Chapter Text
Izuku Midoriya had a complicated relationship with medical personnel. It was a doctor that put a stop to his dream at the age of four, no matter how kindly he tried to break the news. It was the school nurse who refused to treat his cuts and burns because they weren’t that bad. It was the ER staff that refused to treat his broken arm because they didn’t have the resources to treat a quirkless body.
However.
Inko herself is a surgeon, one too skilled to fire over a child they prefer she not talk about. She was a doctor who tried her best to help him with his injuries that his school refused to acknowledge. Inko made sure she showed him how to care for his own injuries when she’s not home. She knew he looked up to her and found the underground clinics amazing.
Those clinics are dedicated to helping those who fall through the cracks. The very same people who showed Inko and her son kindness and support. They were maybe not the most legal, but they’re able to scrape by through technicalities in the law.
So Yeah, her son had a complicated relationship with people in medicine, or perhaps just people in general.
Inko Midoriya was one of the rare, licensed, surgeons to volunteer at these clinics. At times she would take her son with her. Sometimes to be treated, and sometimes to learn. He wasn’t taught anything major; he was only eleven when she brought him in to learn for the first time. Both she, and the other clinic volunteers, wanted him to still be a child and have normal childhood experiences.
Inko knew children shouldn’t have to know how to treat second degree burns, they shouldn’t know how to sterilize needles for stitches, and they definitely shouldn’t know how to temporarily immobilize their arm until they could get real help. Her baby did. That was as far as she was willing to go in his medical education… at least for now.
As much as it pained her, Inko couldn’t protect Izuku. It was her greatest failure as a mother, the one she regretted the most. Multiple times she had marched up to Aldera in righteous fury and demanded something be done, for something anything to change. She spat out facts about the law, begged and pleaded them to see her son as the fellow human he was, and refused through gritted teeth to punish him for ‘stepping out of his place’. They just casually tossed her aside, waved her away knowing no lawyer would support her (she’d checked).
Inko also knew that her beloved baby was a liar. Nothing malicious, he never lied about anything he had broken. He admitted when he had eaten a cookie when she said he couldn’t and had told her sheepishly that he stayed up past his bedtime to watch All Might cartoons. Inko wasn’t dumb however, and she had eyes.
The starburst burns that she had taught him how to treat had a suspiciously tiny handprint in the middle. She had obviously asked about it, already having an idea of what was happening.
Her beautiful, kind, son smiled wide at her “don’t worry mommy it was just an accident! Kaachan is still learning like all of my other classmates.”
At first she believed him, it made sense and he had never lied to her before. She stopped believing him after two years went by. She kept in touch with Mitsuki, her best friend, about Katsuki’s progress. According to Mitsuki it had only taken him a year to get relatively good control over his quirk. Apparently, he only had accidents when he got angry or frustrated.
Inko loved Mitsuki, but she didn’t hold out hope for Katsuki to be able to handle his anger enough to fully control his quirk. He was too much like his mother.
Izuku’s first year of middle school was rough for both him and her. Almost every day he came home with an assortment of injuries, burnt handprints usually amongst them. As the school year went on, the injuries got more and more severe. She was exasperated when she realized her son thought he could hide his injuries from her.
Inko made sure Izuku learned more first aid and became more distant with Mitsuki with every phone call. Each conversation being the same variation of each other. Small talk about work, the latest gossip they’ve heard, discussing the latest episode of the trashy drama they were both watching, and eventually the kids.
“The teachers called again. They were talking about wanting us to enroll him into the National Junior Honors Society. They think he’s a good fit for his amazing behavior, good grades, and willingness to help other students.” Mitsuki scoffed, “honestly Inko I don’t understand how he can behave so well in school and be a complete menace at home!”
Inko hummed in acknowledgment, barely paying attention.
“I brought it up to Kats and he nearly exploded my face! He went into a tizzy and said he would rather shove a pencil into his brain then spend more time with ‘those loser extras’.” Mitsuki’s tone turned mocking when quoting her son. “I swear I don’t know what to do with him sometimes” she sighed.
Inko had to exercise some serious self-control to not release a sigh herself. I love my friend. I love my friend. I love my friend. She’s had to remind herself of that a lot more lately.
“Anyway, have they contacted you about Izu? With his sweet behavior, and amazing intelligence they must have offered the same opportunity to him.”
“He doesn’t have good grades” Inko said, no inflection to her voice. She was so tired of this conversation. “I’ve told you, anytime he gets a grade higher than a seventy-five they fail him for cheating.”
Mitsuki scoffed “I’m telling you Inko, you need to report those asshole teachers to the principle.”
Inko glared out of her apartment window trying not to snap at her best friend, “I did.”
“Then take it up with the school board, the school can’t get away with this forever!” Right on the dot, Mitsuki was starting to get riled up. Again.
“I did.”
“Then sue their asses!”
“I can’t!” Inko snapped, stopped, then took a deep breath.
Then Mitsuki said something outside of their usual song and dance, “you can! You just won’t!”
Forget calm. “You think I wouldn’t fight tooth and nail for my own son?” Inko’s voice lowered into an almost growl.
Mitsuki took a deep breath of her own, “you know that’s not what I meant-“
“You think I didn’t march up to an attorney’s office, only to be rejected? You think I didn’t go to the next one, only to get laughed out of their office? Do you think I didn’t try every lawyer I could get into contact with, only to get told no judge would rule in our favor because my son doesn’t have a quirk?” Inko knew her voice was raising with every sentence; she didn’t even try to control it.
Tears of helplessness were leaking out of her eyes. “Trust me Mitsuki I’ve tried everything I could think of, only to get slapped in the face with the fact that everyone will see my baby as less then human. Like the lack of a quirk means his life is already over. I’ve seen it Mitsuki! I’ve seen what he will face in the future! I see it when complete strangers won’t even let him into a store, I see it when I’ve taken him to the park and no one played with him, and I’ve seen it when his father left without a word.”
“Inko” her voice was gentle.
“No!” Inko’s was not. “Need I remind you that the teachers that praise Katsuki’s intelligence are the same ones that gave Izuku detention for getting a ninety-five on the same essay? Because Kami forbid someone without a quirk score higher than a kid with a heroic quirk! I mean he must be cheating right?”
“Inko” Mitsuki’s voice held a warning, but she was on a roll.
At this point Inko was pacing around her apartment, “what about the principle huh? The one that doesn’t even think twice about kids using their quirks on other students, which is illegal!” She laughed with no humor to be found. “The same one that threatened to put a black mark on Izuku’s record for being ‘attention seeking’, when all he did was tell him that his classmates were hurting him.”
The tears running down her face increased as she remembered yesterday. Izuku walking through the door with a cheerful ‘I’m home!’ Inko had rounded the corner to greet him when she saw it. A burn in the shape of a hand around her son’s throat. On. His. Throat.
With that image burnt in to her mind, she spat “or perhaps I should remind you about his aunt. My best friend. How she refuses to protect him from her own son.”
“Now hold on, I told you that I can handle my own kid! Don’t you go blaming your own problems on to us, or do I need to remind you that I have been the only one that’s been there for you!”
The fight Inko had had, had left her swiftly, making her legs feel like jelly. She loved her friend but, “have you?” It came out weakly.
“I’m trying my best here Inko…” Inko thought she heard a hint of pleading in Mitsuki’s voice.
The front door opened, a cheerful greeting following soon after. “I gotta go” she mumbled, ignoring the muffled good-bye she hung up. Inko pat at her face trying to clean her face of her tears without making her face puffy. In an unfortunate routine, she went towards the bathroom “I’ll be out in a minute” she called back.
“Actually, I’m okay mom!” Inko frowned. After she had confronted him about the injuries he continued to receive at school they made a deal; he would show her that day’s injuries, he would take care of what he could, she would take care of the rest, then she wouldn’t interrogate him about who did it in exchange. She wasn’t a fan of not going after the people that keep hurting her son, but at least he doesn’t try to hide injuries from her.
Or at least he didn’t.
“You’ll never guess what mom!” Izuku gushed. At least he seemed happy, she decided to indulge him and went to meet him in the living room.
“What am I guessing… What happened!” When she laid eyes on her son she saw that his arms were wrapped in bandages, and he had a bruise on his cheekbone that looked glossy. Probably some bruise cream rubbed in.
Still Izuku smiled wide, “that’s what I’m saying mom!” His arms were flailing about in excitement, “the usual people were up to their usual stuff” Inko scowled, then quickly wiped the look away. “But we have a new temporary nurse to sub in while Naoki-san is on maternity leave. She saw what they were doing. And. She. Scolded them!” Izuku’s eyes were wide in awe.
Tears started falling down Inkos’ face again as she ran up to sit next to him on the couch. She grabbed him in a hug, without hesitation his arms circled around her. “That’s so good baby!” She smiled into his hair.
“I know right! But it doesn't stop there! Fuyumi-san also helped patch me up AND it didn’t hurt too much!” Izuku was practically vibrating in her arms.
“That makes me so happy to hear” she smiled releasing him.
He started to play with her fingers, glancing up at her with red cheeks “Do you think we can go to the clinic tonight? I want to show them the technique Fuyumi-san used for the um- for the burns. I don’t know that they’ll be able to use it much, because she used her quirk, but maybe they can replicate it some other way?” He squeezed her hand gently and whispered “I also think they would like to hear that there are more good people in the world. Everyone’s been feeling down the last few days, and maybe this will lift their spirits.”
“Maybe it will” Inko hummed, warmth filling her every being. She didn’t understand how her son turned out to be so kind, but she would nurture that with everything she had. She squeezed his hand back “We’ll go tonight after” she said firmly when he perked up. “After we’ve eaten dinner.”
“I guess that’s fair” he grumbled. Inko held back a giggle, as sweet as Izuku was he was still just a kid. It showed in moments like this. While it can be exasperating at times, she was glad to see that he was comfortable enough to let his emotions out. Mostly glad anyway. Izuku paused, "you don't think she'll get in trouble do you?"
Inko decided to be honest, "I don't know, I hope not." She went into the kitchen and started throwing things together for dinner, Udon soup, Izuku trailed after her to set up at the counter bar to work on his homework. His homework, she noticed, was singed. Inko loved her best friend… She did her best to focus on dinner, listening to her son mumble the questions to himself. She pursed her lips when he started to decide what questions to purposefully get wrong, she stirred the noodles into the pot with a little more force.
She sometimes hated her best friend.