Work Text:
Midoriya Izuku smiled. His butsudan–the family altar–stood pacifically next to a small keyboard and a bookcase. A photo of his mother, newly placed, grinned at him. He set a small plate of katsudon down in front of her. “I’ll miss you, mama.”
Inko’s photo sat next to All Might’s–slightly older, but still new in its pain. In the corner, the Iron Deku suit–that’s what Kacchan and the media had started calling it–sat brightly polished. Izuku could see his own reflection in it. Meditatively, he nursed his own plate of katsudon. “Not as good as you would make it, Mom,” he said with a trembling voice. “How do you like the new apartment? Sorry you weren’t ever able to visit–that wheelchair and these stairs. I hope you like the grave I picked out.” He passed a hand across his forehead. “I need to call the funeral home. Too bad you can’t set it up yourself, huh?” Izuku laughed creakily.
Tears welled up but there was a knock at the door. “Come in,” yelled Izuku, wiping his face with his sleeve. No matter who it was, if they had this address they were safe.
The door opened, and there was a quick sound of shuffling out of street shoes and into house slippers. A small army–Kacchan, Kirishima, Ochako, Iida, Shoto–shambled into the living room. As the others bowed and then found spots on the sofa, bean bag, the chairs, Kacchan cleared his throat and proffered an aluminum covered casserole dish.
“I–we just heard about Auntie Inko. Thought we’d bring you–why is Shigaraki on your butsudon?”
Izuku hurriedly grabbed the casserole. “Uh, yeah. So, I’ve got All Might right there–”
“Awh, he’s right next to your mom!” Ochako smiled beatifically. “That’s so sweet.”
Beet red, Izuku continued. “And I just thought I’d put all of the One For All holders up. Shigaraki was the last one, and I’ve always felt responsible for him. I’m pretty sure that, wherever they are, Spinner and Compress have him on theirs too. Just want to make sure that he gets a better rebirth than he got last time.”
His bright red eyes filling with tears, Kirishima rushed over and embraced him, nearly knocking the casserole to the ground. “That’s so manly, dude! I wish I could be more like you.”
Shoto raised his hand, then awkwardly spoke. “When is your mother’s service?”
Before Izuku could answer, Iida chopped his hand. “Todoroki-kun! Midoriya-kun is in mourning! This is fresh pain, do not press the wound yet.” Iida paused. “We would like to come though.”
“Hold on,” said Kacchan. “I swear that I haven’t seen Shiggy on there before. When did you put that up?”
“When I got the butsudan. Remember, I swear I showed you when we set up All Might’s shrine–”
Kacchan scoffed. “Dude, the amount of sake we had that night, I’m surprised you remember. It can’t have been there that long though. I’m here all the time and I swear I never saw it.”
Shoto raised his hand again. “It’s been there. I just didn’t want to say anything.”
“Hah?!” Kacchan narrowed his eyes at Izuku accusingly. “I’m here practically every day–”
“Kacchan, I think the last time you looked at my butsudan was the wake for All Might. Remember, sake”
“You… you might be right.”
Ochako leaped up and squeezed her way between Kirishima and Izuku. “Enough about all that. You’re my hero Izuku. You care so so much. Do you need anything?”
Carefully, Izuku extricated himself from the hug pile. “I’m… I’m okay. I’ll call you if I need anything. This time.” Transparently trying to change the subject, he peered under the aluminum foil. “What is this? Are those chips?”
“Funeral potatoes,” said Kacchan. “Picked up the recipe during a stint I did in Salt Lake City. Thought I’d experiment a bit. You’ve always liked comfort food.”
“Bakugo, are you Mormon?” Shoto tilted his head. “Is that why you don’t go out drinking anymore?”
“I don’t drink because the last time I had a bender was when All Might died. Anyway, Izuku–if you don’t tell us the moment you need or want something, I will kill you.”
“Thanks Kacchan,” Izuku smiled and set the dish down. “I’m on bereavement leave. How are the rest of you here?”
“Strategic shift swapping,” Ochako said with a mischievous grin. “We won the chance to visit you first. Also, Deku, you still haven’t answered Tenya or Shoto. What time and day is the funeral?”
Izuku rubbed the back of his neck. “I haven’t set it up yet. Things have been happening so fast and I just got home an hour ago.”
Iida rocketed to his feet. “I will set it up for you! Inko is dear to all of us, and it is only right that we help with your burdens as your closest friends. Todoroki-kun, keep an eye on the others. Make sure that they don’t disturb Izuku here.” He exited to the entryway. A beat passed. Iida peered back around the door. “What kind of Buddhist are you? Which kind of funeral do you want? Do you have a gravesite?”
Izuku giggled a little, tears coming to his eyes. “Thank you, Iida. I’ll text you the info. Let’s just try these–mourning potatoes?”
“Funeral potatoes,” said Kirishima from the ground. “Bakubro’s made me taste test them like fifty times since he learned the recipe.”
The group laughed as Iida rejoined them. Quietly, all of them bowed to the butsudan.
“I love you mom. Thanks for teaching me how to make friends.”