, you could judge me just as harshly. I’m just saying these things for your benefit. Sometimes, an outside perspective helps. It’s why I haven’t quit these classes yet. I’m good at figuring out other people and their relationships, but when it comes to mine, I’m blind.”

Endeavor sighed. “You may…have a point.”

“Hm. That ‘revelation bug’ hit you today, didn’t it?”

“What?”

“You realized that you did something wrong, even if you don’t know exactly what it was. But, hey, at least you’re trying,” she shrugged as she sauntered away. 

His driver pulled up, and Fuyumi stuck her head out of the car. She had been ‘picking him up from school’ since she found out he was coming to these things.

“Hi, Father! Did you learn anything today?” She asked. 

Endeavor shook his head. Not really, but…He didn’t know what it was - the cockiness, the candor, or whatever - but something about how that woman spoke about him was…eye opening, perhaps? In truth, he hadn’t been trying before. He had been attending these classes because of Hawks. But maybe he had learned something after all. He cared about his kids, really he did, but none of those hypothetical questions were ever relatable. And maybe that was because he didn’t care about the right things. It was certainly something to think about. Not that he had ever been wrong, but…maybe he could shift his priorities, a little bit, to…ensure his future legacy. He didn’t want to be forgotten, after all.

Chapter Text

“Shoto, are you ready for school?” Inko-san called down the hallway. “We need to leave in five minutes, and you still haven’t had breakfast!”

“Coming, Inko-san!”

“Dear, I’ve told you, just ‘Inko’ is fine,” Inko smiled as Shoto rushed by. He shoved a piece of toast in his mouth, then paused because…wow. Toast with strawberry jam was…just…wow. And for breakfast, no less. This for sure would have been dessert at Endeavor’s house. Inko laughed, “It’s the first day back, you need more than that!”

Shoto grabbed a few jelly packs out of the cupboard and Inko shoved some granola bars and a Gatorade into his hands as they made their way out the door.

“As much as I appreciate Shouta providing those things, they are not meal replacements, Shoto.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh, don’t call me ma’am, that makes me feel so old.” 

Shoto liked Inko’s face. It was a kind one. The corners of her eyes were perpetually crinkled, even when she wasn’t smiling. It was like her smile just couldn’t disappear, no matter how tired or upset she was. Even today. Shoto was going back to school, and Izuku had only just woken from his mini-coma. They had at least transferred him to a nearby hospital, so Inko could spend the days with him. Shoto hadn’t been able to visit much, but it was fine. It was completely fine. Izuku would come home in the next few days, and it will be fine. 

In class, everything felt…the same. It was weird how normal it all was. Izuku’s seat was still empty, though. Bakugo still had a few bandages around his head. When he had caught Izuku, he had slowed their descent with explosions that threw debris into the air. He’d ended up giving himself a concussion. Best Jeanist had not seemed very happy after that.

“All right, everyone take out a pencil,” Aizawa said. “You’re all taking risk assessment tests. I’ll be grading you all on your abilities to recognize when to and when not to face a villain while you are still students. Probably should have done this before you left, but now that you’ve had the experience, you should be well equipped to answer. You have until tomorrow afternoon to work on it.”

He passed out packets to everyone individually, rather than having them take one and pass it. All of them were hefty looking. Bakugo’s seemed to be the thickness of a small novel - which the boy was…happy about? He still acted angry, but the sadistic grin on his face when he glanced at Shoto belied that. Shoto’s was only a little smaller, and Iida’s was perhaps the largest. The questions didn’t seem too hard. There were some questions that were very obviously about the incident with Stain. Shoto answered them all easily. Should he have brought a pro hero with him? Yes, but none were available to him. Endeavor and Burnin had both been occupied by the Nomu. He also had had no way of knowing what he was getting into.

The next questions were a little harder. How far is too far when training as an intern? Shoto didn’t know. That question was so vague. Training what? Where? He decided to skip that one and ask Aizawa on the ride home. What does permission to use your Quirk mean? It meant that he had permission to use his Quirk, didn’t it? Shoto sighed. He didn’t like this test.

The bell rang, and Shoto packed his things. The next class periods passed quickly. Those questions kept his brain occupied through all of them, and through getting his lunch. Suddenly, the test questions didn’t matter as much when Shoto realized that Izuku still wasn’t here. Shoto always sat with Izuku at lunch. He could maybe sit with Ururaka or Iida, but Ururaka kept demonstrating the skills she had learned at her internship. Meaning, she kept air-chopping like Iida, except she had managed to actually hit things. Granted, ‘things’ seemed to be mostly Mineta, but Shoto didn’t want to risk it. And Iida…he was busy trying to get through that packet. While Shoto was sure Iida wouldn’t hate if he joined him, he didn’t want to intrude. Honestly, he felt that way about pretty much everyone. They wouldn’t hate him, but he wasn’t sure they liked him enough to hang out without Izuku.

“Oi, Half-and-Half!” Bakugo yelled with his mouth half full. He gestured to the empty seat next to him. “You gonna sit or not?”

“Uh…yeah.” Shoto took the place, and fought to keep the smile off of his face. He wondered if Bakugo knew how much that one little gesture meant. Probably not, but it made him happy, nonetheless. 

The group that usually surrounded Bakugo was large, and loud. Ashido and Kaminari didn’t seem to know what ‘inside voices’ were. On the bright side, the only one that tried talking to him directly was Kirishima, and it was all simple questions with simple answers. 

At one point, it felt like someone was watching him. He casually glanced around, but didn’t see anyone actively looking at him. The feeling lingered. He shook his head and stretched back, trying to release the tension that had been building for the last few minutes. It was probably nothing. Just something in his brain that had changed since Stain had…well, nevermind. He had been right. Aizawa-sensei was watching. From the rafters. The ceiling was high enough up that no one ever looked at it, and it seemed his teacher had taken full advantage of that fact. Shoto pulled out his phone.

Me

Hello sensei

Dadzawa

Hello

Me

Why are you in the rafters?

Dadzawa

Why wouldn’t I be?

Me

Fair enough. Enjoy.

…

Do you know how to change a name on a phone?

I would like to change one.

Dadzawa

Yes. Bakugo knows how as well, and you’re sitting right next to him.

Me

He is the one who changed the name in the first place.

I don’t think he’ll change it again.

Dadzawa

Who did he change?

Me

You. It says Dadzawa at the top of my screen.

Don’t worry.

I was going to change it back to Aizawa.

Dadzawa

…

It’s fine. You can leave it if you want.

Me

If you’re sure.

Also, I have questions about that packet.

On number ten, what training is it talking about?

There was a long pause, and then Aizawa texted back that they could talk about it on the way home. Shoto shrugged inwardly. That had been the original plan, but he thought maybe he could have gotten a jumpstart. The bell rang once again, and Shoto followed his classmates to the next class.

—————

“Hizashi.”

Hizashi looked up from his grading, as did several other teachers in the room. It was the first day back, and most of them had assigned something. The weird thing was Shouta coming in at the end of the day, looking a tad shell-shocked.

“What’s wrong, young Aizawa?” Yagi asked. 

“Have any of the kids called you dad?”

“Oh, a few times,” Hizashi answered as stretched the stiffness out of his back. “It’s accidental. But what’s that got to do with anything? Even you have been called dad a few times over the years.”

“Hm.” Shouta flopped onto the couch, face down, ignoring that his legs ended up trapping Snipe, who glared briefly and went back to inputting grades. “Todoroki said he wished I was his dad.”

“What?” That got everyone’s attention back on the man. 

“You know the whole thing with him and the Midoriyas. I assigned packets about their internships, and he asked for help. Apparently, the questions were too vague. I clarified some for him on his way home. And then, he said… that .”

Hizashi abandoned his grading and leaned over the back of the couch.

“And… that… upset you?”

“No,” came Shouta’s muffled response. Several teachers snickered. Yagi decided to be helpful and prod him.

“So, did he mean he wished you were actually his father, or he wished you were like his father?”

The number of looks Yagi got should have concerned the man, but he seemed to not notice them. Shouta levelled a glare at his friend.

“Remember who his father is and tell me what you think.”

Yagi chuckled.

“Young Aizawa, I merely wanted you to think about it. You have a student who looks up to you as a father figure, and a good one at that. You shouldn’t be upset that you care about the child.”

“I care about all of them,” he growled into a decorative pillow. “This is…different, somehow.”

“Aw, Dadzawa found himself a kid,” Nemuri cooed. “Well, another one at any rate.”

“Now, now, Miss Midnight,” said Yagi, “I think you’ll find that the first one is shared custody. This one is different because he has full custody.”

Shouta threw the pillow so it hit the other man square in the face. 

“Shut up.”

“You know full well that we share custody of young Midoriya,” Yagi continued, brushing dust off the pillow and tossing it back. If it weren’t for the mischievous smile, Hizashi might think the man was serious.

“We are not divorced parents. We have no legal custody of any children.”

“I’m not talking about legal, I’m talking about emotional,” Yagi said matter-of-factly. “Emotionally, you have two full time kids, and eighteen partial—“

The pillow hit him again. Hizashi had to laugh. 

“Hey, by the way, how is the little kidlet doing? Kinda missed him in class today.” 

“He’ll be out of the hospital tomorrow morning and back at school the next day.”

“Well, that’s mighty nice and all,” said Snipe, “but will you get your legs off me? They ain’t s’posed to be there in the first place, and they’re gettin’ rather heavy.”

Shouta sat up.

“Thank you kindly.”

“Seriously, though,” Yagi said as he went back to what he was doing, “don’t fight it. Young Todoroki needs someone to be there for him, and it seems he’s decided that person is you .”

Shouta ran a hand over his face, and Hizashi took the opportunity to start them walking to the car.

“I’m not upset, Hizashi.” Shouta looked over his shoulder while keeping his pace. “I just don’t want to disappoint him. It was different when he didn’t want another father figure. Now he does, and I don’t want to mess him up.”

“Heh. Don’t worry so much. You’re already better than Endeavor ever was, and he’s in a loving home with the two nicest people in existence.”

“Better doesn’t mean best.”

“No, but…I think you’re exactly who he needs. You’re not there all the time, but you’re there when it counts. He would probably have a lot more issues if he had a father figure in the home with him.”

“Yeah, issues that aren’t going to be addressed.”

“They will be if you let Hound Dog help him.”

Shouta sighed, slipping into the driver’s seat.

“You know, that’s almost exactly what Bakugo said after class today. Did you know he changed my name in Todoroki’s contacts to ‘Dadzawa’?”

“Pfft. That’s hilarious! I love it!”

“Hm.”

Chapter Text

Most of Shouta’s students had done surprisingly well with their risk assessment packets. Tsuyu’s actually rivalled the top scores in the class, and Iida’s was not only well thought out, but rather apologetic. Shouta didn’t think the boy would pull a stunt like that again. Probably. Somewhat surprisingly, Bakugo’s was by far the best. With his general attitude when sparring, and just in general, Shouta had thought there would be more impulsive answers. Izuku’s was the last he graded, and his was…Shouta knew Izuku was a little impulsive, but this was just ridiculous. Don’t get him wrong - the risk assessment was well written, and extremely extensive. Each question had at least one page, front and back, to go with it. Almost every answer could be boiled down to: ‘If this happened, this is what should be done, but this is what I would probably do.’ The worst part is, Shouta couldn’t fully disagree with any of the answers.

‘What should you do if your friend needs help?’ Izuku had answered with what was essentially ‘alert a pro, and let them handle it,’ and then spent the next two pages justifying the action he had taken. And to be fair, the boy had technically done what he was supposed to. He had taken a pro with him. It wasn’t his fault Vispyros got paralyzed by the Hero Killer. It wasn’t his fault that the Hero Killer had struck during a mass Nomu attack. It wasn’t his fault that a flying Nomu came out of nowhere. Shouta pinched the bridge of his nose. He had half a mind to just give the packet to Inko and see what happened. 

“You still working on those grades?” Hizashi plopped onto the other end of the couch. Shouta nodded at his friend. “Man, you were thorough. It’s been what, two weeks of grading?”

“A week and a half.”

“How’d they do?”

“Better than I thought they would.” Shouta let out a semi-amused huff. “You’ll never guess what I found out.”

“What, that Midoriya is actually a catalyst for most things concerning his classmates?”

“Where’d you hear that?”

“Didn’t. I’ve just noticed it in class. He and Bakugo get going, and then the rest of the class follow like lemmings off a cliff. Not necessarily a bad thing, though.”

“He and Bakugo are almost polar opposites. Did you know Bakugo goes to bed at 8:30?”

“Why on earth would I know that? But, also, he’s a teenager. Are you sure you didn’t read that wrong? Maybe it was supposed to be 18:30, like military time?”

“Mic, 18:30 would be six in the afternoon.”

“Well, still. Maybe you misread it.”

“Bakugo has the second best penmanship in class, barely behind Yaoyorozu. He wrote 8:30.”

“What question was he even answering?”

Shouta actually chuckled at that one. “What can you do to prevent a bad mood in the field? Turns out that the Bakugo we get in class is well-rested, well-fed, and pretty happy.”

“Eesh. I’d hate to see him in a bad mood, then.”

It didn’t take much longer after that to finish the rest of Izuku’s packet. Shouta elbowed his friend, rubbed his eyes, and glanced at the clock.

“I”m going to bed. Don’t be loud.”

“Oh, you know me, quiet as a mouse I am.”

“Just don’t watch those reality shows. You almost took out a wall last time.”

“I did not ! And Nem’s gonna be over in half an hour. What do you want us to do? Watch a documentary?”

“ Don’t you dare. ” Last time they had done that, Hizashi had shattered every window in the apartment and Nemuri had wailed loud enough that they had the police called on them. The amount of paperwork Shouta had to do all because of a little duckie or whatever getting eaten by a fox was absolutely unacceptable.

“Once! It went badly once! I promise it won’t happen again.”

“Mic, you’re on child lock.”

“No,” Hizashi gasped. “No, you can’t do that to us!”

“I pay for the streaming services. I absolutely can.” 

‘Child locking’ each other was something they had come up with as teenagers. If one of them was being too stupid, or too annoying, they got child locked - essentially being treated like a child. For instance, if they didn’t eat enough proper food, they got kid food. Shouta was very careful not to get child locked during the school year. It would be more than humiliating to show up and have to drink his coffee out of a sippy cup. Which had happened multiple times during his first year of teaching. Luckily he had an office to leave it in, but Nezu still occasionally made a dig about it when the stoat knew Shouta hadn’t eaten recently. 

Today, though, the child lock meant that Hizashi and Nemuri were required to watch exclusively TV shows or movies that were on the children’s profile of every streaming service. They could whine and cry all they liked, but until they could handle adult movies responsibly, they would not be allowed to watch them. Not that Shouta could actually enforce it any more than they could enforce the sippy cup thing, but they needed some way of keeping each other accountable without actually stepping on any toes.

—-------

Izuku couldn’t sleep. He didn’t know what it was. The vestiges had been quiet, and the One for All ghosts hadn’t all been in one place recently. Oboro was watching Aizawa and Yamada. Hana was probably watching her brother. Namura hadn’t shown up in…a while. But that was normal. As far as the boy could tell, no one else was in the apartment except his mother. And yet, it felt as though something was coming. He just couldn’t explain it. 

After several hours of not being able to sleep, Izuku dragged himself out of bed. Trying to sleep was useless. He got himself a drink, and settled on the couch with his phone. Nothing big had happened in the news in the last few hours. His friends were probably all asleep. Even Shoto was asleep. The other boy had been sleeping a lot more lately. Izuku sighed, wishing he could sleep like that right now. 

“Izuku?”

Izuku jerked up, having nodded off. 

“Namura?” He glanced at the time. “It’s five in the morning. What are you doing?”

“I need you to summon someone.”

“What?” Izuku didn’t think he could remember the last time a ghost asked him to do something. Sometimes he offered to help them pass on, but usually they didn’t come with any requests. Well, serious ones, anyway.

“Look, I don’t have a lot of time. Can you summon someone you’ve never met?”

“I don’t know? I’ve never tried.”

“If I was in contact with them, holding their hand, maybe? Could you do it then?”

“Um…sure? Probably? Why? What’s going on?”

“It’s complicated, but I need you to get in contact with All Might and have him pass on a message.”

“A message? To who? Namura–”

“Will you do it?” Namura demanded. Izuku nodded. He had never seen the ghost this agitated before. Namura sighed. “I’m sorry to use you like this, but I don’t have any better way.”

“Eh. I use you for things all the time,” Izuku yawned. “What do you want me to tell Yagi?”

“Tell him to bring Nighteye to the beach tomorrow at seven in the morning. Or today, rather. Then you’ll summon me, and one other person.”

“Why do I need to–”

“Don’t question things right now! I’ll explain later.”

“Okay, but I still don’t know if I can summon someone I don’t know! What if I need their name, or maybe their image?”

“Tell Nighteye to bring the case file.”

“What case? Namura, I’m a student. I can’t just–”

“Use your HPSC status, or get your mom in on it. Just do what you need to do.”

“Okay, but what case? I can’t just request ‘the case’ and expect them to know.”

“He’ll know. Now, I really need to go.” Namura disappeared, and Izuku just sat and stared at a wall.  What was going on? 

It wasn’t even five yet, but Izuku sighed and dialed Yagi’s number. No time better than the present, he guessed.

—-------

“Young Midoriya?” Toshinori winced at the gravel in his voice. “My boy, it’s not even five yet, are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” his protege's voice said around a yawn. “Couldn’t sleep. Namura showed up. I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but he said to tell you to tell Sir Nighteye to meet us at the beach at seven. And to bring the case file. I don’t know which case file. He said that Sir Nighteye would know what he meant.”

“My boy, I haven’t spoken with Sir Nighteye in years,” Yagi said.

“Well, I guess you better make up in the next three hours. Namura’s spooked. I’ve never seen him like this.”

That was certainly saying something. From what Midoriya had told him, Agent Namura was nigh unshakeable. Toshinori sighed. He really didn’t want to do this.

“All right, but I can’t guarantee anything.”

“Uh-huh,” Izuku yawned, and the line went dead. Toshinori dragged a hand over his face, and after staring at Nighteye’s number for a while, he dialed. 

“What?” The terseness from his former sidekick was probably deserved, but it still took Yagi by surprise.

“Hello, old friend.”

“Get to your point. We both know you didn’t call because you changed your mind on finding a successor.”

“Uh, well…no, that isn’t why I called. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“I’m at work.”

“Ah. Erm…Listen, I need you to meet me somewhere at seven.”

“Three hours from now?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

Toshinori took a breath to explain, then thought better of it. “Actually, I’m not entirely sure. All I know is that it has something to do with the case you’re working on.”

“Which one?”

“I was told that you would know which one ‘the case’ is, and to bring the case file.”

“And just who told you this?”

“That…It’s complicated, and a little classified. I’ll explain when you get here.”

“I’ll do it,” Nighteye said slowly, “if you’ll agree to meet the young man I think should be your successor.”

“Very well,” Toshinori said, grimacing at his misleading agreement. He had no qualms meeting whoever it was, but as for choosing them as a successor…well, that ship had sailed. 

“Where are we meeting?”

Chapter Text

When Sasaki had received All Might’s call…this was not what he had expected.

“Oh my gosh! It’s Sir Nighteye!” A young man all but squealed. All Might was about to address him as well, when he turned to the boy.

“Young Midoriya, you were the one who requested his presence.” The confusion was evident on his emaciated face.

“I was half asleep! And it’s. Sir. Night. Eye. Here. In front of me!”

“Who is this boy?” Sasaki asked, already wishing he were back at work. Or even home in bed, although that was almost less appealing than what was in front of him. 

“I’m Midoriya Izuku, hero name: Heartstring!” The boy held out his hand. “It’s so amazing to meet you! You were my second favorite hero of all time!”

“Second? Were? ” Sasaki asked with a raised brow, pointedly ignoring the outstretched hand. The boy shrunk back.

“Well, All Might was my favorite. Still is!” Midoriya assured. “But…well, my teacher is…that is to say, Eraserhead is my second favorite now. He’s saved us, and he supports us all, and until today I hadn’t met you in person or anything. But don’t worry! You’re still in my top 3!”

Sasaki toed a stray piece of seaweed, barely glancing at All Might.

“Did you give this child coffee?”

“Nope!” Midoriya answered before All Might could even open his mouth. He bounced in place. “I’m just used to early mornings.”

“And late nights, apparently,” All Might muttered, shifting from side to side. Sasaki sighed and stared at the both of them silently, until his one time friend got uncomfortable enough to speak. “Young Midoriya, when will Agent Namura get here?”

“I told him I’d summon him at seven. It’s 6:55.”

“Summon?” Sasaki hadn’t been told anything, really, about why he was here. And even less about who requested him. Who really requested him. He shook his head. “All Might, why is an agent using a child to do things? Does he have a summoning Quirk?”

“Actually, I have a Quirk called Ghost Talk, except I’m going to need to rename it. We named it before we knew that the Commission put a Quirk suppressor in me.”

“In…” Sasaki was less surprised by the child now. If he was one of those Commission brats, then he had probably been involved in a bit of…everything. He detested the HPSC’s use of children, but until he had more evidence against them and a back up agency in place, he couldn’t do anything about it. “Young man, have you ever given a thought to abandoning the HPSC?”

“Pfft,” the boy covered his mouth. “Have I–ha!--Oh, you have no idea. Oh, crap, it’s time!”

Midoriya took a few steps away, screwed his eyes shut, and reached out his hand. Nothing seemed to be happening. There was no glow, no trembling in the ground. Nothing to indicate a Quirk being used. And then the boy himself started shaking, like he was lifting something heavy. 

“Eesh, this…this. Is. Harder…than. It. Looks.” He took a knee, momentarily pausing. “They’re a lot farther away than I thought, and it turns out summoning someone I’ve never met is not easy.”

“You can do this.”

All Might placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. They seemed close, like father and son, or maybe…Midoriya put both hands up, All Might stepped back. The shaking in the boy’s limbs returned, but with it came a familiar whoosh. Green lightning crackled over the boy’s form, and Sasaki felt his stomach sink. This power was too familiar. He looked to All Might, who was wholly focused on the boy. The man didn’t glance over even once. As a form slowly took shape in front of them, Sasaki fully realized what this was. Ghost Talk, Heartstrings, whatever you wanted to call it, was one of two Quirks. This boy…had One for All.

—-------

Izuku kicked himself for trying to show off by summoning the ghosts and making them visible at the same time. He nearly passed out. Summoning Namura was easy, easier than breathing, but the other ghost…It was like everything that made it up didn’t want to come. Slowly, Izuku got more and more of its form. It was small, huddled in Namura’s arms.

“Is…is that a child? ” Yagi gaped beside them. Sir Nighteye began questioning the dead agent, who was struggling to speak. Izuku frowned. The last vestiges of the kid settled, and then he saw why Namura struggled. The little…girl? It looked like a girl. The little girl dripped with blood. It ran down her arms in streams, disappearing as it hit the ground.

“Look, Eri,” said Namura. He turned her around to face them, but she shook her head and tried burrowing back into his shirt. “Eri, we don’t have long, I need you to look!”

She peered at the three of them with big red eyes peeking through her sweaty hair. She was young, maybe five. Izuku felt a twinge in his chest. If she had just died…well, he wouldn’t think about that part yet. But it would be several weeks before she could learn to change her appearance, and that blood looked wet, dry, and sticky all at once.

“All Might, bulk up.”

The man startled at the command, instantly doing as he was told, then deflating.

“That’s All Might. That’s Sir Nighteye. And that’s Izuku. If you ever see any of them, you run to them. They’re going to try to help you. Okay?”

“Excuse me,” said Nighteye. “Not to be callous towards a child, but you are ghosts, are you not? You are dead, as is she. I do not see how her running to us would help anything when we need this young man to see her in the first place.”

“Mura, what does he mean?” The little girl asked in the smallest voice Izuku had ever heard. “What’s dead mean?”

“I’ll…” Namura cleared his throat. “I’ll explain later. But right now, I want you to memorize these faces. Nighteye especially.”

“Okay.” The girl gasped, clutching her head. “I have t’ go back now.”

“Okay. Okay, it’s all right. Just…It’s okay. It’s okay, Eri. Everything will be fine soon.” Namura sniffed as Eri faded away, much to the onlookers’ horror. The ghost dropped his hands. “Find her soon, Nighteye. Overhaul breaks and remakes her. That happens nearly every night, and I can’t do a thing for her during the day. We should have roughly ten more minutes for you to ask me questions about her situation before Izuku passes out.”

“Twenty,” said Izuku. At the look from Yagi, Izuku sheepishly added, “I…may have been practicing with Oboro while I was still in the hospital.”

“Twenty then.”

Yagi pulled Izuku away while the ghost conversed with the other hero. Izuku shook, but whether from shock or exhaustion, he didn’t know.

“My boy,” Yagi said tenderly. “I’m so sorry you had to see that. I didn’t know what it would look like.”

Izuku shook his head.
“You’re not the one who asked for this. And it’s not like it’s the goriest ghost I’ve ever seen. You shoulda seen the agent that got pulverised by that wood chipper Quirk. Took him years to piece himself back together. Didn’t stay long after he finished.” Izuku let out a wet laugh, not really knowing what he was feeling. Yagi winced. Then, the tall, skeletal man brought him into a hug.

“You’ve seen more than you ever should have then, my boy.” Yagi carded his fingers through Izuku’s hair. The boy fought to keep from sobbing. “I can feel exactly what you’re feeling right now, courtesy of your Quirk, I think. And I know how hard it is to know what that little girl is going through. What she’s been going through. And I promise you, we will do everything we can to get her safe.”

“Y-yeah.” 

“And…you know I’m proud of you, right?”

A high pitched ‘mmph’ was the only response Izuku could give. He buried his face in Yagi’s jacket, and they stayed that way until unconsciousness claimed him.

Chapter Text

There was nothing planned until July. How boring. The mole in UA had delivered a class schedule, which was great and all, but Handy and the Boss Man had decided that attacking the school again would be ‘counter-productive’ or whatever. And so, there was nothing really to do until July. That was months away. 

Dabi glared at a wall. Two-face had broken Clayface out of jail, and now the two were playing a twisted game of tag in the bar. It was weird, they were weird. Dabi was kind of over it. Lizard and Handy were having a three day video game binge or contest or whatever you call it. He had stopped watching after the first six hours. Magneto had gone with the creepy doctor to some meeting or another. They’d been gone for a couple of days.  Compress was the most tolerable. He merely sat at the bar, reading. Kurogiri could be equally tolerable, but something about him gave Dabi the shivers. And not the good kind.

“Hey, Cloudy, top me off,” Dabi pushed his mug closer to the bartender. Kurogiri silently poured something in his cup, but that was not what he had been drinking before. “Hey, what gives?”

“You cannot be ‘smashed’ today.”

“Why not?” Dabi asked irritably.

“The master wishes to speak.”

Suddenly, an unholy screeching came from the direction of the TV, followed closely by the sound of someone being smothered. Dabi looked over as Shigaraki extracted his arm from Spinner’s mouth just before the TV took on the static look that meant Boss Man was about to speak. 

Dabi didn’t like Boss Man. He claimed to want to let Dabi do what he wanted - which Dabi half way believed - but something about him and the way he spoke reminded him a lot of Endeavor. He shrugged to himself. As long as it got him closer to taking down his father, Dabi would stick with the League and its not-so-secretly egotistical leader.

“ Tomura ,” came that creepy disembodied voice. “ It is time. ”

“Time for what, Sensei?”

“To put another plan into action.”

“But the training camp isn’t for another month,” Shigaraki said. Instead of sounding like a whine, like Dabi thought it would, those words sounded almost…worried?

“ Yes, but I have something for you to do in the meantime. I have made an agreement with the Shie Hassaikai. ”

“Wh–but Sensei, I thought you wanted me to do that.”

The plot thickens , Dabi thought wryly. This kind of thing had been happening a lot recently.

“ I did, my dear boy, but you’ve seemed rather distracted lately. I sent the good Doctor and Magne. Unfortunately there was a misunderstanding, and Magne will not be returning. A terrible loss, of course. It could have been avoided if my plans had not needed to be moved up. ”

“What?!” Toga screeched. “Big Sis Mag is–is–”

“ Yes, my dear, she’s dead. We will mourn our loss, but we must persevere! We will make society pay for her death.”

Dabi had a feeling that Big Sis Magne’s death was not a societal thing.

“ Now, for your assignments. Dabi and Spinner will be on loan to the Shie Hassaikai. Do what they want, and you will be rewarded handsomely.”

“Mafia isn’t really my style,” said Dabi, silently leaving ‘old man’ off the end of his sentence.

“That is true. However, I have reason to believe that the heroes are investigating them. They will inevitably attack. It may take some time, but wouldn’t you like to run into your father?” Okay. Dabi had to admit that the idea didn’t sound too bad. “Tomura, you will be taking Twice, Mr. Compress, and Toga. You are to retrieve the assets detailed in the file that Kurogiri will give to you. It may not be possible until that training camp, but if we can retrieve them sooner we should.”

The misty man handed them the files, and Dabi narrowed his eyes when Shigaraki’s face paled. There was something going on with the guy, and frankly, it probably wasn’t good. Not for the League, at any rate. Maybe being shoved off on the Shie Hassaikai would be a blessing in disguise. Whatever happened between the big boss and his baby boss, Dabi didn’t want to be around for it.

“ Now, go, my friends. With your help, we will raze this hero society!”

The TV static cut out, and the videogame reappeared, the words ‘You Lose’ in large, bloody letters across the screen. Ominous. Veeeery ominous. But not for him. Dabi stretched his arms above his head.

“Well, you gonna send me or what, Cloudy?” 

Dabi nearly yelped when a portal opened directly under him. He hit cement, and cursed the warper. It was hard enough living with all this scarred skin without getting it torn off by concrete. He gathered himself up, looked around, and nodded to the other people in the room. He seemed to be in some sort of bunker.

“Hey,” he said as he wandered down a hallway. As he left, he heard Spinner being deposited behind him. From the sounds of the mafia men, the lizard had a cooler entrance.

—-------

Birdman had given Dabi an earful once he found him. Apparently, he didn’t like it when people wandered. The scarred man chuckled to himself. Lecturing him wouldn’t work. Once Overhaul was done whining, he gave the two League villains their assignments. Spinner was a glorified sentry, and Dabi…actually wasn’t sure yet. He was following the Shie Hassaikai leader down a hall. 

“I need you to burn everything in this room,” the man said. Dabi stuck his head inside. There was a funky smell, like someone had peed and not cleaned it up. A bare bed sat in the corner, and a playmat with a few dolls and a house for them to play in, along with a ratty looking stuffed rabbit. There was a small tub in the corner, as well as a toilet and sink. In the center of the room stood a little girl with long white hair and a horn on her head. She looked a step away from crying, and it was obvious from the state of her clothes that she was probably the origin of that smell. Dabi pulled his head back and closed the door.

“What about the kid?”

“Eh. Don’t do anything she can’t recover from. I need her,” Beak Face waved his hand. “I just don’t need the mess. I’ll send for replacements tomorrow.”

Dabi pursed his lips. He itched to just kill Overhaul here and now, but until he knew more about the man’s Quirk, he would have to deal. Rolling his eyes, he returned to the room.

“Sup, pipsqueak.”

The girl squeaked, slowly backing away.

“A-am I-I g-going to th-the ch-chair?” She all but whispered.

“Chair?” Dabi eyed what he had thought were sleeves, but upon closer inspection were actually bandages.

“S-sorry.”

“What for?” Dabi crouched down, admittedly intrigued by this little kid. There was also something deep down vying for his attention. Something…familiar, but not. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Not s’posed to ask questions,” she whispered. Then her eyes widened, and tears spilled down her little cheeks. “It’s cleaning day!”

“Oh. I guess so.” Dabi looked around. To be completely honest, her room looked similar to his own childhood room. There wasn’t a bathroom in his, but it had been bare. No pictures, the few of those had all been in the hallways. His bed had had blankets and a pillow, though. A few toys, but mostly just things that were large enough not to get scattered. A terrible thought occurred to him then. This little girl had toys that she couldn’t hide, that she couldn’t keep safe. If ‘cleaning day’ was a regular occurrence, she didn’t have a single constant other than Overhaul. Endeavor had never burned his toys. How often did this purge happen?

“Please,” she whispered, running to the rabbit. She clutched it to her chest. “Please not Bun Bun. I’ll be really really good, a-and I c-can hide him! Chisaki doesn’t have to know he’s there. Mr. Acid Man let me keep him last time. Please?”

Dabi swore to himself that he would do anything he could to keep that little rabbit intact. He might be a ruthless killer, an insane villain, but he wasn’t heartless. 

“I’ll do my best,” he said. “But everything else will have to go.”

The girl nodded once. Dabi nodded back.

“Now, we need to put you somewhere that will keep you safe while I burn everything.”

“Burn?” There were those big eyes and that little squeak again. Dabi ran a hand over his face.

“Yeah, Squeaker.” Dabi took her under the armpits and deposited her in the tub. She peered over the top, her expression a mixture of curiosity and fear. Dabi checked to make sure the vents at the top of the concrete were open. No need to asphyxiate the two of them if he didn’t have to. With that done, he decided to start with the smaller things. Doll one, doll two. He was stopped by a quiet sound. The girl was no longer looking over the top of the tub. “Hey, Squeaky, you good?”

He found her sobbing her little heart out, yet barely making a sound.

“Whoah, hey, I thought we were good. What’s with the waterworks?”

“I-I…I m-miss…” She wiped her nose on her bandages. Dabi thought for a moment, and decided that a little lie wouldn’t hurt.

“You miss them? Well, you can’t miss them if they’re on the inside now.” The girl looked up, wonder pausing her tears. “See, my Quirk doesn’t just burn. It makes whatever I burn live on the inside. So your dolls? They’re not here any more because I moved them in here.” He poked her forehead. “And now you can have all sorts of fun with them. If you want them there, then we gotta burn ‘em, right?”

She nodded, using her palm to wipe the last of her tears. 

“Okay, so what next? The house or the mat?”

She pointed, and since the house was on the mat, he didn’t know which one it was, but he took a guess. He was right. The house. The burning plastic was acrid, but once it burned enough, it turned to ash and the smell wasn’t as bad. Dabi actually quite liked the smell of ash. Wood ash was the best, though. He burned the mat next, which left a square shape on the concrete. The bed next. The girl didn’t smile, but Dabi knew that look. It was the look of an aspiring pyromaniac. He’d worn that look himself a few years ago. He grinned. He’d make a villain out of this kid yet.

The look disappeared when the door opened. Overhaul sauntered in. A duplicate of what the girl was wearing rested over his arm. Dabi smiled in the unhinged way, with his eyes widened. Beak Face looked like a butler.

“It’s been a while. What’s taking so long?”

“Just enjoying the ride,” Dabi answered easily. He desperately wanted to glance at the girl, to see what expression she had, but he resisted.

“Hm. Well, it looks like this mess is the last one,” Overhaul said, tossing the dress-thing on the side of the tub and grabbing the girl by her arm. She let out a little cry as he lifted her up and over. He took the rabbit in his other hand. “Start with this.”

It was telling that the girl didn’t even cry when he did that. She just looked at Dabi, desperately. Overhaul had turned his attention back to her, spouting some nonsense about keeping clean. Dabi winked, and tapped his forehead. There was a widening in her eyes, and then she…well, she didn’t nod, but it was a slight movement of her head. If Dabi hadn’t gotten so good at reading the micro-moods people like Kurogiri had, he would have missed it. When Overhaul turned back to him, he lit Bun Bun on fire.

“Good. Now her, since I’m here.”

The kid squeaked at that. Fear filled her face.

“Mm…no, I don’t think I will.”

“ What? ”

“Look, bird for brains, you told me to clean this place up, and I’m doing it. But I’m gonna do it my way. And since that’s your way, I’m not doing it.”

“You are supposed to obey me!”

“To an extent. Remember, I’m an independent contractor.”

“Ugh, fine.” Overhaul threw the girl down almost casually, and she cried out. “If you like her so much, then congratulations. You’re her new minder.”

“Fine,” Dabi shrugged. Overhaul huffed and left, as if thoroughly bored now. As if he hadn’t just been about to throw some sort of fit. Whatever. Dabi lifted his shoulders in a shrug at the little girl. “He’s weird.”

She let out two tiny huffs of breath. Eh, he’d take it. Close enough to a laugh. He took the clean clothes.

“Well, kid, here. Get changed. I’ll turn around.” 

He heard her little feet pad over to take the dress from him, then the shuffling of changing. After a minute, though, there was an especially heavy huff, and a couple of squeaky whimpers. Dabi nearly burst out laughing when he turned to see what was wrong. The top of the shirt was stuck on her horn, and her left arm was going through the head hole. He helped resituate her arm, and then out popped her head.

“Ah, there you are. I was starting to think you left me here all by myself.”

“Uh-uh.” She shook her head, and then tapped his forehead. “I would be in here if I left, right?”

“Sure,” Dabi smiled, although his heart twinged. Was this just normal ‘kid being sweet’ stuff, or did she think she would have to be burned to a crisp in order to leave? “What’s your name Squeaky?”

“Eri.” She cocked her head to the side. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Dabi.”

“Oh. Dabi. Why’s that…um…”

“You can ask questions. Just don’t expect me to answer them all.” Dabi sat with his back against the tub, and Eri joined him.

“Why’s that your name?” She asked.

“Because I chose it. How old are you?”

“I dunno.”

“You don’t know your own age?”

“ Oh , age. I’m age six.” Eri played with the edge of her clean dress while Dabi burned the old one. He spread some of the ashes into his hair.

“That’s a weird way to put it.”

“What are these from?” She asked, prodding some of the staples that helped keep his skin together.

“I’m not talking about that.” He gestured to her bandages. “Why do you need those?”

“Not talkin’ about it,” she said.

“Fair enough.”

They sat in silence for a while, just staring at the soot around the room. No doubt the clean freak would get a team in to fix it up later. Probably when they delivered the new furniture. As the minutes went by, Eri scooted closer and closer. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. Dabi was fairly comfortable, which meant it must be nearly freezing in the room. Wordlessly, he offered a place inside his waistcoat. Eri settled into his side, fisting her hands into his shirt. He conjured a flame in his palm. She reached out, mesmerized, and he snapped his hand closed.

“Don’t touch. It’ll hurt.”

“It doesn’t hurt you.”

“Yes, it does.” Dabi sighed and re-conjured the fire. “That's why I have these scars.”

“Oh.” After a moment of deliberation, Eri put her arm up so he could see it. “My scars are because I have a bad Quirk.”

“Hm. I doubt that.”

“I killed someone,” she said, curling back into his side.

“Eh, so did I. You’re not special.” Eri looked up at Dabi with her giant red eyes. “Besides, it’s not the Quirk that makes someone perfect, and it’s not the Quirk that makes someone defective.”

Dabi frowned at himself. What on earth was he saying? That was the farthest thing from what he believed. He had been born with a defective Quirk. But…he couldn’t bear to tell those big red eyes the truth. She was just little. She would grow out of the lies at some point. He could let her be little, couldn’t he? He sighed, and Eri looked up at him.

“You gonna go to sleep or what?”

“Don’t wanna. I don’t like sleeping.”

“Why not?”

“It’s like the chair. But Chisaki isn’t here to wake me up.”

Dabi was beginning to comprehend what happens to this child.

“Well, Squeaky, how about you just lay there and I’ll talk,” he offered. His mind took him back to when he was small and Mom would tell him stories. She’d make them up on the spot. “How about I tell you the story of the evil king and his four kids?”

“What’s a king?”

“It’s a guy that’s in charge of everything in a place.”

“Like Chisaki.”

“Yeah, but like…bigger. A king is in charge of a whole land.”

“Oh.”

“Anyway, one day, the oldest prince ran away.”

“What’s a–”

“The king’s son. Now pay attention. The prince ran and ran and ran. And one day, he found a pretty fairy, who would help him defeat the evil king. She had long white hair, and red eyes.”

“Like me?” She gasped.

“Exactly like you. And so the prince took her with him, and he saved the other princes and the princess. And then they lived happily ever after.”

“But…how did it happen?” Eri asked.

“I’m glad you asked,” said Dabi, ready to launch into the story. He hadn’t done this since Natsuo was a baby. “Once upon a time, there lived an evil king. He had four kids, Prince Touya, Princess Fuyumi, Prince Natsuo, and Prince Shoto. The oldest, Touya, was the father’s favorite, until the successor, Shoto, was born. Prince Shoto was locked in a tower, though, away from all the others because the evil king thought he was special…”

Chapter Text

~~~While Dabi is telling Eri stories~~~

Endeavor sneezed in the middle of his parenting class, startling those around him. He muttered a quick ‘sorry’. Sakami, his friend(?), snickered and joked that maybe someone was talking about him. He leveled a glare at the CEO.

Today’s class was about autonomy. The teacher, whose name Endeavor learned was just Fu, had brought up a PowerPoint. It started with ‘Ask, Offer, Explain’. Ask was simple: asking before touching the child. Offer was for offering choices when possible. Explain meant you had to explain your actions and concerns to the child. It…actually sounded pretty similar to the training he had gone through on how to interact with child victims.

“It’s important to note,” said Fu, “that you need to recognize and respect any answers they give, even if they are non-verbal. That could be a shake of the head, or backing away, or—“

Fu continued on. Endeavor, for his part, listened casually. This class was still boring and borderline useless, but there were a couple things here and there that had made him think. Each lesson had him thinking about how Shoto had reacted to, well, everything. To Endeavor, training had been just that. Training. But to Shoto, what was it? Was it training? Or had it been something more sinister? Endeavor’s gut turned at the thought. To Endeavor, keeping his children separate was just a way to prevent distraction, the same way one shuts themselves in a study to focus. Had Shoto seen it as a way to help? Endeavor shook the thought away. He…he didn’t like it, and there was no sense dwelling on it.

The class touched on other subjects, like structure. Endeavor knew he had provided structure, but too much of the wrong kind. Sakami had made him realize that. Letting the kids have hiding spaces or ‘dens’ was beneficial. Shoto…had never really had that. Endeavor couldn’t think of a time he had knocked before entering. It had just been one of those things he had never considered; it was just something he did. Reframing the threat of their ‘why’ was of slight interest to him. The child asking ‘why’ was more of a need to understand, not a challenge. Endeavor’s mind flashed back to the number of times Shoto had asked that as a child, only to be punished. He had just wanted to understand, hadn’t he? And Endeavor had thought…nevermind what he had thought.

The next point was understanding key emotional triggers, and Endeavor straightened in his seat. He’d pay attention, if only to keep his mind from wandering.

Chapter Text

“I’ll surpass you, Izuku!”

“Not if I surpass you first, Kaachan!” Came the laughing reply.

Hizashi paused outside one of the small gyms. They were almost always available for students before or after school, but it was… he checked the time…8:45 in the evening. He raised a brow and peeked his head through the door. Inside were two very sweaty, red in the face teenagers. Midoriya and Bakugo looked a moment away from collapsing, yet still they circled each other around the mats. How long had they been in here? You know what, it didn’t matter. However, Hizashi did not particularly want to deal with whatever kind of thing they were doing. They both looked determined, and if he were to interrupt…well, nothing bad would happen. He was a teacher, after all, but Hizashi would end up with two potentially pissed teenagers. He didn’t like situations like that, so he called it in.

“Hey, Eraserhead—“

“ What do you want?”

“That’s no way to talk to your bestest buddy in the whole wide world—“

“ You only call me Eraserhead if we’re in public - which we’re not because I’m your ride and I haven’t left yet - or if you have bad news. So what is it?”

“Okay, fine, ya got me. Two of your little fledglings are duking it out in one of the mini gyms.”

A long sigh came from the phone’s speaker.

“ Which one?”  

“Bakugo and Midoriya—“

“ No, which gym?”

“Oh, uh…” Hizashi looked at the little placard. “14.”

The phone clicked, and Hizashi readied a scowl. Shouta hung up on him. He hated when he did that. A few moments later, his friend barreled down the hallway.

“Well, that was so polite of you, Sho. So nice to be hung up on—“

“Sorry.”

Hizashi short circuited. That had to be the fastest apology he’d ever gotten. Hizashi watched his friend with a little concern, then realized there was nothing to worry about. Shouta was just worried about his little kidlets. Heh heh. And the man claimed he didn’t care about anyone. 

“What. Are you two. Doing?” The warning tone in Shouta’s voice made even Hizashi shudder.

“Uh…training?” Midoriya grimaced. That face looked a little too similar to Oboro’s when he had given the exact same excuse to their homeroom teacher nearly twenty years ago. 

“It’s almost 9:00. And I know for a fact that I dropped you off at home five hours ago.”

“Kaachan asked if I wanted to spar,” Midoriya pointed to the other boy.

“Hah?! Don’t blame me for this! You’re the one that wanted more practice!”

“It doesn’t matter who wanted what!” Shouta snapped. “Both of you are barely standing, and those bruises look like they’ll need Recovery Girl’s attention! You both need to learn when to stop surpassing your limits.”

“But…we’re supposed to,” said Bakugo with a frown. “That’s what we do in training all the time.”

“Yes. During your supervised training. And there’s a difference between surpassing your limits and running yourselves into the ground. ”

“So if we were to stop right before the ground, though—“

Shouta held up a hand, and Hizashi stifled a giggle at the next statement. 

“You know what? You’re both childlocked.”

“Uh…what?”

“You’re childlocked. Which means no more sparring, doing stupid things, etcetera. You are going home.”

“But Daaaad—“ the boys said in unison, then both froze. Hizashi had to fight so hard to stifle his laughter.

“Let’s get you both home.” The boys missed the little blush that creeped onto Shouta’s face when he turned around. He stopped next to Hizashi on his way out. “Not. A. Word.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Hizashi grinned.

“You’re face said it for you.”

Chapter Text

Auntie Inko closed the trunk of her car with one hand. The other held a bag of old toys. Katsuki would take that, too, but unfortunately the disassembled children’s bed was too bulky for anything else to fit in his arms. Izuku struggled to see around the plethora of bags in his arms. The nerd wasn’t tall to begin with, and the bags were just…so tall.

“Thank you for the help again, boys,” Auntie said. “The day care will really appreciate these.”

“Well it’s not like we’re using any of this stuff,” Katsuki griped. 

All his breath left him when he accidentally ran the side of the bed into the doorway, which ran part of it into his stomach. Izuku and Auntie winced.

“Are you okay, Kaachan?”

“Fine,” he wheezed while he maneuvered the bed through the door without hurting himself this time. A daycare worker led them to room full of donations, and Katsuki kept wincing. His stomach was definitely bruised. Like…really bruised.

“We really appreciate you bringing these things,” said the worker. Her nametag said ‘Suki’. “We have a couple families that might appreciate that bed especially.”

“Well, it’s nice of you to take donations for them,” Auntie smiled. “I’m glad Katsuki’s mother held onto it.”

“It’s all part of the service we provide!” The woman reminded Katsuki of Floaty. Too bubbly. “Hey, are you okay? You look a little—“

“I’m fine,” Katsuki snapped, but the pain from ramming a bedframe into his abdomen was still a bit high.

“Katsuki, why don’t you sit down for a moment?” Auntie pulled him to a bench near the reception desk next to the bathrooms. He knew better than to argue with her. Izuku took a seat next to him. Auntie’s phone rang. “Oh, sorry, boys. I’ve got to take this, and it might be a minute. Stay here, will you?”

“Yes, Auntie.”

“Yeah, Mom, we’ll be right here.”

Izuku remained blessedly silent after that. After a few minutes, Katsuki started feeling better. He lifted his shirt a little and dropped it just as quickly.

“Ooh, Kaachan, that didn’t look good.”

“No, duh. I’ll visit the old lady on Monday.”

“Are you sure you don’t want at least an ice pack?”

“I’ll be fine, dunce face.”

“Uh…you didn’t get hit in the head, too, did you?”

Katsuki glared in response, and Izuku held his hands up in surrender. Just then, a woman barrelled into the reception area with a baby in one arm and a hand over her mouth. She shoved the baby into Katsuki’s arms, which made him hiss at the sudden pressure on the bruise.

“I’msorrypleasewatchherI’llberightback!” The woman dashed into the bathroom. There was a retching sound before the door even swung closed. Katsuki adjusted the baby to face him, still dumbstruck by the odd turn of events. The baby stared up at him. It wasn’t babbling or anything. Just staring. 

The bell at the reception desk rang. Katsuki glanced up, wondering when Izuku had moved. He looked back down. This baby had to have some sort of hypnosis Quirk. Her eyes looked normal, though. Katsuki tried to think of the last time he’d held a baby. Probably his cousin, but that was like ten years ago. Support the head, he remembered. He double checked the positioning of his hands. Probably fine. 

The next thing Katsuki knew, the mom was back, with Suki. Izuku watched from the side with his mother, who came back in at some point.

“I’m so sorry about that!” The woman took her daughter back, blushing all the while. “I’m here for a walk around for when Mei Mei gets older, but I’ve got another little one on the way, and you can’t really stop morning sickness.”

“It’s afternoon, though…” Katsuki said softly.

“Ha, well, tell that to the morning sickness.”

“Morning sickness is a misleading name, isn’t it?” Suki asked cheerfully. “Lucky for you, though, there were two very responsible boys in the waiting room.”

“Oh, yes. Thank you, very much.” The woman bowed as best she could with the baby in her arms.

“You’re welcome,” said Katsuki, voice still soft. He smiled and waved at the baby as they walked away. He turned to see Auntie and son grinning at him.

“Say anything and I’ll kill you,” Katsuki threatened, but he couldn’t quite get that softness out of his voice. Despite the aching bruise on his stomach, this might actually be the most relaxed he had ever been.

“You’re adorable, Katsuki,” Auntie said as they walked to the car. Once again, Katsuki knew better than to argue with Auntie.

Chapter Text

Hitoshi shivered and drew his blanket closer around himself. His parents hovered around him, literally, in his father’s case. Hover wasn't exactly useful for Shinsou Shukishi in his job as a reporter, but it made him kind of…endearing. The man hovered another orange juice toward Hitoshi, letting it glide over the coffee table and making Hitoshi smile. His mother let out an exasperated sigh on the phone.

“Look, Doctor Hanui,” she said, “I know he’s not a hero yet - yes, I mean yet , he’s on track to transfer into the program - but we can’t get a straight answer out of any other doctors. We’ve been to so many specialists. You’ve always been able to, to figure out everything about me, so can’t you please…Yes, I know we’re not related biologically. My point is that my Quirk is difficult to work with, and you’ve figured it all out. I just…it’s been months, and his cold chills have gotten so much worse. I don’t even want to think about Monday. I can’t send him to school like this, but he also seems to get better when he’s there. No, he doesn’t have a fever. He’s just cold.”

Shinsou Mika was a part time underground hero, and she was currently trying to get her own doctor to help. Her Quirk, Sound Wave, not only made her immune to Hitoshi’s Quirk, but let her sneak around undetected by manipulating the way sound waves moved. She had been the first person to encourage Hitoshi’s hero ambition.

“Uh…M-Mika?” Hitoshi’s teeth chattered. “I-I th-think I kn-know s-some-o-one wh-who c-can he-help.”

“Just a second, Hanui.” Mika turned to him. “What, Toshi?”

“Th-there’s s-someone, at, at s-school.”

“What, Hanui? Oh, yes, yes, thank you. I already sent everything to your secretary. Thank you.” She hung up. “Okay, Hitoshi. Who is it that can help?”

Hitoshi opened his mouth to answer, and doubled over when a cold chill seemed to sink right into his soul. Heh. Soul. 

“M…Mi…doriya…” he gasped. He clutched at his chest. “My heart feels funny…” 

That was maybe the first sentence he’d said unaffected by the chattering.

—————

“Why do they need Izuku?” Mom asked. Izuku cocked his head. “Well, all right. Izuku! Get your shoes!”

“What’s up?” Izuku asked.

“Aizawa needs you.”

That couldn’t be good. It was a Saturday afternoon, and usually Izuku spent the day with his mom and trained with Yagi in the evening. Aizawa tried to keep the social calls to a minimum (not that he always succeeded, but…whatever). Shoto poked his head out of his room.

“Where are you going?”

“The Shinsou’s need Izuku’s help for something,” Mom said. “Aizawa wasn’t clear on the details, but I don’t think he’d be asking if it wasn’t important.”

“Okay.” Shoto looked thoughtful for a moment. “Do I need to come too?”

“Uh, well…no. It’s probably ghost related. But why don’t you and I do something while Izuku’s out?”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Yeah, that’ll be good!” Izuku said. “You guys can get to know each other a little better.”

Izuku darted out the door as soon as he saw Aizawa’s car. Inside, Aizawa was already tense.

“We’re going to the hospital,” he said once they were on the road. 

“What? Why? Is Shinsou okay?”

“Yeah. No. I don’t know. His parents admitted him an hour ago because of cold chills.”

“That seems…excessive.”

“His heart almost stopped.”

Izuku thought the same might happen to him after that statement, but instead it jumped into high gear when Aizawa swerved through traffic like a madman. Izuku clutched the arm rest and the door. “What…”

“You remember when you told off his mom? The ghost one?”

“Uh…yeah…”

“He thinks it’s that.”

“Oh, well—AH! Geez! Watch out!” Aizawa cut off another car as he tore into the parking lot. He pulled into the emergency specialist lot. “Uh, we’re not supposed to park here.”

“Yes, we are.”

Aizawa practically dragged the boy out of the car, and Izuku barely kept up with the pace of the taller man. He flashed his hero license at the door, and a nurse ushered them in.

“We’re keeping him stable for the moment,” she said, a touch breathless. “He’s nonresponsive, currently, and it’s hard to keep his temperature normal. It keeps dropping, and we have no idea why.”

“I can tell you why,” Izuku said as she opened the door. Inside, Shinsou laid in a hospital bed, hooked up to a couple machines, a sunlamp on above him. His parents sat on either side, and a doctor rubbed his hand over his face at the foot of the bed. And there was Shinsou’s mother’s ghost, with a hand smugly shoved through Shinsou’s chest, exactly where his heart would be.

“I just don’t know. It’s not a Quirk,” the doctor said, having not noticed the newcomers yet. “There’s nothing to indicate why his body is so cold on the inside. And not to mention the cold spot all round him, even with the sun lamp on.”

“Sir, the specialist.” 

“Oh, yes, welcome…Eraserhead?” Aizawa moved to show Izuku. “Wha…a child? You brought a child?”

“Didn’t want to,” Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose, “but, unfortunately, he’s probably going to be able to fix this.”

“What healing Quirk does he have?”

“None,” Izuku answered. “But I do know what the problem is.”

“Oh, a diagnostic Quirk?”

Izuku ignored the man, stepping right up to the purple-haired woman, who had yet to notice anything around her. She muttered things.

“Yes, little monster, join me. You can’t do anything in death! Abandon your wayward Quirk. You won’t hurt anyone else.”

Anger boiled in Izuku’s gut.

——

Shouta watched in morbid fascination as Izuku became more and more agitated the longer they were in the room. The boy stepped as close to the bed as he could, not noticing the parents and doctor tense at the action. Izuku stared for a moment, and then…he sneered. The expression didn’t sit well on those features of his. The sunshiny child looked down-right murderous.

“ Get out of him .” Izuku’s words resonated, echoing in the room. His eyes glowed, and the lightning of One for All sparking around his frame. For lack of a better word, he looked scary. And Shouta didn’t scare easy. “ He is not cursed. He is not a curse. Get away from him! ”

Izuku threw an arm out and a woman slammed into the far wall. The others in the room jumped. The doctor nearly ran out of the room. The woman slid down, perhaps a little slower than gravity would usually dictate. Shouta was struck by how similar to Shinsou she looked. The same purple hair, the same tired eyes. However, she sneered and hissed in a way that seemed…inhuman. 

“ You cannot keep this monster around!” She declared, a long-nailed finger pointing at (presumably) her son. Her voice warbled like it was trying to move through air made of jello. “ He isn’t human! He’s an abomination.”

“ You don’t get to decide that. ”

“ Oh? And you do?” The woman grinned wickedly, and suddenly she didn’t look like Shinsou very much at all. “ You, who gave me the power to end him ?”

“I…what?” Izuku took a step back, One for All powering down, and the echoing resonance in his voice disappearing. “But…I didn’t. I wouldn’t. Ever.”

“ Hahaha! You don’t even know your own power, do you? Just being around you grants me power! Just being in a hallway adjacent to your classroom was enough! ”

“W-what…?” The stricken look on Izuku’s face was almost worse than the sneer. Shouta put an arm around him protectively. 

“We’ll work on that.”

A noise came from the bed that sounded like a very soft ‘Midoriya.’ Shinsou sat up, his parents immediately at his sides, supporting him.

“Even if that’s true,” he rasped, “she’s just trying to get in your head. It’s what she’s always been like. The car crash that took her broke my leg, but it was the best day of my life.”

“ You little—!”

“ Shut up! ” Izuku and Shinsou’s parents yelled at the same time. A half smile tugged at the corner of Shinsou’s mouth.

“Okay, maybe the day you guys took me in beats that out. And the day you decided to be my friend, Midoriya. Thanks.”

“No problem,” Izuku said a little faintly. The woman was trying to speak, but nothing was happening. “And you.”

Izuku took a shaky step toward her, got down to her level, and commanded, “ Leave. Do not come back. And do not bother him again. ”

The woman glared, and disappeared. Izuku collapsed against Shouta’s side. He supported him until the nurse brought an extra chair in, along with a water bottle.

“You should be good now, Shinsou,” said Izuku around a mouthful of water. 

“Thanks,” the other boy replied, already sounding better than he had. “And seriously, even if you did accidentally give her power or something, it’s not your fault. Plus, you fixed it.”

“Sure.” Izuku clearly didn’t believe that, and Shouta knew it. They exchanged a glance, one that Shouta hoped the boy could decipher. I’ll help you.

Chapter Text

This day was perhaps the single greatest day of Shoto’s life. Inko started it with breakfast for lunch (Breakfast! At lunch time!), and followed it with a simple walk in a large park. They had wandered past countless families. Some picnicked. Some played. A few had dogs. The third dog they encountered ran right up to him(!) and jumped to put its giant paws on Shoto’s chest. Shoto laughed at the large tongue that licked an entire side of his face at once.

“Balto, down boy!” A young man ran over and pulled it away by the collar. Shoto didn’t wince at how that reminded him of Father dragging him to his room by his shirt collar. He didn’t. The man let go and patted the dog’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry about that. He’s really friendly, but I haven’t quite trained him not to jump up yet. Hey, aren’t you that kid from the sports festival?”

Inko replied something that seemed friendly, something about how she was a body guard, and no she doesn’t look like it, and yes, she gets that a lot. He attempted to match Inko’s smile. As the man jogged away, Inko linked elbows with him. Huh. Natsuo and Fuyumi sometimes walked with their arms linked like that. 

“Are you with me, Shoto?”

“Mmhm.” He wasn’t, not entirely, but he didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

“What’s bothering you, sweetheart?”

“N-nothing.” He sighed at Inko’s raised brow. “Okay. It’s just…does pulling a dog like that hurt it? It looked like it would.”

“Well…Probably not as much as you think. Dog’s aren’t always able to understand us, so handling them with their collar is sometimes required.”

Was that how Father had seen him? As a dog?

“You know, Shoto, most people actually take collars off when they’re at home. Bigger dogs can handle that just fine, because they have a lot more muscle and skin between the collar and anything sensitive. It would be like putting a belt on someone with a beer belly. It would be uncomfortable to be pulled around by it, but it wouldn’t necessarily hurt. Plus, a collar being used to control a dog the way that man did is usually only for big dogs because until they’re trained, we don’t have a way to stop them from hurting someone. Smaller dogs and puppies are easier, because you can just pick them up and remove them from the situation. Although, sometimes even those dogs need extra.” Inko hummed as she thought over her next words. “The important thing for dog owners is to know exactly how much force is okay to use. You don’t want to hurt them, but you can’t let them hurt others either.”

Shoto kicked a pebble while they walked, idly wondering if maybe he should have been born a dog. At least then he maybe could have expected the treatment he’d had in his childhood. Or maybe not. He didn’t think he had ever been particularly aggressive toward anyone as a child. Inko made a small happy sound.

“Oh, swings! Let’s go swing for a while.”

Once in the swing, Shoto realized he actually didn’t know how to. He could swing from rope to rope or do the monkey bars - any normal obstacle course would have those things - but a regular swing? It…couldn’t be hard, right? He watched Inko for a moment. Feet out, lean back. Feet under, lean forward. Shoto tried copying, but he had to be doing something wrong. He wasn’t moving as much as he should be. Barely a foot back and forth, if he had to guess. Shame burned at his cheeks. Inko stopped, and Shoto winced. Luckily, she didn’t notice, or if she did, she didn’t say anything.

“Here, sweetheart, sometimes it helps to get moving a little first,” she said. Shoto froze when he felt hands take the sides of his seat and pull him back. It felt a little like his butt might slide off. And then he was moving. Fingers of air blew his hair back, and he watched as the treetops lowered in his field of vision. And then he was going backwards, which was an entirely disconcerting experience. His stomach swooped until there were hands on his back, pushing him forward again. As he was going backward the second time, Inko called, “Okay, now try pumping!”

So, Shoto did. He leaned back, sticking his feet out, and soared higher. He leaned forward as he fell backward. Again and again, each time going just a little higher. Eventually, if he only looked up, it was nothing but blue sky. He went fast enough that for a very brief moment, he was weightless, breathless, thoughtless. Was this how Hawks felt when he flew through the sky? Inko took her place on the swing next to him, although she didn’t go anywhere near as high. A knowing smile sat on her face, and Shoto could tell she knew exactly what he was feeling.

“Shoto,” she called after a while, and he slowed to a less vigorous pace. Inko took two more swings, then hopped out of her seat at the highest point. It wasn’t that high, but she still had to take several steps to steady herself afterward. She turned to face him with a triumphant grin. Shoto gasped, and immediately tried the same thing. He stumbled on impact, sending woodchips flying everywhere. That swing had been much higher than hers, and he had horribly mistimed his jump. Butterflies filled his stomach as he tried to assess how upset she was. Inko…wasn’t upset. Her grin didn’t waver as she helped him up. “That was quite ambitious for a first time! I should’ve warned you to try it at a lower speed. Good job, though!”

“Uh…oh,” Shoto replied, a little breathlessly. That really hadn’t been something you could call a ‘good job’, but the compliment made him smile anyway. “I should probably be better at it. I’ve fallen from higher than that.”

“Well,” Inko chuckled, “it’s a little different. Most kids fall several times before they get it down. Why don’t you try again?”

They spent another half an hour jumping out of the swings like that. Then, when Izuku and Aizawa got home at the same time they did, they patiently listened to him talk about his day.

Yeah. This was definitely the greatest day of Shoto's life.

Chapter Text

“Ugh. These guys are so stupid,” Keigo muttered. Undercover work was a necessary evil, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. His hair had been dyed black, his eyes changed to brown. His wings were about half the size they usually were and temporarily dyed the same shade as his hair. Hanaka in the disguise division of his agency had done all of it herself, using her Quirk. Unfortunately, her Quirk itched like a porcupine had cross-breeded with a bunch of bees and then crawled through his feathers, stinging along the way. The men in this van weren’t helping matters. Sitting in the corner, Ugly had the stench of someone who hadn’t showered in weeks. Smokey, who was right next to Keigo, shoved the tip of his glock into Keigo’s ribs with every bump of the road. The man kept puffing cigar smoke into his face. Keigo once again had to force down a wave of nausea. He wished he was anywhere else but here.

“So, what’s the boss want with ya?” 

“I dunno.” Keigo hissed as Smokey jabbed him with the butt of the gun.

“Don’t talk,” he said, the cigar in his mouth making his words slur. “We don’t gotta know.”

“Hey, I was just answering a question, man.” Those words had a lot more confidence than Keigo actually felt. He could take all of these guys in a fight, obviously, but accidents happen, and that gun in his ribs was not making him happy. The van took a sharp turn. It threw Keigo across one of his captor’s laps, where he laughed sheepishly.

“Sorry! Didn’t mean to do that.”

“Ugh, shut up,” Whiney said when she shoved him onto the floor. “You’re so fake. I hope you don’t think we’re buying your ‘I’m so sweet and innocent’ act. We’re not stupid.”

“Didn’t say you were!” Keigo liked lying to villains. Especially when it was petty. Lying to keep your identity safe, or other people, or whatever, was fine, but not fun. Even though none of them had actually heard his earlier remark, he quite enjoyed that he’d lied to them about it. 

It took another twenty minutes to reach the gang’s headquarters. When the van, Keigo breathed a silent sigh of relief. A few more minutes, an hour at most, and he would get to go home. Except Keigo recognized the woman guarding the door. Immediately, he disbursed the back up feathers he had been trailing them with. 

“Hey, Jammer, we got the guy the boss wanted.”

“Hey.” Jammer ran her eyes up and down Keigo’s form, sending shivers up his spine. Last time they had met, Keigo had found himself in a rather unsavory situation at the ripe old age of eighteen. He would rather not have a repeat. “Hm. Not bad. Maybe if you’re still in one piece after the boss is done with you, we can have a little foray into that alley over there.”

“Uh-uh, s-sure!” Keigo’s smile was fake, but that stutter was oh so real. He was escorted in, relief flooding him. Maybe he could get out of this. 

The boss had his own suite of offices in the seemingly abandoned building. The first was cozy, despite the water damage on the walls, with several armchairs and sofas. The next was less cozy, more like a normal office. A man sat at one of the desks. He didn’t bother looking up. The next office only housed one desk, and behind it was the boss, Morita Keizo. Alias: Harness, which was also his Quirk. According to their intelligence, the man could restrain just about anyone. He specialized in human trafficking, specifically those with enviable Quirks. Unfortunately for his victims, he was also reported to have a rather nice personality. Keigo found him deplorable.

“Ah, Mr. Katami,” the man smiled. “It’s good to see you. Please, take a seat.”

Smokey and Ugly shoved him into one before he had a chance to respond. Harness pressed a button on his phone.

“Miss Jammer, if you will.”

Keigo braced himself. Hopefully, he had willed his feathers far enough away. Jammer’s Quirk let her put out a range of sound frequencies, most outside of human range. Some of those frequencies could tear his feathers apart easily. He fought to keep the wince off of his face when three feathers succumbed. 

“Well, now that we’re alone.” Harness glanced at his henchmen. “Relatively speaking. Why don’t we get to know each other?”

“Uh, okay!” Keigo’s grin was too bright, but he let enough of his actual unease come through his eyes to bely any sincerity it might have had. 

“Oh, there’s no need to be so nervous, my friend,” the man chuckled. Keigo’s feathers ruffled almost against his will. “I have a proposition for you, you see.”

“O-oh? W-what kind?”

“Well, I have a client who is looking for someone just like you.” Harness circled his desk, coming to a halt in front of it. “She’s looking for a pretty little bird to care for. Now, I know you’re probably hesitant, what with the way we brought you here, but I can promise you that she’s a very kind person. Should you accept, you’ll be set for life. Food, and a very big roof over your head. An allowance for any kind of trinkets you could possibly want. And all you have to do is stand around and look pretty.”

“As n-nice as th-that sounds,” Keigo said, “I have a f-feeling that’s n-not all.”

“Well, I get a pretty little finders’ fee, but to my knowledge, that is all.”

Fat chance. As if. Insert whatever other incredulous and/or disbelieving phrases here. No wonder this guy targeted lower class neighborhoods. Keigo pretended to think over the offer. There had to be a way out of this. His feathers were out. The dye job had made them simultaneously too sensitive and not sensitive enough. He’d have to talk to Hanaka about that. The backup feathers were too far away, and Jammer’s Quirk was still active. An idea occurred to him then. Who was the best person to take out Jammer’s Quirk?

“How much is she offering?” Keigo asked, careful to keep his unsure facade up.

“A lot. More than you’ll ever need.”

“What if s-someone else paid you more?”
That got the boss’s attention. Harness leaned in, lifting Keigo’s chin with a finger. A strong smell of vanilla and tobacco washed over him, and he found his head swimming at the strength of it.

“Who?”

“M-my uncle. He’s rich. H-he might pay more than her.”

“Our records don’t show you having an uncle.”

“H-he’s estranged. But only from my parents. I haven’t spoken with him in a long time, but he might be able to…to pay a lot more.”

“You know his phone number?”

—-------

Shouta was going to kill whoever was calling him. It was the last class of the day, his kids were behaving for once, and he had just fallen asleep. When he saw the number as unlisted, he woke fully. Who could have gotten this number? This was his work phone. Well. One of them. He had one for dubious contacts, which was the one ringing, and one for hero work. If he was being honest, the hero work one was also his personal one. He didn’t know enough non-heroes to warrant a third phone. Shouta growled a sigh and left Iida in charge.

“What?”

“Uh, HEY, Uncle Isao!” That was Hawks’s voice. Calling him uncle. Shouta hit the button on the side of his phone, which would let someone know he needed the call traced. “It’s Katami Igo. Katami Lian’s son? L-listen, I know it’s been years since you and Mom had that falling out, but I wasn’t really part of that, and I kind of need some help with something. I-I know it’s going to sound l-like I’m just after your money, but I really really need your help.”

Shouta headed to his car while he waited for a location, stopping only long enough to tell someone to watch his class. At this rate, he should just keep a substitute on retainer.

“So you need three billion yen to keep you from being sold to someone else.”

“Th-that is a v-very b-blunt way of p-putting it,” said Hawks, a note of fear in his voice. If Shouta didn’t know better, he would have believed it. The stuttering reminded him of the first time he’d seen Izuku interact with a stranger for the first time. “A-and y-you should know that y-you’re on speaker.”

“Uh-huh.” Aizawa sighed, and tried to buy some time. “Give me a minute to look at my bank accounts.”

His phone dinged with a location and a text from Nezu about sending back up. The location actually wasn’t far, just across town in the run-down warehouses that had been half-demolished by an All Might fight a few years ago. To Shouta’s knowledge, they had been used by a gang briefly last year, but had been empty for the last six months. Five minutes into his drive, he spoke to Hawks again.

“All right, I have the funds. But I want proof of identity. I haven’t seen you in twenty years, after all.” Shouta was glad he had a naturally deep, sometimes gravelly voice. It came in handy when he had to pretend to be a crotchety old man. 

“Would seeing him be enough?” Another voice asked. Shouta scowled, already hating the man.

“Sure. I’d need to pick him up anyway, wouldn’t I?”

“Well, of course, but I hope you don’t mind if I send a car for you? I know it probably seems really shady, but it’s for my safety and yours. I have a great many enemies, and it would be better for us both if you don’t know where we are.”

“I can drive just fine. I’m not that old, you know!”

“Now, that isn’t what I was saying. I just don’t want either of us to get hurt–”

Shouta continued to lay it on thick. The more things he complained about, the more he was reminded of his grandfather. The man had had a great many things to say, and most of them were complaints about the younger generation. The pro hero wondered if he would be like his grandfather one day as he pulled into a nearby alleyway. He hung up, promising to be at a certain address at a certain time, then parkoured to the roof of the building. 

There were the warehouses, and in front of them was a dilapidated office building. A high pitched whine made him slam his hands over his ears. Even that didn’t really help. On the roof of the office building was a person standing with their arms out, as if singing to the heavens. They were probably the issue. Aizawa, barely able to think, squeezed his eyes closed until the ringing stopped. No need to give away that he was watching. When he looked back, the person had disappeared. Cautiously, he made his way to that roof. It was empty when he got there, but from the vantage point he could see a few other heroes approaching from the surrounding alleys. He tapped into the hero comms.

“This is Eraserhead. There was one person on this roof, who I suspect to be the criminal Jammer. She can emit high frequencies that will cause hearing loss, as well as frequencies that will block communications. If you have ear protection I suggest you use it. Hawks is somewhere inside, and his feathers are weak against Jammer’s Quirk. Keep the building surrounded. I’m going in.”

After getting affirmatives from the others, Shouta entered the building. The layout was extremely straightforward. Literally, it was just a regular office building. The top floor didn’t have anyone in it, but the floor sagged and rotted in some places. He did not want to walk on it. The high pitched ringing came back, but it was distant. Shouta pulled some earplugs from his pocket. He didn’t like not being able to hear while he worked. The next floor wasn’t quite as bad, but he didn’t have to walk through it like he had the last one. Both floors were devoid of inner walls and furniture. 

The next floor - the fifth floor of the seven story building - had a long hallway and several rooms. There was one camera, mounted above the door to the stairway he was in. The building wasn’t as normal as he’d originally thought. The stairs only supplied access to the top three floors, and Shouta was willing to bet there was another set on the other end of the hall. He pulled the camera off the wall with almost no force. It had been mounted in a thick layer of paint and a little plaster. He checked every room as he passed them. Each one had a bed and a trunk, the contents of which he probably didn’t want to know, based on the pair of fuzzy handcuffs left on one of the headboards. As he neared the last rooms, he was able to hear some commotion around the earplugs. He took them out long enough to figure out what was happening. The high pitched ringing assaulted him, but he winced through it.

“Oh, come on, sweetheart, the boss said I get you until your uncle gets here. And you are deliciously familiar, aren’t you, Takuya?” There was a whine, clearly from a man, and if Shouta were any closer to the sound, he’d be whining too. “I don’t know why you’re pretending to be someone else, Takuya, but I don’t care! Oh, I love how your little feathers quiver!”

And Shouta had heard enough. He threw open the door just as a body went flying through it. He dodged, wrapping the person in his scarf as he did. The ringing stopped the second they made impact with the wall. Upon closer inspection, the person was, in fact, Jammer, and she was, in fact, unconscious. Shouta took a pair of cuffs from his belt and restrained her that way. She came to a second later.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?!”

Shouta put his knife to her neck.

“How many more people in this building?”

“U-uh, s-seven, I-I think?”

He tapped his comm.

“I’ve got Hawks and Jammer. Fifth floor. Possibly seven more targets. Move in.” Shouta used his scarf to fully restrain Jammer again before he glanced over his shoulder. Hawks, in full disguise, had his back against the far wall, next to the bed, with his shirt fully unbuttoned. His head was back, his eyes closed, chest heaving. Shouta decided Jammer needed to be knocked out again. It took a lot more force to knock someone out with a blow to the back of the head than most people knew. Shouta may have used just a little more force than that. He winced at the slight crack. Hopefully he hadn’t just broken her neck and killed her. That would be a lot more paperwork than he needed. When he saw her chest still moving, he left her where she was.

“You okay?” Shouta asked, kneeling in front of Hawks. He looked the other pro up and down. Aside from a couple scratches on his chest and a bruise forming on his temple, he seemed fine. Hawks was breathing in a measured way, now, probably forcing himself to. “What happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” came the quiet reply. Shouta didn’t really want to, either, but he had to know, if for no other reason than the report he would need to fill out. He put a hand on the other man’s shoulder.

“Hawks–”

“Don’t!” Hawks brushed the hand away and rubbed at his eyes. “I know. I know you need to know. She didn’t get as far as she did last time. That’s–I’m not going to–I don’t want to talk about it right now. I just want out of these clothes, and these colors, and I just want to go home!”

“Okay.” Shouta put his hand back on Hawks – Keigo’s shoulder. The younger man didn’t need a coworker right now. He needed a friend. “It’ll be okay, Keigo. The others should be done rounding the other members up by now.”

“Good.” Keigo took a deep breath, and it was like a switch flipped. Gone was the young man, only Hawks remained. “Let’s go wrap this up.”

A twinge of pity hit Shouta’s heart. Keigo was barely older than his third years, and here he was, acting as if nothing was wrong. Acting, acting, acting. How long had the winged hero had to act in the face of…this? Shouta knew every hero had to act fine in the face of tragedy for the benefit of victims and bystanders, but this was something else entirely. This poor boy. Shouta kept his hand on Keigo’s shoulder as they left.

—-------

They stopped by Keigo’s agency to fill out their reports, and then, instead of taking Keigo directly home, Shouta took him to his apartment. Mic was out doing his radio show, so the apartment would be quiet, and - most importantly - safe. Shouta also knew that if Keigo went home, Izuku would be there almost immediately, and this wasn’t something a teenager needed to deal with right now. He couldn’t tell if Keigo appreciated it or not, but that was fine. He wouldn’t make him talk right now. As soon as he sat down, Keigo sent every single feather he had flying through the air around him. Shouta eyed them warily, wondering if the other man was going to slice up his couch. Instead, Keigo threw himself backward, landing in a huff while feathers drifted down above him.

“What’s wrong?”

“I hate this dye. It’s Quirk dye. There’s only two ways to get it out, and the safer one involves me going back to the agency. Hanaka can take it all off with no problem. I should have gone while we were there, but I-I just–”

“What’s the other way?”

“Sticking everything in vinegar. But vinegar’s bad for my feathers, so…”

“Mm.” Shouta made a call to ask for Hanaka to come by while he rifled through his drawers for something that would fit. He didn’t particularly like having people know where he lived, but he’d worked with Hanaka before, and she wasn’t un trustworthy. He sighed. There were very few shirts that would accommodate wings or even wing nubs, but he found a couple baggy ones that would hopefully work. 

“What’s this for?” Keigo asked when Shouta gave him the clothes. 

“To wear. You said you wanted out of those clothes, didn’t you?’

“Well, yeah, but…I mean, these are yours.”

“My clothes not good enough for you?” Shouta raised a brow.

“No, no, it’s not that. It’s just…why?”

“Because you’re my friend,” Shouta answered. He didn’t know exactly when it had happened, but it had. Probably because of dinners with the Midoriyas. If he didn’t know any better, Shouta would say that the mother and son purposefully brought everyone together. But that was fine. Keigo clearly hadn’t had a support system like this when he was growing up. It made Shouta glad for his students, Izuku especially. Growing up in the Commission wouldn’t be an easy thing.

After Keigo changed, the two sat down for a quiet dinner. 

“So.” Shouta wasn’t going to dance around the subject that had been bothering him since they got home. “You said she didn’t get as far as last time. Care to explain?”

“I don’t think I need to explain anything. You know what I meant.”

“Look, I know it’s not an easy subject. But if you don’t at least start talking about it, it might come out when you least mean for it to. And we both know how much Izuku picks up on. So unless you want him asking you about it, you need to talk. I can even get you an appointment with Hound Dog, or another therapist if I need to.”

Keigo sighed, no longer eating his soup, just tapping his spoon in it.

“Fine. I was eighteen, I was stupid and undercover, and I got myself into something I couldn’t find a way out of without blowing my cover. And I did not blow my cover. Then, today, her Quirk, plus my feathers in the state they are right now…it was torture, and I felt like I was eighteen again,” he finished. He pushed his bowl away and went to lie on the couch. Of course, that answer was what Shouta had expected. It didn’t stop him from feeling sorry on the young man’s behalf. He pushed his own bowl away and joined the other in the living room. He sat on the floor.

“It’s okay to be hurt.” Ironic, he knew, coming from Shouta. “You don’t have to be okay all the time.”

“Yes, I do,” came the muffled reply. Keigo had his face stuffed in a pillow.

“No, you don’t. And I’m sorry you didn’t have someone to tell you that before.”

“I had Inko.”

“No, you got sent to Inko. You have Inko now, and Izuku. And me.”

“Wow, you’re actually deigning to include yourself? I thought you didn’t like me.”

Shouta rolled his eyes. 

“You’re loud, and arrogant. But you’re also a kid who deserved to have good people around you, and you didn’t. You’re a good person, not because of the Commission, but in spite of it. And that makes you okay in my book.”

“Heh. Just okay?” Shouta turned to see the stupid grin on Keigo’s face, although it was tired. He scowled, playing along.

“If you want to be more than that, then you’re going to have to stop annoying me.”

Keigo laughed, turning onto his side.

“Well, if I did that, then you wouldn’t be my uncle any more.”

“Uncle! If anything, I’d be your older brother. I’m not old enough to be your uncle.”

“Then my annoyance duties are doubled. Don’t you know it’s a younger brother’s mission in life to annoy his older brother?”

Shouta just gave him a look instead of an answer. Keigo seemed to relax after that, the tension of the day draining away. Hanaka arrived shortly after, and Keigo fell asleep as soon as she was done taking the dye out.

“Thanks for coming,” said Shouta as he showed her out.

“No problem. He’s the best boss I’ve ever had, so I don’t mind making a house call every now and then.”

“You have therapists on staff, right?”

Hanaka raised a petite brow.

“...yes. Do you need one?”

“No, not for me. But you might want to have one of them contact Hawks. I don’t think he’s ever been seen by one, and he’s been a hero for three years now. He’s overdue.”

“Ah. Well, I’ll see what I can do,” she said. "Although...it might be better to have someone at UA find him one. I'm not entirely convinced that the Commission doesn't still have its claws in the agency."

Once Hanaka left, Shouta settled down in his same spot next to the couch. Keigo might be an adult, but sometimes even adults need to be taken care of. And the young man snoring on the couch behind him needed it more than most.

Chapter Text

When Keigo was called to the principal’s office at UA, he couldn’t help but wonder if this was how normal kids felt when it happened. Confused, a bit awed. Nothing the number three hero couldn’t handle. The ‘why’ was the question. Keigo hadn’t met the principal in person, unless you counted the time Izuku had been in the infirmary and the stoat had given him a nod on their way in.

“Ah, Hawks, thank you for coming!” The principal sat in an elevated chair behind his desk, a tea set out in front of him. “Please, take a seat.”

Keigo did, and jumped right back up when the chair moved behind him. He twisted around to see it shifting around, exposing mechanical innards, before settling into an odd shape. The back was half as tall, with a divot in the center. 

“Ah, do you like my new chair? I deal with so many different people, I thought it would be a nice addition.”

“It has a wing outlet,” said Keigo intelligently. He nearly rolled his eyes at himself. “Uh, thanks. That’s thoughtful.”

Despite his initial misgivings, a contented sigh almost escaped his lips when he realized how comfortable it was. He sunk into it, his wings fitting nicely in the back. The chair took the weight off of the muscles that kept his wings up. What a wonderful invention.

“I need to get me one of these.”

“That can certainly be arranged!” Nezu chirped. “But, that’s not why I asked you here.”

“Oh, yeah. What is it you needed?” Keigo asked, fighting to stay focused on the present moment and not the bliss of his back.

“Firstly, I would like to offer the services of the UA counselors, should you need a therapist.”

Well, that got his attention.

“Eraserhead talked to you.” It wasn’t a question so much as a statement. Who else would have told him?

“No, not really, but given my last interaction with him it was not hard to surmise what happened, nor was it hard to find a solution.”

“And you’re just doing this out of the kindness of your heart?” Keigo raised an eyebrow. “Word on the street is, you kinda hate people.”

“I hate some people. And, if I’m honest, Aizawa is one of my favorites. In recent times, he’s been finding you more than tolerable, which is a good enough opinion for me. Which leads me to the second reason I asked you here.” The stoat regarded Keigo with something like mischief in his eyes. “How would you like a second job?”

“Second?” Keigo ran a hand down his face. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m having a hard enough time managing the first one.”

“Hm.” Nezu cocked his head to the side. “I must admit, I did not expect you to admit to that.”

“...Really.”

“Yes.”

“All the same, regardless of what you expected from me, I just…don’t have the time. When the Commission was managing me fully, my schedule didn’t stop. I had mission after meeting, after training…I can’t go back to that. I could keep up, but I was being run into the ground. I have people now. People that care about me. I can’t make them worry.”

“And you wouldn’t. In return for working for me, you would receive adequate help to run your agency, namely one of All Might’s assistants. He offered when he heard I’d be hiring you.”

“When you’d be offering me a job,” Keigo corrected. Nezu continued as if he hadn’t heard a thing.

“In addition, you will be more than compensated for your time. I was thinking we’ll start gradually, specifically with the hero students’ final exams.”

That piqued Keigo’s interest. That meant he’d get to help with Izuku and his classmates. Nezu pushed a tea cup toward him, which he took. 

“So, what would you want me to do?”

The stoat smiled and began explaining how the tests were usually graded by the teachers. This year, he wanted Keigo to be a part of it, and next year he wanted him to teach a single class. Once he knew more of the details, Keigo agreed to it. The deal was getting sweeter by the minute. Less work, while still being a hero, a UA teacher’s salary starting next year. He didn’t even have to look over his shoulder for Commission spies here. And the best part: Nezu was going to send the chair home with him.

—-------

The finals were going well, Shouta thought. Most of his kids had done well on the written portion, and the ones that didn’t still showed marked improvement. He had just finished the second portion with Ururaka and Hagakure. Both had done well, despite being pitted against their homeroom teacher. They had even managed to launch him into the air like a balloon on the end of his scarf, and when he made his way down, Hagakure had slapped one of the cuffs onto his wrist. He wouldn’t lie, he was proud. And a little motion sick. The brief foray into the sky had twisted him around, over and over. Shouta had a newfound sympathy for Ururaka, but that wasn’t going to stop him from training her to be stronger.

He slumped onto a chair between Hizashi and Keigo, who was watching a monitor like a hawk. Several monitors, actually. The viewing room would be used for all of the teachers to grade the students. Keigo had claimed his corner and had spread several notebooks out in front of him. Every few seconds, the bird-like man darted to a notebook, made a note, and sat back again. Shouta was glad to see some energy from him. It had only been a week since the undercover-op-gone-bad, and Izuku had mentioned that Keigo still wasn’t back to normal yet. The kid didn’t know any specifics, hopefully, but he’d noticed. It seemed that the current distraction was keeping Keigo happy, though.

“Could’ve dodged better if they utilized both Quirks in tandem,” he muttered while Shouta sipped at a ginger ale. “Gotta give some tips for that Iida kid.”

Hizashi watched with a fond look on his face. He rolled his chair back so Keigo couldn’t see when he started signing to Shouta.

He’s good at this, Hizashi signed.

Good hero, too, Shouta signed back. Needs to relax, though.

Needs his own sleeping bag, Hizashi grinned. Shouta rolled his eyes, but that honestly wasn’t the worst idea. Maybe it would encourage Keigo to take a break.

“I can feel you two talking about me,” the hero in question said without taking his eyes off the screen. Keigo’s wings flapped when he spoke, brushing over Shouta’s head. The man was currently perched on a rolling chair, in a squat. If he hadn’t been constantly moving this entire time, Shouta would wonder how he wasn’t in pain yet. “You can talk out loud. It’s not like I can’t tell what you’re saying.”

“You know sign?” Shouta asked at the same time Hizashi asked how sensitive his feathers really were.

“Of course I do.”

“Of course he does, Aizawa!” Hizashi gestured grandly. “He’s the number three hero.”

“Oh, right. Silly me,” said Shouta in the most deadpan voice he could muster. Keigo let out a huff of breath that could have been interpreted as a laugh. Shouta decided to ask about the notebooks. “What do you have so far?”

Keigo pointed to each notebook as he spoke, and Shouta was reminded of Izuku’s own notes. It seemed the hero and the hero student were similar in that regard.

“Todoroki and Tokoyami versus All Might. Rocky start, Dark Shadow kept hindering Shoto’s movement and Shoto kept scaring Dark Shadow off with his fire. Worked out, though, I think they’ll pass. Sato and Kirishima versus Cementoss was a hard fail. Kinda hard to watch, actually. They tried really hard. Jiro and Sato versus Mic here looked like it would end in a fail, but they managed to pull it off. Kaminari and Ashido versus Ectoplasm was a closer call than I thought it would be, given the history I was told. They actually had a halfway decent plan, just executed it too quickly. You know what happened with Ururaka and Hagakure.” Keigo gave him a sly look. “How’s that motion sickness treating you, by the way?”

Instead of answering, Shouta tossed his empty soda bottle at the winged hero’s head. Keigo deftly caught and disposed of it in one smooth movement, a satisfied smirk on his face. Shouta shook his head.

“You’re as annoying as my students.”

“Aw, you like me! You really like me!”

It was nice to see Keigo acting like this, like a person. Not a hint of persona in sight. Hizashi exchanged a glance with Shouta, letting him know he felt the same. Of all people, Hizashi was the one that could understand persona issues the best, and Shouta wondered if he’d given Keigo some advice, or maybe just a shoulder to lean on.  

“Who’s up right now?” Shouta asked. Keigo pointed to each screen as a couple other teachers drifted in. They all gave them space.

“Mineta and Sero versus Midnight, Bakugo and Shoji versus Vlad King, Ojiro and Aouama versus Powerloader, Iida and Tsu versus Snipe. And it looks like Izuku and Yaoyorozu versus Nezu is nearly done.”

“Turn that one back to the beginning. I want to see it.”

“You two shouldn’t be allowed to grade them,” Hizashi tutted. “He’s both of your favorites.”

“You know I’m a harsh judge,” said Shouta. “I’m not going to go easy on him.”

“I might…” Keigo admitted as he pressed play.

The buzzer to begin went off, and with it came the maniacal cackling of Nezu. The next several minutes were quite enjoyable. It seemed that Izuku let Yaoyorozu come up with the plan, which was to divide and conquer. Yaoyorozu provided the biggest distractions she could, and Izuku…parkoured up and through walls. Shouta couldn’t believe his eyes. The boy had previously not been able to activate that ability on command, and suddenly…?

“Did you know he could do that?” Shouta asked Keigo.

“No, I didn’t. He’s gonna be tired later,” Keigo laughed, stretching in his seat. He winced.

“You okay?” Hizashi asked. 

“Yeah, I just need some new shirts. They keep catching on my feathers because I’ve gotten fatter in the last few months. Pretty soon I’ll rival Fatgum,” he joked. 

“Nah,” said Hizashi, “you’re just getting up to a normal amount of body fat. When you debuted, I always wondered how you managed to look muscled and scrawny at the same time.”

“It was probably the diet.” Keigo picked up the notebook for Izuku and Yaoyorozu, pretending to be distracted. “The Commission was pretty strict about that.”

“Well, good thing you’ve got Mama Midoriya to help you out,” Hizashi replied, instantly lifting the suddenly depressing atmosphere. He was good at that. 

“Yeah. Her food is to die for. Last week she…” Keigo trailed off, squinting at the screen in front of him. “Hey, Eraser, is that a UA employee?”

Shouta looked, then got closer to the screen. There was a woman in the corner of the exit on the testing grounds. She stopped Izuku, and after ushering Yaoyorozu on, she took Izuku by the shoulder and they left the shot.

“When did they finish?” He asked. The answer was nearly ten minutes ago. Shouta shot out of his seat and addressed the other teachers. “Has anyone seen Izuku in the last ten minutes?”

A chorus of no’s. Shouta radioed the other teachers, as well as Nezu, with the same question. Everyone said no. Adrenaline shot through his body, and a glance at the others told him they were experiencing the same. Keigo's face was pale, almost gaunt in the light of the monitors. 

A student was missing. And that student was Izuku.

Chapter Text

“Welcome to your new home,” the woman said tersely as she let Izuku out of the car. Izuku merely glared. He wasn’t entirely sure where he was, aside from a parking garage. The woman led him into the building. It looked like headquarters, but he sort of doubted it was. The HPSC wouldn’t house an asset anywhere easily accessible by any hero. He hadn’t seen the outside of the building. The inside had the same beige walls, the same (probably fake) potted plants placed every thirty feet, the same nondescript doors. No placards outside the doors, though. To Izuku’s knowledge, only headquarters had those, and even then, only for doors that the heroes might need. All the other doors were only used by the people who were supposed to be there. If you didn’t know what a door was for, you didn’t belong behind it. 

The woman took him up three flights of stairs while he tried to keep the butterflies in his stomach still. How had he gotten himself into this mess? Well, the answer was that he hadn’t. This woman had approached him after his final exam, and after shooing Yaoyorozu away, had told him to come with her. He, of course, had refused. Except then she brought out a warrant for his arrest. His arrest! Izuku hadn’t done a thing wrong in his life. But, according to the document, he had breached his and his mother’s contracts with the HPSC. They would be forcibly removing him from Midoriya Inko’s care, even without the arrest warrant. Apparently, the warrant was warranted because they didn’t think he’d come peaceably. …They would have been right. He had thought he was free from them. Apparently not. 

To make matters even worse, Oboro and Nana hadn’t been with him. When the exam had been won, the two had gone to tell their respective hauntees, despite the fact that Yagi, Aizawa, and Yamada wouldn’t be able to hear them. In hindsight, Izuku could have summoned someone, but then what? Ghosts couldn’t legally change anything. The HPSC had legal custody of him for the next four years. If not longer. Izuku wasn’t even sure what was in his contract. It had been signed when he was four, when he was technically unofficially adopted by his mom. 

The woman, who still hadn’t told Izuku a name or codename, knocked on a door and was bid to enter. Izuku’s heart froze when he saw the person sitting behind the desk. Madam President. He hadn’t seen her since the mission with Eraserhead. She looked as calm as ever. Hair slicked back, posture poised, eyes icy. She made a small gesture with her hand, and the woman that escorted him here closed the door with a soft click. It was just the two of them now.

“Take a seat, Izuku.” 

The boy bristled at being addressed by his first name. With Mom, or Aizawa, or Yagi, it was fine. With her? How dare. How dare she. Izuku pointedly did not do as he was told. He took a place firmly behind the offered chair. The woman tsked, and shook her head. Izuku had a hard time reading her, as always, but since he’d been more aware of his Quirk lately, he’d gotten better. He could actually make out her irritation - which was obvious - and the underlying excitement. Whatever she was excited about couldn’t be good.

“Fine. If you want to stand, you can stand.” As if he needed her permission. “We have a lot to talk about, young man.”

“Shouldn’t I be allowed a phone call?” Izuku asked. “Since I’ve been arrested and all.”

“You haven’t been arrested, Izuku. You’ve been reclaimed.” Madam President placed her neatly folded hands on the table, as if she were a principal about to reprimand a student. “I’ve had you brought here so we can further train you.”

“I’m getting trained,” said Izuku, “at UA.”

“UA is too…heavy handed. We’re going to train you into the asset we know you can be.”

“Don’t you think my mom might have something to say about this?”

Madam President’s excitement spiked, and Izuku fought to keep his apprehension off of his face. They hadn’t done something to his mom, right?

“Agent Midoriya couldn’t do anything if she wanted to. Legally, you are ours. So is Hawks, actually. We’ve allowed him to take a brief hiatus.” 

Okay, despite Madam President’s emotions, that had to be a blatant lie. Keigo was an adult, and had legally separated from the HPSC completely. They had no control over him. But…she was so confident. What if they did? A shiver ran up Izuku’s spine.

“Even if I’m legally yours,” Izuku said, “I have a lot of people looking out for me now. You can’t just make me disappear and expect them not to come running.”

“Can and will. You are an asset that will be used in the fight against evil in this world. Just as you always wanted to be.”

“No, I always wanted to be a hero,” Izuku defended. “I don’t want to be a part of…this. I’m going to be a hero.”

“Yes, you will,” said Madam President. “It just may not take the form you most desire. Tell me, what is the most important thing about being a hero?”

“Saving people,” Izuku answered without hesitation. He cringed inwardly. He hadn’t meant to answer. She didn’t deserve his answers.

“Correct. And the best way to do that is to have assets that can keep everything in line. Namely, you and Hawks. You’ve always wanted to work with him, haven’t you? Your…big brother.” This time, Izuku stayed silent. Madam President forged on. “You’ll complete your training here, and then you’ll be able to help so many people.”

“I can do that at UA,” Izuku snapped. Madam President’s expression darkened as she rounded her desk, anger like a frozen lake washing over him. Her hand flew across his face before he knew what was happening. Izuku tripped backward, gingerly pressing against the wound after he landed on his butt. Blood tinged his fingers. Her nails had dug in.

“Do not talk back,” she said calmly. Izuku couldn’t help the fear that flashed across his face. She had never done that before. She walked behind her desk and pressed a button. Instantly, Izuku became aware of a lack of feeling. Nothing from Madam President, nothing from the agent outside the door. Izuku shook as he tried not to let his anxiety take over. He didn’t like not being able to feel.

“What you are feeling now is a Quirk suppressor. Starting now, you will not be able to use your Quirk outside of training. We know from experiences when you were small that a few agents have ghosts that follow them. These agents have been selected to help with your training. You will not be interacting with any other ghosts.” Her stare turned deadly. “If you do not comply, you will find yourself in the corrections facility. We have no room for disobedience.”

Izuku had a feeling that, somehow, she would find a way to rope Mom or Keigo, or both, into whatever the corrections facility was. He would tread carefully, and bide his time. If he was complicit enough, someone would eventually slip up, and he’d get out of here. With One for All on his side now, he would be unstoppable. Izuku couldn’t help one last jab, though.

“Do you really think my Mom won’t do something about this? There’s a reason people are afraid of her.”

As it turned out, Madam President had a jab herself.

“Who do you think she’s afraid of?”

—-------

“What do you mean he’s missing?!” Inko practically shrieked into the phone. Aizawa’s voice came in bursts and gasps. He was probably running.

“A woman, who Nezu has just confirmed is a Commission agent, somehow accessed campus and took Izuku out with her. Hawks is patrolling in the sky right now, looking for the car. Nezu is working on getting video surveillance of it and I’m going to follow.”

“What about the ghosts?”

“I don’t think they saw anything. If you have any contacts that could help get him back, now’s the time to call them.”

“Give me a moment.”

She sat forward and addressed the empty living room.

“First? Are you here?” Something slightly colder than room temperature passed through her arm. “Can you take me to Tenko?”

The cold feeling washed through her.

“Aizawa,” she said. “I’m going to need you to watch Shoto for a few days.”

“Understood. Good luck.”

Inko took a steadying breath and got her keys. 

“All right. Let’s go.”

Chapter Text

The last thing the League of Villains expected was a knock on the door. Everyone turned to face the strange sound. Twice nudged Toga.

“Hey, you should go see who it is. Yeah, open the door and stab them!”

“Okay!” 

Toga tried to do it, but Tomura stopped her. Something in his gut told him he needed to answer it.The others cast suspicious glances at him. He cracked the door open, a question of what the person wanted on his lips, when he realized who it was. He quickly stepped through the door and held it closed behind him, pinkies out so he didn’t decay the door.

“What are you doing here?” Tomura hissed. 

“I’m here to join you,” said Agent Midoriya. She crossed her arms. “Got a problem with that?”

“Wha-why–”

Midoriya gently moved him from the door and entered the bar. The others either tensed or jumped into fighting stances. Except for Dabi, who looked about as unconcerned as he usually did. Tomura followed her in, wondering why he was letting this happen.

“Hello, everyone. I’m your new coworker. You can call me Inko.”

“Aren’t you one of those Commission people?” Dabi asked from the couch, leaning his head over the arm. He had one leg cast over the top, too. Lazy man.

“Technically, yes.” Inko folded her arms. “However, I’ve just found myself in a situation that I can’t solve by myself.”

“Did they kill someone you love?” Toga asked, maybe a little too eager. “Was there blood?”

Tomura cringed. Hopefully Toga didn’t cause an issue. He kind of liked Agent Midoriya…Inko. He didn’t particularly want something to happen to her, or her family. For her sake. 

“He’s not dead,” Inko said, though her voice had frozen over. “But my employers took him in more ways than one. I don’t know where he is. If you’ll help me find him and bring him back, you can have my services. I have more than enough clearance to find information for you, and until I get my son back, I have absolutely no reservations about using it.”

“Do you really think we would believe you?” Spinner asked, twirling a katana in his hands. “This is obviously some ploy.”

“Yeah, you probably want to trick us,” said Twice. “Let her in, she looks like a mom!”

“Or, perhaps we should hear her out,” said Mr. Compress. “After all, sometimes government workers can be corrupt.

Inko’s phone rang, as if on a cue. She held a finger to her lips and answered it on speaker.

“Agent Midoriya,” came a female voice. “The asset assigned to you has been relocated. You are to report to headquarters to be reassigned.”

“A bit late for that,” she chirped. “I’ve found my next assignment. Tell the president to go screw herself.”

“Excuse me?” Another voice, presumably the president.

“Ah, hello, Madam President. I had a feeling you’d be listening in.”

“Agent Midoriya, where are you?”

“Right where I’m supposed to be. I’ve found my next assignment, since you so graciously decided to remove my last one.” Inko couldn’t quite keep the sneer off her face. It looked out of place, and Tomura found himself hoping it went away soon.

“Agent Midoriya–” Inko hung up. 

“There. Now they’ll think I’m playing it up. I’ve been nothing but the most obedient little drone for the last twenty years, and they have no reason to think otherwise.”

“None of you are buying this, right?” Dabi asked, sitting up. “If she was Commission, then she’ll be Commission until the end, right, Inko?”

“Of course not. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know, but maybe I should take a little blood,” said Toga, approaching with a knife. “I bet you taste good.”

Instead of backing away, or cringing back, the woman merely raised a hand. Toga’s knife leapt into the air. It twirled slowly, end over end, until it sat in Inko’s palm.

“Now, now, dear. It isn’t nice to hurt people. But if you like blood…” Inko held out her arm and pulled back the sleeve of her sweater. “...you can have some. But! You need to ask first.”

Toga gasped.

“Can I have some blood?”

“Yes, you may,” Inko said sweetly. Toga gleefully nommed down on Inko’s exposed flesh, slurping at it. A trickle of blood ran out of the corner of her mouth and dripped on the floor. Kurogiri usually chastised messes like that, but he merely watched from behind the bar. Toga began to shift into another Inko.

“All right, dear. That’s enough for now,” Inko said as she pulled her arm away. She produced two bandaids from her purse, All Might themed, and placed them over the punctures. “It looks like your Quirk gives your saliva some blood coagulant. I barely even need these! And what lovely little teeth marks you make. So dainty!”

“She likes my teeth!” Toga grinned as she shifted back to herself and bounced over to Tomura. “Can we keep her, Shiggy? Please, please, please?”

“Yeah, if she likes Toga we should keep her! No, let’s get rid of her!”

Tomura wasn’t sure what to do. This all felt surreal. His mouth opened a few times, but nothing came out. Spinner decided to take the lead, advancing on the woman. He put the tip of his katana at her throat.

“I don’t trust you,” he growled.

“And you shouldn’t!” She replied. “I’m a stranger to you, and strangers can absolutely be dangerous! I’m sure you know that very well, uh…what was your name, dear?”

“Spinner.”

“Spinner. Lovely. I apologize if what I’m about to ask is a little out of left field, but…could I see your scales up close? I won’t touch them, I promise.”

“Why?” Spinner asked, eyes narrowed. 

“My son just loves analyzing Quirks,” she said, “and I’m afraid some of that rubbed off on me at some point in the last few years. Those are gecko scales, are they not?”

“...yeah.”

“Gorgeous,” Inko breathed out, leaning in closer. Spinner’s katana nicked her neck, but she seemed not to notice. Toga licked her lips, then suddenly darted in and ran her tongue over the cut, pushing the katana out of the way. She giggled and danced away. Spinner stomped after her. 

“What do you think of my Quirk?” Twice asked. “Don’t answer, I don’t care!”

“You’re Twice,” Inko said. “I’ve heard about you, and your Quirk is fascinating, but I’m afraid I don’t know much about it. You’ll have to tell me about it one of these days. But it’s not the Quirk that makes the person, you know! And I can just tell you care about your friends very much.”

“I do,” he said. “Of course I do!”

Inko smiled, laughing a little. She really had such a kind face. Compress must have thought so, too, because he took his mask off and lounged at the bar. It seemed that she was winning everyone over one at a time. Dabi approached then, and Tomura worried that maybe he was going to kill her. Instead, the hard look in his eyes softened. 

“You’re a mom,” he said with a funny tone in his voice.

“Yes, I am.”

He gave her an appraising look, then asked, “You got any kids books at home?”

And if that wasn’t the weirdest question that could have come out of the man’s mouth. Dabi had been acting weird lately, ever since he was assigned to work with Overhaul. In fact, he was barely here. He always seemed to be ducking out to go do things over there, and one time Tomura could have sworn the scarred man had been carrying a full Barbie playset and a stack of wood. He couldn’t imagine what Overhaul had going on, but whatever it was, it was weird. Especially if Dabi was asking for books.

“I have a few from when Izuku was little, I think,” she replied. “Why do you need them?”

“None of your business.” Dabi turned away but paused. “Next time you come here, bring some. And toys, if you’ve got any.”

“Ooh, you like cosplaying as a toddler?” Twice asked. “Or are you a baby daddy?”

In response, Dabi just flipped Twice off. Inko shook her head.

“That’s not very nice, Dabi. And Twice, you shouldn’t say things like that. Whatever reason he has, I’m sure it’s a good one. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I only came to give you my phone number today. I have another son to get home to.”

“She must actually be serious if she’s telling us she has another son,” Tomura heard Spinner say to Dabi. “I wouldn’t provide that information at all if I were her.”

“I really shouldn’t,” she said, addressing the lizard man. “But you can see what I’m willing to do for one son here. I’m sure you don’t want to cause me pain by targeting the other one, right?”

The question seemed innocent, but there was an underlying current of danger that no one missed. And, honestly, Tomura didn’t think anyone would want to cross this woman. She really was like them. She would do anything to achieve her own goals, even if it meant razing the country to the ground. 

The TV crackled on then, and everyone immediately gathered round. Or at the very least, they gave it their attention.

“You would truly reject everything you have stood for to work with us?” Sensei’s voice asked. “Then prove it.”

“How?” Inko must have a backbone of steel, with the way she spoke to him. Honestly, if he had to name what she sounded like, the word that came to mind was ‘angry’. 

“Will you abandon one son for the other?”

“Excuse me?”

“You are currently caring for a second boy. Are you going to abandon him?”

“Hardly. But that’s none of your business, and I’ve got it handled.”

When Sensei spoke again, Tomura knew he was just trying to get under Inko’s skin. It was the same tone he used with anyone he threatened.

“Not much of a mother, then, are you?”

“Now, listen here…what was your name?”

“You may call me Sensei.”

“I will not be doing that. Listen, sir, I am offering my services temporarily in exchange for saving my son. It’s clear that you are the one calling the shots, and I can guarantee you that I will be loyal as long as I get my son back. If this is a good enough deal, then maybe I’ll even stay. My boys are both set on being heroes, but if this group ends up being heroic enough, I might even be able to bring them with me. The one just wants to save as many people as he can, and the other wants to escape his father’s shadow. If becoming villains is what we have to do to make my boys happy, then maybe the hero society needs to change.”

“Temporarily…unacceptable. You cannot be counted on to stay quiet about all that is happening here.”

“I can and will. My number one concern in my life is my family, and I will do anything to take care of them.”

“You’re certainly a determined woman.”

“That I am. Now, do we have a deal, or not?”

Chapter Text

Izuku’s room was really more of a cell. The door was locked behind him. A stiff mattress on concrete raised a few inches off the floor. A sink with a toothbrush and toothpaste. A single light inlaid in the ceiling. That was it. Not even a poster. And everything was just…so quiet. Too quiet. Clearly, whatever Quirk suppressor they used was active here, too. Izuku curled onto the bed, shivering a bit in the cold air. There wasn’t even a sheet on the bed to wrap up in. Just him, his hero suit, and the cold. The lights shut off, and he bit back a sob. It was so, so quiet. And no ghosts. No living people. He was all alone. It wouldn’t be so bad, if anyone else knew where he was. But they didn’t. He couldn’t break out using One for All. He couldn’t send a ghost out. Tears slipped down his cheeks until he fell into a fitful sleep.

What felt like a few minutes must have turned into an entire night, because next thing he knew, he was being forced up and having his clothes stripped off. He fought against the hands, and managed to sock someone in the mouth in his half asleep state. The hands disappeared after that, and Izuku was able to wake up a little more before someone came back. He shivered, shirtless. The lights were on again. The people that came back were…big, was the only word that would do them justice. Three men and a woman. They took his clothes and forced him into a plain t-shirt and sweats.

“I could have done that myself!” He yelled after them when they left. The shivering got worse now that he didn’t have all those layers on. His hero suit wasn’t exactly a winter coat, but the armor had provided at least a little protection. 

Another man showed up to escort Izuku down a long hall to a concrete lined room. Once again, he got locked inside. There were gouges in the walls and floor, a few places where someone powerful had punched and left exposed rebar. In the center of the room, there was a man with long, dark hair pulled into a ponytail, and a ghost that looked almost identical to him, but missing his right eye.

“Hello, Asset Three. My name is Nonaka. I’ll be your trainer and handler here.”

“Um, hi. I think I remember you from when I was litt–oof!” Something hit Izuku from behind, and he went down. His head cracked against the cement.

“First rule,” said Nonaka. “No speaking unless given permission to.”

Izuku shakily stood back up, rubbing his aching head. The scratches on his cheek from the president seemed like nothing in comparison.

“Pay close attention,” said Nonaka, and he darted forward. Izuku reacted on instinct, months of hand-to-hand with Aizawa kicking in. He kept up pretty well for a few minutes, until something hit him from behind again. This time, he caught something transparent and black dodging behind his shoulder.

“What was that? What’s on me?” He asked. The thing hit him again, and again he went down. This time, he was able to brace himself.

“Rule one.” Nonaka stood back in a relaxed position. He held something in his hand now. “Your hand-to-hand skills are adequate for your age and stature. I saw what you did in the Sports Festival. Show me what you can do now.”

The man pressed what was in his hand, and suddenly Izuku could feel again. Nonaka and the ghost had waves of excitement and irritation and about twenty other things coming from them. With his head already aching, it wasn’t fun. Izuku curled over, fighting the nausea. Nonaka huffed his disapproval. He pressed the button again, and everything went away. Izuku collapsed to the floor. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it. And then Nonaka pressed it again, and this time Izuku did throw up. Bile soaked into the knees of his pants as he struggled to breathe.

“Ugh, what’s wrong with you? You didn’t have any Quirk problems in the festival.”

Izuku forced himself to think, despite the headache and the emotional whiplash. The man was only talking about the festival, so maybe they didn’t know about his final exam. Izuku had figured out intangibility literally the night before. So, maybe that was a tool in his arsenal that they didn’t know about. They also probably didn’t know about the emotion-sensing. He shook as he stood, hoping he could find more things to add to his list.

“M-my Quirk has f-feedback when its s-switched on and o-off,” he said. He was rewarded with another hit to the back. This one was even harder than the last ones. Izuku’s arms were definitely bruised already.

“Rule one.” Izuku stayed quiet. “Now, I’m going to ask you a question, and you may answer. How did you manage the feats in the Sports Festival? Your Quirk should not have been able to do what it did.”

“I-I harnessed a ghost’s Quirk,” he said. It wasn’t technically a lie, but the man didn’t need to know about One for All. 

“All right. Something we’ll work on, then.” Nonaka asked another question then. “What do you think my Quirk is?”

“I think–” Izuku was knocked forward, half sliding through the puddle of puke. He gagged and scrambled back up.

“Rule one. I didn’t give you permission to speak.” Then Nonaka answered his earlier question, “My Quirk is called Hide Behind. I can latch a hide behind onto anyone I choose. Once I’ve put it on, not even a Quirk suppressor can stop it. It responds to whatever I want it to do. It’ll be on your back until I tell it to leave. And the best part? No one but you can see it. Haha, just another thing only you can see.”

Izuku raised his hand as if he were in class. He really wanted away from this man, and this room. 

“Speak.”

“I need to use the bathroom.”

“You will have a break for breakfast in an hour.”

“But I need to use–” Izuku was hit again. He whimpered on the floor.

“Rule what?” Nonaka lifted his chin as if he were superior somehow while looking down at the boy. Izuku didn’t say anything. “Hm. Good, you’re learning. Takes most people a couple of days to do that. You have potential, Asset Three.”

The next hour passed with Izuku having to do what he could with the man’s ghost buddy and trying not to talk. The hide behind would give him a savage hit when he spoke, but after a while, Izuku noticed it would give him a less savage tap if he stopped himself after a word or two. By the time he was escorted to breakfast, he had a pretty good handle on himself. 

Breakfast was nothing fancy. Just plain, bland oatmeal, sprinkled with some sort of nutritional packet. It was given to him in what was basically a bathroom with a table. A change of clothes was provided, and an agent with a healing Quirk had been stationed there, so his head was fixed in a matter of seconds. He really wanted to shower, but he just changed into the clean clothes while trying to ignore the agent. The hide behind shoved him into the table.

“You need to shower first,” the agent said in a whisper, as if she wasn’t supposed to say anything. She trained her eyes on the ceiling. Izuku found himself being very grateful for this agent. He rinsed off in the curtainless shower, then tried for the clothes again. The hide behind left him alone. 

The rest of the day went similarly. More training, followed by a snack or a meal. Showers seemed to be reserved for when his state was too disgusting to let it go. There was a break every two hours, and the two hours following dinner were spent on academic learning. Aside from Nonaka and the sentence from the healer agent, no one talked to him much. Izuku felt more and more empty as the hours ticked on. 

When he collapsed into bed at the end of the night, he wrinkled his nose against the smell of sweat drifting from his shirt. He didn’t particularly like that smell. But, day one down. Just a few more to go. It had to just be a few more, because there was no way that Mom would let him rot here. Or Keigo. Or Aizawa. Or Yagi. Even Yamada-sensei might be looking for him, who knew? The lights went out, and Izuku resigned himself to another cold night of sleep. Everything would be okay. He just needed to get through a few more days.

Chapter Text

“So, whatcha want for dinner, little listener?”

Shoto shrugged. He didn’t know. He didn’t know a lot of things right now. Things like why he was in Aizawa’s apartment instead of his own, why Inko was suddenly out of town, why Hawks was also here, why Izuku wasn’t…why, why, why. And to top it all off, there was a bug going around the school, and he was pretty sure he’d caught it.

“Whatever you’re making,” he said in a scratchy voice. He sat at the counter opposite the kitchen, where Yamada was pulling out a variety of cookware. It was different than the Midoriya’s, a little bigger, but still had a pretty homey feel to it.

“Eesh, you feeling okay, Todoroki? You sound terrible.”

“Is it that bad?” Shoto asked.

“Well, it’s not good. Good thing it’s the weekend.”

“Sure.” Shoto laid his head on the cool countertop, relishing the relief it brought his poor head. The last time he’d felt anywhere near this bad was the Sports Festival, and at least then he hadn’t had to contend with a sore throat. “When are Hawks and Aizawa-sensei coming back?”

“I’m afraid they’ll both be out late tonight. They’ve got a lead in their case, and they’re both pretty good at getting wrapped up in what they’re doing.”

“Mm.”

Yamada’s brows furrowed, and he set aside what he was doing. Shoto moved his head so he could see him better. The man looked concerned, like something was very wrong.

“What?” Shoto winced when his voice cracked. It sent a sharp, stabbing pain down the back of his throat. Wow, that hurt. 

“Why don’t you go lie down, bud? I’ll come get you when dinner’s ready.”

He didn’t really want to. The guest room here was nice and all, but he wanted to sleep in his bed with the All Might sheets. Inko had said he could keep them, wasn’t that nice? And Izuku had given him a couple of figurines to decorate. He missed his figurines, and his dresser, and pretty much everything. He didn’t think he could miss a room so much.

“I’m good.” 

“Well, at least move to the couch. It’s not that far away, and I’m sure you don’t feel like sitting up right now.”

Yamada-sensei might be right. Shoto decided he would lay on the couch, just for a minute. This was merely a cold, after all. It may not be fun, but it wasn’t anything to worry about. As he sunk into the cushions, Shoto couldn’t help but wonder what Izuku was doing, wherever he was. Was he sick, too? Had he caught a cold? Hopefully not. 

Before he knew it, dinner was ready and on the coffee table. Shoto frowned at it, then at the couch. Surely this couch was too nice to eat on. Eating in the living room was a common occurrence at home, at the Midoriya’s. Was it normal here, too?

“All right, up you get,” said Yamada, helping Shoto to sit up. He didn’t need the help, of course, but it was kind of nice. “I made soup.”

“Thank you,” Shoto rasped. It was good, the soup. He was a little too tired to figure out which soup it was. As he ate, his eyes drooped, and his hand dropped involuntarily. The spoon fell, and a trail of chicken broth dirtied both the couch and the floor below. He scrambled to clean it up, nearly sloshing the rest of the soup over the side of his bowl. “I’m so sorry, Yama–”

Shoto’s apology cut itself short with coughing. When it abated, his lungs and throat burned as if they had been scraped raw. Yamada just smiled that kind smile of his, one hand rubbing Shoto’s back, and the other holding Shoto’s bowl. When had he taken that? Whatever, it didn’t matter. All that mattered right now was that Shoto really, really wanted the people that weren’t here right now. 

“A little better?” 

“Not really,” Shoto replied, holding his aching chest. 

“All right, sit tight.” Yamada disappeared with the bowl and brought a mug and a rag back. He used the rag on the spilled soup and gave Shoto the mug. “Here. This should help. It’s honey lemon.”

The drink wasn’t too bad, even had some cinnamon. Although the high concentration of lemon didn’t really do his stomach any favors, it was certainly helping his throat. He drained the cup, enjoying what little of it he could smell. His nose was starting to get stuffed up, and he didn’t appreciate it. Yamada brought him a little garbage can and a box of tissues.

“You can stay right here for the rest of the night, if you want,” he said, taking a seat next to Shoto. “It’s no fun being sick all by yourself.”

“It’s no fun being sick at all,” Shoto replied. Yamada laughed, and agreed. He turned the TV on, left the volume low, and they just sat. Occasionally Shoto would blow his nose or cough, but no more coughing fits like the first one happened. Eventually, Shoto found himself too tired to sit up straight, so he laid down, only to sit right back up because that made his poor nose block off even worse.

“Ugh, trying to find a good position to sleep in is really hard when you’re sick, isn’t it?” Yamada asked, scooting a little closer. He put his hand against Shoto’s forehead, and Shoto leaned in. How wonderfully cool that hand was. Shoto leaned in before he realized what he was doing. Instead of pushing him away or telling him to get off, like he expected, Yamada just shifted to a more comfortable position and let the boy tuck into his side. “Well, I know I’m not Aizawa, but are you comfortable?”

Shoto nodded. It still wasn’t perfect, but nothing would be until he was okay again.

“Good. I’ll tell Hawks to grab some cough medicine on the way home.”

A hand ran up and down Shoto’s arm for a while, long enough for whatever movie had been on to end. Yamada helped him up then, made sure he brushed his teeth, and tucked him into bed. He left the tissues with him, which Shoto somehow ended up clutching like a teddy bear. It wasn’t much later - or maybe it was way later? It was hard to tell - that he woke himself with a coughing fit that left him winded and gagging. He spat out snot that had drained into the back of his throat and wished with all his heart that this would stop. Salty tears dripped down his face, dropping from his nose and chin. 

“Todoroki?” Yamada knocked on the edge of the open door, although that was clearly unnecessary. “You okay, bud?”

“I don’t feed good,” he croaked, another coughing fit wracking his chest. Yamada disappeared, possibly after saying something, but Shoto couldn’t really tell. A moment later, a cup of water was being pressed to his lips. That was better. The water soothed his abused throat.

“There. You want anything else? I can make some tea?”

Suddenly the urge to cry was overpowering. 

“I want Inko,” Shoto cried quietly.

“I’m sorry, little listener.” Yamada sat next to him, careful not to crush the tissue box. Shoto didn’t know why he bothered. The box was already bent from him grasping it so violently.

“I want Aizawa.”

“He’ll be back in a while, Todoroki.”

“Don’t call me that,” Shoto whined.

“Shoto, then.” Yamada brushed strands of white hair out of Shoto’s eyes. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll stay right here until he gets home. Okay?”

He wasn’t Aizawa, but he’d do, so Shoto nodded. Yamada started humming like Inko did when everyone was getting ready for bed. Once again, he found himself drifting to sleep. This time when he woke, he knew it hadn’t been long. Yamada had barely moved. And it wasn’t a coughing fit this time, it was noise.

“Everything okay?” A voice said from the door. Hawks.

“Just a sick kiddo,” said Yamada, his voice soft. Shoto was glad for it; he wasn’t sure he could have handled anything louder right now. And he desperately didn’t want to move, not even his mouth in order to talk.

“Well, that’s no fun.” Hawks tossed a grocery bag to Yamada, who fumbled but caught it. “Got the cold medicine. You’ll feel a lot better in a minute, kid. That stuff’ll knock you right out.”

“Thank you, Takami,” said Yamada. Hawks’ wings shuddered.

“Man, I am still not used to that.”

“It’ll get easier the more people use it.” Yamada had Shoto sit up, even though he didn’t want to. “Come on, it’s just a few sips, then you can lay back down.”

Shoto did as he was told, hoping to get it over with. After the first sip of the pungent red liquid, however, he gagged. Oh, that was disgusting. No amount of relief could possibly be worth that.

“Come on, just a little more, bud, you’re doing great.” No, he wasn’t. He was being more of a baby than he ever had. But he didn’t care right now, so he made a face at that…stuff. Shoto looked to Hawks for support, but the man had already gone back to the living room, where he’d been sleeping for the last few days. Instead, Aizawa stood in the doorway.

“Drink your medicine, kid,” he said in a gruff, tired voice. Well, Shoto was loathe to disobey his homeroom teacher. He drank the rest of it like a shot, hoping that the less time on his tongue, the less he’d taste. Unfortunately, it was just as gross and the aftertaste wasn’t great either. Yamada huffed out something that might’ve been a laugh before handing him his water to wash the taste out of his mouth. Surprisingly, the medicine worked almost immediately, and Shoto took the first full breath through his nose in the last several hours. Okay. Maybe the taste was worth it. 

After he had settled back into bed, clearly much more comfortable now, Yamada bid him goodnight. He and Aizawa stood just outside the door, which was cracked open and leaked light in. He wondered if they thought he was asleep already.

“Did you find him?” Yamada asked in a hushed voice. Aizawa sighed and told him ‘no’ in the most defeated voice Shoto had ever heard from him. 

“It’s like every time we find something, it’s fake. Not even Nezu has been able to pinpoint much. There’s barely even a mention of him in the database. Just a few papers saying his mother signed him over to their custody, which I don’t believe for a minute.”

“There’ll be something, Sho, it’s just going to take some time.”

“Time that he may not have, Zashi. And this isn’t easy on Keigo, either. Something bad goes on behind closed doors, and I think he’s gone through it too.”

“Well, hey, if Hawks got through it, then there’s hope yet! Just hang in there. Everyone working on this is a force to be reckoned with, and with all of you on the case, Midoriya will be back before you know it.”

“We can hope,” was the last thing Shoto heard. Izuku was…missing? Or… Inko? Maybe…both…? He and his classmates had been told there was an emergency with Inko’s mother, which Inko had also said when she dropped him off here… Shoto’s brain fogged over, and the thoughts lost themselves to dreams. 

—————

“It’s not my fault.” The phrase was whispered, snapped. Shoto frowned, not wanting to open his eyes yet. A hushed argument came from the living room, just loud enough to be heard.

“Oh, and it’s mine?”

“No, I didn’t say that, Hawks—“

“And now it’s back to ‘Hawks’. What, am I not good enough any more?”

“I’m addressing you as Hawks because that’s who I’m talking to.” The voices were no longer hushed, more at a normal speaking level now. Aizawa sounded upset. “You’re acting! Even now, you. Are. Acting. You do this all the time, and I wish you wouldn’t.”

“Ha!” A breath. “Oh, that’s rich. If you want so badly for me to act how you want me to, then you’re no better than they are.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. Clearly, you’re completely fine and don’t need me or anyone else, despite the fact that I am trying to help you.”

“Wha…I don’t need help! Izuku does! They have him, and I need to get him back!”

“We! And you both need help. But I can’t do anything if you don’t let me, and we can’t do anything until we know where he is. Do you really not have any contacts inside the Commission?”

“No, and even if I did, what makes you think they’d answer my calls?”

“Because you were their toy. They molded you into what they wanted, and if they thought you were coming back—“

“No!” Keigo’s breath came in gasps. “No. I’m not—I can’t even pretend that, because if I do, it will happen!”

It was quiet a moment, just a rustle of cloth.

“There’s more to this, isn’t there?” Aizawa asked. “You would do anything for that kid, but you’re drawing a line.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry that I’m scared of the people that bought and trained me!” Keigo’s heaving breaths all but rang through the apartment. “And I’m sorry if that makes me selfish and horrible because I’m more scared than I care about Izuku, but I can’t help it.”

The winged hero’s voice broke on the last phrase, followed by a stifled sob.

“Okay.” Aizawa’s voice softened. “It’s okay. We’ll figure something else out.”

“I-I’m sorry. I want him back. I do. I really don’t want him to be in their claws.”

“Neither do I. It just…might take longer to get to him.”

“I…”

Shoto still wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, but if they needed a contact inside the Commission…well, he might just have an in. Also, his sinuses were killing him again. The cold medicine must have worn off. He groaned out of bed, tapped his phone to see that it was four in the morning, and padded to his pseudo-family members.

“If you need someone in the Commission, I might know someone,” Shoto said, sounding almost as miserable as he felt. “Can I have some more medicine?”

Chapter Text

Shouta was not sure this was a good idea. Endeavor sat casually on the side of a conference table, with Shoto (with a pocket full of tissues and a red nose) and Shouta across from him. The man had been pretty quiet about Shoto lately. He’d stopped blowing Shouta’s phone up a week or two ago. Furthermore, Endeavor had recently been spotted at a juvenile rehabilitation facility, which Shouta found…interesting. He couldn’t imagine they had requested him, and what little he knew about the man’s disciplinary abilities left a lot to be desired. 

Something was odd, though. Endeavor had barely greeted Shoto, and hadn’t made a single comment to him. He sat and calmly addressed any comment made toward him. It was a far cry from the hothead Shouta was familiar with. 

“I understand that you requested my time,” he addressed Shoto.

“Yes. Midoriya Izuku is missing.” The boy’s words were almost tinged with the impediment of a stuffed nose, but luckily the daytime cough medicine seemed to be doing the trick. Shoto hadn’t wanted to look weak in front of his father. “I need - or, rather, Aizawa needs - inside information on the Commission. We were hoping you might be able to provide it.”

“And why would—“ Endeavor stopped himself, seeming to check his tone. “Why wouldn’t Eraserhead ask them himself?”

“Because the Commission is the issue.” Shouta pulled out a flash drive. “This is everything we have, that Nezu could find, and it’s not a lot. I have a missing kid and no way to get to them.”

“What about Hawks?”

“He can’t do anything more than what I am doing. He’s no longer a part of the Commission.”

“They do keep their secrets close.” Endeavor shook his head. “It would be better to keep Hawks as far away from them as possible. I won’t claim to know anything about him, but he used to follow me like a little lamb and I saw enough.”

Shouta raised a brow. How wonderfully caring of him. It seemed like it should be fake, like Endeavor was trying to play some sort of angle. As suspect as his entire demeanor was, it was somehow true, though. Shouta would keep an eye on it all.

“So, why is my…why is Shoto involved?”

“Midoriya’s my friend. And if you’ll help them find him, in return…” Shoto took a breath. They hadn’t talked about anything in return, and Shouta’s eyes widened in horror at the next words. “I’ll come back home.”

“What?” Shouta bit out. His mind reeled. Endeavor took the thumb drive.

“I’ll see what I can find.” He turned as he left the room. “No return necessary.”

Shouta exchanged a shocked, disbelieving look with Shoto. Had that just…happened? Actually happened? Or maybe they’d gotten in a crash on the way here and were in comas and experiencing shared dreams. Anything would be more likely than this. Shoto let out what sounded like a series of coughs, but then his voice made an appearance. He was laughing. A laugh huffed out of Shouta’s mouth and he joined his student in hysterics. Unfortunately, Shoto’s laughter did eventually devolve into a coughing fit. Shouta shook his head, still unable to wipe the smile from his face.

“Let’s get you some water, kid.”

“Gatorade?” Shoto wheezed between coughs.

“Sure.”

The receptionist stopped them at the front desk on the way out. 

“Excuse me, Eraserhead?”

“What?” That might have been too harsh. The receptionist took it without batting an eye. 

“I was told to let you know that Todoroki Shoto and any of his friends are allowed to use the private gym and medical facilities whenever they need, and to give you this.” She handed over an envelope.

“That’s…oddly generous.” 

Shoto narrowed his eyes beside him.

“Yes, well. He’s been…different lately. I can’t say I’m upset about it. He’s been working to improve his attitude and practices. He even went to a juvenile detention center the other day, so that he could learn from the staff there.” 

Huh. Shouta thanked her, then steered Shoto to the medical facilities.

“What are you doing? I don’t want to take anything he’s giving.”

“And I don’t usually let kids take the easy way out when it comes to their health. Too much dependence on this kind of thing can make kids think they’re more invincible than they really are. I don’t think you fall into that category, so if they can clear your cold up we should let them. Besides, it’s free.”

“Fine,” Shoto sighed, but Shouta was pretty sure it was only because the last dose of cold medicine should be wearing off about now.

There was one particular doctor on staff that had been designated for Shoto and his friends, Dr. Yasue. The man was short, jovial, and so friendly that Shouta wondered how he ended up working for Endeavor. He would have been more at home in a pediatrics facility. His Quirk let him adjust peoples’ bodies on a cellular level, and right now he was working on expelling the virus.

“Oh, you know, when Endeavor of all people asked me to come here, I thought, ‘Yasue, this is the strangest job you’ll ever have. You better take it.’ So I did! I get to be in charge of you and any of your friends—“ Dr. Yasue prodded part of Shoto’s exposed chest, which glowed pink on contact. “—and in the meantime, I get to treat any maladies that the sidekicks’ children have. I will say, it does take more out of me as the years go on, but I built my Quirk the best I could, so I can still handle just about anything! In fact, I still get to work with cancer patients on Saturdays. Pretty soon, though, my son is going to be taking over for me, since he’s in his prime. Oh, and my daughter is doing wonderfully as well! She got her mother’s Quirk, Quick Stitch, and she works at a variety of emergency rooms.”

“You talk a lot,” Shoto observed, and Shouta hoped the man wouldn’t take it personally. He’d noticed the boy wasn’t always great with social niceties. 

“Ah, yes. That I do. Let me know if it bothers you, but I find that it takes a lot of the awkwardness away from these situations. Besides, I enjoy talking, it keeps my brain sharp!” Dr. Yasue patted Shoto on the shoulder. “All right. A few more hours of sniffling, and it should clear up by sometime tonight. Your body just needs to expel everything and voila! No more virus. Now for you, young man!”

It took Shouta a moment to figure out the doctor was talking about him.

“I’m good.”

“Nonsense! You’re his teacher, correct? Which means you’ve been in contact with a lot of sick kids. May as well get checked over, since it’s free for you and all.”

Dr. Yasue was not only convincing, but insistent. Shouta somehow ended up getting a full physical while Shoto stayed in the waiting room. When he was finished and finally booted out, he had to stare at a wall because he wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened. His eyes felt great, though.

“Did you get a lollipop?” Shoto asked around the one in his mouth. Shouta held it up in answer. Shoto nodded. “They’re good. I got strawberry.”

“Raspberry.” As they left, Shouta handed it to the boy. “Let me know which one’s better so I know for next time.”

“Okay.”

Chapter Text

Midoriya Inko was possibly the best thing to ever happen to the League of Villains. Maybe even to Dabi himself. He couldn’t help but silently thank the woman for her donations of children’s toys and books. Eri’s little face lit up the first time he pulled out a book. Now, she could even read along with some of the words. The kid had a sharp mind. That was good. He couldn’t give matches to someone stupid. It was one thing to cause chaos and destruction on purpose, and an entirely different thing to do it on accident.

“The d-og r-a-n h-hah me?”

“That O says ‘oh’ and the E doesn’t say anything.”

“Huh-Ho-me. How come it’s like that?”

“I dunno. I don’t remember.”

“You don’t remember lotsa things Bi-Bi.”

Dabi fought not to sigh about that stupid nickname. He would never tell the girl to her face, but he kind of hated it. It wasn’t even a shorter version of his name, it was the same number of syllables! Oh, well. He’d put up with it. For now.

Today was a chair day, so they finished their book and someone came to get Eri. Dabi stayed where he was. He had fallen into a sort of routine. Mornings spent with Eri, sometimes part of an afternoon. On chair days, he stayed until she came back, oftentimes until later in the afternoon. Eri would come back, looking like an empty shell, and feed her dinner - usually by spoon feeding her - then held her until she fell asleep. Then, he would wipe down the room with disinfecting wipes, which had the added benefit of satisfying Overhaul enough that he wouldn’t destroy Eri’s things. After that, it was to the League for whatever they needed, and back to Eri at some point in the middle of the night.

After Eri came back and he got her tucked into bed, Dabi let Kurogiri know he was ready to be picked up. The familiar pool of mist swallowed him whole, and deposited him at a dinner table. He eyed it warily, wondering where it had come from. The tables had been pushed back, and the couch was nearly touching the TV. In the middle of it all was Midoriya Inko, in her disarming sweater and half bun, looking for all the world like a mother calling her kids to eat.

“Oh, Dabi! How lovely to see you. I’m so glad you made it in time for dinner!”

“Okay…” Honestly, this scene was straight out of a horror movie. Everyone else had a seat at the table, although only Twice looked completely comfortable. Toga fingered a butter knife. Spinner seemed as creeped out as Dabi was. Even Kurogiri had a spot.

“Ah, what a nice family dinner!” Inko squealed, and…was that a smile on Shigaraki’s face? Nervous, but…yeah, it was. 

TV static burst through the air, and the boss man’s voice started to say something, but Inko just muted it. Apparently boss man could remotely control it though, because it came back.

“Mrs. Midoriya, I would appreciate you not doing that,” he said, a deadly tone lancing his words. Inko was not affected.

“It is dinner time, and there’s no TV during dinner, unless it’s movie night. And it’s not movie night,” she said, yanking the plug out. “There. Now we can eat in peace.”

Even Twice was uncomfortable now, but no one said anything.

“So, how were everyone’s days?”

They all stuttered or stumbled through an explanation. Thankfully, Inko’s interest in her son seemed to save them all from more small talk.

“Anyone have anything?”

“I do, Mama Midoriya!” Toga crowed. She had taken to calling Inko ‘Mama Midoriya’, and honestly it was an accurate nickname. “I snuck into their headquarters today!”

“Toga!” Inko gasped. “What if they had found you?”

“Oh, they would have, except Jin distracted everyone at the entrance. Don’t worry, though! His main body stayed away.”

“Oh, good. Well, what information did you find?”

It wasn’t much. Just a prefecture and a training program with a code name that made Inko’s face pale. For her sake, Dabi hoped it wasn’t whatever she thought it was.

Chapter Text

If Endeavor continued to deliver like this, Keigo might decide to like him again. He had sent Shoto and Aizawa back with an unlimited credit card (which Keigo didn’t really need, but maybe Shoto could use it for some fun or something). And he seemed to be giving Shoto distance at the same time. Then, to top it all off, the cherry on top, the…whatever other metaphor meant ‘the best’, the day had started off with Aizawa, Nezu, and Keigo getting an email with several leads. Information about Izuku (or, better yet, the boy himself) could be at any one of these locations. They decided to go with the ones that seemed most familiar to Keigo. Most of them were clandestine, and he hadn’t actually seen the outside of any of them, but some had descriptions or pictures of the innards. Even if they had to check them one by one, they would find him. 

The issue would be getting him out. Technically, nothing Keigo and the teachers were doing was legal. The Commission had filed Izuku’s disappearance as some bullcrap that was a worse excuse than the one Aizawa had told the students. So, technically Izuku wasn’t missing, and, technically, no one should be investigating. Physically, they could maybe grab him and run, but then they’d have to stay on the run, and who knew what kind of state Izuku would be in. 

As the days wore on, Keigo and Aizawa covertly checked as many places as they could. About a week after the end of the semester, Inko texted them.

Inko

He’s in Aichi.

I have an in if you can figure out the specifics.

That was the best news Keigo had ever heard.  There were only three locations on Endeavor’s list that fit that criteria. 

“Anyone home?” Mic kicked off his shoes, Shoto close behind him.

“Here.” Keigo waved from the kitchen. “Where’s Eraser?”

“He said he’s getting ready for the training camp,” Shoto said as he took a seat at the counter. “We leave tomorrow.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Keigo focused himself on the batter for his fried chicken. He didn’t particularly appreciate that Aizawa was still going when Izuku was still missing. “You looking forward to it?”

Shoto shrugged. 

“Not really. I don’t think I’ll be able to enjoy anything until I know Izuku is safe.”

“Me neither,” Keigo sighed. His batter did not seem to be working out very well. Too clumpy.

“Hey, that looks pretty good,” said Mic. “Do you mind if I…?”

“Go ahead. I don’t think you can make it worse.”

“Well, don’t expect too much.”

—————

An exhausted shiver ran down Izuku’s back. Nonaka lectured him, but he really couldn’t focus right now. All that ran through his mind was ‘Just one more day. I just have to make it one. more. day.’

Chapter Text

The sun beat down on the students while Shouta watched from the shade of the trees. Shoto was keeping his temperature regulated while making the barrel of water change quickly and drastically. Iida had a growing pile of engines next to him, and Bakugo had growing explosions on the hill. Hopefully the boy had utilized the gun range ear plugs he had been given. Ururaka had only thrown up twice from motion sickness, which was better than the four times yesterday. Shouta actually felt a little bad about her situation. But she couldn’t get better without practice, and, unfortunately, practice entailed spinning end over end, over and over and over. Shouta idly wondered if he could get some astronautic training equipment for her.

Shouta had managed to weasel Shinso into the training camp in Izuku’s place. The purple-haired boy was doing very well with his capture scarf. Clearly, he had been practicing as much as humanly possible. He’d make a great hero someday.

“All right! Hit the showers!” Tiger called. “You especially, sweaty!”

“What did you just say?!” Bakugo yelled, although Shouta wasn’t sure if that was due to the earplugs or his personality. Probably the latter. Bakugo stomped over to Shouta’s tree.

“Can I help you with something?”

“Yeah,” Bakugo snapped. “Why’re you here?”

“Because I’m in charge of twenty delinquents.”

“You know what I mean!” The boy took a deep breath, and Shouta had to commend the effort to stay calm. “I know Izuku’s missing. Todoroki didn’t say anything, but he’s not exactly hard to read.”

Shoto was typically very hard to read, actually, but Bakugo was surprisingly good at doing it.

“I want to know why you’re here and not out looking for him. He’s…he’s my friend, and I know you care about him, too, so why aren’t you doing anything?”