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Chapter Text

Izuku wasn't sure what was going on.

He didn't remember a lot of things, but at the same time he remembered a lot.

He remembered his first name, but not his last name. 

He remembered that his eyes and hair were green, but he didn't know why they were green.

He remembered that he was dead...

But...

He didn't know how.

—

Because he remembered things about him, but he forgot things about who he really was, where he came from, how he lived, why and with whom he lived. It was as if he had left everything that bound him behind.

He knew he was 12 years old, was he? did he? he knew that he worshipped heroes and that he wanted to save people?

Because he wanted to save them, they deserved to be, they deserve what they lived, what they will live. Why wasn't he being saved?

It's different to save someone who expects it than someone who doesn't, it was so hard to hold out hope, he didn't want it to be, it should be easy, something natural, something everyone should be able to have, did he even have that hope himself?

But he didn't understand how he got to this point, because he was standing in the middle of a forest, with only his now non-physical body.

Something happened to him, something had to have happened, it couldn't just happen out of nowhere, someone had to do it, he didn't think he was capable of doing that himself, did he?

H-he, he couldn't have done it to himself, could he?

Because no one answers, because no one has found him, what should he do, should he stay or should he go, someone look for him, someone care, did he even have someone.

Izuku had to choose, stay and wait, wait for someone to come, or go explore, look for something, something he doesn't even understand himself.

He chose to walk, after all maybe he could meet someone coming to look for him halfway, it's the best thing to do, so the person he was looking for wouldn't get tired and they could go back faster since they would be closer.

During the self-imposed walk, Izuku realised a few things, first he seemed to remember things about himself, true, but he couldn't remember people or places he had any relation to. It had something to do with the fact that he himself was transparent, it was strange, but also probably one of the least strange things about everything that was happening to him. 

He didn't know if he should be tired, the sky that was once a sweet, bright blue was darkening as much as the uniform of that place he hated so much.

What place did he hate? 

Well...

Maybe it wasn't important.

He wondered if there were more people like him, if anyone would know what happened. Any explanation was fine, even if it was just an idea or a hypothesis. 

—

Ohh...

Looks like I've come to a place,’ Izuku said aloud as he looked around, he came to a park which didn't seem to be much of a park, the playground equipment was a bit worn and faded, the grass wasn't exactly tall but it was obvious that the place was neglected. For his good or bad luck, this was perfect, it seemed he could stay as long as he needed and no one would look at him funny or scold him for being in that place.

—

Izuku had been here for a week, and he only had 2 types of visitors to the park, the first were animals, cats and birds, both of which were able to see him and apparently were interested in his existence, as both would let themselves be petted, in case they were more shy they would come closer and watch him for a while, when they seemed to have satisfied their interest they would squeak or meow and leave, as if they were saying goodbye.

The second type, was/is, a bit rarer. It is a man who appears during the night, as far as he could tell, just to feed the cats. At first he thought the man was lost, but he had actually been following the cats.

Izuku didn't consider it dangerous considering that most of the cats weren't even watching him, as if they already knew him. He thinks that if the cats trust the unknown man, he could trust the cats.

—

5 days earlier

—

Aizawa was confused as to why from one day to the next the alley where stray cats gather to wait for food or rest was empty. This he would have let it pass if it wasn't the second night it happened, it couldn't be a coincidence. 

Just as he was about to continue his patrol, a cat passed between his legs, as he was about to bend down to pet it, recognising the cat as one of those who usually eat in large quantities and demand if possible the same amount of petting.

The cat went on its way, continuing along the pavement as if he had been just a little unexpected.

He obviously decided to follow the cat, he didn't think it was some kind of trap and it was the first cat he had seen in 2 days, if he didn't find a reason for the lack of stray cats he was going to annoy Naomasa and Sansa, at least one of them supports his concern for the cats, and if not, he could get rid of the station's stock of coffee. 

After all, feeding stray cats was already part of his routine, and if that went bad, he'd make it a problem for everyone he could, it wasn't as if Hizashi and Kayama had managed to escape his complaints, that the rest of the teachers at UA knew about it was a minor point, though 13 seemed to take an interest in the subject.

Wow...

They were in an abandoned park, he could see even from the entrance how neglected it was, nothing too serious, but it couldn't hurt a little care.

But this place seemed to be the answer to his worries, everywhere he turned he could see at least 3 cats, that was a lot more cats than there usually are in the alley.

If he counted all the cats they were probably a bigger group than all the first years of the AU, he wondered what the reason for them gathering in this place would be.

Well...

It wasn't like he could convince the cats to do anything else.

—

The first time Izuku saw the man, he thought he shouldn't be in a park in the middle of the night but should be asleep, he looked like he hadn't been in years.

He was wearing all black clothes from his shirt to his boots, which looked like combat boots, a tool belt, which is what this man kept on him, a scarf that looked like bandages, and yellow glasses?

Although I could tell that the man looked tired in appearance, he did not look tired in the way he walked, moved or the gestures he made.

The man seemed surprised and happy to see the park, he was examining it in depth, Izuku noticed how he seemed delighted with the amount of cats that were in the park.

-

Aizawa thought he was sure he had found the closest thing to paradise, his reasons were very logical:

1. There were lots and lots of cats.

2. There were no people around.

Those two points were all that mattered to him at this time and place, as he finished his patrol at 3 am. He was more than willing to stay in that place.

-

He was surprised when the man started walking towards the small rest area in the park, and seemed to be content with what he saw as out of nowhere he began to arrange, a sleeping bag...bright yellow in colour.

He was intrigued as to where the sleeping bag came from, as well as where and how he got one of such a colour, perhaps they had a green one?

To match it.

No...

Maybe green was too obvious, maybe a purple, or light blue or red.

Wait.

It's not like he needed it, he couldn't even wear it, it would be a waste.

When Izuku looked back at the man.

Ohh...

He had fallen asleep...

Izuku approached intrigued by the man, when he's practically to the side of him, he crouched down, and instead of being able to examine the man, the cats stood around him, as if they knew something else had caught his attention and they were no longer his main interest.

Well.

It's not like he could deny these cute cats petting, maybe he could examine the man more later, it wasn't like any of them seemed to be in a hurry.

Izuku chose to sit next to the man, after all he was the first person he had seen in so long.

He wondered if he might see him, if he would be visiting often, he hoped he would, it wasn't that he was angry or upset with the cats, it was just that, well, he's the first person he's met.

He hoped it would go well.

-

The phone started ringing.

Aizawa woke up startled, he immediately picked up the phone only to notice that it was his alarm to go to the AU.

After turning off the alarm, he looked for a full minute at the time on his phone, 7:20.

He looked around, noting that he was in the park from last night and was surrounded by cats. He remembered taking out his sleeping bag, to take a break after his patrol, but he didn't think he would fall asleep in a playground.

He felt completely rested, as if he had slept for days and not just a few hours, because he felt he had slept better in the middle of a playground than in his overpriced bed.

Well, it wasn't as if he could know the real reason, maybe just being completely exhausted helped him rest better.

Well he wasn't going to delve into it, he started to stretch out and pick up his sleeping bag.

-

Oh, looks like the man has to go now, damn, it was good while it lasted. It would be back to just the cats, birds and him.

Maybe the raccoon would go around again. That would be great.

-I'll be going now, I'll be sure to visit them when I can,- said the man as he petted some of the cats, - I promise I'll bring them some food next time.-

Waaa

He just made a promise to visit them again, well, he made it to the cats, but at this point he'll take what he can get, at least he'll have a visitor.

This was the best thing that had happened to him since he found the cats and the raccoon.

Chapter Text

—--------------------------

Izuku was happy, the man visited the park at least twice a week, it was unbelievable.

This was unbelievable, when the man fell asleep, Izuku tried to move his hair, even managing to lift it a little at times, he found that the man's hair was extremely soft, although he was barely able to lift one of the strands.

Izuku knew what he had to do.

He had to go out and practice using his quirk, cats and birds could know where he was and sometimes touch him without him needing to put effort into it, games like the swings were not entirely reliable considering that at least 2 of the 3 swings were broken, and the other one moved easily through the air.

The slide and handrails were not useful for him to find out if he could feel things or not, this because for him the world had no real gravity, it was more like swimming, another thing is that he himself found it necessary to stay close to the ground and walk. He could basically choose whether he wanted an object to be solid or not.

Which was great.

His peculiarity was better than simple wings...

Wait.

Who had wings?

...

Probably no one important.

-

Everyone was surprised, Aizawa had reduced not only his coffee consumption, but even the time he was doing homework was faster and he was taking fewer naps.

Nemuri was determined to get to the bottom of this, she had already asked all the teachers if they knew anything from MI to Vlad, hell, she even approached the students to see if they knew anything, and something was going on only no one knew what it was, so giving a last prayer to god and another to Nedzu, she approached Shota's desk.

-Uh, hey Shota, are you okay?

-Yeah, why the question?

-A friend can't be interested in her friend's life just because," said Nemuri with a small smile on her face.

-Not when you are the friend, you don't remember the last time you were interested," Shota answered without even looking up from the papers.

-I don't know what you mean, I always do it with the best of intentions.

-Your best intentions was to send Hisazhi and I, on a weird blind date attempt, where the choices were a crazy widow, a desperate single mother and Joke, where if I remember correctly we had to pay the whole bill thinking it would be the end only for all three of them to harass the three of us for a month.

Well, shit, I forget how cutting Shota was when they were in school.

-Well that's aside it was an isolated situation, I was just asking because you've been in a good mood lately, and I rarely find you at your flat, I thought something might have happened, these last two or three weeks-

-Nothing important has happened in the last few weeks, I don't know where you get that idea from.

-If you're sure, anything, I'm just a phone call away.

Realising that Shota wasn't going to continue the conversation and that he wouldn't give him any refills, she blew a kiss towards him, then headed to the sofa in the teacher's lounge where Snipe and Present Mic were sitting.

She sat on the arm of the couch next to Mic, who immediately passed her a blackberry smoothie. By the time he was halfway through his smoothie, Shota was standing up and picking up papers, he picked up his coffee cup and left the teacher's lounge.

-God he didn't really tell me anything, I thought he would at least say where he went or if he had changed anything in his routine.

-I told you you wouldn't get anything, I already asked him," Mic replied, as he sipped his coffee.

-Ugh, I thought he would say something, it's been almost three weeks since he started his weird behaviour and change of appearance," he said waving his hands as if it was the most obvious thing in the situation.

-Wow, I thought it had only been a week or two, but you say three, didn't you say it was weird about a month ago, Mic?

-What are you talking about, he's only been acting like this for two or three weeks." She would have noticed if it had been a month, right?

- He's been acting like this for a month or more, because he started behaving like this in July, although I don't remember the exact date," answered Mic as he looked towards the coffee pot, which was already empty.

—

Izuku had left the park, and that was fine, it was still sunny outside, the streets were well lit and there were still people walking the streets.

He wouldn't have to worry about anyone trying to stop him or anyone trying to take things from him....

Wait...

He was a ghost.

No one could hurt him now, not like before...

Before?

-Meow - Oh right, Madam Fluffy was accompanying him on his adventure.

He remembered how he had said out loud to the cats that he would try to use his quirk outside the park and that he would try to get back before the moon was over the park, he was surprised when all the cats stood in 6 rows of 15 cats and started meowing.

Only for them to suddenly fall silent and the smoke lady meowed, which Izuku thought was a command and stood next to her. That seemed to satisfy all the other cats who scattered back into the park.

He thought it was amusing.

Izuku wondered what he should start practicing with.

He started walking down one of the larger streets that was in sight, he noticed that the further he went the brighter and neater everything looked, just as he was about to turn around, he heard a pop, and in front of him fell, a hero... he was wearing a job with such painfully bright colours, in the shop where the smoke was coming from he could see two men standing with bags, while a third seemed to be laughing.

He was thankful that Mrs. Smoke was on top of the buildings, it was the best thing, so she wouldn't get caught up in the whole situation.

-You really think a rookie can stop us, this robbery wasn't planned overnight, and you're not going to be able to take us on by yourself!

It seemed he wasn't the only one who found their dialect a problem, as one of the men standing behind grimaced and looked disappointed at the situation, while the other simply nodded towards the first. Well at least one of them seemed to have common sense.

-I will stop you villains, it is my duty," replied the hero as he struck a pose pointing his finger in the direction of the villains.

Izuku decided to analyse each of the thieves a little, the first and most obvious was the guy in front of him who seemed to have a bull mutation, he had a strong build, the second was the admirer of the first one who was nodding as if what Mr. Muu was saying was some kind of lesson, he had a chameleon mutation, this one had a chameleon mutation, as in excitement certain parts of his body changed colour. The second this one had a chameleon mutation, as in emotion certain parts of his body changed colour, the third one was less obvious and did not have a mutation, but he was wearing gloves unlike the other two, maybe something to do with his hands or skin. That could be tricky if the third man's peculiarity was in doubt.

-Hey, kaboom, give me some more of that shit," said Mr. Muu.

Well, that solved the problem of what the quirk was but it left a new problem, how many bombs could he make, what size, did he create, transform or how did he make the bombs.

-I told you I need certain materials, and not to digest my quirk during the mission." The bomber started yelling at his partner, "I knew working with you was going to be a bitch.

-Hey, don't talk to the boss like that," commented the smaller man.

And the "villains" started to fight among themselves, Izuku was surprised that they were acting like little kids when they meet not only the public but also in the middle of a robbery that they planned, Izuku thought that they didn't really have a plan but just a place to rob and if anything a route.

Although that part might be in doubt by the fact that they couldn't even do it because one of them wanted to try using bombs in a jewellery shop, and the guy thought it was the smartest thing to throw the bomb into the window which alerted not only the people outside, but also the whole neighbourhood.

-I'll stop them," shouted the hero, throwing himself in Mr. Muu's direction.

0/10 in stealth and sneak attacks.

The villain reacted quickly and started throwing punches in the direction of the hero, which seemed to take him by surprise as he quickly stepped back as if not expecting a counter attack, stumbling slightly which allowed the other two villains to stop arguing only for the one with the mutation peculiarity to quickly head in the direction of the hero.

The hero after steadying himself again, dodging Mr. Chameleon's attempted tackle, the villainous Mr.Muu held him by the neck.

-Wow, you really stopped us, hero," said Mr. Muu as he swung the hero slightly, "I'll see to it that you don't cause us any more trouble in the future.

-Hey, I told you no killing people," Kaboom shouted at him, while picking up the bags his companions threw at him.

-Ha, and what are you going to try to stop me, we're in this together," he shouted as he turned in his direction.

-I-I don't think that hurting the hero badly would be good," said the chameleon boy.

-If you have a problem with that, stop me if you can," he said as he slammed the hero's body against the wall.

-If you kill him, more heroes and policemen will chase us, if you leave him wounded there won't be so many," commented kaboom.

Mr.Muu seemed to consider it for a second, he dropped the hero to the ground, falling on pieces of glass, the villain kicked him hard sending him crashing into the wall.

Izuku quickly ran in the direction of the hero, he knew he wasn't really tangible, there was nothing he could do to stop him.

When he stretched out one of his hands and managed to touch the hero, a shield appeared that was a mixture of gold and green. When the villain hit the shield it transformed into chains, which immediately wrapped around him, immobilising him.

-IF YOU COULD DO THAT FROM THE BEGINNING, WHY WAIT, MY GOD, YOU GOT ME A SHOCK," shouted Izuku as he turned in the direction of the hero.

-What the fuck..." the hero whispered as he looked at Mr.Muu, who seemed to think that moving like a worm would help him escape.

Well... If this quirk wasn't the hero's, maybe it was some passerby's?

Izuku looked around only to notice that the area was empty of civilians, there were a lot of police, who he assumed blocked the streets and access to the scene.

From one second to the next a bunch of vines appeared, trapping the other two villains completely, and increasing Mr. Muu's restraints.

That was a good thing.

The heroes won.

Izuku slowly withdrew his hand from where it was resting on the fallen hero, and took a couple of steps back, not noticing how the chains began to fade.

He didn't feel well, he felt dizzy, tired, maybe taking a nap would be good, no one was in danger anymore.

Meow- Izuku turned quickly in the direction of the meow noticing how Madam Fluffy was standing in front of him.

Hey, I think the walk will have to end here, I don't feel so good," he said quietly.

Madam Fluffy watched him for a few seconds before she started to walk, Izuku not knowing what else to do he started to follow her.

Chapter Text

Well Izuku was sure of one thing, yesterday sucked.

It's like the world didn't want a barely existent kid to be able to have a quiet life. 

Maybe he should have stayed in the park watching the cats argue over who got the warmest spot in the park, maybe even watched the sky until it got dark and the mystery man appeared. 

But that was out of the question, not that he didn't have a certain level of guilt about leaving the park.

He just wanted to try to touch something or someone that wasn't a cat or the mystery man that shows up in the park at 3am.

Poor Madame Fluffy didn't get to enjoy the ride because of the stupid villains, with their stupid monologues, and the dumb hero who looks like he didn't even have a course in how to catch villains. 

Madame even ended up with pits from the wall in her fur, so it took her almost two hours to get them all out of her beautiful fur. 

He was apologising the whole time although madam didn't seem to mind as she got extra petting and grooming. 

...

What happened yesterday?

How did a shield and chains appear?!

It couldn't be one of the villains' quirks, it wouldn't make sense for them to use it to restrain their ally, but it didn't seem to be the hero's either, considering its aesthetics and surprise. 

Maybe... It could have something to do with why he felt exhausted after the chains appeared... 

It was like he was starting to feel dizzy.

He still felt tired, which he thought was odd because he hadn't felt that way since the first day.

Could it be an ability he had now? Maybe related to his quirk?

He would have to try it later when he felt better.

He would rest until the man arrived, he felt like he could sleep forever!

-Good night, oh right, good evening cats wake me up when our guest arrives,’ said Izuku hurrying to lie down next to the cats.

The cats simply started to come and lay down next to him.

---

He was happy to have found that park, since he found it he has had no problem feeding the cats, as they seemed to leave the alleys where they used to rest or live, now having that little park as a cat centre.

He didn't really expect so many stray cats to be kept in one place. Now he can see that trying to bring them all to his flat might not be such a good idea, considering that there are almost 100 cats in the park. 

...

How big would a flat or house have to be to be able to contain that many cats?

Maybe you could get a place that big with all your savings?

Should you consider getting a roommate? 

Mmm-

I'll think about it later, maybe I could ask cement and No.13 what they think.

Today he should go to that park again, since he's been going there he's not only resting more and better, but even his wounds and aches and pains have reduced. Whenever he was there he woke up surrounded by cats, which was better than waking up in his messy flat.

The advantages outweighed the ‘disadvantages’.

Whereas the ‘cons’ were waking up with cat hair all over the place, and his hair untangled and in a braid halfway down, which he just put a rubber band in and went on with his life.

Pretty sure everyone at the UA and police station is completely freaked out, dubious or terrified by the fact that he's rested and sometimes combed his hair.

---

God must hate him.

He's pretty sure he hasn't made Nedzu angry so he's unashamed.

Then the being or whatever is dictating his fate must be angry with him for no reason, because there must be nothing wrong that he has done to deserve this.

Why does he always get the hard cases or the ones with idiots in them.

A rookie hero who didn't even know how to fill out the roles correctly. He couldn't even put his hero name and quirk in the right boxes, who the hell taught him to fill out those papers like that? And then for the capture of the villains he put ‘chains sent by god decided to punish the villains, who tried to kill me’. And then he left without looking back, leaving no chance to ask what the hell happened.

He just wanted to have a few words…

Maybe he could ask Aizawa for a favor to terrorize the new hero, it could be a good revenge, he could offer him some cups of coffee for before his patrols, hell if he could get that rookie to fill out his paperwork properly, he could take care of the underground hero's paperwork for a whole week. 

And then there were the three villains, that he ‘caught’ two with mutation quirks and one with a quirk that creates explosives using cheese, why cheese, what the hell?

When I interrogate the villains, I get to know a few things: 

First two of them were trying to make a criminal duo, and the other one joined on the recommendation of an informant who was paid by the first two. 

Secondly, the plan was not meant to happen at that time, but at night, but Ishikawa Taro, the man with the bull mutation, wanted to get the money quickly, according to Shimizu Kou, the one with the bomb-making quirk. 

Thirdly, they also had no idea how the chains appeared, according to Hasegawa Kotaro, the youngest of the group of villains, if those things hadn't appeared, they might have been able to escape easily.

He didn't even bother to explain that during the day, there are more heroes on patrol. 

---

Nemuri was about to get what she needed, and that was to find out what the hell Shota was doing, he had already skipped at least 3 movie sessions, 4 drinking trips, and even the small meetings before classes started.

It might be true that for the movie sessions Hizashi or she would pick him up at his flat. And for the drinking trips it was Snipe or her, or even the teachers as a group, constantly insisting that he even agree to go.

But the meetings before class, he was the one who usually came first, hell sometimes we joked that he came straight after patrols and fell asleep on the sofa in the teacher's lounge.

-Well, look who finally deigns to show up, I thought you wouldn't even show up! - she shouted from her place on the sofa - it's as if you don't even make the effort to try to get there anymore.

-I haven't missed unless I'm being held for an important investigation or trapped,’ Shota said as he walked in her direction, ’and considering I haven't been injured and Zashi hasn't kept me in my flat for "my own good", I don't know why you would consider me missing.

Shota sat on the opposite side of the couch.

Hizashi approached Shota with a cup in his hand, filled almost to the brim with coffee. 

Thank you, Zashi- Shota said as he nodded in Hizashi's direction.

-You're welcome,’ he said as he sat down next to him.

-Hey, what's been keeping you busy, hmm?’ she says as she points one of her fingers in Shota's direction.

-Nothing's been keeping me busy that I know of,’ he replied and then took a sip of coffee. -It's good coffee, Zashi,’ I murmur, leaning towards Hizashi.

-Well, something must have happened,’ I say, “but tell us, what's been keeping you so well rested,” I gasp, ’could it be that you've got yourself a partner?

-What?’ say Shota, Hizashi, Snipe and Sekijirou.

Shota shot a look of displeasure, Hizashi looked surprised and hurt, Snipe and Seikijirou looked like they were one push away from going crazy.

-I thought that was most likely,’ I said as I smiled.

-Where do you even get that idea from,’ says Shota looking at her like she's crazy, which is complete blasphemy.

-Well it's because you're not dating anyone anymore, I mean not even Hizashi,’ I said while pointing my hand in her direction, “not only are you more rested, you're never in your flat no matter what time we go, and you even arrive with your hair half combed,” I can't find any other more obvious reas--

The doorbell rang, stopping the conversation. All the teachers hurried to get up and head for their classrooms.

---

Nemuri has gone crazy how the hell does it occur to her that he even has time for a partner, he has 2 full time jobs, and a hobby to take care of, hell if he was going to get a partner it would have to be someone he already knows, and with some exceptions he is not willing to date many of them, now he had even more proof and even less doubt.

She should get herself examined, maybe she's fallen into madness, or maybe she's projecting. 

She should be more logical.

He hopes that the madness of this woman has not interested the rat. 

That the rat becomes more interested in her life and personal affairs than it already is will be the worst thing.If she provoked Nedzu to interfere in his life, he would make her life as impossible and difficult as possible. 

The last time Nedzu took an interest in the personal life of one of his teachers, it led to a divorce and the resignation of the teacher in question, who, in order to get away from the chaos, went to Chile, and the last she heard of the man, he enjoyed the parties to which the neighbours invited him.

And that he continued to attend sessions with two different therapists, as well as quitting his jobs as a hero and teacher completely.

You really don't wish Nedzu's interest on anyone. 

Looks like it was going to be a long day... 
And he's already exhausted.

---

Well, take that nap huh... was the best solution in the world, he felt full of energy he could fight anyone and probably win!

He woke up only to see that he was surrounded by at least 10 cats which were purring like engines, he chuckled at the sound, which only seemed to relax the cats more, he looked up only to see his favorite visitor arrive, which is great he would go around the man, if he didn't feel bad about having to move from where the cats were obviously surrounding him.

That didn't seem to matter to the man who walked over to where the cats were, he seemed surprised at the cats' behaviour, probably because he wasn't visible to the man, which was understandable, he wouldn't see the at least 10 cats lying down and leaving an oval in the middle as normal either.

Two of the cats stood up from where they were lying and approached the man to be petted, who immediately bent down and started stroking their heads.

Suddenly the man stopped, and reached into his pocket, pulling out a phone. Now he was interested...

He watched as the man turned the screen up and seemed to unlock the screen, whatever he saw seemed not to be to his liking, considering the man seemed offended and angry at whatever was appearing on the screen. 

Maybe he could move over and see what it said... But that would mean leaving his circle of cats... 

Chapter Text

Aizawa wasn't sure at what point he had accepted it.

Perhaps it was the third time he had woken up without the bruise mark of intense training. Or when, in the middle of patrol, he felt less tired than he should after days of accumulated work. Perhaps it was when he began to notice that his hair, despite its tendency to be a mess, was no longer so tangled in the mornings.

He didn't bother too much to find out the source.

Although he was absolutely sure it was due to something in the park, it was the one constant among all the change-related things.

He was also sure that whatever was following him and guarding him was not a threat.

And, honestly, he didn't have the energy to put effort into something that, so far, was only bringing him benefits.

He felt a little calmer and happier to have that something watching over him.

What he did notice was that Hizashi was too attentive to his routine lately.

Living together had been a logical decision: they both had unpredictable schedules, they knew each other's quirks well, and in case of an emergency, it was easier to coordinate. Although they were technically two flats joined together, the layout allowed them a certain amount of privacy.

But lately, Hizashi seemed to be monitoring their movements with more curiosity than usual. It wasn't the first time he'd asked her questions like:

-Where did you spend the night? You didn't arrive after your patrol?

To which Aizawa would reply with a shrug and a simple shrug:

-I fell asleep outside.

The reality was that he had no concrete explanation. The only sure thing was that, at some point after finishing a patrol, he usually ended up in that park. And he slept better there, surrounded by cats, than he did in his own flat.

I didn't know how to explain it without sounding like a lunatic. I wasn't even sure if I should.

-Well, that's not normal," Hizashi said one night, folding his arms, staring at him. Not that I care if you have any... I don't know, nocturnal encounters with anyone, but at least tell me if it's safe.
Aizawa gave him a flat look.

-It's nothing remotely like that.

-Then explain yourself.

-I don't want to.

Hizashi let out a long sigh and ran his hand through his hair.

-At least tell me if it's dangerous. I want to know you're safe.

Aizawa thought about it for a moment. Something, someone, was watching over him. Not with an obvious presence, but with small, almost imperceptible details. Like a bruise that disappeared from one day to the next. Or an ache that simply faded away.

So he shook his head.

-No.

-No what?

-It's not dangerous.

Hizashi looked at him, as if trying to find some lie in his answer, but in the end he just dropped his shoulders and nodded.

-Fine. But if at some point it is, tell me.

Aizawa only grunted in response and turned his attention back to the papers in front of him. But he knew Hizashi wouldn't let it go so easily.

Not quite. At least he hoped they would lessen his worries, a too worried Hizashi ended up being too overprotective.

---

Izuku smiled when he saw one of the cats jump over one of the small shields he had created. It was an improvement. Before, his shields had barely lasted a few seconds, and now they seemed stable enough for the cats to use as temporary platforms.

He gently touched the back of one of the older cats, noticing a small scratch on its paw. He sighed and carefully ran his hand over it. A small sheen appeared and, after a few seconds, the wound was gone.

He couldn't work miracles yet, but if he could heal small wounds, maybe he could do the same for bruises and bumps.

And he already had someone in mind to try it out.

Aizawa always came with some sign of his patrols, even if he didn't seem to care. But Izuku could tell the difference. Every time he spent time in the park, he seemed less exhausted. More rested. Not completely, but enough that the change was evident.

Izuku didn't have much reason to do this.

But maybe... maybe taking care of someone who never let himself be taken care of was reason enough.

And so, every night that Aizawa stayed in the park, Izuku made sure he woke up feeling a little better than he had come in.

—

Nedzu is someone who observed and analysed.

That was what he did best, after all.

From his office in the A.U., with a perfectly brewed cup of tea and several screens showing different angles of the corridors, halls and outdoors, the director calmly analysed.

Shota Aizawa was a creature of habit. A man predictable in his unpredictability. Nedzu had mapped out his routine with ease, knowing exactly when the hero took his patrols, when he went home, and even how exhausted he arrived at school each morning.

But something had changed.

Aizawa was no longer so exhausted.

The minor injuries, the bruises he normally accumulated after each patrol or training session with his students, disappeared faster than logic dictated. His hair, though still messy, bore traces of having been tidied. His mood, though still dry as the desert, was not as razor-edged as when fatigue consumed him.

Something was watching over Aizawa.

And he wanted to know what.

They weren't students. They weren't his colleagues. Hizashi didn't seem to be aware either.

That made it more interesting.

Nedzu moved a shogi piece on his personal board and let out a chuckle.

-Oh, this is going to be fun.

Aizawa could continue to ignore it, could accept that presence without investigating it too much... but Nedzu was not one to leave a mystery unsolved.

Not when the most unpredictable piece on the board was being protected in the shadows.

—

Izuku was excited as soon as he saw him.

Aizawa had arrived at the park.

He was moving as calmly as ever, with that tired expression and typical relaxed gait, but Izuku knew him well enough by now to notice the difference. Aizawa was more awake, more focused. It wasn't the same extreme fatigue he used to see him carrying around.

Izuku smiled and got up carefully, avoiding disturbing the cats sleeping around him.

Today was the perfect night to go on his first patrol.

Following him at first with light steps, Izuku managed to float just inches off the ground, his quirk becoming more and more stable. He noticed how Aizawa advanced with an amazing naturalness, climbing buildings, jumping between structures with movements Izuku had only seen in action heroes.

And he was trying to keep up.

He did it clumsily at first, almost falling a couple of times, but with every jump, every climb, every move, he became more agile. Floating helped him steady himself, and his little shields served as makeshift platforms when he needed extra momentum.

He was having fun.

For the first time in a long time, he felt free.

The three hours flew by.

Just as they were about to finish their patrol, a group of three villains appeared. Izuku stood by and watched as Aizawa engaged them in his trademark style: fast, precise and merciless. His capture weapon caught the three before they could react.

-Tch.

Aizawa pulled out his phone and called Naomasa. Minutes later, the patrol car arrived with Sansa at the wheel.

Izuku watched them as they were loaded into the vehicle. No one noticed he was there.

At the police station, he sat on a corner of the roof, listening.

Chapter Text

He decided to go into the police station, through the glass door, the place seemed a mixture of quiet and somewhat disorganised, smelling of coffee, ink and sheets of paper. It seemed that everyone was a bit tense but calm.

He floated around the entrance of the police station, when he saw where Aizawa was he immediately headed in his direction, slipping between the desks and people. 
No one looked at him. No one noticed him.

It's the usual, bu...

-Hmm... -The cop named... Sansa? turned his head sharply, his whiskers twitching as if he caught a sudden vibration.

Izuku stopped, already at Aizawa's side, so he hid slightly behind him, who continued to review and fill out the documents, his gaze fixed on the photos and documents. 

Sansa's eyes did not seem to see him but were looking only in his direction.

But he was... looking in front of him? he seemed to know something was there, though he seemed to be missing it by a few feet.

-Shouta...? - Sansa murmured, without turning to look directly at him, ‘Have you had any new enemies? Have you seen anyone die, or did anyone close to you die?

Izuku continued to stare at him, surprised by the questions, why would he ask something like that?

-No. No new enemies. No one has died so much on my patrols or in my close circle.

Sansa nodded, but seemed unconvinced.

Tsukauchi seemed surprised by the conversation, but said no one. 

He watched as they continued to fill out the paperwork, apparently the guys were trying to pull off a robbery, they were planning how they were going to do it, when another guy came into the alley, they argued and a fight broke out, which is silly of them since apparently the fight was over who got the alley, as if there weren't plenty of them that are better.  Izuku would recommend the one halfway between the candy store and the supermarket, scary, with cats and boxes, as well as slightly spooky.

-Hey Aizawa, if you see the new hero of the area, you could give him a scare,’ said Tsukauchi as he picked up the papers and put them in a folder.

-Count on it,’ replied Aizawa as he handed him the last papers, ’I'm going now, see you tomorrow.

And that really got him excited, when Aizawa said goodbye to the policemen at the police station, he quickly flew out of the doors of the police station, as he could finally stop feeling watched.

---------------------

The walk back to the flat was quiet, it was already 3 in the morning, so he would have a maximum of 3 hours of sleep before he had to wake up to go to the AU, it's sad that he didn't have the chance to visit the small park, well he'll probably go tomorrow if another arrest doesn't happen right at the end of his shift.

When he arrived at the apartment building, he went up to the third floor, he was surprised he didn't need his key to open the flat, he quickly entered his flat, checked that everything was locked and that there was no problem, he approached the room on the right and observed through the half closed door Hizashi asleep, with his room light on, his hairstyle half undone and wrapped in at least two blankets, with one leg hanging off the bed, he laughed lightly.

Obviously Hizashi came back from the radio station and went straight home to sleep, at least this time he didn't forget to lock the door, he just forgot to lock it....

He turned off the light and closed the door, quickly went to the bathroom to take a quick shower, when he finished he went to his room and flopped down on the bed.

He looked around his room without focusing on anything in particular.

His room was a little chaotic but also well divided.

His corner where he had a desk and bookshelf, which were full of books and sheets, his medical kit in sight and within quick reach, his hero suit and his spare suit, his drawers and wardrobe where he kept his blankets and clothes, his chair that had a pile of revised papers he had to take to the AU tomorrow.

Suddenly a wave of calm and sleepiness came over him, closing his eyes, he fell asleep.

---------------------

 
Izuku followed Aizawa, he thought they would continue with the patrol, but apparently the patrol was already over, which sadly the only interesting thing was the end of the patrol.

Before he knew it, they had arrived at Aizawa's flat, he was surprised to see him rush inside.

When he managed to catch up with Aizawa he seemed to be laughing at... a sleeping man. Well he had to agree that the guy was a strange sleeper, but then again, he didn't sleep much himself, he usually just lay on the floor, so he probably had no place to judge.

He saw Aizawa close the door and headed to the bathroom, as an obvious decision he went to explore the living room and kitchen, finding a mess in the living room and a practically empty kitchen, well, at least there was nothing on the floor that was dangerous to step on by mistake.

When he finished looking around the house, he was surprised to see Aizawa already lying down with his eyes fixed on his desk, it looked like he was having trouble falling asleep.

-It's okay, I think I can still help you with this,’ Izuku said out loud even though no one would hear him, he brought his hands close to Aizawa's and passed him some of that energy.

Which worked because not a minute later Aizawa was already asleep, Izuku laughed a little and decided that he could stay for the night, after all it's not like he was a big bother.

-I wonder what I could do, I'm not tired so lying down would just pass the time, but I could...’ without realizing it he started to run his fingers through Aizawa's hair.

When he turned to Aizawa he realized what he had done, he quickly came up with the idea of braiding his hair, after all it would be good practice and especially to pass the time. 

With care and lots and lots of patience he started to weave two braids, they were small and were only on the right side, but he felt extremely satisfied, he smiled and decided to explore the flat further and see if he could arrange some things.

---------------------

When it started to get light, Izuku waited for Aizawa to start waking up so he could leave, when Aizawa sat up, Izuku left the flat, on his way back to the park he was singing and jumping, maybe he didn't know the lyrics but it was something that always came to his mind. 

When he was arriving at the park he smiled happily when he saw all the cats waiting at the entrance.

-I'm back,’ Izuku shouted and in response the cats meowed and ran around him.

---------------------

He woke up to the sunlight, which was strange as he didn't just open the curtains, when he sat up in bed, he checked his phone and realised he was up 15 minutes before his alarm, he stood up and did some stretches before going to the bathroom, he was surprised to see that his hair was braided.

Two braids woven on the right side of his head.

He started looking for the rubber bands Hizashi had scattered around the flat, when he found two of the same colour, he put them at the end of the braid and continued with his morning routine.

By the time he was drinking his second cup of coffee, Hizashi came running out of his room.

-SHOTAAA!!! WE'RE COMING! -He quickly activated his quirk as soon as Hizashi was in sight.

-Hizashi I told you to use your quirk, the neighbours are going to report us again, oh, and good morning.

-What, how come you're already awake and ready,’ Hizashi whined, ’I forgot to set the alarm and I haven't even managed to get ready yet!

-I can tell by the fact that your shirt is on backwards,’ he replied as he finished his cup of coffee.

-Oh come on, I swear I had it on right,’ Hizashi was looking at his shirt as if it had betrayed him.

-Go change and you can get dressed on the way, we'll take the car,’ he replied as he grabbed the car keys and motioned for Hizashi to hurry to his room.

Hizashi ran to the room and came back with his shirt on properly and a bag, ‘God, I could kiss you right now’. 

They got into the car and he put on the weather and the radio knowing it would improve Hizashi's mood, who quickly started humming as he began to comb his hair.

As he began to settle in his support team also turned down the music and began to tell the gossip he learned yesterday on the radio. Apparently the secretary's partner was having an affair with one of the new interns, and that yesterday the secretary found out about it because the intern commented on the flowers the secretary had in his garden, which wouldn't be a problem if he hadn't mentioned that they were daisies.

Apparently no one in the entire radio station lived in a house with camellias in the garden besides her, but she also had daisies in her bedroom window which are not visible unless you have a very good view and are looking out of the garden.

The secretary confronted him at the time about how he knew that, and when the intern tried to deflect the conversation by saying he probably had the wrong house, the other two secretaries denied growing flowers as they lived together and didn't have the patience to look after them. 

Apparently Hizashi would have to get the intern out of the company as not only are the secretaries now not only getting him elected, but some of his colleagues commented about leaving the radio station if he was still working.

-I don't know why people do that kind of thing, now I'm going to have to ask him to leave,’ Hizashi sighed and looked out the window at the city.

-Remember that you are not responsible for their actions, they chose to do it and they will have to accept what the repercussions are. - I said just as we arrived at the AU.

-I just wish these things didn't happen,’ Hizashi replied as he finished putting his things away and got out.

I pick up the homework I checked and lock the car, I end up walking beside Hizashi in the direction of the teacher's lounge.

-Oh, by the way, nice hairstyle you have today,’ said Hizashi before entering the teacher's lounge.

-Thank you,’ I replied, heading to my desk and putting down the papers from the last assignment.

Chapter Text

Aizawa had, surprisingly, a good day.

After the minor annoyance that was a rookie hero lecturing him on patrol strategy—an argument that ended with a single look that made the kid reconsider every life choice—his day had unfolded in relative peace.

He’d efficiently silenced his class during combat training with a tired sigh and one unimpressed stare. He had managed to dump an entire folder of barely legible paperwork on Vlad King’s desk with such perfect timing that it ruined the man’s lunch break. And Nemuri had, once again, taken it upon herself to psychoanalyze his "slightly less miserable aura."

“You’ve been smiling more lately,” she had teased. “Got a secret admirer? Or just adopting more stray cats?”

He ignored her, of course. He didn’t have time for that kind of nonsense. And she knew it.

Which is exactly why she said it.

Now, walking through the early evening air with the sky painted in soft lavenders and gold, Aizawa had only two simple things left on his list: a quick patrol and some basic groceries. No chaos. No villain attacks. Just silence.

Blissful, underappreciated silence.

The wind tugged gently at his scarf as he walked to his car, muttering his shopping list like a prayer.

“Rice… milk… oil… wipes… tea… and soda.”

The store was nearly empty—another small mercy. He made his way through the aisles with practiced ease, tossing the essentials into a small handheld basket. He was reaching for the tea when something strange caught his eye.

A small, brightly colored box sat in the middle of the cleaning aisle. It didn’t belong there. He picked it up, half-expecting it to be some child’s lost toy.

But it wasn’t.

“Educational Flashcards for Preschoolers.”

Big, clear letters. Simple words. Cute pictures of animals and objects. Designed to teach basic vocabulary to young children—or anyone who couldn’t speak clearly.

Aizawa stared at the box.

Longer than he meant to.

His brain clicked into motion, fast and silent. The park. The last few patrols. The inexplicable but consistent oddities:

A rust-covered bench wiped clean.

His hair carefully braided during naps—neatly, with precision and intent. Always symmetrical.

His fatigue easing whenever he rested beneath the old oak.

No footprints. No quirks registered. No presence confirmed.

But… he knew. Something—someone—was there.

A presence. Observing. Helping. Gentle.

Aizawa tightened his grip on the box.

What if this someone was trying to reach out?

What if they couldn’t speak, or couldn’t be seen?

What if they were waiting for someone to acknowledge them?

And if this… whatever it was… had helped him—without asking anything in return—then maybe it was time he made the first move.

He added the flashcards to his basket without a word.

By the time he returned to his car and started the engine, his mind was already elsewhere, planning every step of the encounter. He’d go during patrol. Early enough to see. Quiet enough to listen.

No confrontation. No pressure. Just… a chance.

---------------------------------------

The wind had cooled by the time he reached the park.

It was as he remembered: worn-down, long-forgotten, with a haunting kind of stillness. The swings creaked in the breeze, rusted metal groaning softly. A food court structure—four picnic tables under a steel roof—stood like the only shelter left standing in a place time had abandoned.

His cats were already there, waiting. Four of them lounged in the grass near the base of the old oak, while two circled the area with sharp eyes and twitching tails. As Aizawa approached, they didn’t scatter like before—they repositioned, forming a near-perfect circle around a meter of empty space at the center.

He blinked.

They were leaving space. For someone.

No words. No assumptions. Just quiet focus.

He crouched down beneath the food court roof, placed the grocery bag to one side, and gently unzipped it. He pulled out the box of flashcards and a small wooden tray he’d brought from home.

With slow, precise hands, he began to lay out the cards in two neat rows.

HELLO. NAME. FRIEND. SAFE. GIFT. TRUST. STAY. QUIRK. HOME. NEED.

He put the rest of the cards aside in case he needed them later. He kept his posture relaxed, gaze low, hands open. He wasn’t here to intimidate. He wasn’t here to demand.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” he murmured, voice barely above the breeze. “I don’t want anything from you. I just want to talk.”

He placed one final card at the edge of the tray:

CHOOSE.

Then he waited.

The cats around him tensed slightly—not alarmed, but alert. One sat down on the very edge of the invisible circle, watching intently.

A breath of wind brushed past Aizawa’s shoulder.

Then, a card moved.

HELLO.

It slid forward by itself—barely an inch.

Aizawa didn’t move, but something in him shifted. The stiffness in his shoulders eased. His mouth twitched in what might’ve been a smile.

“…So it’s true,” he whispered. “You really are here.”

“…Hello,” Aizawa said, voice carrying like a whisper in a quiet classroom. “My name is Aizawa Shouta. I’m a teacher at U.A. High, and I’m a Pro Hero.”

He sat cross-legged, hands resting on his knees.

“You’ve been following me. Watching. Braiding my hair, even.” His tone was dry but warm. “You’re very… persistent.”

Another card shifted forward.

FRIEND.

“I see,” he murmured. “Is that what we are? Or what you want?”

A third card slid forward—then a fourth, quicker this time.

YOU. SAFE.

Aizawa inhaled slowly.

“You feel safe with me,” he interpreted, quietly. “And you think… I’m not dangerous.”

Izuku, invisible to the human eye but glowing faintly in the eyes of every animal present, stood just a few feet from him. His translucent form trembled faintly—not with fear, but with wonder. This was the first time in a long, long while that someone had spoken to him.

Not through a cat. Not into empty space.

To him.

Aizawa adjusted the tray and placed two new cards.

CAN. STAY?

“If I said yes… would you?” he asked softly. “Would you stay here with me? Or maybe… come home, if you wanted?”

Izuku hesitated.

He reached out and pushed one word forward.

HOME.

Then, more slowly:

MINE?

Aizawa studied the cards.

“…You want to know if you belong somewhere.”

Another nod. Subtle. A rustle in the air.

“You do,” he said, no hesitation. “You do now. If you want to stay—my place is safe. Always.”

Izuku’s hand hovered again, unsure.

He looked at the card that read QUIRK?, then gently slid it toward Aizawa.

“You’re asking… if I think you’re using a quirk,” he said aloud.

Izuku nodded once.

Aizawa didn’t answer right away. He set down a card of his own.

MAYBE.

Then, meeting the space where he thought the boy’s eyes might be, he added:

“But I have the feeling that you will say no. Right?”

Izuku carefully slid one card to the front:

NO. QUIRK

A long silence followed.

Aizawa leaned back slightly, arms resting on his thighs. The wind stirred his scarf. His eyes remained on the cards.

“Then what are you?” he asked, not accusingly—just with quiet curiosity.

GHOST

Seeing that Aizawa seemed to be processing his response.

Izuku didn’t reach for the tray. Not this time.

Instead, he hovered. Thinking.

Then, finally, he moved 2 cards, placing them carefully side by side.

ALONE. LOST.

Aizawa’s expression didn’t change, but the shift in his body said enough. A breath caught in his throat. He exhaled slowly, deeply.

“…Not anymore,” he said. “I’m here now.”

He added one last card.

WELCOME.

Izuku stared at it for a long moment. Then his hand—trembling slightly—reached out and pushed the card gently forward.

And for the first time since the day he died—

Izuku felt seen.

_______________________________________

Aizawa stood slowly, brushing dust from his knees.

The cats circled him once more, then began to drift away, tails high, content. He gave each one a subtle nod of thanks—he never spoke to them like pets. They were companions, watchers, quiet witnesses to everything that had just happened.

The flashcards were carefully collected, one by one, and placed back into the box. He hesitated before packing up the tray. Something about it… felt sacred now. But he placed it gently in the grocery bag.

He looked at the empty clearing one last time.

“…Goodnight,” he murmured.

Then, turning toward the path, he left the park behind.

--------------------------------------------------

Izuku didn’t mean to follow him. Not really.

He had meant to stay behind, to sit with the warmth that lingered in the space where Aizawa had been. But his feet moved on instinct, and his heart—it was still echoing.

He wasn’t sure what it was he felt. Hope? Trust? The fragile beginning of something?

Whatever it was, he couldn’t let it vanish with the man’s footsteps.

So he followed.

Silently. Invisibly.

His green glow dimmed to a soft pulse as he drifted behind, keeping pace.

-----------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, Aizawa was already halfway to spiraling.

His calm exterior remained unchanged, but inside, his thoughts were scattering like leaves in a storm.

Okay. You may have… possibly… accidentally adopted a ghost.

Or a lost soul. Or an incredibly confused child with a quirk so powerful and so undetectable that every scanner in Musutafu had failed to catch it. He didn’t know which option was worse.

He gripped the steering wheel as he pulled onto a side street.

He was still trying to figure out what had hit him.

The kid moved the cards. Communicated. Understood everything I said. Responded faster the longer we talked. He was paying attention. Learning.

And when he’d pushed the card that read “HOME”…

Aizawa had felt something crack inside his ribs.

He hadn't just seen a lonely child. He had seen one that had probably been alone for a very, very long time.

That was the part that got to him. That made his hands itch to do something.

He glanced at the passenger seat. Empty, of course.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he muttered.

But his brain was already three steps ahead.

-----------------------------------------

The apartment.

Right. The apartment was a problem.

Three bedrooms. One for him. One for Hizashi, who basically lived there half the time, since he works more than he rests, he has no idea how he does it.. And one was an office—currently half-destroyed, full of ungraded papers, broken gear, old sleeping bags, and exactly two unopened boxes labeled “do not open, ever, Nemuri.”

Could he clear the office out?

Yes.

Would it take more than a day?

Also yes.

Would Hizashi ask a thousand questions if he suddenly found child-sized furniture in the spare room?

Absolutely.

“Shit.”

He'd need to talk to Hizashi.

Eventually.

Soon.

Definitely before the man walked in, saw a cup floating in midair, and started screaming about haunted dishware.

Aizawa parked in front of his building and shut off the engine with a sigh. He leaned back against the seat, eyes closed.

He had time. Not much, but enough.

Just a plan. He needed a plan.

He couldn’t just… not tell anyone.

Tsukauchi. Maybe.

Sansa. Possibly.

He trusted them both. But how exactly was he supposed to phrase that?

"Hey, I think there’s an invisible child haunting an abandoned park, and he started braiding my hair, so I brought him home."

They’d assume sleep deprivation.

Or a breakdown.

Which, fair.

He rubbed his face with both hands.

No. Start with the basics.

Make more flashcards.

Find out his name.

Ask how long he’s been here.

Ask what he remembers.

And do not bombard him. Too many questions might scare him off. He already responded so gently, so… cautiously. The way he’d shuffled the cards, then waited. The way he pushed the ones with pictures forward like they were easier to understand.

He’s probably young. Smart, but young. Maybe nonverbal. Maybe—

A faint movement pulled him from his thoughts.

The cats.

Two of them had followed him. They sat at the base of the building steps, watching something over his shoulder.

He turned.

No one was there.

Aizawa narrowed his eyes.

“…You're here, aren't you?” he whispered.

Nothing.

No sound. No breeze.

But he felt it.

A soft warmth at his back. Familiar, shy.

He didn’t say anything else. Just opened the door and held it wide.

------------------------------------

Izuku paused.

The door stood open. A quiet offer.

He hesitated.

Then stepped inside.

Izuku drifted deeper into the living room. A cat jumped up onto the windowsill and yawned.

He watched as Aizawa moved automatically through his routine—removing his boots, setting the bag down, turning on a small space heater in the corner.

No words.

Not yet.

Then Aizawa glanced toward the hallway and muttered, “Gonna need to clear out the office.”

He sighed again, tugging his scarf loose, now clearly talking more to himself than anyone else.

“Blankets. Another toothbrush, even if he doesn’t need it. Hell, should I try leaving food out? Is he eating? Does he need to eat?”

A pause.

“…Do ghosts eat?”

No answer, of course.

Except for the sound of a card gently sliding off the coffee table.

Aizawa blinked.

Walked over.

GIFT.

He stared.

Then exhaled. Smiled, just barely.

“…Yeah,” he said. “You really are something.”

Chapter Text

Two shapes immediately padded over from the living room — the cats — tails held high, ears perked.

They didn’t even glance at Aizawa first. Instead, both darted past his legs and stopped at… thin air. Well, thin air to anyone else. Their heads tilted, purring loud enough to be heard across the room. One rubbed its head against nothing, the other sat down and flicked its tail expectantly.

Aizawa didn’t need to look to know exactly who they were greeting.

He let his coat slide off his shoulders and onto the hook by the door. “You can sit on the couch if you want,” he said in a tone that made it sound like the most ordinary thing in the world. He gestured toward the sofa, worn but comfortable, and then walked over himself, watching as the cushions gave the faintest suggestion of movement — a tiny depression where no one visible sat. The cats immediately hopped up, curling around that invisible shape like they’d been waiting for it all day.

Aizawa took a seat on the armrest. “Temporary arrangement,” he muttered. “If you stay here, you need a space that’s yours.”

He didn’t expect an answer, but one of the flashcards on the coffee table — still left out from the park — gave a faint twitch. It was enough to confirm Izuku was listening.

“First thought: my room.” He said it like a checklist item, already shaking his head. “Not practical. Too much of my stuff, not enough privacy for you.”

The flashcard twitched again, this time tilting as though shaking its head in agreement.

Aizawa ignored the small spark of amusement that lit in his chest. “Second thought: the office.” He glanced toward the short hallway that led to the cluttered space. “It’s a mess. Papers, gear, boxes. I’d have to clear it out.”

That got a stronger reaction — two flashcards lifted a few centimeters off the table before settling back down.

“You find this funny?” Aizawa asked, eyes narrowing but voice even.

The response was slow and hesitant — a card with the picture of a bed nudged itself half an inch away from the rest, then tapped the table twice.

“…You don’t sleep?”

It took several more tries — and one very determined cat paw batting at the card as if to ‘help’ — but eventually Izuku managed to push forward another card with a big red X drawn over a bed.

Aizawa frowned. “Not needing a bed doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have a room.”

The cards shifted in something that looked suspiciously like a sigh.

“I’m clearing the office,” Aizawa decided, tone final. “You can use it however you want. Doesn’t matter if you never sleep there.” He didn’t say out loud that giving Izuku a space was more for his own peace of mind — some proof that the kid had a place here, that he wasn’t just floating through the apartment like a stray breeze.

As he mentally mapped out what had to be moved — the old filing cabinet, the extra hero gear, the stack of case files — his brain was already jumping to the bigger problem. Hizashi.

There was no world where Present Mic wouldn’t notice something. The cats were enough of a giveaway, and Hizashi had a talent for spotting anything unusual in Aizawa’s routine. The man would demand to know why the office was suddenly spotless or why Aizawa was talking to thin air more than usual.

He’d have to tell him. Somehow.

The thought made his jaw tighten. Hizashi could be trusted — there was no question there — but explaining this was going to sound absurd even for them. Hey, there’s a kid in the apartment now. You can’t see or hear him. But he’s here. Don’t freak out if the flashcards start moving on their own. Yeah, that would go over great.

And then there was Tsukauchi. And Sansa. If Izuku stayed for long, not reporting him would raise questions Aizawa didn’t feel like answering. But what would he even report? There was no Quirk registry entry for “invisible to all humans, including audio sensors,” no paperwork for “possibly not alive in the usual sense.”

He dragged a hand down his face, glancing toward the sofa. The cats were still pressed up against that empty spot, one kneading at the air like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Alright,” he said, standing. “Come on. Let’s look at the office.”

As he moved down the hallway, the faint scuff of cards sliding on the coffee table followed him, along with the soft pad of unseen footsteps and the patter of four paws.

The office door creaked open to reveal a cramped space dominated by a desk buried in papers, a chair with a ripped cushion, and shelves full of dusty binders. It wasn’t much — honestly, it was kind of a disaster — but it was space.

Aizawa crossed his arms. “Yeah. Needs work.”

A pen on the desk lifted, wobbling in the air for a moment before writing — uneven and a little shaky — on a scrap of paper: Not necessary.

“You’re getting it anyway.”

There was a long pause before the pen slowly drew something else: a tiny smiley face.

Aizawa huffed, which for him was practically a laugh.

----------------------------------------

Izuku was in a good mood.

He knew Aizawa couldn’t see him at all, which made it the perfect time to pull exaggerated faces and ridiculous poses. Not a single reaction. The man just kept moving boxes and muttering under his breath, oblivious. The cats, however, seemed to appreciate the performance, following him with their golden eyes and flicking tails as if they understood every single joke. One of them even rolled over in the middle of the kitchen floor, batting lazily at the air where Izuku had just made a dramatic bow.

For some reason, Aizawa seemed convinced that Izuku needed a room. An actual room. Izuku wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like he slept—at least, not in the way humans did. The closest he had ever come to “sleep” was that heavy, foggy exhaustion when he’d used his quirk too much. Otherwise… he didn’t remember ever lying down to rest.

He couldn’t stop himself from chuckling—well, internally—when Aizawa took the paper with his draw on it and slapped it against the fridge with a magnet. Like it was some kind of official household document: Proof of Invisible Resident. Izuku decided he might actually be happy here.

When Aizawa put a few empty boxes on the floor, Izuku wandered over and tried to help, sliding random objects into them. Of course, he avoided the boxes with a cat already inside—apparently cardboard was irresistible to them. He watched with curiosity as Aizawa methodically sorted everything, carrying some boxes to his bedroom, others to the closet.

Izuku didn’t understand why the man was making such a fuss over something he didn’t even remember having. A room? A bed? A blanket? Of course he knew what they were—he wasn’t ignorant—but he had no memory of ever needing or owning any of them.

Still, it was… oddly nice. Someone making space for him, even if he didn’t need it.

As Aizawa worked, Izuku noticed him murmur a name again—“Hizashi.” He’d caught it once or twice before, usually in that same low tone, almost like a private thought. Whoever Hizashi was, Aizawa clearly thought he’d be important to all this. Izuku tilted his head. Probably someone he’d meet later. Maybe. If Aizawa figured out how to introduce him without making himself sound completely insane.

------------------------------------------

Hizashi had been expecting a quiet evening. The sight of the apartment’s lights glowing through the window as he approached was a good sign—Shouta was still awake. Maybe they could eat together. He cursed the 2-for-3 promotions that had convinced him to buy far too much food, but at least it meant leftovers for tomorrow.

Unlocking the door, he stepped inside, still juggling the bags, only to freeze mid-step. Shouta walked past him in the hallway, carrying two cardboard boxes toward his bedroom. Two cats padded behind him, their tails high and curious, as if they owned the place.

Hizashi blinked. Wait—what? They definitely hadn’t had cats this morning. And Shouta? The man wasn’t exactly the “bring home pets” type… especially not without warning him first. This wasn’t adding up.

Kicking off his outdoor shoes and sliding on his house slippers with practiced speed, Hizashi set the bags of food down on the dining table. Whatever was going on, it wasn’t going to wait until after dinner.

He followed Shouta to the bedroom, catching sight of him crouched near the open wardrobe. Shouta was tucking the boxes neatly into the corner, some into the closet itself, others stacked beside the dresser. The cats, apparently satisfied with supervising, sat on the bed and flicked their tails lazily.

“What are you doing?” Hizashi asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Shouta didn’t look up immediately, but his voice came out calm. “Cleaning the office.”

“…Right,” Hizashi said slowly, glancing between the man and the boxes. “And we’re doing that now because…?”

Shouta finally turned, meeting his gaze. “Because we need to talk about something.”

The tone was steady, but it wasn’t casual. Hizashi’s stomach tightened. “Okay… should I be worried? Like—did I do something wrong? Or is this more of a… last-minute situation?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Shouta replied firmly, shutting the wardrobe door. “It’s… something that happened. And I made a decision without consulting you first.”

Hizashi frowned. That never happened—Shouta was usually the type to argue out the pros and cons of even the smallest household change. “Alright… so what kind of decision are we talking about here?”

Shouta’s eyes softened just slightly, but his voice stayed serious. “One you need to know about… and decide if you want me to stay, or if you’d rather I leave.”

Chapter Text

Nedzu was fairly certain he was no more than three paws away from madness.

For someone of his intellect, it was downright insulting that he still hadn’t figured out the reason behind Aizawa’s so-called “minor changes.” By all accounts, he should have cracked the mystery ages ago.

He’d tried everything.

Eavesdropping through the ventilation grates—surely someone had to know what was going on. Unfortunately, no one seemed aware of the reason either. Not Present Mic, not Midnight, not even the ever-nosy students.

For two days straight, he’d even attempted to shadow Aizawa personally.

And the most shocking event wasn’t a clue to his behavior—it was watching Aizawa verbally eviscerate a rookie hero in broad daylight. The poor man looked like he was being scolded by his disappointed father in front of a crowd.

Nedzu was reasonably certain a few memes had popped up afterward. By some miracle—or perhaps, thanks to his own quick paws—the photos hadn’t made it into the news cycle, but that didn’t mean they weren’t floating around on the internet somewhere.

The whole ordeal was driving him to consider measures that might be… well, technically illegal.

Maybe he should install cameras to monitor all of his staff, get a glimpse into their personal lives to unravel these sorts of mysteries before they turned into distractions.

Of course, there were laws about that sort of thing. Pesky, inconvenient laws.

So either he needed to come up with a very convincing excuse… or wait for the perfect idea to appear out of nowhere. Preferably soon, before his curiosity gnawed straight through his last nerve.

---------------------------

Hizashi was extremely nervous. Shouta had led them both to the table, asked him to sit across from him, and then—without a word—pulled out two chairs. He sat in one and left the other conspicuously empty. Hizashi wasn’t about to comment on that bizarre detail, not when his nerves were already chewing him alive.

Deciding it was better to rip off the band-aid, he leaned forward slightly. “Okay, Sho, what’s the problem?” he asked, trying to sound casual but failing spectacularly.

Shouta turned his head toward the empty chair, then glanced at the two cats lounging nearby, and finally fixed his dark eyes on Hizashi. The silence stretched a beat too long, and Hizashi, in a bid to keep himself from fidgeting, clasped his hands together on the table, fingers laced tightly.

Shouta exhaled, long and tired. “I think I might’ve just adopted a kid,” he said flatly. “And, apparently, an entire… very large… group of cats.”

Hizashi blinked. Once. Twice. He was certain he’d misheard. “I’m sorry—what? Adopted a what and a what now?”

“A kid. And a bunch of cats,” Shouta repeated, as if that clarified anything.

Hizashi stared at him, slack-jawed, trying to parse those words into something that made sense. “You’re gonna have to explain what you mean by adopted a kid and a group of cats, Sho.”

Shouta sighed again, dragging a hand through his messy hair before speaking. “There’s an abandoned park I found a while ago. I’ve been visiting it regularly—before or after patrols. All the cats in the area seem to gather there. It’s not just cats, either. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen birds, crows, raccoons—like some kind of unofficial wildlife convention.”

Hizashi stared at him like he was trying to translate the description into something coherent. “Okay… and this explains the kid how?”

Shouta’s expression didn’t change, but he shifted slightly in his chair. “I started noticing weird things. Bruises and exhaustion fading whenever I went there. My hair… usually ends up in some kind of braid when I leave.”

Hizashi blinked at him again. “Wait. Braid? As in… someone is braiding your hair while you’re not looking? In an abandoned park full of cats and raccoons?”

“Apparently,” Shouta said with the same tone someone might use to discuss the weather.

Hizashi stared at him for several seconds, unsure if his best friend had finally lost his mind or if there really was some kind of horror-movie twist waiting to be revealed. Shouta, unfazed by the incredulous look, decided to keep talking.

“I knew something—or someone—was doing it,” Shouta said, his voice as calm as if he were giving a mission report. “But they didn’t seem to have bad intentions. So I let them… keep at it. The braiding. The bruises healing. Whatever it was.”

Hizashi opened his mouth to reply, closed it, then opened it again. Nothing came out. His hands clenched together tighter on the table, fingers whitening.

Sho’s always been weird, but this is… even for him.

Shouta, ignoring the skeptical silence, kept going. “Then one day, I was out buying supplies. Ran into a pack of these.” He reached down beside his chair and, with all the gravity of someone unveiling classified evidence, pulled a colorful box onto the table.

Hizashi blinked down at it. “What… are those?”

“Interactive flashcards,” Shouta said, already opening the box and beginning to pull them out one by one. Brightly colored cards, each with a large printed word and a matching cartoon picture, clacked softly against the wooden table as he spread them out. “They have words and images. For kids learning to read.”

Hizashi’s jaw worked soundlessly again. He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or start calling someone for help. “Sho. Are you—are you good? Like, mentally? You buy flashcards, for what—your imaginary hair-braiding park spirit?”

Shouta didn’t answer. He just kept pulling cards out, neat and deliberate, until the small stack sat between them. He was about to speak again when something happened that made Hizashi’s entire train of thought derail.

Two cards—on their own—suddenly slid across the table. Smoothly. As if pushed by invisible hands.

One stopped directly in front of Hizashi’s place at the table. The other landed neatly beside it. The words on them were simple, written in bright block letters:

HELLO.

WELCOME.

Hizashi froze. His brain completely short-circuited. “Wh—”

There was no breeze. No draft. No magnets under the table. And judging by how Shouta remained perfectly still, hands nowhere near the cards, this wasn’t some elaborate prank.

Hizashi’s wide eyes flicked to his friend, then back to the cards.

Unseen by him, Izuku Midoriya—small, invisible, and vibrating with nervous excitement—hovered right in front of him, grinning in silent delight. Neither adult could see him, but that didn’t matter. He got to watch the exact moment Hizashi’s disbelief turned into stunned wonder, and it was the highlight of his week. He nudged the cards one last time to make sure they were positioned just right, then scampered back across the table and clambered onto the empty chair beside Shouta. From there, Izuku tilted his head toward the tired man like a child waiting for approval.

Shouta didn’t look at the empty chair. Instead, his eyes stayed locked on Hizashi, studying every flicker of emotion crossing his friend’s face. The silence stretched again, charged now with something almost eerie.

“Sho,” Hizashi croaked finally. “Did—did you just—did the cards just move by themselves?”

Shouta’s lips quirked, the faintest ghost of a smirk that wasn’t really a smile. “I told you. Probably a kid.” His tone was matter-of-fact, as if they weren’t sitting in his apartment watching invisible forces interact with teaching tools. “The first time it happened, I thought I was sleep-deprived. Maybe hallucinating. But I noticed patterns. The way the cards moved, the words picked. They always matched the conversation. And whoever it is—” he nodded toward the cards still resting by Hizashi’s hands— “is polite.”

Hizashi swallowed hard. “You’re telling me… there’s an invisible kid… here. Right now. Saying hi. With flashcards.”

“Most likely,” Shouta said simply.

Hizashi wasn’t sure if he wanted to scream or laugh hysterically. “And you… invited them here?”

Shouta leaned back slightly, still perfectly composed. “Yeah. Based on the words, and the way they move the cards, I figured they were young. Maybe alone. Whoever it is, they invited me to stay when I first found them. So I told them the same applied here. If they wanted company, or food, or a safe place—they could come.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with something unspoken. Hizashi felt it settle in his chest: the quiet compassion Shouta always carried, the way he noticed things others missed. Even if that “thing” was an invisible child hiding in an abandoned park, braiding his hair and healing his bruises.

Hizashi’s voice softened, almost without meaning to. “Sho… are you even listening to yourself? You sound like you’re living in a ghost story.”

Shouta’s eyes flicked briefly toward the empty chair, and though his face betrayed nothing, there was a weight to his gaze. “Maybe I am,” he said quietly. “But they’re not hurting anyone. And I think they need me.”

At the table, Izuku’s small invisible hands clenched in the fabric of the chair, chest swelling with a warmth he didn’t have words for. He couldn’t tell them how long he’d been alone, or how much it meant that someone saw enough to reach out. But he could keep moving the cards, keep saying hello, keep staying close.

And judging by Hizashi’s stunned expression, that was enough for now.

Shota decided he had given enough of an explanation for now. Hizashi hadn’t screamed, panicked, or bolted from the room, which was already a far calmer reaction than he’d expected. In fact, his best friend seemed more shocked into silence than anything else. That was good enough for Shota to move on to the next point.

Without any ceremony, he slid the stack of flashcards to the side, carefully placing them in front of the “extra” chair he had set earlier. His eyes turned to Hizashi, expression as serious and unreadable as ever, and his voice carried the same dry weight that made most heroes quake when he questioned them.

“Do you think,” he began, the words deliberate, “that I should tell Tsukauchi and Nedzu?”

Hizashi stared at him in complete silence for several seconds. It wasn’t the kind of silence that begged to be filled—rather, the heavy kind where you could hear thoughts clattering around inside someone’s skull as they tried to make sense of something utterly impossible. He got up from his chair without answering, walked over to the kitchen, and started pulling out food from wherever he had stashed it earlier. The sounds of cabinets opening, plates clinking, and wrappers crinkling filled the space for a moment.

When Hizashi finally returned with the entire meal balanced in his arms and set it down on the table, he exhaled slowly and answered in a tone that carried no hint of panic, just pragmatic resignation.

“You should tell Tsukauchi,” he said matter-of-factly, glancing briefly at the empty chair Shota had been addressing like it wasn’t empty at all. “We’re avoiding Nedzu for now. Sansa will find out eventually—probably through Tsukauchi—but that’s fine.”

Then, with a shrug and a sudden burst of his usual energy, he added, “And we’re all eating together. Don’t care if whoever’s sitting there doesn’t actually eat. Dinner’s a family event tonight. After that, we pick a movie, watch it, and go to sleep. Conversations about mysterious kids, feral cats, and office politics? That’s tomorrow’s problem.”

Shota rose silently from his chair, stepped over to Hizashi, and gave him the briefest of one-armed hugs before disappearing into the kitchen. He returned with drinks—placing a bottle of soda in front of Hizashi, a glass of flavored water in front of his own plate, and… a neat little pile of blank sheets of paper, along with pens and a set of colored markers next to the flashcards.

Hizashi blinked at the gesture, more surprised by that than by the idea that his best friend might be secretly cohabiting with an invisible child and a colony of cats.

And then it happened again.

One of the cards suddenly lifted, swift and precise, moving with a flutter to hover directly in front of Hizashi. It was the one labeled “Thank you.”

It hovered there for a heartbeat, then swiveled toward Shota, as if addressing him too, before settling back down with the others.

Hizashi’s jaw actually dropped this time. His rational mind tried and failed to make sense of what he’d just seen—because no amount of pro hero training had ever prepared him for ghostly greeting cards.

“…You’re welcome,” he said after a moment, the words automatic, because what else did you even say to a disembodied ‘thank you’? His voice cracked slightly, though he tried to hide it with his usual energy.

Shota, on the other hand, didn’t even blink. “While we eat,” he said flatly, as if this was the most normal dinner arrangement in the world, “you can draw.”

That was all the encouragement Izuku needed. Even if neither man could see him, they could see the card. That was enough.

He darted toward the papers and markers with a kind of excitement he hadn’t felt in so long. His tiny hands trembled as he grabbed the brightest color he could find and began to scribble something. It had been ages since he’d had anything to write on—ages since he’d been able to create instead of just exist.

Chapter Text

Hizashi was completely stunned. The last twenty-four hours simply couldn’t be described with any words or sentences he knew—and considering he was fluent in both English and Japanese, plus sign language, that was saying something.

He supposed he had the “good fortune” of being sent home by his agency, though their request hadn’t exactly been flattering. They’d told him to tone down his “aggressiveness” and stop falling back into his “bad habit” of ending fights with villains too quickly. Which was absurd, really. First of all, villains deserved what they got. Second of all, it wasn’t his fault if his Quirk made short work of them. Third—none of that compared to the fact that Sho had apparently just… adopted a ghost child.

At first, Hizashi had thought it was some kind of dry, dark joke only Shouta would make. But then the cards had moved. And then the papers. And then the crayons and markers had been picked up and dragged across the page in a flurry of shaky little lines that were unmistakably a kid’s doodles. Not to mention the cats—those damn cats, who all turned their heads in unison, following “someone” moving across the room.

It wasn’t just one cat, or two. It was all of them. Their golden eyes tracked the invisible presence as naturally as breathing, shifting together every time, like a choreographed dance of disbelief.

And if that wasn’t enough, when Shouta claimed the kid had “gone to another room,” the cats followed with their tails high, trotting after thin air. Hizashi didn’t even like cats, but for once he was grateful for their eerie precision. At least they confirmed he wasn’t hallucinating.

He had asked Shouta to talk about it later—tomorrow. They both needed time, right? But unfortunately, tomorrow was now. He couldn’t use work as an excuse like he had in the morning when he’d slipped out of the apartment under the guise of “responsibilities.” He was trapped.

There was no avoiding the truth anymore. Hizashi Yamada, Present Mic, pro hero, Voice Hero Extraordinaire—was now living with his best friend, two cats, and a kid who definitely wasn’t alive.

When Hizashi walked into the apartment, the first thing he noticed was the dark.

Of course. Sho was covering the earlier evening patrol today—he’d completely forgotten. The sigh that escaped him was heavy, but he didn’t dwell on it. He kicked off his boots and padded toward his room, peeling away the layers of his hero costume piece by piece. The relief of slipping into loose sweats was almost enough to settle him. Almost.

He grabbed the jar of cream from his dresser, smoothing a bit through his blond hair. The gel would break down easier later in the shower—another small ritual in a long day. Hizashi stretched, rolling his shoulders until the faintest crack echoed in the room, then wandered back out into the hall.

That’s when he saw it.

The light spilling faintly from the office—the one Sho had insisted on clearing out last night.

Hizashi frowned, curiosity tugging at him. He padded closer, careful not to make too much noise.

And then he froze.

Inside, the cats were all lined up in a neat half-circle, their tails twitching like metronomes. Their wide eyes tracked the middle of the room, where a small collection of brightly colored toys was moving.

Hero figures.

Cementoss. Thirteen. Ectoplasm. And—Hizashi blinked—Present Mic.

The toys shifted, bobbing and colliding in the air, as if locked in some miniature, silent battle. One figure lunged, another toppled dramatically, only to be propped back up and forced into the fray again. The cats followed every jerky movement like they were watching prime-time TV.

For a second, Hizashi couldn’t breathe. His chest clenched, too tight, too sharp. Because there was no denying it now—this was the first thing their new… guest had chosen to do. Play.

It wasn’t malicious. It wasn’t eerie, despite how impossible it looked. It was just… a kid, making toys fight the way kids always did.

And the thought cut right through him.

Hizashi’s throat tightened as his eyes shifted left, catching sight of the scattered cardboard boxes and plastic wrappings piled in the corner. The packaging the toys had come in, all torn open, evidence of eager little hands—or whatever passed for them.

He took a slow step back, then another, retreating from the doorway. The scene remained undisturbed, the cats twitching their tails, the toys bobbing in midair.

Hizashi pressed a palm over his mouth, forcing himself not to let the soundless laugh-cry building in his chest slip out. He couldn’t interrupt. Couldn’t ruin this.

Instead, he turned, heading straight for the kitchen. His footsteps were soft, but his mind was anything but.

He had too much to think about.

And even more he had to talk to Sho about.

-----------------------------

Shota had been having a surprisingly good morning. He woke up not because of an alarm, but because of the faint chaos filtering in from down the hall. Hizashi’s voice echoed with rushed words, footsteps thudded against the wooden floor, and then came the unmistakable clatter of pans, mugs, and who-knows-what else tumbling in the kitchen. Shota sat up slowly, hair falling into his face, and listened.

From the sound of it, Hizashi was scrambling again. Shota caught the hurried goodbye, words tossed into the air like confetti as Hizashi promised to “finish the conversation later” before the door closed behind him. A silence followed, and for a moment Shota just sat there in bed, lips twitching into a small, amused smile.

It wasn’t the first time. Zashi had been late nearly every day this week. He threw himself into mornings like a man running into battle, and more often than not, he lost. Shota wondered absently if maybe it was time to get him a proper alarm clock. Not the kind that could be snoozed ten times over, but something merciless, something that might actually drag Hizashi out of bed when his energy was still wrapped in dreams. Or maybe, he thought with a faint huff, new headphones would be a better gift—Hizashi’s current pair looked like they’d been rescued from a dumpster and were one misstep away from breaking in half.

He was still thinking about it, weighing the options in his head, when the quiet creak of his bedroom door pulled him back. Shota shifted his gaze. The door eased open and, one by one, the cats slipped inside. Their paws were soundless on the floor, but their eyes were focused—sharp, curious, and all directed toward the same spot. Toward the boy.

Shota’s muscles reacted before his mind had completely caught up. He straightened, the sluggish heaviness of sleep rolling off his shoulders, and settled into a more attentive posture. His lips curved into a small, almost invisible smile.

“Good morning,” he said softly, his voice still rough with sleep but steady enough to carry warmth.

For a moment, he thought about leaving it at that. But the boy deserved more than silence, deserved a choice, some kind of anchor to start the day with. So he added:

“Would you like to watch television, or maybe go out for a while? We can do whatever you want today. I only have patrol at sunset.”

There was no verbal answer—there rarely was—but Shota heard the faintest of sounds: a tiny knock, a shuffle against the doorframe, like the ghost of a reply. Then, just as quickly, the sudden burst of noise from the living room as the television flickered to life.

The corners of Shota’s mouth twitched again, not quite a smile, but close. He could hear the scamper of paws in the hallway—the cats, racing with all the urgency of children called to recess. They knew. Somehow, they always knew when the boy had made a choice.

Pushing himself up fully, Shota moved with slow, deliberate steps toward the kitchen. He didn’t rush; he rarely did. His body carried the weight of habit, the quiet rhythm of a man who conserved energy for battles worth fighting. Still, there was something light in his movements this morning, something eased.

The kitchen welcomed him with cool air and clean counters. He reached automatically for the kettle, filled it, and set it to boil. His hands moved without thought—mug, coffee grounds, a spoon. The scent began to rise, rich and grounding, filling the space with something that felt almost like peace.

From where he stood, he could see the flicker of light spilling from the television. The boy had chosen a hero movie, one of the older ones that still carried that mixture of awe and dramatization, where the battles were cleaner, the victories more absolute. Shota didn’t need to step closer to imagine the scene: the boy sitting quietly, animals gathered around as if they too were invested, eyes reflecting the glow of the screen.

He stirred his coffee slowly, listening. In the silence between dialogue and music, he thought he could catch the faintest shifts of weight, the kind of quiet movements that gave away emotion. The boy wasn’t laughing, but he wasn’t retreating either. There was engagement there. Curiosity. Maybe even wonder.

Shota let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. It was a fragile thing, this progress, like walking across glass. He didn’t want to startle it, didn’t want to press too hard. The boy was still a guest, still a presence that slipped between being there and not-there, still hesitant to claim space in a house that wasn’t his. But every little choice mattered. Turning on the television. Picking a movie. Sharing the moment—even if only through the eyes of cats.

Cradling his mug, Shota leaned against the counter and allowed himself a few seconds to simply watch the shifting glow of light from the other room. There would be time to join him later.

---------------------------------

Izuku hadn’t expected the sound of the lock turning so soon. His ears pricked up at the soft metallic click, and before his thoughts had time to fully catch up, his body had already moved. He darted toward the door, feet silent against the floor, his breath caught between excitement and nervousness.

The familiar voice carried through the apartment a moment later, rough but steady. “I’m back.”

Izuku froze in the hallway. Something about those words sent a spark through his chest—warm, grounding, real. He peeked from behind the doorway, wide eyes catching sight of Aizawa stepping inside, arms full. The first thing Izuku noticed was the bag. It was massive, bigger than anything he’d seen Aizawa carry before. The sharp, colorful logo printed on the side made it clear what it was: cat food. Enough for weeks, maybe months. Izuku’s stomach tightened with a complicated mix of awe and guilt. It looked expensive. Too much. He hadn’t meant for Aizawa to go to such trouble.

Then he saw the second bag. Smaller, lighter, stamped with a bright logo—something blocky, geometric. Izuku tilted his head, confused. It didn’t look like groceries, and it didn’t look like anything Aizawa normally bought for himself.

Aizawa didn’t explain, at least not right away. He simply set the enormous bag of cat food down against the wall, as if shrugging off a weight, then walked straight past the kitchen and toward the room that had slowly become his—Izuku’s. The boy trailed after him, hesitant but eager, watching every movement.

By the time Izuku stepped into the doorway, Aizawa had already lowered himself to the floor with the heavy kind of sigh that came after long days. He looked up, tired eyes softening just a little.

“Kid,” he said, his voice steady but carrying a note of something else—almost fondness. “Come here. I got you something.”

Izuku’s eyes widened, his whole body moving before his mind had caught up. He crossed the room quickly and plopped down in front of Aizawa, knees pressed together, back straight with anticipation. His gaze fell to the second bag now sitting between them. Aizawa tugged it closer, opened it, and pushed it gently forward.

The boy leaned in, cautious but curious. For a moment, all he saw were boxes stacked inside, glossy cardboard catching the light. And then his eyes focused—figures, shapes, familiar designs. His breath caught. They were toys. Hero toys.

Tiny versions of the people he’d seen on television and in magazines. Present Mic with his ridiculous energy captured in plastic. Cementoss, Thirteen, Ectoplasm—all there, frozen in miniature, waiting.

Izuku’s hands trembled where they rested on his knees. Something inside him ached, raw and unsteady. It had been so long since anyone had given him anything like this. So long since someone had thought of him as… a child.

He scrambled suddenly, reaching for paper and the green crayon he’d been using earlier. His hand moved fast, desperate to say something, anything that could convey what he felt. But before he could even press the crayon down, Aizawa’s voice cut through the air again.

“Figured since I’ll be out a lot, you might get bored here. Thought these could help. Consider it a welcome gift.”

The words sank into Izuku like warm sunlight. His chest tightened, and his throat burned with the force of emotions he couldn’t voice. Instead, he pressed the crayon harder to the paper, words scrawling out uneven and shaky: “Thank you.”

He held the page up, green letters uneven but earnest, eyes wide and glassy as he looked at Aizawa.

The man only nodded, his mouth tugging into the barest hint of a smile, the kind you had to know him well to even recognize.

Izuku ducked his head, hugging the paper close for just a second before reaching eagerly for the toys, the cats already circling with curious eyes, tails flicking as if they too wanted to welcome the new additions.

-------------------------------

Aizawa paused at the threshold, keys in hand, the faintest sound brushing against his ears. It wasn’t the shuffle of paws against the floorboards—he could tell the difference by now. No, this was softer, lighter. A small sound. Laughter.

For a moment, he didn’t breathe. The idea alone seemed absurd. He hadn’t heard that kind of sound in this apartment in years, maybe ever. He turned slightly, eyes drifting back toward the dim hallway where the glow of the television spilled faintly under the door of what had become the child’s space.

The corner of his mouth tugged upward, almost against his will. It was so faint, barely there, but it was a smile nonetheless. He shook his head, dark hair brushing against his shoulders as he muttered to himself. “I'm glad you liked it.…”

Stepping back inside, he made one last round. The television in the living room—off. Lights in the kitchen—off. He checked the stove even though he hadn’t used it, a habit ingrained by years of careful living. He made sure the stack of blank sheets and the scattered crayons were within reach on the low table, easy for small hands to grab when the urge to scribble struck. The toys he’d brought home earlier were already spread across the floor, tiny heroes locked mid-battle as cats prowled curiously around them.

Everything in its place. Everything prepared for the boy who technically shouldn’t exist.

Satisfied, he tugged on his capture scarf and slung it loosely around his shoulders. One last glance around the apartment and he slid the door closed behind him with a quiet click.

The night air was cool, steady, grounding. His boots carried him down familiar streets toward the precinct, where he knew Naomasa Tsukauchi would still be at his desk. Tsukauchi was one of the few people Shota trusted enough to handle this kind of truth, the kind of man who could look at an impossible situation and not immediately dismiss it.

That didn’t mean this would be simple.

Shota’s thoughts turned over in measured order, a plan forming as they always did. He would explain what he could: the park, the cats, the way objects moved in response to questions. The way a child’s hand had written thank you in crayon when no child should have been there. He would ask Tsukauchi to dig—quietly. No official reports. Just… background checks, missing persons, unexplained disappearances. Anything that might link back to this boy.

And most importantly, he’d make it clear: until proven otherwise, the child was staying with him.

Aizawa’s eyes narrowed against the night. It was reckless, maybe. It wasn’t procedure. But there was no procedure for this. Not for a child no one could see, a child who laughed in an empty apartment and filled it with life in ways neither he nor Hizashi had expected.

His hand tightened around the strap of his capture scarf. By the time the precinct’s lights came into view, his expression was settled, sharp and serious once more.

He had work to do.