Chapter Text
there was a hole in his chest.
it was a dark, gaping void of nothing, of loss. some days, it hurts. it hurts until he can’t breathe, until he chokes, until he cries and begs and prays for it to stop hurting please make it stop hurting so much -
other days, he doesn’t feel a thing. numbness creeps into his veins, swallowing all the hurt that encompasses him until nothing is left, until he is robbed of his soul and he learns what death might taste like.
losing himself felt strange. the world dulled to gray, fuzzy and a blur. time didn’t make sense. sometimes, he’d blink and the day would have ended. other times, it dragged on and on, forcing him to live every second in the world his dad no longer exists in.
it aches when he stands at the edge of the roof because it reminds him that the person who plucked him off of the streets and gave him a home was no longer there.
"you're grounded."
"what?? you can’t do that!” izuku cried in disbelief, head whipping around to face the tired hero who had his hands on his hip and was glaring at him with what izuku had deemed as shouta’s ‘disappointed dad glare’.
“what you did was incredibly reckless, izuku,” shouta went on, pinching the bridge of his nose with an agitated sigh. izuku felt like a kid getting scolded by his parent. “you’re grounded. for 2 weeks. no patrol.”
“wh- huh?? but you can’t ground me! you’re not my dad!” he protested but hus eyes grew wide when he realized what he just said. izuku instantly regretted his words as he watched a flash of hurt cross the hero’s face before a mask of defiance settled on his expression.
“well, i’m adopting you,” he deadpanned, serious.
“you- what ,” the vigilante sputtered. he was getting whiplash at the rate this conversation was going.
“i’m adopting you,” he repeated, just as serious. “so, now you’re grounded.”
“i- wh- THAT’S NOT HOW THAT WORKS.”
it burns when he stays at home because the house is too big, too empty, too quiet without another presence to fill its space.
because it stopped feeling like home.
“alright, why are you crying over a mug, problem child,?” shouta questioned gently, his voice exasperated but unbearably fond as he held his sniffling son in a comforting embrace.
“because its the same as yours,” izuku hiccuped into his dad’s sweatshirt.
“i bought it at the same store?” shouta replied, very clearly confused about the whole situation.
he had come home to his son, having leave UA separately because of a late meeting. he had stopped by the quaint little antique store on the way when something caught his eye, presenting his find first thing as a gift for izuku. just because, no reason in particular.
the mug matched his own favourite one. instead of a black cat lounging on the rim, the one he bought for izuku had a little kitten hanging of off the handle.
izuku had promptly burst into tears after saying ‘its a kitten for the cat on your mug’.
“its for me? mine?” izuku sniffed, pulling back from his dad’s chest for wet green eyes to meet dark ones.
“it is,” shouta agreed easily, fretfully petting his kid, pushing back unruly green curls out of his eyes.
“i have my own slippers too,” he continued, gesturing to the house slippers with cartoon bunnies on his feet.
“you do.”
“i’m wearing your sweater. you let me keep it. when we adopted biscuit, you said he was my cat. you- you put my test papers on the fridge. i have my own house key, my own room -“
“of course, you do, kid. you’re not just a kid that happens to exist in my home,” shouta says, eyes soft as he started to understand what this was all about. “you’re my kid. this is your home too. it’s our home.”
“our home,” izuku breathed out with awe, as if only just processing that this real. that he finally had a home.
“yeah, zu. you’re home.”
it stings when he stays in bed because his dad was no longer around to attack him with tickles and lug him out like a sack of potatoes when he thinks izuku was not getting enough sun.
“there,” shouta deadpanned as he unceremoniously dumped his kid onto the living room couch, having successfully extracted izuku from his 5 hour study grind in his room that has been ongoing for the past 3 days. he barely managed to pry his kid away from the books to make sure he was fed and watered and that just won’t do. “go touch grass. get some fresh air and sunlight and whatever else growing children need.”
“for what- photosynthesis ?” izuku snorted, not bothering to right himself from where he was deposited upside down on the couch. his brain felt like mush.
“sure, that too,” shouta said distractedly, tossing a bottle of sunscreen at izuku. “put that on. you’ve been holed up in your room for so long you might shrivel up the moment you step outside. like a raisin.”
“dad.”
“get out. go for a walk. or whatever you want really. don’t come back until at least 30, 40 minutes.”
“dad.”
“take your bottle with you and don’t forget to actually drink it-
“ dad .” shouta finally looked up to his son who was sitting up on the couch, an amused smile stretched on his face despite the eyebags and evident exhaustion he had drove himself into.
“come with me?” he asked with a tone usually paired together with puppy eyes, his tiredness making him look exceptionally pathetic. shouta felt himself soften.
“sure, kid.
it throbs when he sits alone because his dad wasn’t there to quietly sidle up to him and gently ask what’s wrong.
“you okay, kid?”
the floodgates just burst open the moment he heard his dad’s gentle prodding.
he didn’t move from his curled up position on the couch, not even lifting his head from where he has them burried in his folded arms on his knees. he barely heard his dad make a startled sound of distress between his sobs before he squeaking in surprise at being hoisted up and dumped into his dad’s lap.
he curled into his dad’s embrace, hiding away in the man’s chest while he broke, as though to hide from the world in only place he truly, wholly felt safe.
because he was with his dad. because it was shouta.
“you wanna talk about it, zu?” his dad asked softly, one hand still rubbing soothing circles on his back as his cries tapered of to sniffles and hiccups. he shook his head no, throat still too tight to say anything without him breaking down into tears again. his dad only held him tighter, closer, grounding him in his hold.
“okay. that’s okay, love. it’s okay. dad’s here, you’re okay.”
and it was okay.
he knew as long as his dad was there, everything would be okay.
izuku closed his eyes and took a shuddery breath, tipping his head back to feel the cool night’s air in his face where he sits on the roof. the hole in his chest howls in longing.
he just misses his dad.
he wants shouta back.
izuku opens his eyes at the sound of footsteps approaching, tired green eyes meeting his guardian’s kind ones. hizashi said nothing, only offering his a kind, understanding smile as he took a seat next to him.
they sat in somber silence, looking out into the distance before izuku spoke up, his voice quiet.
“will it ever get better? hurt less?” he asked, somewhat knowing the answer, knowing nothing his guardian would say was what he wanted to hear.
hizashi smiled something strained, hand coming to rub his chest, his own hole in his heart. “it doesn’t. not really. but you learn to exist with it. live with the hurt.”
live with the hurt.
live without his dad.
live?
in a world without shouta?
with this hole in his chest that only ever seemed to grow and grow and grow?
it didn’t seem possible. like it wasn’t real. yet, here he was. and what choice does he have?
“that sucks,” his voice breaks and his eyes sting with the tears he thought he’d run out of by now.
“it does.”
the hole in their chest hurt. but it hurt a little less together.