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Everything was going well. Midoriya was doing well! He was at UA, he had a quirk -All Might’s quirk- and he even had friends at school for the first time since he was little. Sure, One For All was difficult to control, but Midoriya was already improving. He was planning on spending the weekend training, until-
He got home to see a familiar grey car parked out front. Specifically, his dad’s car. His dad who had moved out when Izuku was five. His dad who, once in a few years, came home to negotiate with (threaten) Izuku’s mother on alimony terms- and throw a look of disdain and maybe an insult or a shove Izuku’s way as he left again. That dad.
Izuku shook away his initial shock and ran up the stairs and to their apartment door. He hesitated, all the memories of his father flooding back, but recovered and unlocked the door. Inside, his mother and father were sitting down having tea. They both turned to him and smiled, but… it was odd seeing his dad smile. It looked wrong and unsettling on him, like a trick mirror at a carnival.
Inko spoke up first, her smile faltering like she’d realised something. “Uh, oh! Izuku! I promise didn’t mean to spring this on you! He was going to go pick up dinner and then you’d get home, so I could explain.”
Wait, what? This was… planned? His mother wanted Hisashi here?
Spotting his confusion, she tried to elaborate, “Maybe we should step outside so I can-”
“Inko. This is my son, I think we can have a simple conversation together.” Hisashi interrupted. “Son, your mother and I are getting back together.”
It’s funny how quickly your perspective on certain things change. A few years ago, those were words Izuku wanted to hear so desperately. Now, he felt like his soul was exiting his body.
“Uh. What?” Izuku responded, dumbly. “Sorry, I mean… I just- I don’t get why-”
“Your father has been sending me letters. Very sweet, lovely letters- and gifts!” Izuku recalled seeing a new bunches of flowers around the apartment frequently. “For about a month. He’s been so sweet.”
“I saw you on TV. The whole sports festival thing- you made it at UA, just like you said you would.” His father was talking with pride but his smile was all wrong. And his eyes- nothing about his contorted face was correct. “You really were just a late bloomer, eh?”
“Uh, yeah. I guess I-”
“You know if you had just got your act together, like I told you, this whole ‘separation’ thing could've been avoided.”
Logically, Izuku could pick apart that sentence and explain everything wrong about it. Hisashi cut Izuku off, Hisashi acted like Izuku had control over quirk development, Hisashi blamed Izuku -a five year old at the time- for his parents divorce. But, when it came to his father, Izuku could never reason his way out of things. Izuku knew that if he tried to disagree all that would happen is Hisashi would interrupt, or yell, or… something worse, and then his mother would cry, and Hisashi would be proven right.
So instead, he just nodded. “Yeah. Uh, sorry.”
His mother looked a little unsure, but didn’t say anything. She glanced between them uneasily.
“Well, Inko, would you mind picking up dinner? Izuku and I should catch up.”
She nodded. “That sounds nice. I’ll be back soon!”
When she left, Hisashi gestured for Izuku to sit down on the sofa with him. It was odd considering this was Izuku’s home, not Hisashi’s.
“You don’t seem happy to see me.”
“I’m not, honestly. I don’t know you outside of the fact that you left.”
“So the second your mother leaves, so do your manners?”
“What? You asked. I didn’t want to make her upset-”
“Izuku.” His father grabbed his wrist harshly. It hurt, but Izuku was frozen. All those times where he moved without thinking to help someone else, but now… he couldn’t do anything. “You want your mother to be happy?”
Izuku nodded, stiffly.
“Then don’t push me away. Do you want me to leave? For it to be your fault all over again?” When Izuku didn’t respond, Hisashi gripped his wrist even tighter. “Well?”
“I- uh… no.” Izuku relented, not making eye contact.
Hisashi loosened his grip and suddenly pulled Izuku into a hug. This time, Izuku did try to lean back but then-
“Aw! I’m glad you too are getting on.” Inko’s voice called over to them. Izuku hadn’t heard her come in.
Hisashi pulled back and smiled at her. “Of course we are.” He reached out to ruffle Izuku’s hair, his fingers pulling too hard and Izuku had to try to not yelp out in surprise.
“I’m so glad you're back.” Inko said lovingly. She had happy tears in her eyes, Izuku noticed. He supposed he’d just have to deal with Hisashi being here. For her sake.
Izuku spent the rest of the weekend avoiding his father. On both days he stuffed whatever he’d need into a backpack and headed out early to stay at the gym for most of the day, and then get home after his parents had dinner so he could take leftovers from the fridge and not interact with anyone. Or at least, that’s what happened on Saturday.
On Sunday Izuku got home, heated up his meal, and went to eat it in his room. He had eaten about half of it when his bedroom door suddenly opened.
Izuku was sitting on his bed with the food on his lap, feeling pretty vulnerable in his All Might pyjamas, looking up at his father.
“Uh. Hi?”
“You got home late, two days in a row.”
“I don’t even have a curfew Hisashi-”
He was cut off by a slap to his face. “What did you just call me?”
Oh shit. Izuku realised his mistake. He really shouldn’t have said that.
“What is it with you and not answering me?”
“I- I’m sorry-”
“Did I ask if you were ‘sorry’?”
“No-”
“Then answer the actual question.”
“I- I called you Hisashi.” and then Izuku added, “I’m sorry- sir.”
Hisashi seemed satisfied by that. “Your new curfew is six.”
“Okay.”
Hisashi stared down at Izuku for a moment, but then left. Izuku stayed tense for the rest of the night. His wrist was starting to bruise colourfully from where Hisashi grabbed it.
After a night of restless sleep, Izuku woke up early to head back to UA. Being able to stay at the dorms was a massive relief. No need to think about Hisashi.
Todoroki, who stayed at the dorms over the weekend, spotted Izuku walking in.
“Hey, Midoriya.” He looked at Izuku and frowned. “Why is your wrist bruised?”
His friend had a tendency to be direct. “Oh- I, uh, guess I injured it training? Yeah.”
“It's a hand shaped mark.” Todoroki pointed out.
“I was training with a, uh- a friend from my old school. He just grabbed me too hard.”
Todoroki looked at him doubtfully. “Okay. I don’t believe you. Call me if you need to.”
“Uh. Alright.” Izuku smiled at him. “But I'm really okay.”
Todoroki didn’t bring it up again, but Izuku could feel his gaze on his neck for the rest of the day. When Izuku changed into a long sleeved shirt, Todoroki definitely noticed.
“Midoriya!” Mina exclaimed when she saw him. “A bold new look- long sleeves-” she clarified when their classmates were confused by the commotion. “you are a trend setter Midoriya- no. You are The trend setter.”
Izuku smiled, then looked over to see Todoroki’s silent disapproval. Later in the day, Izuku considered why Todoroki was reacting so strongly to this. Maybe his situation with Endeavour? Or maybe Izuku was just that bad of a liar.
Shaking his head, Izuku put his focus back on changing his clothes. A few weeks ago, Aizawa had paired Izuku and Mina up for a dual tutoring situation. Mina would teach Izuku to be more fluid and flexible through dance, and Izuku would help Mina build up her muscles.
Mina was so friendly and kind it felt impossible to Izuku. When they started training together Izuku had been waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it never did. It wasn’t like Iida or Todoroki, who started their friendship with a rivalry attached. Mina was nice for the sake of it.
That was probably why she wasn’t letting his injury go the way Todoroki did.
“Mina, I've broken most of the bones in both of my arms at least four times, but you're worried about a bruise?”
“I’m worried because you won’t tell me how you got it! It wasn’t-” she cut herself off, and lowered her voice, “It wasn’t your mum, was it?”
Izuku’s eyes widened. “No- oh my god, no. She would never-”
“Okay, I get it.” For a minute, Izuku thought she was going to drop it. Then, abruptly, “You never really talk about your dad.” She stated.
“He’s- uh, he…” Izuku trailed off. He wasn’t sure what to say.
“Was it him? Did he hurt you?”
Izuku felt his heart in his throat. He hated lying. He hated lying to his friend. He hated lying for his father. “No.” He replied, firmly. “Would you just drop it, please?”
Mina’s usual smile was gone without a trace, but she finally obliged.
No one needed to know, Izuku decided. It wasn’t a big deal- he was only home on the weekend anyway.
The rest of the week flew by quickly- much quicker than Izuku wanted. Knowing his quiet, peaceful weekend was going to be violently disrupted made dread settle in his stomach. On Friday, Aizawa asked him to wait after class.
“Is something wrong Aizawa-Sensei?”
Aizawa’s tired eyes glared right into him. “Yes. Early I overheard Mina talking to Momo about you. She was worried. Today I’ve noticed you’ve been distracted. Is something wrong?”
“Uh- no! I just… haven’t been sleeping well.” That was technically true. “Sorry.”
“I see. Midoriya, everyone needs to rest. Even heroes. Recovery Girl has pamphlets on things that could help.”
“Thank you sensei.”
As Izuku was leaving, Aizawa asked, “Are you sure there isn’t anything else?”
“Uh, yeah. Yes. I’m fine.”
As Izuku opened the apartment door he realised he was, in fact, not fine.
He could hear the muffled shouting from outside and his fears were confirmed as he stepped inside. Izuku’s parents were arguing- or, rather, his father was yelling at his mum. His father looked angry and his mother looked frustrated, but most of all, scared.
Izuku rushed in between them, standing in front of his mother.
“Izuku! Finally. What did I say about curfew?”
“It’s five fifty.” Izuku defended himself. “That’s really not the point. Why are you yelling at her?”
“She’s lying to me. Trying to scam me out of my money.”
His mother, clearly on the verge of tears, shook her head fiercely. “He’s lying, ‘Zuku. I swear- I don’t know what he's talking about.”
“I am not lying! Izuku. You get paid to do hero internships.”
“What? No, I don’t. Internships don’t even last that long. The point is experience. I won’t get paid for hero work until I’m an adult.”
Hisashi’s face was red. He gripped Izuku’s shirt with both hands and pulled Izuku up to eye level. “Tell me your joking.” He ordered, and Izuku could feel the heat of his breath amplified by Hisashi’s quirk on his face.
“I- I can’t- I’m not-”
“Great!” Hisashi yelled sarcastically, slamming Izuku against a wall. Inko was pulling on Hisashi’s arm but he just shoved her away. “I see you on TV, having finally developed a quirk, the same week I get demoted- but no, you can’t do anything to help.” Hisashi pulled Izuku forward and then slammed him back onto the wall. Izuku couldn't help but cry out. Hisashi dropped him, letting Izuku slide down onto the floor.
Izuku sat up, trying to catch his breath. Hisashi grabbed him by his hair and forced him to look up. Then, Inko came from behind Hisashi and hit him with a broom.
“Get out! Leave us alone you maniac!” She yelled at him as she bashed him with the broom.
Hisashi used his quirk to set fire to it, the broom turning to ash in Izuku’s mother’s hands. Hisashi didn’t turn off the fire and was about to burn Inko, until Izuku pushed out of the way. The blast would’ve hit Inko in her face, but got Izuku’s chest instead. Izuku stood his ground blocking his mother with his body. Hisashi had to recharge his quirk after using it like that, but Izuku wasn’t taking any chances.
“Mum. Call the police.”
Hisashi laughed but there was so humour in it. “And then what? You think you can live off a nurse’s salary? You need me, Izuku, both of you do.”
Hisashi finished speaking and went into the living room. Inko sobbed into Izuku’s arms until she eventually got up, put on a wobbly smile and told Izuku it was going to be alright.
Luckily (there was nothing lucky about this situation) Izuku knew exactly how to treat burn wounds, due to… prior experience. Unlucky (that word fit the situation better) the first aid kit in the bathroom only had basic equipment, no burn salve.
Izuku took off his charred shirt and assessed the damage. It was a much worse burn than any that Kacchan had given him, but Izuku assumed the process was the same. Take off all clothing near the burn, wash with mild soap and room temperature water, then apply the salve, then put on nonstick bandages.
It was way past six now, so Izuku would have to buy the salve in the morning. He could risk sneaking out, not when Hisashi might hurt his mother. His body ached, but Izuku ignored it and slept on his back.
When he woke up, Izuku found the lightest, thinnest top he owned and hoped the wound wouldn’t get infected. Conveniently, there was a pharmacy close by, so Izuku headed out as quickly as possible.
There were a few different options, one small tube, and then two tubs. Izuku took the biggest one, and headed down the aisle to find some nonstick bandages.
“Midoriya?” Izuku turned to see Aizawa looking at him. “Why are you buying burn salve?” A look of realisation crossed his face. “Did Bakugo-”
“No! No. Not him. I- my mother burnt herself. On the, uh, stovetop.”
Aizawa narrowed his eyes. “You don’t have to cover for him. If Bakugo would do it to you, he’d do it to other people, you know.”
“It wasn’t Bakugo! Really.” Izuku insisted. “I- I’m okay.”
“Midoriya. It’s okay to ask for help.”
“Well, thank you, sensei. But I don’t need any right now.”
Izuku brushed pass Aizawa and went up to pay. He left as quickly as he could. It was only when he got home that Izuku realised that he had forgot the bandages.
-
Aizawa was worried about his most problematic child. That, in itself, wasn’t the most unusual thing, but what was different was that this time Midoriya was clearly being hurt by someone else, not just his own bad (but well intentioned) choices.
The signs that Midoriya hadn’t had the brightest childhood were always there- the constant over apologising, the respectful and polite language that he extended to everyone, the way he always -without fail- put others before himself, to his own detriment.
Aizawa had once heard that Midoriya was a false negative, so he had simply assumed all of that was a result of bullying. Sad, but not an immediate issue, he’d probably loose those habits as he gained confidence in the hero course.
Now? Now Aizawa was reassessing all of that.
The tired excuse Midoriya had used earlier clearly wasn't the full story, but it could’ve been that Midoriya didn’t want to talk about something he thought was embarrassing, like nightmares or other dreams. The burn salve was a little more concerning, but there were other explanations.
A week after they met in the pharmacy, Midoriya came into school wearing a turtleneck as an undershirt. That was were Aizawa drew the line.
He told Midoriya to wait after class.
Deciding to get to the point, Aizawa asked, “Midoriya, why are you wearing a turtleneck under your shirt?”
“I checked the dress code and there’s nothing against it there.” Midoriya said, assertively.
“That’s not what I asked.” Midoriya tensed a little at those words. “Why are you wearing it?”
“It- uh. It’s cold.”
It was the middle of July. Aizawa silently raised an eyebrow. “Midoriya, are you injured right now?”
Midoriya looked away and didn’t respond.
“Midoriya.” Aizawa reached his hand out and placed it gently on the kid’s shoulder. “Izuku.” Midoriya finally looked up. “Has someone been hurting you?”
Those five words and the dam broke. Aizawa pulled Midoriya into a hug as the boy sobbed into his shoulder.
“Hey. It’s okay, you’re alright.” Aizawa used a softer tone. “It’s all gunna be fine.”
When the sobs became sniffles, Aizawa carefully lead Midoriya through the school, up to his own dorm. Each of the teachers got rooms that were essentially small apartments, one room had a kitchenette as well as a sofa and television, the other was a bedroom with an en-suite. Aizawa guided Midoriya to take a seat on the sofa.
Aizawa then awkwardly thrust a box of tissues at Midoriya. “So,” he began, once Midoriya wiped his eyes. “can you tell me what’s been going on with you?”
Still holding the now damp tissue, Midoriya nodded. “Uh. About… about a month ago, my dad moved back. He’s not- he’s not very nice.” Midoriya spoke very quietly.
“Alright. Izuku, are you injured right now?”
Hesitantly, Midoriya nodded. He unbuttoned his shirt and took off his turtle neck, revealing burns all over his body. Some of them were bandaged, showing how new they were.
“I’m sorry. He pays for almost everything so I couldn’t- or- I can’t- I don’t-” Midoriya cut himself off, clenching his fists tightly.
“What about your mother?”
Tears welled up in Midoriya’s eyes again. “She doesn’t know what to do! She can’t afford to not have a second income- and- and she feels so bad about this.”
Aizawa tried to put on a soothing voice. “It's alright-”
“It’s not!” Midoriya shouted. “It’s not alright. We don't have any other options, Aizawa! What if- what if while I’m fine at school, he’s hurting her? I can’t- I just, can not-”
It was almost alarming to here Midoriya drop the formalities of ‘sensei’, but the wild and scared look in his students eyes made Aizawa realise what he needed to say. He cut Midoriya off from his spiralling.
“Midoriya. Listen to me.” Aizawa’s tone shifted to be firmer. “I will personally make sure that both you and your mother are supported for as long as you need and that your father can’t go near you.” He paused. “Okay?”
Something Aizawa said must of gotten through to Midoriya because he nodded. “Yeah. Yes. Okay. Thank you.”
“It’s alright. We should go see recovery girl now, though.”