Chapter Text
When Aizawa woke up to a phone call way too early in the morning, he already knew his day was ruined. He wasn’t currently involved in any big cases that justified him being woken up after a long graveyard shift, which meant something had happened. So with a heavy sigh he accepted his fate and assumed the worst. He rose out of his bed, still half-asleep, as he reached for his work phone. To his confusion, it wasn’t ringing. It was his personal phone that was ringing.
Shit.
Anyone who had his phone number knew better than to disturb the little rest he got if it wasn’t an emergency – and if there was anything worse than a work emergency, it was a personal emergency. He checked the time, 8:23am. He’d planned to sleep at least until lunch considering his next patrol was this evening. Voice rough with sleep, he made his exhaustion and easy irritation known to the caller. “What.”
“Good morning to you as well, Aizawa. I hope I’m not calling you at a bad time?” Detective Tsukauchi politely replied. He sounded tired, but still managed to push out a hint of amusement at the pro hero’s lack of decorum. And again, Aizawa- not Eraserhead.
“What’s going on?” Aizawa groaned. His head already pulsed with an oncoming headache, though that might just be because of the sleep deprivation. “Straight to the point, huh?” Tsukauchi sighed. “There was an incident; a villain that caused more destruction of property than we were prepared for and… there were casualties.” Aizawa’s blood ran cold. “I am sad to inform you that your step-sister, Inko Midoriya, passed away last night. I’m sorry for your loss.”
Aizawa’s brain buffered for a moment. Inko Midoriya? While he was relieved that it wasn’t anyone close to him, it was almost more shocking to hear that it was a relative of his. He didn’t recognise the last name, but that didn’t really surprise him. The man wasn’t close to his step-sister by any means; they were conceived in different households and only spoke a handful of times in the past. The only thing they had in common was their father.
So hearing about her passing after almost ten years of no contact… he wasn’t sure what to feel. He wasn’t upset exactly, he barely knew the woman, but she was still a family member. Instead of trying to process the news, he focused on the facts.
“Villain attack, huh? Were there any hero casualties?” Aizawa massaged the bridge of his nose. heroes usually managed to keep civilian injuries to a minimum, for someone to lose their life to something like that… It was unavoidable in some instances, but could possibly be career-ending for some heroes.
“No, thankfully. A few major injuries but nothing they won’t recover from.”
“I see.”
It was silent for a moment, and Aizawa was preparing to hang up the phone and ponder this newfound information over a cup of coffee – but Tsukauchi wasn’t done. “I-” the detective sighed once more, the weight of it making Aizawa worry anew. “I didn’t only call you to inform you about her passing,” he spoke softly, a ‘civilian victim’ voice as it’s often referred to. It was almost unsettling to hear it directed at himself. Aizawa frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“She had a son.”
…
It took a moment for the words to sink it. “Shit…” he cursed under his breath. As the weight of the words settled, the ever growing migraine knocking at the edge of his brain got louder. If that woman had changed last name, then that most likely meant marriage. A lot of things can happen in ten years, but a child?
“What’s his name?” Aizawa idly tapped his fingers against his bedside table as he settled down. “Izuku Midoriya, ten years old. The father is no longer in the picture, not that we could get a hold of him in the first place…” Deadbeat, huh? “There’s no grandparents – on either side of the family. He’s currently staying with a family friend of theirs. Aizawa…” The hero didn’t like the direction this was heading. “You’re the closest living relative of the boy.”
…
Shit.
“While I’m not expecting nor asking you to take in a complete stranger, please at least meet the kid. I think you’d like him,” Tsukauchi finished. Aizawa’s head hung heavy on his shoulders. “Tsukauchi- I’m twentyfour and a pro hero. Even if I wanted to take this kid in, I don’t have the time or energy. I can meet him but giving false hope feels more cruel than just saying upright that I can’t adopt him.”
The phone was silent for a moment, before the detective started talking again. It was quieter, and by the tone of his voice Aizawa could tell he had fully given up on approaching this in an unbiased manner.
“Look, I don’t want to push you to do anything you don’t want to. But I at least want to give you the full situation. This child is quirkless, and sending him to the system could cause some serious damage. We’d of course try to make sure he went to a good family, but you can never be sure. If there’s even the slimmest chance of him staying with you, then please meet him.” Aizawa knew- trust him- he knew.
“You really like this kid, huh?”
As someone who grew up in foster care, Aizawa knew just how bad it could get. And while he couldn’t uproot his own life for the sake of some stranger related by blood… knowingly sending someone – a child – to a situation like that… Even if he found a good family who didn’t discriminate, it was always difficult.
And that bastard of a detective knew that.
“How am I supposed to say ‘no’ after that?” Aizawa sighed for the umpteenth time. “Alright- fine- I’ll meet the kid. No promises though.”
“Of course, thank you. Take care of yourself.”
And with that they hung up. The pro hero spent many minutes staring at the phone in his hand. First the news of his step-sister’s passing, then a child. A child with no family except Aizawa.
Teaching a bunch of reckless, rowdy teenagers was one thing – especially when he got paid to do it and got to ensure that some hero-wannabe doesn’t get killed on the job. But taking care of someone's little brat full time? No thank you. Aizawa had enough on his hands. Still, he should at least offer his condolences and hope it didn’t make things worse. Even if the child had most likely never even heard of him.
Looking at the time, he decided he was too high-strung to fall back asleep. So with heavy feet, he made his way to the kitchen to finally prepare his coffee and jelly packets. At least this way he could spend some time with Nemuri and Hizashi before work.
“So what’s got your panties in a twist, huh?”
Aizawa groaned, the remnants of his earlier migraine still aching in his skull. Nemuri sat before him, leaning forward just enough to invade his personal space. The underground hero had spent the last half an hour scowling at nothing in particular. Aizawa might not work during days, but he still sometimes joined them during their lunch. Detective Tsukauchi had sent a time and address not too long ago, cementing the fact that he had to acknowledge this sudden new family. He wasn’t an emotional man, but the situation had managed to get beneath his skin.
“That bad, huh?” The R-Rated hero asked before leaning back. She and Hizashi were Aizawa’s closest friends – basically family at this point – not that he’d ever admit it. If he had to tell anyone about his predicament, it’d be them. “It’s complicated. And it’s private,” he scowled at Nemuri, who simply smiled wider. “I love complicated and private!” She crossed her legs as she once again leaned forward.
Damn gossip.
“I know you do…” the man grumbled, before taking a sip of his cold coffee. This didn’t deter Nemuri in the slightest as she blinked expectantly at him. Before he knew it, Hizashi was also curious about his friend’s sour mood. He sighed, knowing nothing could abolish their curiosity when it came to drama – especially Aizawa’s drama. On a day where he’d slept more and had less on his mind, he would’ve had the energy to fight back. But today he simply didn’t have it in him, and to be honest he also wanted someone else’s input, so he shared the situation he was in.
They reacted as expected, showing sympathy for his and the child’s loss. Aizawa made sure to steer the sympathy towards the kid rather than himself, considering he barely knew the woman.
“I’m supposed to meet the kid on Saturday, but I doubt much will come of it. Even if I had the time or money to adopt a child, I’m not exactly guardian material,” he stared at nothing in particular, his arms crossed. A sudden ‘snrk’ brought him back to the present, both him and Nemuri turning to see what Hizashi had found so funny.
“Ahem- sorry- it’s just-” he quickly got a hold of himself before offering a genuine smile, “I think you’d be a rad uncle.” Aizawa huffed – but to his surprise, Nemuri agreed. “If you spend even a fraction of the energy and patience you have with your cats on that child then he’ll be just fine!” She chuckled, waving her hand around. “Wh- this is a human child we’re talking about, not a pet!”
“Of course, but we could help you take turns babysitting the little guy! You wouldn’t be on your own, you know! And they said that moving him into the foster system could be really hit or miss, right?”
Aizawa’s frown deepend. Manipulative bastards. “Yes, while that is true, it cannot force me to think irationally. It’s a flawed system and we all know it – that is true for all cases, not just this one. That does not mean I’m suddenly capable of adopting him.” Aizawa stood up from his seat. “Now, if you’ll excuse me… I got some sleep to catch up on. Do not-” he flashed his eyes towards them. They glowed golden with the promise of punishment. “-Share this information or assume I’ll adopt him. I’m just going to meet him and then this will be over. Got it?”
The duo timidly nodded. Dramatic fools. Their encouragement did little to change his mind. Seeing them get attached to a child they would most likely never meet was… bittersweet. He was sure that those two would become great parents one day, just not to a child Aizawa was fostering.
If anyone claimed to see the underground hero’s mouth tug ever so slightly upwards in what could potentially be seen as a smile as he left the cafe, then they’re a liar.
-
The days rolled on way too quickly for Aizawa’s liking, and before he knew it, it was Saturday.
The address he’d been given belonged to the Bakugo family, where the boy had apparently stayed for the past week. The family were supposedly close to the Midoriyas, which gave Aizawa hope that the boy might want to stay with them instead of going into the system. It’d be a million times easier, and he’d be living with people he already knew and trusted. Still, they had to discuss their options.
The man felt oddly nervous as he pulled up in the driveway. It was a nice home; stereotypical middle-class suburban home. The family were well off according to Tsukauchi, which definitely helped if they wished to keep the child. The detective’s car was already parked further up the street, so Aizawa wasted no time walking up to the front door.
He’d decided to dress casually; a pair of dark jeans and a black turtleneck. Nothing too fancy, but proper enough to greet a grieving family. So with a heavy sigh – he seemed to be sighing a lot these days – he rang the doorbell.
A blonde woman with spikey, short hair opened the door. She wore a tired, polite smile. “You must be Aizawa, right? I’ve heard a lot about you.” She stepped to the side to let the man in. “I’m sorry for your loss, Mrs Bakugo,” he held his head low. The woman exhaled, a weak attempt at a tired laugh. “It’s… it’s been hard but we’re getting by. Izuku is in the living room with Mister Tsukauchi, my husband is currently at work and Katsuki is at school- so we can talk in private.”
Aizawa silently followed her, idly looking at the family pictures scattered around. That Katsuki didn’t seem to be a particularly cheerful child…
The living room was as neatly decorated as the rest of the house. On the couch sat Tsukauchi, and beside him… crap. Having heard of the boy was one thing, seeing him with your own eyes was another. As the detective noticed Aizawa’s presence, he quietly said a few words to the boy before standing to greet him. “Thank you for coming.” They moved a few paces away so the kid wouldn’t hear them. “How’s he holding up?” Aizawa asked, never a man for small talk. “He’s quiet, but it’s clear that this is taking a massive toll on him. Though that’s to be expected,” Tsukauchi sighed. The pro hero hummed in response.
Turning back to the living room, Aizawa looked at the child for the first time. His nephew.
He looked like a carbon copy of his mother; the same green locks and emerald eyes. His skin was covered in freckles, and he was rather small for his age. He was staring at the rug in front of him, his hands casually laying in his lap. Intense purple eyebags hung below his large glassy eyes. From what Aizawa could tell, he – Izuku – wasn’t reacting to their presence at all. He recognised that look; the look of someone who’s dissociating.
Aizawa couldn’t stop the slight ache in his chest. It hit so close to home, way too close for comfort. Flashes of his own rocky recovery from Oboro’s death forced his eyes closed. And this boy was even younger than he was. He quickly shoved it all away. It had been many years since he died, and he had more important things to pay attention to at the moment.
Was he really ten years old? He was so small that Aizawa would have guessed he was even younger.
“Hey, Izuku?” Tsukauchi kneeled down beside the boy, using the softest voice he could muster. “Can you hear me, buddy?” He reached out and ever-so gently placed his hand on the kid’s arm. Izuku flinched, then blinked several times. His eyes grew to a worrying size before finally noticing the people in the room.
Aizawa and Izuku stared at each other for several moments before Mrs Bakugo decided to spare them the intense silence. “Zuku, this is Aizawa Shouta, your uncle. Remember how I told you about him a few days ago?” She smiled.
The child opened and closed their mouth a few times before simply nodding timidly. “Would you like to introduce yourself?” She pushed. Izuku grimaced as he opened and closed his mouth a few more times. Aizawa decided to jump in, “I can introduce myself first, if you’d like?” Tsukauchi stepped aside, letting Aizawa take his place. When he got closer, he noticed the way the kid’s eyes scanned him, seemingly deep in thought.
“As Mrs Bakugo said, my name is Aizawa Shouta. I was your mother’s step-brother. I’m… I’m sorry about what happened to her.” He tried to not scowl as much as he usually did, and spoke softly. He knew he was off-putting; he actually preferred it that way, but it did become impractical in moments like these.
The kid continued to stare for a while longer, his eyes carrying a sense of intelligence that unfortunately reminded him of his sadistic, rodent boss. A moment later, his face lit up in realization. The change between barely reacting and excitement was so drastic that it was almost jarring. In his shock, Aizawa barely registered the small “Eraserhead…” that came from the child’s lips. The other adults in the room however barely managed to stifle a laugh.
“Yeah, he is Eraserhead. How’d you figure it out?” Tsukauchi asked. The boy shut his mouth so quickly Aizawa could hear his teeth clatter. His bright eyes promptly looked away, seemingly ashamed of his earlier eagerness. “Oh… uhm.. w-well…” his voice was quiet and uncertain, “I saw you once… after a f-fight. Y-you were really cool so… I researched you and- I saw a few clips online…” he wrung his hands. His posture and expression implied he was waiting for something bad to happen. As if just speaking the truth could get him punished.
Why was he so scared?
“That’s impressive. Since I’m an underground hero, there shouldn't be any proof of me anywhere, at least not available for the public… just finding my hero name must’ve been hard, huh?” Aizawa was definitely going to need to ask Nezu to comb through the internet and get rid of said clips.
“Y-yeah… there was this discussion between a few people who’d seen you in action!” The boy’s face lit up again as he began to ramble. “T-they talked about your fighting style and how good you were with victims and- and-” he shook his hands. Izuku still looked timid, but it was nice to see him excited about something. Even if that something was Aizawa himself. “Izuku,” Mrs Bakugo interrupted. Her voice was stern, but not necessarily unkind. It still carried the same weight as if she was scolding him, however. The boy immediately froze and slowly put his hands back in his lap. “Sorry…” His eyes locked onto the carpet once more.
Aizawa’s eye twitched. “No, it’s alright,” he waved his hand. The woman looked slightly surprised, but stayed silent. “I don’t mind talking about heroes with you.” Izuku’s eyes lit up like this was the best thing to ever happen to him. He stumbled over his words before finally settling on a train of thought, immediately asking questions about his equipment and missions. It wasn’t unusual for a child to look up to heroes, but Aizawa could tell that his interest went beyond the point of simple awe. If nothing else than maybe Aizawa could help him train if he wanted to become a hero himself one day.
Izuku had clearly done his homework. He’d done more research than most wannabe hero teens – even if it was noticeably only middle school level, it was still thorough. His eyes sparkled through the entire ramble, like just talking about heroes was incredible. Usually info dumps like this would make him uncomfortable, especially from a child, but Izuku somehow managed to ask his questions in a way that made Aizawa happy to answer. Aizawa would never in his life consider being a teacher, but this was… decently fun.
This... wasn't the worst, actually. All in all, Aizawa liked the kid a lot more than he anticipated he would. Adoption still wasn’t what he wanted, but if the kid wanted him in his life in some form then he wouldn’t argue against it. Even if he himself failed in several social aspects, Nemuri and Hizashi could most likely help fill the gaps. The slightest of smile tugged at his lips at the thought, such a sweet kid spending time with his two favourite people on earth. They'd get along well, he thinks.
As the hero idly answered question after question, the other adults spent some time talking about work. It was a little awkward, having this young – his nephew – be so interested in him personally, but it was nice to see the boy smile- even if it was dampened by exhaustion.
After half an hour or so, Tsukauchi spoke up, “as lovely as this is, we still need to go over who's going to have custody.” He looked apologetic for disrupting the moment. Aizawa nodded, not missing the way the boy’s face immediately fell. “Just give us a moment, alright kid?”
Izuku nodded, visibly biting his lip to keep quiet. Somehow this child – that Aizawa had only known for an hour or so – was managing to pull at every single one of his heart strings. Which was highly illogical, considering he usually wasn’t a fan of kids. But he supposed that Izuku reminded him of Nemuri and Hizashi back when they were teens in a way.
Mrs Bakugo fetched a chair to sit down on so Aizawa could sit on the matching armchair. As everyone settled with a cup of tea in their hands – in an attempt to make this feel ‘casual’ for the child, though Aizawa doubted it did much to help – the detective pulled out a file of papers.
“Alright… so, first things first, Mrs Bakugo has already asked to be in charge of the funeral service. Any complaints?” The man looked at Aizawa. He shook his head, “No, she knew Inko better than I did.”
“Thank you,” the woman’s eyes were slightly misty, and she held a hand close to her heart. Aizawa gave her a nod. “Everything surrounding her will and her possessions will be handled after the funeral, so the biggest issue right now is who will receive custody over Izuku. We could go to court, but handling this civilly would be for the best – for all of our sakes. Mrs Bakugo is a close family friend, and has the resources to take care of another child. But we cannot gloss over the fact that he still has a living family member; Mr Aizawa. Unless he actively gives up the right for guardianship over Izuku, then the boy will land in his hands.”
Aizawa hummed, “I am a busy man, and admit that Mrs Bakugo is clearly more prepared to take in a child. I am not planning on stealing him from you if he wants to stay here.” It didn’t feel good to be talking as if Izuku wasn’t there, but Aizawa supposed it was better than leaving him out of the discussion entirely. Glancing over at the boy, Aizawa noticed something. He looked sad, of course, but there was something else. A tension to his shoulders and a wobble to his underlip that wasn’t there before. He looked deep in thought, and whatever it was he was thinking about was visibly upsetting him. It could be grief, but Aizawa’s gut told him it was something else. He had no evidence of anything being amiss, but to be safe…
“Izuku.” The boy’s head perked up, his large eyes immediately staring at Aizawa. “Your opinion is important as well. If you’d rather live with someone over the other, you’re free to say so. This is probably pretty overwhelming, but try to follow your heart.”
Izuku nodded, but didn’t say anything. “You don’t have to decide anything now, but we would appreciate your input. We’ll have to place you somewhere soon, and we want you to live comfortably,” the detective added, aiming a tired smile his way. The boy nodded again. Aizawa didn’t expect to be picked, but he at least wanted to let the kid know it was alright to favour one option over the other. Feeling like you were betraying one person by picking the other is difficult, especially when you’re so young.
“Um…” his small voice spoke up, causing everyone in the room to stop. “I think… I think I’d like to get to know Mr Aizawa some more… i-if that’s okay…” he hesitantly looked up. The look in his eye caused the pro hero’s stone-cold heart to twinge. This was such a timid and sad child… It wasn’t a huge secret, but despite not being a huge fan, he didn’t actually hate kids like many people assumed.
“Of course,” he reassured, causing a wobbly smile to drag at the child’s lips. Mrs Bakugo huffed affectionately. Detective Tsukauchi stood up from his seat, “how about this… Izuku can spend some time with Aizawa, then we’ll pick this up at a later date. Does that seem reasonable?” Aizawa and Bakugo shared a look, “if that is what he wants, then of course,” she smiled. Mrs Bakugo turned to Izuku, “how does that sound? Would you like to visit uncle Aizawa?” Silently, the boy nodded.
It was… not the best. He’d assumed that he’d wanted to stay with the Bakugos and it’d been resolved swiftly, but something just feels wrong. And curse his heart, but if Izuku needs someone else to spend time with then he’d have to provide. Perhaps he’d notice that being relatives with a pro hero wasn’t as cool as he’d imagined and then go back to the family he grew up with. Either way, it couldn’t hurt to let him come over.
“You two can work out the schedule then, contact me when you’ve reached a decision. I’ll see myself out. If anyone has any other questions or needs to talk to me, you both have my number. Have a good evening,” he bowed slightly before leaving.
Aizawa perked up. “Oh, I should probably give you my number as well. My phone is often turned off for work but I respond as soon as I can,” he wrote down his private number on a piece of paper and handed it to Mrs Bakugo.
“Would tomorrow be alright for you?” She asked. He was actually supposed to patrol on Sunday, but felt this was worth sacrificing one of his sick days for. “Tomorrow’s fine.”
Unsurprisingly, tomorrow come it did not feel fine. Aizawa hadn’t had anyone except Hizashi or Nemuri over in… years. The guest rooms were very much tailored to the guests usually inhabiting them, which meant that Hizashi had his merch all over the place and Nemuri had left her clothes in a pile by the door. He’d gone to the store to buy real ingredients since he had next to nothing in his fridge. His kitchen hadn’t been properly used in ages since Aizawa never had time or the energy to prepare proper meals. All in all, it just made it so painfully clear he was not prepared to take in a child. Aizawa would never call himself a slob, he was just really busy. Hell, he hadn’t even asked if the kid was allergic to cats. Not that the bastards would show their faces when strangers are around but there’s still fur all over the place.
And what do you even do with kids? He’d show Izuku around the apartment, maybe talk about his job, talk about the situation. Aizawa never really hung out with people his age during school, much less ten year old kids. What did he do when he was ten? God knows. He had some movies he could show. Fuck, Aizawa would make a terrible parent. Just goes to show how unqualified he is. Doesn’t matter now, Mrs Bakugo will show up any minute with the boy.
Right on que, a few minutes later the doorbell to his apartment rang. He’d given her the apartment’s building code so she could come in on her own. Aizawa usually wouldn’t be so lax with his security but he felt that the woman was an extension of his own family in a way. Hell, after just one meeting he already knew more about her than his actual sister.
Izuku came in beside her, holding her hand as she greeted him in the doorway. “Mrs Bakugo, would you like a cup of coffee?” He offered, feeling lost on what you’re supposed to do in this situation. It felt more like babysitting than meeting a potential ward. “That would be nice, and please, call me Mitsuki. Inko was like family to me, and- I know- I know you two weren’t close but It’d make me happy. Sorry, I guess I’m still in… shock, or something.” Her voice got unsteady as she spoke, and by the end she had to discretely wipe a tear. Grief was never pretty, but it did have a way of bringing people together.
Leading them to the kitchen, he poured her a cup from the pot he’d prepared earlier. She wept silently, and Aizawa let her. “Would you… like to talk about her?” He offered. He wasn’t that curious in all honesty, but it felt better to know something. Mitsuki smiled. “She was such a wonder woman,” she began. “So kind, so funny.”
He noticed how Izuku stared at the glass of milk in front of him, seemingly lost in his own thoughts again. Not the healthiest, but he wouldn’t mention it for now. “We’ve been neighbors since… well, since before Izuku or Katsuki. Even before Hisashi,” her smile faltered. “Even when times were tough, she did her best to help us smile through it…”
Aizawa nodded along and tried to build a character profile of her in his head. The few times they’d met she’d always been quiet and drawn-back, but those were different circumstances and many years ago. Aizawa was also the decade younger step sibling she never wanted, so he couldn’t blame her. Mitsuki continued to tell short stories about Inko, either ending with her giggling up a storm or crying again. It was awkward since they were basically strangers, but also a bonding experience. Now, at least, he wouldn’t be attending her funeral as a complete stranger.
A while later she decided it was about time she left, she’d come back to pick Izuku up tonight so for the moment it was just the two of them. Izuku hadn’t had much to say during their conversation, which wasn’t unusual. Aizawa couldn’t tell if it was best to try and distract him or talk him through it, either way he’d most likely do a bad job. His experience laid in life or death situations and mostly nothing else.
Suddenly, soft sniffles and sobs came from the boy beside him. He really did have large eyes. He wasn’t allergic, was he?
Aizawa sighed sympathetically, but Izuku instead flinched and did his best to shut up. That’s… not a normal response. “It’s alright to cry, you know? Mitsuki cried, and there was nothing wrong with that. It’s how the human body deals with big emotions.”
After a bit of sniffling and a hiccup he managed to respond, “e-everyone says I cry too much… That I’m a big baby and that I should have grown up by now…”
“Kid, you’re ten.”
Izuku remained quiet.
Crap. Had he said something wrong? Nemuri and Hizashi were leagues better as socialising than he was, especially with kids, they'd probably know how to make this better. Just... remaind calm and inviting, this won't get better overnight no matter what he does. “Do you want to talk about it or do you want to do something else?” Aizawa tried, still unsure of what activity he could offer. Still no answer.
They sat there for a few minutes, and Aizawa was about to get up and put on a movie when Izuku finally spoke up. He barely heard him at first, with how quietly he mumbled the question, but it still made his chest ache.
“Are you hanging out with me out of pity?”
“What?” Aizawa was so put off by the question that he wasn’t sure what to say at first.
“It’s- it’s okay if you are… I know a lot of adults spend time with me out of obligation… if- if you want me to go back then- then I will…”
“Wh- no, I agreed to you spending time here so you could get a feel for what I’m like. Do you want to go home?”
“No…”
…
“You’re my nephew, custody or not, you’re always going to be welcome here.” Aizawa hadn’t really thought that through, but he didn’t think he’d regret saying it. “If you want to spend the entire day in silence without doing anything, then I’ll respect that. Grief makes it difficult to think clearly, so if you just want time to process it all in peace then we can do that.”
Izuku remained silent.
Maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say…
“I… I want to know more about you. Mama never told me about you and… I want to know why. Though I- I probably shouldn’t ask too many questions… it’s annoying, right?”
“Not at all. Ask away, we’ve got all day after all.”
Izuku smiled.
They did spend a lot of time just going back and forth with trivia about each other. Surprisingly it never got boring – a little awkward at times, sure, but he wasn't exactly used to talking with kids. Izuku was just so polite and passionate that everything he said felt easy to respond to, or maybe that was just familial compassion that finally decided to return after fifteen years. Aizawa got a feeling that Inko wasn’t the amazing mother that Mitsuki saw her as, but if he’d judge every non-perfect parent in the world then there’d barely be any left to appreciate. Besides, it didn’t matter anymore.
As tensions calmed down and a fragile air of positivity covered them, Aizawa finally decided to just put on some kid’s movie and let him calm down. He had a feeling that the past week had been just constant thinking about it, so it was good to see Izuku so distracted. He even popped popcorn.
The rest of the evening passed without incident. A few silent tears here and there, but nothing major. They whipped up dinner together, talked about hero stuff, and- by every definition of the word- bonded. He thinks. By the time Mitsuki came back to pick him up, they’d almost lost track of the time. The doorbell rang and Izuku almost jumped from his seat. She looked a little worried when he opened the door, but quickly relaxed again when she saw the boy’s face.
Izuku ran up to the door, greeting Mitsuki. The two adults shared a look, both relieved to see the boy so much happier than when he’d arrived. “Hey, Zuku,” she leaned down. “Did you have fun?”
“Yeah!”
“I’m glad,” she smiled genuinely.
Before leaving, Izuku turned around to face Aizawa one last time. “Uhm, Mr Aizawa! Are you- um…” he looked away. “Are you going to the f-funeral..? Will I see you again?” There was a strange, innocent hope filling his eyes. For every case of “puppy-eyes” this kid flashed him, Aizawa felt the cold, hard exterior of his heart crack ever so slightly.
“If you want me there, then I’ll show up,” he crouched down, gently ruffling the kid’s hair. It was minuscule, maybe even a trick of the eye, but Aizawa swore he could see the kid flinch for a second when he reached his hand out. Izuku smiled while nodding. “Okay, then I’ll be there. Take care of yourself, okay?”
“Okay!”
Monday morning Aizawa vaguely shared his weekend with his embarrassingly nosy co-workers, who promptly insisted he fight for custody.
“He sounds like an awesome kid! Between the three of us, how hard could it be? I mean, he’s almost a tween, not a baby!” Nemuri gushed.
He shrugged them off, but it stuck with him. Between the three of them, maybe they could take custody. Aizawa patrolled mainly at night, while Nemuri and Hizashi patrolled mostly during the day – technically, with the three of them, it could work. He then started thinking about things he’d never considered before. Like if his habits were appropriate for caring for a child, or if what he consumed on a daily basis would be enough for a growing boy. It felt silly, but also nice in a weird way. He had his cats, and he’d had the same sort of thoughts when adopting them.
Would the cats mind another person in the apartment? He had the space for a kid, Nemuri and Hizashi could share the other guest bedroom whenever they stayed over. He could easily throw them out onto the couch as well. God knows they could use the humbling.
…
Oh no.
Aizawa froze mid-brushing his teeth, as the realization slowly sunk in. He’d gotten attached. After two days. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Aizawa had to reel himself in. Even if he technically had the time, he still spent most of his free-time sleeping or doing more work. He didn’t have time for a kid. He was simply planning ahead for the worst case scenario.
Aizawa was a logical man, and the logical decision would be giving custody to the Bakugos. They were easily the better choice when compared to the sleep-deprived, workaholic, underground hero that was Aizawa Shouta.
But the suspicion that there was something unhealthy about that family kept bugging the back of his mind, and the possibility that Izuku might want to live with him. He, himself said that he had a choice in the matter, he couldn’t just go back on his word.
For now, Aizawa just had to prepare himself for the upcoming funeral, and then his life would go back to normal. With him, his cats, and his work.
Aizawa had gotten the days off of work for the funeral, which meant he’d gotten a solid six hours of sleep (a record) before he got ready for the day. The service started at two pm, which left him with plenty of time to scrap together a somewhat formal look. He shaved his stubble, took a shower, and ironed his black suit. He hadn’t been to a ‘nice’ social event in a hot minute, he was a little torn on how fancy he should look. He decided that putting up his hair was a nice touch, making him look slightly more like a put-together adult. He drank coffee, ate a proper breakfast (for once), and got some work done before heading out.
It wasn’t too far away. A cemetery he recognised as the place Inko’s mother was buried. He remembered attending it, despite knowing next to nothing about that side of the family. It was nostalgic in a tragic sense.
The Bakugos were already there – he recognised their car – but not many others. He didn’t even know how many were invited. Izuku’s eyes lit up when he saw Aizawa. “Mr Aizawa!” He looked like he wanted to run up to him but stayed by the side of, who he assumed was, Mr Bakugo. Aizawa recognised him from the photos in their home. The soft, brunette man offered his hand. “Hello! I’m sorry we couldn’t meet when you came over, but it’s a pleasure to meet you now.” They shook hands. “The pleasure is all mine. I’m sorry for your loss, Mr Bakugo.”
“I didn’t know her that well, truthfully. I’m happy I got an invitation at all considering the last time we spoke was almost ten years ago.”
“Oh. A shame, honestly. She was a wonderful woman,” the mans eyes became glossy, but he wiped them before any tears had the opportunity to fall. They continued to chat until a few others arrived. As friends and family came together to grieve, Aizawa sort of walked off into the background. He didn’t know any of these people, and he had nothing to contribute to the conversation.
The service was nice. A few stepped up and told loving stories about the woman, and the funeral director was great at her job. Several people asked him about his relationship to Inko, and he told the truth every time.
After the service, he sat down on one of the plastic chairs, idly drinking the actually decent coffee they served, and listening to stray bits of information about his deceased sister. Suddenly, a slight tapping on his arm stole his attention. “Izuku,” he greeted. “How are you holding up?” He put the cup down, turning his full attention to the child next to him. His eyes were watery, and he looked utterly exhausted.
“I wanna go home… I want- I want mommy…” he cried, and if that didn’t break Aizawa’s heart then nothing would. “Oh kid…”
After a moment of hesitation, he reached out and put a hand on the back of Izuku's shoulder. The boy trembled as he slowly, slowly leaned in. His head burrowed hesitantly into his chest, and the pro hero pulled him in into a awkward half-hug.
Aizawa wasn’t much for physical touch, and he struggled a lot with social interactions, but he could try to put all of that aside for the moment. He slowly rubbed circles into the boy’s back, hoping it came off more soothing than suffocating. He really didn’t know what he was doing. But apparently it helped, because a few minutes later the sobs quieted down and Izuku stopped clenching his suit. Aizawa almost thought the kid had fallen asleep if it wasn’t for the barely audible mumbling directed into his chest.
“Izuku?” he whispered. The boy flinched slightly, he did that a lot. “You okay?” It took him a moment to respond, and unsurprisingly, the boy shook his head. “That’s alright. Nobody expects you to be okay right now. It’ll take time to heal, but it gets better. I promise.”
The boy pulled away to wipe his eyes. “I w-wish you would take care, Mister Aizawa… you’re nice- and cool- and- and I’m sorry for being so selfish because I know- I know you’re busy with more important stuff than- than some quirkless kid and I’d only be an inconvenience… but- sniff- I wanted to t-thank you. F-for being so kind to me.” He clenched his shirt, tears dropping onto the ground.
Aizawa frowned. He expected Izuku to be depressed, but calling himself an inconvenience felt… wrong. Obviously incorrect self deprecating talk aside, it came too easily to him for it to just be a side effect of his grief. Aizawa didn’t like it in the slightest. “You’re not selfish and you’re not an inconvenience. Izuku, look at me.”
Hesitantly, he raised his wet face. “You’re allowed to visit whenever you want… maybe we could arrange split custody? You could stay with me during weekends or something,” he tried to smile. It was a compromise he could live with, especially if Hizashi and Nemuri picked up some slack and worked in shifts. “How does that sound?”
Izuku but his lip, clearly thinking. He didn’t look very comforted. “Is… is there a reason you want to stay with me? Or rather, is there a reason you don’t want to stay with the Bakugos?”
Another flinch.
Goddamnit.
“I mean- aunty and uncle are nice… I just… I don’t think… Kacchan would want me there…”
It took Aizawa a moment to connect ‘Kacchan’ to the youngest Bakugo, Katsuki. “How so?”
Izuku cringed, almost curling in on himself. “He… he doesn’t like me that much… because I’m- you know- quirkless… a-anyway it’s- it’s okay because I’m used to it! He’s not that mean anyway he just- he’s just playing around. It’s fine.”
I’m used to it.
It was very clearly not fine, but Aizawa wouldn’t point it out. Any kid who looked that scared of another kid is obviously being bullied to some degree, and sending a child who is being bullied because of his quirk status to live with his aggressor… Aizawa couldn’t stand the thought of it. The Bakugos seemed nice, but he hadn’t met the kid yet. He put his hand on Izuku’s shoulder. “You shouldn’t have to live with people who make you upset.”
For a moment, his green eyes glimmered with hope. “Does… does that mean…?”
His voice was so pitifully small and hopeful. Aizawa had to think for a moment. The kid wanted to live with him. God knows why, but this clearly self-conscious and traumatised child preferred to live with an almost complete stranger rather than a family he’s known for his entire life. He wouldn’t push for details right now. All he knew now was that this kid needed saving.
And how would he be able to call himself a hero unless he stepped up?
Aizawa hummed. They stayed silent for a few moments more before the man asked:
“How do you feel about cats?”