Chapter Text
Aizawa pushes through the corridor, nearly dragging a teenager by a sleeve. Behind him, he can hear many words of objection and squeaking of shoes on the polished UA floor. Might even leave some marks.
They finally reach the office. It’s his own, empty, perfect for giving a kid a piece of his mind about the whole situation. After entering, he swoops green problem child inside. One last “Hey!” can be heard before the door is closed behind them.
Aizawa turns around to his son, eyes glaring. If you focus, you’d see a slight red hue in them. “You are being stupidly reckless. I’m so close to smacking you across the head.” He said with only slightly hidden anger. “Putting yourself in that kind of situatio—”
“I couldn’t help it, I’ve told you already!” Izuku interrupts. “It’s like my legs moved on their own!” He pleads, but his eyes are set in stone, completely sure of himself.
“Your legs are attached to you, kid.” Each word accented to hammer it home."They don’t move you, you move them for crying out loud!” His teacher's voice rises a bit at that, patience’s already running thin. “You can’t keep using the same excus—”
“You know what I mean!” Now it’s the boy whose voice is louder. How can you not understand it?
“Don’t interrupt me again.” Aizawa hisses and takes a deep breath. He’s pinching the bridge of his nose now. He seems more tired than usual. Well, if that’s even possible. “Izuku, you were almost stabbed.”
“You see, ‘almost’ is the key word here! But I wasn’t, so what?” The answer is immediate, thrown between them. As if it meant nothing really.
Aizawa looks up at his kid. The deep crease appears between his brows. Suddenly, there’s this uncomfortable silence in the room.
After another second, the older man breaks it with a heavy, a bit breathless “What?”
Izuku is now confused, his own anger starting to burn brightly “So. What.” He repeats, but this time with a bit of snark instead of humour. Accenting both words so there’s no mistaking them. “You saw the recording of the whole attack already. I know uncle showed you. The mother tried to protect her daughter! If I hadn’t stepped in, something might have happened, and then what?”
Aizawa is drilling holes in him with his stare now. He exhales through the nose with conflicted emotions painting his face. “Listen,“ he says through his teeth. “I understand what you must’ve felt. But you can’t be doing things like that. Not when your own life might be at risk.”
No, Dad doesn’t understand. If he did, he wouldn’t be so difficult right now. “That’s what heroes do,” Izuku says proudly. Maybe he overdid it with puffing his chest forward a little, but eh, who cares.
“You don’t even have a provisional licence yet. Being a hero is not your job. What I need you to do is stay saf—”. But he’s interrupted once again. This little shit.
“But soon I’ll have it. I’ll protect others, you know I will. That’s why I’m here. That’s what I’m studying for!” His son protests.
There’s electricity in both their eyes. Determination so familiar. It must be hard arguing with your mirror image. Well, the father’s stubbornness matches the son’s, and it strikes “Maybe that was a mistake.” And lands.
Now it’s the teenager’s turn to ask breathlessly, “What?”
“What you heard. You manage a stunt like this one more time, and I’m pulling you from the hero course. There.” Aizawa’s eyes are cold, so different from the shocked gaze on the other end.
“No,” Kid denies. “You can’t do that!” He might be panicking slightly now.
“Oh yea? I could expel a whole class. You think putting your ass into General Education will be a problem?”
Oh, Izuku is angry now. “You can’t do that!” He repeats louder. “I got in fairly. I’m the first quirkless student in the hero course at this damn school. You can’t do this to me.” He’s taking small steps toward his adoptive father with each sentence. But Aizawa cuts him off.
“First of all, watch your tone. And as your sensei, yes, I can. And I will. And you, as my student, are going to listen.” He folds his arms, closing himself more. “End of story. Your last chance. Am I understood?”
It’s been a while since Zawa used his scary, dad voice. Izuku would like to say it doesn’t work on him anymore. And it is a lot different from when he was little and in trouble.
Still, it does send a shiver of fear down his spine. And maybe any other time when his head was clear, he would react more rationally. But his head is indeed clouded with steadily building rage. He’s angry at the unfairness and lack of understanding. Because how can his dad ever understand when almost the whole country expects you to fail? Just because of the way you were born.
Izuku laughs. More like barks a sad, single chuckle. On what side are you again, old man? “Yes, sir.” He says through his teeth.
He never calls his dad that; there was never a need, but he knows this might sting just a right amount. And it does, Aizawa’s eyes widen just a fraction. His shoulders rise a tiny bit. If he didn’t know the man that well, he wouldn’t have even noticed.
But he does, and Izuku’s smile widens at that. “Anything else?” The kid asks, feeling victorious. There is a tiny thought that he’ll regret it later. He squashes it in his mind and proceeds anyway, “Should I ask if I’m dismissed from now on?”
Aizawa’s face is tense, eyes unreadable. “Go home.” His voice is suddenly as monotone as ever. “Tell Zashi I’ll be back later.” After that, he opens the office door and steps aside for his son, who salutes mockingly.
“Gladly.” Izuku moves past his father and doesn’t look back, even after hearing the door lightly click shut behind him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The walk home was fast. Izuku quickly opened the door to their apartment. Blocked one sneaky ball of black fur from escaping between his legs. “ Godammit, Bastard.” He picks the cat from the floor and puts it inside again. “Go back.” The void just slowly blinks at him in response and trots deeper into the apartment with its tail high. Bastard will try this move again, no matter how many times it fails. It’s almost like a ritual, at this point.
After entering further and kicking his shoes off, Izuku can hear some commotion in the kitchen. He assumes that Zashi is preparing something for dinner. Considering the lack of greeting, he must have his hearing aids out. Good. Right now, Izuku can’t deal with that, and knowing his Pops, the man will figure out quickly that something is up. He has a talent of seeing right through him.
Izuku needs to act fast.
He quietly sneaks through the hallway to his bedroom door. Just in case, you can never be too careful, right? After closing the door, he takes off his backpack and puts it near the bed. He quietly rushes to change into his workout clothes.
He fishes for his phone in the pocket of his school uniform. Izuku simply wanted to check the notifications, and he can’t help but make a face when there’s a new message already waiting.
From Dad.
He throws the phone on the bed without bothering to read it. He’s angry again; he needs to get out of here right now. After finding and struggling with his running shoes, he stops himself in front of the bedroom door. Emerald eyes zero in on his wrist, more exact, on his watch-band. Or his ‘panic-band’, like he began to call it three years ago.
He got his first one when he was still a kid. It’s there just in case, his parents said. If something bad happens, for him to be safe. Izuku only needs to press a button for 3 seconds, and it would send his coordinates and vitals to all trusted contacts and notify the emergency services, as well as the heroes closest to him. It’s also there so his dads can check his location if they feel the need to. That was the deal.
Fuck that.
He takes the band off (more like rips it off) and throws it across the room. As soon as it leaves his hand, he tenses a bit, but luckily, it doesn’t make a ton of noise. Izuku slips to the corridor again but stops before heading out. He can’t just leave without the word. That wouldn’t be fair.
Almost instantly, he can hear a familiar voice, “Zuzu? Is that you, kiddo?”
Ah, so the hearing aids were in. I will outsneak you someday.
He can’t help but cringe a bit at the childhood nickname, but the attempts at correcting stopped some time ago. Thankfully, Zashi doesn’t call him that in public anymore. Besides, Izuku kind of likes it. He’d never admit it, though. Not out loud. Over his dead body. “Yeah, Pops. I’m heading for a quick run. Dad will come home later.” Izuku calls back, his hand already on the handle.
“Ok, sunshine, I’m just starting, so the dinner will be ready in like an hour.”
“Ok, bye!” He closes the front door too quickly; it cuts the last “Have fun. Love you” from Zashi. He doesn’t hear it; his mind is too focused on the frustration. He needs to run it out of him.
After a short elevator ride, he passes Aya, the receptionist, for the third time today. She smiles at him warmly.
“Workout, I see?” She teases, her blacked out eyes creasing at the edges. He used to be a bit scared of them after seeing her for the first time at the ripe age of 4. They seemed almost eldritch against her pale, almost grey skin. Izuku would hide behind any adult leg closest to him for the first 2 weeks of his stay. Luckily, it didn’t take long for him to become his naturally curious, analytical self.
Now after so many years, they grew to have a friendly relationship. How many times would Izuku forget his own keys and have to wait for his parents in the lobby? She would be there to listen to his ramblings, and she’d even sometimes allow him to help her out behind the counter. It was always lovely.
“Yup, I need to cool off. Can you, please, please, pleaaaseee not tell my Dad when you see him, please?” He’s reaching across the counter with his hands clapped in a praying gesture. “I will love you forever.”
Aya pushes the hands away from her face with a pen. There’s a smirk on her face. “Spare me, rascal. Just go.” She gestures towards the entrance with her head and turns away from the boy, some papers in her hands. “I’ve never seen you.”
That makes Izuku smile widely. “You are the best, thank you.” Finally, he thinks, normal adults.
He rushes toward the front of the building and starts as fast as he can. The worst thing to happen would be to run into Aizawa now. Ugh.
Izuku doesn't go his normal route. Or the one he takes with Hitoshi sometimes, when his cousin visits. He also doesn’t really think about where exactly he is going. At this point, he just wants to run.
So he does and goes until he can’t think. The only thought in his mind is the burn in his thighs and keeping his breaths regular.
In and out.
He pushes himself more, to a sprint almost. He runs across the street, some car is honking now in the distance. Wasn’t the light green? He’s not sure.
More.
Further.
How much time has passed? He doesn’t care.
He can do it.
He may not have engines for calves like Tenya, but he can do it.
He must. Prove to himself and others.
He needs to do it. There’s a railing in front of him.
He needs to– wait, what?
He practically slams, ribs first, into the railing after failing to slow down enough.
“Ughhh.” Welp, great. That’s gonna leave a bruise. So much for proving yourself, dumbass.
Two people who have just witnessed his athletic performance try to scatter away, whispering to each other in hushed voices. Izuku rests his head on the metal railing, cooling his forehead and trying to control his breathing again.
“Fuck. “ He mutters, and after one more second lifts his head and takes in the surroundings. Umm, ok, so …what? Where is he exactly? Before him spreads the coastline. Ok, more like a junkyard.
“Eww.” And it smells, great. “What kind of place is this?”
The teenager automatically reaches for his back pocket, only to realise that his phone has, of course, been left behind. He curses once more.
Well, that now would make him put some yen into a “curse jar”. Truly one of the stupidest ideas Zashi has ever had. And unfair at that, cause Zawa wouldn’t pay up. This stubborn, old –
“No.” Izuku stops his train of thought. “Stupid brain, enough.”
He doesn’t need to get pissed off again.
Izuku sighs to himself and reaches the closest sign, hoping for some name or maybe even a map. Hopefully.
“...”Takoba Municipal Beach Park,” he mumbles out loud to himself. “Huh? ‘Beach Park’, my ass. This is a dump.”
He moves to the stairs and leads himself between the piles of garbage, kitchen appliances, nasty-looking syringes, and some rotten wood. He tries not to question some of the things he sees.
There’s a wooden pier with a small gazebo that seems not to have been renovated for a long, long time. This place might be even older than him, he thinks while the planks underneath his sneakers squeak dramatically. It, for sure, is older than him.
The layer of dust is truly impressive, considering the proximity of the sea. Dad would probably compare it to my roo–
”No. I don’t want to think about him.” He proclaims loudly. Maybe Zashi would be fine with him having a lobotomy; maybe that would just shut his brain finally. Maybe he needs to talk to Hound Dog about intrusive thoughts in his next session or something. This is getting tiring. Why can’t it ever be quiet?
He looks out the small window onto the sea. It’s… beautiful. The water is glistening in the rays of the afternoon sun. He can see some kites flying near the horizon. In the background, few seagulls are loudly letting him know about their existence. They’re flying close to the surface of the water. Mostly, it’s very peaceful. Perfectly soothing for his anger and stressed out mind.
After some more delightful silence and deep breaths, Izuku kind of feels like crying. His emotions simmered down to manageable levels at least. The run definitely helped with that.
Wow, a healthy coping mechanism! …Well, as long as you ignore the whole almost getting pancaked by a car and running in full rage mode into a railing.
Yeah, Izuku is proud of himself. Healthy coping mechanism. Kids his age are doing drugs and having unprotected sex somewhere for sure; so it could be worse, he thinks. His parent can’t complain too much.
“This is a cool hiding spot.” He notices to himself. “Not too many people around. Even cute if I could clean it up a little.”
He’s about to check the gazebo more when there’s a sudden scream in the distance. He stops and peeks a bit out of the entrance, and there he sees it.
Next to the nearest building, there’s a group of jackasses (probably), and they are ganging up on someone.
A kid? He’s not sure. The person is quite short, but it’s hard to tell from that far away anyway. Also, five on one? Now, that’s just nasty work.
Well, you won’t guess what his legs do next. Dad is going to kill him.