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Izuku had always known the difference between a father and a dad. 

He was reminded of the differences everytime his father came back home from a business trip (always stumbling through the doorways, yelling at his mother, hitting Izuku when he came to his mother’s defense, threatening the both of them until he finally goes away again) but Izuku always liked Bakugou’s dad. 

Because Bakugou’s dad was a dad.

He was quiet and understanding. He listened to Izuku and ruffled his hair. He cared.  

Kacchan and Izuku may not have always been on the best terms, but everytime he came to school with bruises and exhaustion seemed to weigh on him, Kacchan got his lackeys to leave Izuku alone (only allowing the verbal humiliation) and he walked home with Izuku in silence. 

As Izuku got older he spent his evenings climbing up to rooftops near parks and watched as dads interacted with their children. 

He watched as they cared for the children’s scraped knees and kissed them better. Izuku watched as their dads entertained them, running around with their children atop of their shoulders and laughing with them. 

He watched, one faithful day, as a dad ran to their child’s defense from bullies and protected them (that dad never hit anyone, never scared their child for crying; just hugged them said they were there for them) and that dad walked away with their child, only to come back a few minutes later with ice cream in their hands and laughter in their lungs. 

Yes. Izuku understood the difference between a father and a dad all too well. 

And that understanding was the only reason he was calm at the moment. 

You see, it was a stormy afternoon that had class 1-A, Aizawa-sensei, Yamada-sensei, and Eri-chan relaxing throughout the first floor of the dorms. 

Most of the class was bundled up together in front of the TV, all watching an old cartoon show or having small discussions with the person next to them. 

Aizawa-sensei and Yamada-sensei were sitting at the dining table, grading papers and looking through manilla folders (most likely a case of some sort) while Eri-chan sat next to Aizawa-sensei coloring in a small coloring book that Izuku had gotten for her a few weeks ago. 

Izuku himself, well, he had gone up to his room to just relax and drop his smile for a bit. 

He jumped slightly as he heard a firm rasp against his door. Worried, he picked up his smile and opened the door to see Aizawa-sensei and Eri-chan standing in front of him. 

Izuku furrowed his eyebrows towards Aizawa-sensei, who merely sighed in response and gestured towards Eri-chan. 

“Deku! I asked Eraserhead if I could ask you an important question!” She exclaimed, quirking her lips into a smile with her eyes shining bright. Hesitantly she leaned forwards as Izuku dropped into a crouch wearing a soft smile. “Is that okay?” 

Izuku just softens his eyes and runs his hand through her hair. “Of course. I told you that you could ask me anything and I meant it.” He responded softly. 

She just beamed at him while patting his knee and nodded at him before running in and seating herself on his bed, patting to the side of her. He just chuckled and nodded, accepting his fate (although he never dreamed of denying his Eri-chan in the first place). 

“Deku, can you tell me what a dad is?” Eri asked. 

And oh, how a simple question could hold so much weight.

So much so that he forgot about his door being open and not noticing that Aizawa-sensei stiffened from his place against the doorframe, getting ready to answer. 

He forgot everything except Eri, who was looking at him intently. He knew that the smile he offered her was painful, he knew his eyes were burning with unshed tears but he also knew that she deserved an answer. 

“Well Eri-chan,” Izuku began softly, blinking in the process. He wasn’t aware of his tears that were streaming slowly down his face. He wasn’t aware of how thickly he had swallowed in his attempt to get the lump in his throat down. “I know that a dad is supposed to love you unconditionally and that a dad cares about you. Does that make sense so far?”

He sniffed when Eri nodded slowly, reaching her hand up and resting it on his cheek. 

“It makes sense, Deku. Are you okay?” Eri asked. He could see the gears in her brain work, trying to figure out if she would get in trouble for asking a question that would make him feel bad and he just nodded, keeping his soft smile up. 

Izuku was too lost in thought to notice that Yamada-sensei and Bakugou had arrived, cautiously watching their interaction. 

“I’m okay Eri. I promise,” He responded softly. “It’s just been a while since I’ve remembered what a dad is.” (not a father-not a father-not a father)

Eri just nodded and looked like she wanted to take her hand away from his face. He just brought his hand up and grasped hers, threading their fingers together, trying to silently convey that there would be no punishment for how he felt about this discussion. 

“Dads, from what I remember, care about everything you do. From when you wake up in the morning to what kind of ice cream you like. A dad will be there to care for you when you get knocked down and hurt. They’ll be there to scare off the bad things in the night when you get nightmares and a dad will be there to protect you from everything and anyone,” Izuku smiled again, just as soft but with less pain within it as he paused. (remember…remember all those notes you took on the dads you saw in the park and what Kacchan’s dad is like).  

“A dad will lift you up just to make you feel on top of the world and a dad will read stories with you or work together on homework. Dads… are your own personal Hero, I suppose.” 

Izuku hitched his breath, still too lost in thought to notice the other three do the same when Eri launched herself into Izuku’s arms and he wrapped them around her. 

He hadn’t noticed the three guests walk further in and close the door to keep other prying eyes and ears away. 

All he noticed was Eri. 

“Are you my dad, Deku?” Eri asked ever so innocently. 

She pulled back from the hug to look at Izuku, who had wide eyes and a fresh batch of tears waiting as he took a deep breath and smiled at Eri. 

“If you want me to be, I can be your dad Eri-chan.” Izuku said, albeit very hesitantly and obviously choking up at the words but Eri just nods and buries her face in between his shoulder and neck, clinging on desperately to Izuku. 

“”Thanks dad.” Eri whispers into him, slightly muffled from where she is and he just sags against the wall with Eri in his lap and he closes his eyes and bits his lip from letting his tears become audible. 

“Of course, my darling.” Izuku tells Eri, petting her hair as he tries to get his tears under control and rubs circles around her back when he realizes she had been crying too. 

“It’s okay to cry, my Eri. I’ve got you.” He whispers into her hair. Soon enough, her shoulders start shaking as she cries into his shirt. 

He doesn’t need to know why she’s crying (although he has a few guesses) but he just holds onto her through it all, well after his own tears are dried and gone. 

He smiles softly, eyes still closed as he feels Eri slump against him, obviously worn out emotionally. 

He’s content like this, with Eri in his arms. Izuku is content enough to sag further against the wall and drift off and relax here. The last thing he remembers is a blanket being cautiously tossed over Eri and him before he falls asleep. 

Shouta knew he wasn’t going to have a relaxing day. It was just never in the books for him. 

Even when he was sitting, content with his husband and UA's ward, he was waiting and soon enough, he got the disaster he had been waiting for. 

But this disaster…it’s safe to say he didn’t know what to do, which is why he texted Hizashi to come to Midoriya’s room. Shouta seriously wasn’t ready to deal with an explosive Bakugou, who had followed Hizashi, but he just held a finger to the lips and walked in cautiously with the other two.

Bakugou kept his eyes on the ground, only looking up when Midoirya and Eri slowed their cries, showing off a puffy face with bloodshot eyes. 

All three of them seemed to be out of their depth when they realized Midoriya had no qualms with being a father figure towards Eri, even if he didn’t seem to know how to describe what a dad exactly was (and why he looked so pained when he noticed Eri had seen him as a father?). 

As soon as the pair fell asleep, Shouta moved to place a stray blanket gently over the two and quietly led the other two out of the room and into the hall. 

Hizashi looked terrible, obviously, since he had been crying throughout the kid’s entire speech but too scared to let sobs out unless he wanted to risk damaging everyone’s eardrums. Shouta had no doubt he would look the same when he found somewhere quiet to break down. 

“Aizawa-sensei,” Bakugou grunted, determination and pity swirling in his eyes as he continued. “You care about your students, right?”

Shouta couldn’t deny the fact that Bakugou had taken on a defensive stance, almost prepared for it if he responded with a simple no and moved on. Shouta noticed how much hope Bakugou seemed to have as he asked that question. Dread and anxiety pooled in his stomach as he nodded at his student. 

“Of course, Bakugou.” Shouta said easily. It was no secret he got attached quickly (and this year's batch of problem children certainly didn’t help his heart as they got attacked over and over). Shouta watched Bakugou eye him warily, obviously judging him, sizing him up. 

“And you care about Deku, right?” Bakugou said. Whatever was making him calm and yet seething with anger was something Shouta wanted to help with so of course he responded. 

“Yes, he’s my problem child. Why, Bakugou?” Shouta asked. If the way Bakugou held himself now had any indication about the situation he would say the kid almost looked like an older brother, clearly ready to protect the problem child. 

“Tsk. Fine but if you don’t care then I can promise you I’m making your teaching career for the next three years a living hell. Got it?” Bakugou growled.

At first, Shouta was speechless, not because one of his students threatened him but because Bakugou sounded…desperate. He sounded so desperate for someone to just listen and believe him. 

Shoute really didn’t like where this was going. 

“I understand Bakugou,” Shouta responded, making sure to keep his voice calm and face neutral. “Can you explain what’s going on?” (because sure, Midoriya’s response to Eri’s question was extreme and a bit worrying but he was just planning on getting the kid some therapy and talking to him).  

Bakugou just nodded and waved them to follow him and soon enough, they were all crowded into Bakugou’s dorm room as he paced and muttered under his breath before looking at them. 

“It started when the nerd was around six or seven. He would show up to class with bruises and sometimes burns but no one cared because he got his quirk late,” Bakugou started, shocking and angering both himself and his husband at the implications of that statement. 

Bakugou just let his hands run through his hair as he sighed. “We could all connect the dots when we realized his father was only home when the bruises were there and while the man was gone for another business trip they all disappeared.”

Bakugou paused to stare at him before nodding to himself.   

“The nerd has asked a teacher for help a total of three times,” Bakugou made sure to keep eye contact with him as he continued. “No one has ever helped him.”

Shouta let his rage seep like ice into his veins. He didn’t know whether to cry and scream or wrap Eri and his problem child in bubble wrap and deck anyone who looked at the pair. 

Because he should’ve been able to notice.

For god’s sake, he was trained in finding signs of abuse victims but Midoriya just seemed to remain content in covering up everything (and there’s no wonder as to why. If those fucking teachers refused to listen to kid about the abuse he was probably sent back to his home with an angry abuser) but fuck Shouta just wishes that Midoriya didn’t have to hide his red flags well enough that multiple seasoned pros wouldn’t have been able to fucking see them.  

Shouta prided himself in noticing things others usually wouldn’t pay attention but everything that was off with the problem child all seemed to be related back to poor quirk control (like his freakishly high pain tolerance) or his social anxiety in the classroom (but anxiety doesn’t cover the fact that the problem child flinches at anyone too loud). 

Shouta nodded to himself as he ran a mental list of the things he needed to do. The detective was going to be his first call, Nedzu next, then house visit. He had no idea if the mother was involved or neglecting him. Then he needed to figure out how to take Midoriya in as a UA ward, and then--

“Shou.” He looked up to see Hazashi who had prodded his arm, who had a confused grimace stretched across his face. “Bakugou asked if you’re going to help the little listener.”

Shouta understood, nodding to his husband and looked back at his student. 

“Midoriya will get help. I’ll make sure of it.” Shouta said with so much conviction that Bakugou looked taken back while his husband was just smiling at him. 

The both of them bid their goodbyes and left to go back to the teacher’s lounge. 

Time to bother a certain detective again. 

Naomasa was having an okay day. 

He couldn’t have been more excited for an okay day. It’s been a long time since that’s happened. 

But, like all good things, that came to an end when the detective got a call from a certain pro-hero and homeroom teacher of the infamous class 1-A. The detective just sighed and ran a hand down his face before answering. 

‘I need you in UA tomorrow morning.’ 

And that… was a very angry Eraserhead.

Naomasa just gave into his fate and asked what time he should be there. He really didn’t want to pry but he would need to know exactly why he was being brought in. 

And the answer? Well it wasn’t confusing as to why Eraserhead had spoken so rudely throughout the entire call (you can sue him but Naomasa started to see Toshi’s successor as his nephew and right now he couldn’t do anything for him except pry and pray the boy doesn’t hate him after this). 

‘Midoriya Izuku and Bakugou Katsuki need to give statements concerning Midoriya’s home life.’

And currently, well if anyone saw Naomasa storm off to the gun range and not come out until hours after, no one said anything. 

Izuku woke up as he usually does; immediately aware of his surroundings but content to lay there and wait to open his eyes. So when Izuku noticed he was holding a child in his arms, it took a few seconds for his brain to reboot and figure out what was going on. 

Eri sees me as her dad. 

That was the first coherent thought he had as he remembered what happened last night. 

While waiting for Eri to wake up, he slowly drew circles on her back with his thumb and stifled a groan when he thought back to his reaction. He knew why parents in general were a hard topic but even for Father’s Day he had managed to stay composed throughout classes that day. 

He couldn’t understand why it was hard for him to talk about what a dad does (maybe, his mind whispers, it’s because you’ve never known what exactly they do). Afterall, research can only get you so far and yes, Izuku knew how pathetic it was to cry about not knowing something so simple. He knew that. 

But…it just hurt. It hurt when he watched everyone else enjoy time with their dads. It hurt so much to talk about what dads do when he wasn’t completely sure if there was something else to it (afterall he’s never been quite sure how to earn a dad. What were the conditions?). 

He’d grown up in a house with a father and a mother. 

Others grew up in a home with a dad and mom.  

He’d always had a disconnect and the only one who could even begin to imagine how deep that disconnect ran was Kacchan. 

Kacchan. The boy who was kind enough to share his parents with Izuku, even when they never got along. The boy who, despite his anger, knew when to pull back because he noticed the bruises littering Izuku’s body were shaped too big for any of the other kids to be able to do that to him. The boy who knew Izuku like the back of his hand, even if he didn’t want to. 

He was the only person who knew why Izuku struggled with understanding normal family activities, the one who understood why Izuku came over so often and had to share his parents with him. 

And now Eri knew too. 

Izuku doesn’t have any doubt that Eri knew why Izuku struggled with her question so much (she’s a smart girl who’s only getting smarter) and he found that Eri knowing this secret of his didn’t bother him, especially since she’d known about other secrets from his past. 

If anyone deserved to know Izuku’s secrets, it was Eri (they both had a scarred childhood; that was something both of them found out within a few seconds of meeting each other) and Izuku couldn’t help but worry about his new title.

How does one even start being a dad? Izuku certainly doesn’t know. He doesn’t know how to parent or care for anyone (he can’t even bring himself to care about himself) but he would learn, he had to learn. 

He can’t let Eri down. He can’t become a father (only a dad). 

As Izuku’s thoughts were running wild, he felt Eri slowly come to. She stiffened but relaxed quickly once she realized who she’d woken up with. Izuku just softly smiled in case she looked up and petted her hair, content to wait for a bit before accepting the morning. 

He felt Eri wiggle around and he opened his arms more so she didn’t feel like she had to stay in his arms. She just giggled and hopped off the bed, shuffling towards his bathroom. 

Izuku found a warm feeling blooming in his chest as he watched her. He couldn’t understand it, but he liked the feeling (he loved the feeling of watching his Eri-chan do basic things with him; her presence always made simple things feel important). 

Together the duo got ready for the day (Izuku already had some of Eri’s spare clothes in his closet and a spare toothbrush) and soon enough they were headed off to the common room. 

He was content; Like a weight had gotten just the smallest bit lighter when Eri beamed at him like Izuku could hold the world in his hands and was someone special. 

They shuffled past some of the others that were awake, or at least semi-coherent enough to be leaning on the dining table. It wasn’t particularly early, but more of his classmates opted to relax in the privacy of their rooms before coming down for breakfast and heading to classes. 

Izuku made breakfast for himself and Eri, who was now sitting on his hip, and he began walking them over to the dining table. Before he could get there, Aizawa-sensei came around the corner and stopped the duo. 

“Problem child, Eri,” Aizawa-sensei greeted gruffly before turning his attention to Izuku. “You and I are going to visit Nedzu this morning before we go to class. Don’t worry, you’re not in any trouble.”

Izuku just nodded dumbly and wandered over to the table before seating Eri. He felt his panic and anxiety rise but forced it down the best he could (he couldn’t panic in front of Eri). Izuku just distracted himself by watching Eri happily eat breakfast and smiled fondly when she greeted Izuku’s classmates when they came down the stairs, obviously happy to be a part of the morning routine. 

Izuku just resigned himself to smiling wider for his classmates, brushing off their invitations to walk to class together while washing their dishes, trying his best to maintain the smile on his face. 

Once he and Eri were getting ready to head off to the teacher’s lounge, he allowed himself to smile softly (not the beaming smile that seemed to blind his classmates) and crouched down to her level as she struggled to get her shoes back on. 

“Do you want me to undo the laces for you darling?” Izuku was hyper-aware of how quiet the common room got when he spoke to Eri but he couldn’t care about them; this was his Eri and he needed her to know that he’d be a dad for her (not a father-never a father). 

Eri just beamed at him and nodded. “Yes please dad!” 

You could hear a pin drop after Eri had responded but Izuku paid his classmates no mind, just kept smiling softly at Eri while helping her get on her shoes and stood up. Hand-in-hand, the duo walked out without sparing a glance to the rest of class 1-A, who was no doubt ready to hound Izuku about this exchange. 

Izuku felt his nerves grow after he dropped Eri off with Kayama-sensei and they were only getting worse with each step he took towards UA.

He wasn’t sure why he’d been called into the principal’s office but obviously something had happened since nothing good came from being called out by teachers and sent to the principals. Izuku just forced himself to trudge on, working through his memory to find something that he’d done wrong (maybe he wasn’t allowed to have Eri sleepover in his room?) and didn’t find much wrong. 

But obviously he’d messed up, so he continued on. 

Too soon, he arrived. Izuku knocked on the door and heard the principal cheerily call him to come in (and wasn’t that odd-didn’t the principal usually open the door before others were able to knock?).

As soon as he opened the door, he noticed Detective Tsukauchi and Aizawa-sensei were seated on the couches along with Principal Nedzu (which means he really messed up) and tensed before hesitantly walking over. 

“Welcome Midoriya! Take a seat. Would you like any tea?” Nedzu asked. Izuku just forced himself to nod his head as he walked quickly over to the seat provided for him. 

Obviously Nedzu wouldn’t offer any tea if I was truly in trouble. He does this as a tactic on top of adhering to common social practices which means…this is an issue surrounding me not of me itself. 

With that confirmation, Izuku sat down hesitantly in his seat before looking up to face the three adults, trying to keep his mouth shut so he couldn’t damn himself further than what had already happened (he also didn’t have time to be listening to his emotions that were currently going haywire and were bound to spill out as soon as he opened his mouth- they never got him far when he was in trouble).

Izuku could feel himself slowly start to shut down. He found that every time he was stuck with adults, he didn’t mind the feeling of his emotions running away from him. He liked not throwing them into the equation (although, when he came back to himself, it always hurt to have to deal with his panic attacks afterwards) and it was much better for everyone when he didn’t burden more people. 

It was…well not relaxing but a nice reminder that he’d be able to get through this without dealing with his stutter (mostly) and be able to rely on his brain. 

“Midoriya,” Nedzu started, making sure Izuku was looking at him before continuing. “We wanted to reassure you that you’re not in trouble but we had a few questions we wanted you to answer with the detective here.”

Izuku swallowed and nodded, nervously wringing his hands together while turning his attention to the detective. He was the detective All Mi-- Yagi had said was his friend. Izuku extended a small amount of trust towards the detective because of that (but that trust didn’t stretch far). 

“O-okay. N-nice to meet again, Detective.” Izuku said, grimacing as his stutter came out. 

The detective seemed to take it all in stride and nodded to Izuku. “Nice to see you again Midoriya. Well, we have a few concerns that were brought to light recently. I am required to inform you that my quirk is passive and registers the statements you make as a truth or lie. Do you consent to this being recorded?”

Izuku was stunned. Concerns? What the hell did that mean? No one seemed to be off and Izuku had acted normally the entire week even when he knew he had to go home this weekend so who brought something to light and what was it? 

“-doriya. Izuku.” A voice called with a bit of urgency. Izuku came back to himself when he saw Aizawa-sensei getting up to sit next to him but Izuku just shook his head and gave his sheepish smile towards the adults. 

“S-sorry. Detective,” Izuku looked at the man and watched him as he asked his question. “I-is this an interrogation and w-what does this need to be recorded f-for?” 

Izuku watched the detective tense slightly at the words ‘interrogation’ and he filled that information away for later. It wouldn’t do good for his mental walls to come down before he was questioned and now he needed those walls more than ever it seemed.

“No Midoriya. This is not an interrogation, just a few questions to ensure your safety.” As Izuku mulled over the detective’s words, he couldn’t help but notice how Aizawa-sensei tensed at the mention of his safety. 

Which meant deflecting and being vague is going to be much harder than usual but very much needed for this conversation.  

“Okay t-then. You c-an record this.” Izuku responded softly, still running ideas through his head about how to ensure he’s safe and will be fine (Izuku doesn’t know how he’ll hold up in a foster home and he’s not keen on figuring it out, especially if he’s in a class susceptible to villain attacks). 

“Thank you Midoriya,” the detective set up the recording device and began the…interview? “This is Detective Tsukauchi Naomasa with Aizawa Shouta and Principal Nedzu interviewing Midoriya Izuku. It is currently 8:02 AM on the 16 of April. To begin, Midoriya, can you tell me your name and your parent’s names?”

Izuku almost blue-screened but didn’t want his panic to show but throughout all of it he only had one question that he was sure he knew the answer to. 

Why would he say anything about my mother and father?

“O-of course,” Izuku took a few steadying breaths before continuing. “M-my name is Midoriya Izuku and my p-parent’s names are Midoriya Inko and Midoriya Hisashi.”   

Izuku mentally patted himself on the back for not stuttering over his parent’s names (that would point fingers before he could deflect anything) and focused back on the detective. 

“True. Now Midoriya, are you safe at home?” The Detective asked. Izuku, even if he predicted this question being asked, he knew that this would be the hardest one to deflect. 

“I am as s-safe as I can get.” Izuku responded. He knew that answer would cause more questions (if the raised eyebrows were any indication) but he’d be able to move the questions away from direct questions so he can stay vague. 

“True,” The detective said frowning (most likely annoyed at the response and his quirk but Izuku wasn’t pulling any punches if that meant people would leave him alone-he refuses to go somewhere else when he doesn’t know the rules and expectations). “Midoriya, can you expand on that?”

Well, time to play victim. “Sure,” Izuku said, threading his fingers together while letting his leg bounce to get rid of extra nerves (because maneuvering and potentially outsmarting these three adults, Nedzu especially, is not something Izuku was prepared for this godforsaken morning). “W-with…everything that’s h-happened this year, I c-could be safer but it’s m-mostly just paranoia.” 

And that was the truth. Izuku was ridiculously paranoid about attacks outside of UA and them happening as he goes home but that wasn’t what the detective meant when he wanted Izuku to elaborate and they both knew it. 

Izuku saw the way Aizawa-sensei tensed at his answer and how quickly Nedzu had placed his shaking teacup down. Izuku felt guilty for bringing up the issues they’ve all had with the villain attacks and using it to deflect but he just couldn’t. 

Izuku wasn’t ready for ‘help’ because he knows that any attention towards his family would be bad for everyone. 

Izuku knows how hard it is to remember new expectations and punishments. He refuses to relearn what he had to deal with. He can’t handle another family (especially not another father) but the worst thing coming from this dig into his past would expose All Might’s secret. Izuku can’t, won’t, let All Might down just because three adults were prying into his life before UA. 

“True,” the detective was frowning again before he took a deep breath and closed his eyes (mostly likely a direct question then) before nodding to himself. “Okay. We know in the past you’ve attended your school with bruises and burns before. Who gave you them?”

Izuku just glanced down and took a few deep breaths. Right now, he could throw Kacchan under the bus (or really anyone from his past) or he could say his father. Izuku seriously didn’t know how to explain this because this is the second secret of his past. Another part of his past that people didn’t need to know about, nor should they pretend to care about. No one has ever cared before, so why the hell are they trying to now? Is this what people have to deal with when they get their quirks? 

“Y-yes. I’ve a-attended school before with bruises b-before.” Izuku said, unwillingly to say anything more as he felt his jaw click shut. 

Izuku's nerves just came back full force as Aizawa-sensei furrowed his eyebrows and the detective tensed, still sporting a frown. Izuku opted not to try and read Nedzu because any animalistic tendencies he would show tend to be more true than the human expressions he wore but Izuku was wearing down. His emotions were scattered and frantically running around and he knew if they kept pushing, the mental cage he locked his emotions in would slam shut. He seriously wasn’t too keen on them watching him without emotions, even if it was easier to deal with life that way.   

“True. Midoriya. Did you come to school with burns as well?” Tsukauchi asked, leaning forward at this point. 

Izuku just steeled himself as he felt his mental wall drive up higher and higher. “I h-have had burns at school b-before.” 

“True. Midoriya, who gave you those burns?” Tsukauchi asked. Everyone in the room seemed to be content to force answers out of him. 

Izuku couldn’t understand it. Why did they want to know about things that they wouldn’t be dealing with later on? No one has ever helped and the only person he’d semi-trust to actually do an investigation would be Nedzu (because anyone can notice his aversion to humans and his scar spoke loud, horrifying stories) but the rest? 

They’re just adults. Prying, nosy adults who just want information about his private life. Izuku knows they don’t care for him. His nickname for one of the adults in the room right now is problem child for crying out loud.

And sure, they’re adults, not parents so he knows they won’t be able to punish him further than he can handle but he doesn’t know what they need from him. They’re also teachers, well, one of them is. How the hell is Izuku supposed to tell his homeroom teacher his problems without getting expelled? The man quite obviously has an aversion to Izuku, so how come he’s leaning forward in his seat, so ready to pry answers from him about this?

Izuku just doesn’t understand. He’s never hated a feeling more. 

“T-that doesn’t m-matter.” Izuku just kept his gaze down to avoid the glares of disappointment or a vindictive grin on Aizawa-sensei’s face. 

Izuku didn’t see the worried glance the detective sent the other adults before tapping his finger to his knee twice to show them Izuku hadn’t lied. Izuku didn’t watch them all become much more concerned than they already were. 

Izuku did hear a sigh from Aizawa-sensei and couldn’t suppress the flinch that came. He was already suppressing everything else. 

“Hey Midoriya, you know that’s not true. It matters who hurts you so we can prevent them from hurting you again.” Aizawa-sensei said in a much gentler tone from what Izuku was used to. 

Izuku doesn’t think he deserves it. The weird way Aizawa-sensei would subtly praise them and motivate the class was something Izuku was accustomed to; not whatever this was, not the gentle and soft tone the man was using now. 

Izuku could almost laugh. He had friends (kind of) and he had teachers who didn’t seem to hate him anymore (sometimes) but no one cared for him. The part of him that wasn’t all smiles and determination. But now here he was with people who thought he deserved more, who thought that they could take care of Izuku’s demons but they underestimated how many secrets Izuku could hold. 

Because Izuku has a few things he’s planned on taking to his grave and they’re going to have to fill in the six foot hole he’s already dug before they get answers, or they’re going to deal with Izuku when he gets annoyed enough. Neither of these options really feel like the right choice but what was Izuku supposed to do? Tell them? Without his hand being forced?

“I’m f-fine now,” Midoriya started, slowly raising his head back up to look at his audience. “So w-what happened back then doesn’t matter.”

Everyone seemed to be confused before Tsukauchi shook his head and tapped on his knee twice. 

“Alright Midoriya, we just have a few more questions before we’re done here.” The detective seemed annoyed when he looked down at his blank notebook and tapped his pen to the sheets before looking back at him. “Are you being abused by your mother?”

Aizawa-sensei seemed taken back by the blunt question while Nedzu just sat on the other side of the couch, sipping tea while his whiskers twitched. 

Izuku held the detective’s gaze before answering (repeating the mantra of ‘not directly’ over and over before praying this works). “No.”

Detective Tsukauchi seemed to have trouble understanding Izuku’s answer before tapping his finger three times on his knee and nodding. “Has your mother ever abused you?”

Izuku dug his nails into his thighs, taking pleasure in the pain as he forced himself to continue the mantra in his head before responding. “No.”

Izuku tensed when he watched the detective tap his knee once and Nedzu leaned forward. Fuck.  

“Midoriya. If I could ask, when is the last time you’ve seen your mother?” Nedzu asked. 

Izuku mentally rolled his eyes as he realized they’re being subtle about knowing what he said was a lie (and how perfect was that; that they pretended to care while mentally wondering how to get him into a completely new environment. They all seemed to realize how uncomfortable changes made him; how the hell would this be any different?). “S-since the dorms it’s been c-close to three w-weeks.”

Izuku really did roll his eyes when the detective picked up the conversation back up. “True. How long had it been before the dorms were built?”

“On average?” Izuku bit out. He knew it was a bit rude but right now, they’re trying to back him into a corner. Nedzu, of all beings, should understand his aversion to the truth. “A few days.”

Izuku took pleasure in watching the detective tap his knee twice before looking back at Izuku. “True. Midoriya, how long has your mother neglected you?”

Izuku narrowed his eyes at them. A few days is neglect to them? Seriously? Izuku went stiff when he realized he’d said that out loud. 

“Fine. How long exactly has your mother left you alone before?” Tsukauchi said, less calm than before but still determined to get Izuku in a corner. 

“My m-mother is not neglecting me.” Izuku growled out, forgetting for a moment that he’s sitting in front of a human lie detector.

“Lie. Midoriya, how long has she left you alone for?” Tsukauchi said, not giving Izuku a moment to breathe. 

All he could focus on was the fact that he said lie. Izuku had failed. 

Now he had no clear picture of the future. He had no idea what to expect. Izuku felt his mental walls slam into place when he felt Aizawa-sensei sit down next to Izuku. 

He couldn’t do anything. 

Izuku mentally wrote his suicide note as he kept his breath steady, preparing himself to give up his dreams, his quirk, his life when he was forced into an orphanage after this. He flinched hard when Aizawa-sensei placed his hand on Izuku’s shoulder.  

The man hadn’t retracted his hand yet so Izuku turned his head to glare at the man. “Don’t pretend to care after this.” Izuku’s voice sounded foreign, even to him but he couldn’t care. 

He was too busy focusing on the fact they all had dug further into that grave he made for himself rather than helping him. 

He didn’t watch Aizawa-sensei’s eyes blow wide as he retracted his hand from Izuku’s shoulder and Tsukauchi’s eyes go wide while Nedzu grimaced at the implications of what it would mean for Izuku to give up information after fighting so hard. 

Izuku didn’t know how dull his eyes had gone when he looked up. He didn’t know how hurt the rest of them were but he couldn’t focus on anything except his breathing as he spoke, because they seemed content to force Izuku into the second option. “Fine. The longest she’s gone was a few months, almost three if you need precise numbers,” Izuku pointedly shot a glare at Tsukauchi as he continued. “Yes. Midoriya Hisashi was the one who sent me to school with bruises and burns. That happens whenever he comes home from a business trip. He’s hit me since I was five. The burns started when I was a few years older.”

“Now, are we done?” Izuku finished, glaring at the three idiots who wanted to pry for their own amusement. 

Tsukauchi cleared his throat before speaking. “True. That concludes the interview of Midoriya Izuku.” The detective shut off the recorder and looked back over to Izuku, oddly looking like the one who’d been hurt from this discussion. Izuku didn’t like it. The pity. The hurt in the man’s eyes (as if this was something that hurt him to do and not Izuku). 

“I apologize, Midoriya. I will take my leave now.” The detective said, standing and collecting his things. 

Izuku, for his part, just scoffed and rolled his eyes but nodded towards the man. 

Once the detective had left it was quiet. Izuku didn’t know what they were waiting for but if they wanted to get anything from Izuku, someone was going to have to pry harder. 

At this point, Izuku trusts the heroes in front of him but he doesn’t ever plan on extending that trust to the teacher and principal side of them. It’s why school at UA is so weird. He knows their hero personas like the back of his hand, afterall, he’s spent a ridiculous amount of time analyzing them. 

But them as teachers? Izuku never knows what to expect or how to act. They were all concerned at the beginning of the year when he blended into the background so he forced himself to stand out with his strong smiles and loud determination. He forced himself to figure out how to act sociable and extroverted so no one could question him. 

He just…never knew what would happen. 

He found that he hated it. 

Distantly, he watched Aizawa-sensei speak about his new title as a ward of UA and how that would look (the man didn’t explain his rules or expectations-just as Izuku expected). 

On some level, he registered himself nodding with his face still scrunched into a glare. He watched Aizawa-sensei’s face turn into one of pity and concern (pathetic) and spoke in soft tones. He never called Izuku a problem child and he hated it. 

He hated the false sense of security they were trying to lure him into. 

“May I make a phone call?” Izuku asked, probably interrupting something Aizawa-sensei was saying but Izuku couldn’t care less. He needed to fix this mess and only knew one person who could help him. 

“As long as it’s not mother or father, I don’t see why not.” Nedzu responded, less cheery than usual. Izuku couldn’t help but feel guilty about that but he just nodded and grabbed his phone. 

Stepping out to the hall, he opened his phone and found Yagi’s contact. 

"Young Izuku! Aren’t you supposed to be in class right now?" Yagi answered. 

"Yeah. Listen, I need your help." Izuku said distractedly. 

"With what?" Izuku was happy to note that Yagi had switched from cheery to serious. 

"Someone exposed my home life which means both of my parents will explain why they didn’t care for me. And I promise to explain all of it to you later and I really am sorry that I didn’t tell you about this but I need you to help the detective explain how I got my quirk late. I just need to make sure they stay in jail and if they were beating their kid when he was Quirkless, not enough people will care enough for a fair trial." Izuku responded breathlessly. 

Izuku listened to Yagi get a few papers around on the other end of the phone before hearing a door slam. 

"You’ve got my promise that we’ll oversee the investigation young man." Yagi said. 

Izuku could’ve cried because he knows All Might doesn’t go back on his promises. Izuku is living proof of the man’s promises. Izuku just wetly said his thanks and hung up, trusting the process in his hands.

He doesn’t know how long he stood in that hall, just resting his head back on the wall but it was long enough that he soon was granted with company he could seriously live without. 

“Oh my god. Don’t tell me you got in trouble?” Shinsou snarked, walking leisurely towards Izuku. 

Just the thought of dealing with him today after everything made Izuku want to rip his hair out, so he opted to lazily roll his head towards the other boy and roll his eyes before willing his feet to move him towards the principal’s door. 

Without having to knock, the door opened and Izuku stepped through, not giving Shinsou another glance when he closed the door behind him. 

“Sorry,” Izuku began, not caring enough to sound apologetic. “Thanks for the phone call.”

Izuku turned his attention to Aizawa-sensei, trying not to feel resentment towards the man (even though he was willing to help Shinsou with training and not Izuku himself even when he used to break his goddamn bones left and right) and spoke in the same monotone voice he’d been sporting since he caved with the detective. “Shinsou seemed to be waiting for someone outside.” 

Izuku mentally patted himself for successfully refraining from snarling out the sentence and turned towards Nedzu, content to ignore the man for the time-being. 

“Excellent! Aizawa, you may go and find Shinsou. I’ll explain everything else with Midoriya here.” Nedzu said with fake happiness. 

Honestly, Izuku was glad Nedzu could see his discomfort with the other man. He wasn’t wrong in his assumption that Izuku would gladly trust Nedzu to deal with the fallout of the investigation. He made sure to keep a wide berth from Aizawa-sensei before going to sit down in front of Nedzu, relaxing a bit when he heard the door finally close. 

“Alright Midoriya,” Nedzu started, reaching into his desk drawer and pulling a few papers out. “These are the expectations for you as a UA ward as well as the coordinating punishments served if the expectations are broken. If something isn’t detailed enough or confusing, I’ll be sure to clarify it for you.”

Izuku could nearly cry with relief when he skimmed through the papers, recognizing the official seal on the papers and started reading, relief flooding through his system as he sat with Nedzu. 

“So,” Shinsou started, still irritated at the display of hatred and annoyance that the golden boy of class 1-A had eagerly shown him today. “What are we doing today?” 

Eraserhe-- Aizawa-sensei just rubbed at his face distractedly and sighed. “We’ll be doing additional strength and weight training for the night.” 

Shinsou could’ve scoffed. They hadn’t done exclusive strength and weight training since he first started training with the man which means he was more tired than he looked or was too distracted to spar. Even when he’s not here, the golden boy still seems to get all the attention doesn’t he? 

His displeasure must have shown on his face because soon enough Era-- Aizawa-sensei frowned in his direction and started talking. “If that doesn’t interest you, we can always take a break for the night.” 

“No sensei,” Shinsou said, although he was hesitant with his next words and trying to choose carefully. “Why are you distracted enough to have me on weights tonight though?” 

Aizawa-sensei seemed to size him up before answering, sending shivers down his spine. “I’ve got a few high priority cases to deal with this week. Nothing to worry about.” 

“What did golden boy even do?” Shinsou muttered, mostly to himself but he did notice when his teacher had heard him. The man started to walk stiffer and allowed his boots to make sound when he planted his foot. 

“What.” It was not a question or concern or request. No, this was a demand filled with white-hot rage boiling and Shinsou seriously didn’t know where he messed up. 

“I just,” Shinsou started, plowing through his explanation so the rage wouldn’t be directed at him any longer. “I saw him outside the principal’s office and you said something about cases so I was just connecting dots and was wondering how he messed up but now I’m assuming he doesn’t have anything to do with the cases.” 

Aizawa-sensei just looked at him, face completely indecipherable and eyes swirling with too many emotions for Shinsou to be able to pick out one. 

“I didn’t realize you two were close enough for nicknames.” Aizawa-sensei said, presumably to himself but Shinsou couldn’t stop his anger if he tried. 

“We’re not close.” He growled out. 

“Oh?” Aizawa questioned. “Then why the nickname?” 

Shinsou just rolled his eyes. “Because that’s what he is and always has been. A golden boy.” 

Shinsou’s anger left as quickly as it appeared when his teacher glared at him. “What makes you say that?” 

Shinsou gulped and kept going because why couldn’t the teachers ever see it. “Look at him. All smiles and no worries, even when he messes up. Not to mention how perfect his quirk is for heroics…” 

“So…all of your assumptions and disapproval towards Midoriya is centered around a quirk?” Aizawa-sensei growled out. 

“Not- not just a quirk. It’s just...him!” Shinsou could feel himself getting exasperated at his teacher but he couldn’t care right now. “He just never thinks through anything and continues to get hurt with his powerful quirk but still gets praised. I just don’t understand how you don’t see it!” 

“You’re right.” Aizawa-sensei said, stopping just before they reached the entrance of the gym. “I don’t see what you see so for tonight I want you to do some research.” His teacher held his hand up when Shinsou went to argue. “This is not a punishment but you are only aware of the discrimination you’ve faced. That much is apparent. Look at other forms of discrimination because it’s important to remember not everything in this society has to do with a quirk.” 

With his last remark, Aizawa-sensei spun on his heel and walked towards the dorms and left Shinsou reeling. What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Shinsou has lived and breathed through discrimination his whole life. Of course he knows what he’s talking about.

But why was Aizawa so adamant about defending the golden boy? Was it an obligation to him as a student or was there seriously something going on? How was someone who smiled everyday and laughed with his friends and pranced around training hurting like Shinsou? That’s not possible…

is it? 

“So,” Nedzu said, much more cheerful than before as he poured the both of them some more tea.

Izuku was finally starting to relax a bit (although he refused for his walls to come down just yet - there wasn’t any punishments or expectations for emotional displays and he’s not sure if he wants to find out the hard way) and quickly found that Nedzu was an excellent partner to have conversations with. “Can you tell me how All Might managed to get on the investigation?”

See. Izuku appreciated Nedzu for genuinely sounding curious about his questions, even when they were semi-personal and blunt. He never seemed to hold it against him when Izuku poorly deflected from certain questions and was content to keep the conversation steered in a different direction. 

“Well,” Izuku didn’t know how much he could tell but judging from how All Might had gotten this teaching job, it was safe to assume Nedzu would be in on their secret. “How much do you know about his mentorship with me?”

Nedzu’s eyes seemed to gleam as he leaned forward a bit and nodded just so, almost approvingly. “I am aware of the existence of One for All, Midoriya.”

Izuku cringed but forced himself to smooth out the grimace. “Please, call me Izuku.” With Nedzu’s nod, he continued. “Then you know that I was Quirkless until the entrance exams, yes?”

Nedzu seemed to be connecting the dots with that alone.

Izuku supposed he just needed the insider’s perspective to understand why Izuku was trying to control the investigation this way. Sure, it could be seen as morally wrong to use his resources like this but if the detective really wanted to prove he would do something more than just poke at Izuku’s life and actually condemn his parents to a lifetime in a prison cell, then Izuku would provide him with the backup story and help he would need. 

When Izuku was young, he had done his share of research about Quirkless people. Nearly no laws applied to them but that also meant that no laws protected them either. There were a select few that cared for Quirkless folks (usually sympathizers) but their overall statistics were appalling. The number of hate crimes, domestic and spousal abuse or abuse/neglect in general, homelessness, unemployment, suicides all surpassed other minority groups by a large margin. Izuku knew what his life was destined to look like before All Might had come and gave him hope for the future. 

Once, a few months into their beach project, All Might had opened up about being Quirkless too and Izuku asked him through his tears why he didn’t actively help them. All Might had looked confused until Izuku asked him to look up the statistics surrounding them and went back to pushing a fridge across the sand. A few moments later, Izuku was being crushed in a bear hug by his mentor as All Might apologized for his behavior during their first meeting. He was crushed at what being realistic would mean for people like Izuku and said, proudly, “I’m glad you’ve never been one for realism, my boy” as they walked across the sand. 

After that, All Might had turned into Yagi and Midoriya into Izuku. They found a way to shuffle some of Yagi’s All Might merch salary into a monthly donation for Quirk Discrimination outreach programs and let the press run their mouths about the new development. The one thing they were able to keep under wraps was the donations Yagi had started sending to Quirkless shelters and semi-illegal clinics. They didn’t need any public praise for doing the least but Yagi had pointed out that the media tended to make everything he did as All Might sound like the thing to do. 

So it was safe to say that Izuku trusted Yagi to an extent that he didn’t think was possible. The man was obvious in his care towards Izuku (which baffled Izuku the first dozen or so times it happened) and Izuku reciprocated in the ways that he could. 

No, Izuku’s mentor would never be perfect like the media painted him out to be but that was a given. Heroes are human and everyone makes mistakes. They’re an inevitable part of life and human nature. That could be why, even when Yagi made mistakes, Izuku still cared because Yagi worked hard to figure out how to fix those mistakes when they happened. The man was genuinely kind and the pinnacle of heroism; he didn’t seem to have a bad bone in his body. 

This all being said, it wasn’t hard to figure out that Yagi (and perhaps Nedzu) were the only figures he allowed himself to trust in. He knew he had some minor trust issues in the adults surrounding him (peers too - but he’s not content talking about that can of worms right now). He also knew just how hard it was to actually trust in someone, since he hasn’t actually had that much experience in doing so. 

But, back to the matter at hand, looking at Nedzu made Izuku realize just how aware certain people were of what it meant to be Quirkless and couldn’t do much. Izuku wasn’t stupid (or maybe he was placing too much hope in Nedzu) but he could recogonize the look that was currently in the chimera’s eyes; self-loathing and anger. An interesting combination to be adorning the face of Nedzu but it was welcomed by Izuku. 

Because that meant that Nedzu knew enough about the Quirkless population to understand which laws and regulations protected them and why Izuku was adamant to have Yagi on the case for his backstory. Izuku knew his parents weren’t even aware of his quirk status until the sports festival happened so even if they didn’t get in trouble for everything that’s happened the past 12ish years, they’d still be in heaps of trouble for messing with Izuku during his time at UA. 

That was the only comfort he could give himself for now. 

“I see,” Nedzu finally responded, still seeming to be angry and annoyed at the things Izuku had implied in his statement. “Well, would you care for a game of chess or would you like to finish out your classes for the day?”

Izuku just took a deep breath and said, “Chess please” before flipping back through the expectations and requirements for living on campus and being a ward of the school. It was obvious a few of the rules had been changed slightly for wards, giving them a bit more freedom than the dorm students had. 

He did relax slightly as he read through the punishments. Virtually none of them were harsh and no one was expected to beat him back into submission. He also didn’t really know how to feel about that discovery. 

Izuku isn’t stupid. So he knows that his situation with his parents was far from okay or normal.

But he also knows that he used to be Quirkless. So most rules don’t apply to him. Or, they didn’t use to. Perhaps these rules only apply because he has a quirk now? He’s suddenly very thankful Yagi told him how important it was to keep One for All a secret.

If people knew he never naturally had a quirk, he’s not sure if they would stick to the punishments. 

Thankfully, Nedzu seemed content with Izuku’s wish to ignore any and all additional human interaction for the day and started setting up a chess board for them to play with. 

They played a long few games. Sometime in between the rounds, Lunch Rush had sent up lunch for the duo and they ate while talking about societal issues, mostly surrounding the Quirkless. Izuku was finally calming down enough not to feel the need to punt someone into the sun as soon as their voice grated against his ears. 

Nedzu only let him leave when Izuku promised that he’d be back to do this again, perhaps over the weekend so neither of them would be completely ignoring their work when they got together. So Izuku left, praying to the high heavens that people would take one look at him and understand he felt no need to speak to anyone else for the rest of the night. 

.

.

.

“I’m worthy of your apology because of the things that I have gone through?” Izuku asked lightly.

Nothing in his happy-go-lucky demeanor has changed, he didn’t hold himself differently than he had all year, but something in the tone of his voice set the other boy on edge. 

And with Shinsou’s silence came an understanding hum from Izuku, who was on the verge of overflowing with his rage.

All he had wanted to do was sleep off his rage and forget that today ever happened but, instead, Izuku got to listen to the, arguably, worst apology he’s ever listened to. The apology was filled with ignorance and perhaps confusion as well but Shinsou didn’t seem to understand what he was apologizing for just yet.

Maybe yesterday he would’ve been understanding, maybe tomorrow he could’ve excused it all. But Shinsou just had to try and apologize today.

Izuku made sure to make his point quickly as he felt himself grow tense. “I see,” Izuku said, still fighting to force that edge in his voice out and away so he didn’t sound as bitter as he felt. “I accept your apology.”

With that, Izuku walked away. His pace may have been faster but other than that, he held himself the same as every other day. 

Because people seem to underestimate how many emotions he could withhold. Yes, there was always a limit and Izuku had hit the end of his, but he had taught himself how to hold out without making his emotions other people’s problems. They saw what he needed them to see, if only to leave him alone for a few seconds so he could learn how to breathe again. 

Izuku made his way quickly towards the dorm rooms, not caring about the stunned Shinsou he had left behind and not noticing the concerned teacher he had left to watch the aftermath. 

When he made his way inside, it was all that he could do to force himself over to the stairs and ignore his classmates' calls for his attention. It made sense, seeing as how he had spent the entire school day holed up in Nedzu’s office and gave no explanation to anyone. The one person he needed to talk to seemed to be boarding himself up as well, since the rest of his friends were sitting around the dining table, studying. 

He just quickly flew up the stairs in an effort to avoid whatever reprimand Iida was planning on giving him from the couch. Izuku finally reached Bakugou’s door and loudly knocked. 

“I told you to leave me the fuck alone, extras!”

Izuku just sighed. “Katsuki.”

The other boy went completely silent from behind the door and Izuku idly wondered if this would be the thing that his oldest friend wouldn’t want to confront. Izuku knows he doesn't sound happy by any means but usually he’s better at hiding his thoughts and emotions than this. He didn’t hiss out his friend’s name or anything, no malice was written on his tongue. 

But still. There’s always that slight change in his tone that Izuku can’t ever seem to shake when he’s truly angry about something. 

So Izuku sighed and tried again. “Not mad at you, Katsuki. I just need an outlet.”

Which is completely true. Sure, it hurt that his friend was probably the one to spill the beans and say everything Izuku wished he could’ve said without prompting but it would never make him angry. Izuku knows Katsuki talks to teachers as much as Izuku does; which is to say, never. 

Both of them have been let down by most adults in their lives. Izuku knows Katsuki only trusts the opinion of his parents and a select few others. So opening up about their haunted past would surely bring back some feelings of guilt and hurt. 

Izuku had only explained it once. The first time he had gotten mad about this whole situation. They were just children. Izuku didn’t expect Kacchan to do anything other than follow the status quo. He didn’t expect that they would continue to be the childhood friends they once were. He wanted to be seen as more than just the dirt on Kacchan’s shoes, sure, but he never expected it. 

So, Izuku thinks it’s safe to say he wasn’t hurt by anything Katsuki had done to him because each and every time it happened, his oldest friend looked guilty and hurt. 

That’s more than anything Izuku could say about his mother and father. 

The door opened and suddenly Izuku was standing right in front of Katsuki, face pinched into a tighter glare than usual. 

Good. Izuku wasn’t the only one upset. 

“Deku…” Katsuki warned, obviously not liking the fact that Izuku didn’t get a spar in from foundational heroics today and Izuku intended on getting his one way or another. 

“The forest. No quirks. I just…” Izuku trailed off, hoping if anyone could understand it would be Katsuki. 

Thankfully he seemed to get the message, since Katsuki looked him up and down before closing the door and rummaging through his things, most likely trying to find a better pair of shorts. 

Soon enough, Katsuki opened the door again and the two boys walked downstairs, a heavy silence enveloping the both of them. No one bothered them as they slipped their way out of the front door. And it wasn’t past curfew yet so they could only get in trouble for sparring if they were caught. 

The walk to the forest was a quiet one. The walk to the small clearing they had found a few months ago was even more so. 

Both boys said nothing as they took off their shirts and stood facing each other, letting more tension build up than it needed to be. 

Eventually Katsuki grunted out, “Let it out.” 

Nothing in his tone was coddling. Nothing the way Katsuki had said that implied that he was dealing with an overly emotional teenager. Katsuki just spoke like he knew exactly what was running through Izuku’s mind. 

So he did. 

Every punch, jab, kick, and snarl was directly at Katsuki. Even without quirks, their spars moved quickly and viciously. Katsuki had gotten the upper hand on Izuku many times, but Izuku wouldn’t stay in one spot for too long and he knew Katsuki wouldn’t take it easy on him just so Izuku could have the win. 

So Izuku pushed himself back on the offensive and forced Katsuki to try and defend himself from the onslaught.

And Izuku felt the tears start to run down his face as he pushed harder, trying to forget that his life had been officially uprooted, no matter how much better it would be for him in the long run. 

Izuku quickly sweeped Katsuki’s feet from under him and pinned the boy down. He didn’t scream for his victory and loss. He didn’t cry out like it pained him to understand. 

He just simply whispered, more to the trees than his companion, “I can’t believe it only took a quirk.”

And Katsuki stayed silent, save for his heavy breathing.

Because even he couldn’t deny that everything good only came into Izuku’s life as soon as he had gotten that quirk. Because no one could tell Izuku things would’ve gotten better had he not gotten such a blessing that horrible day. 

So Katsuki slowly started moving his wrists upwards when Izuku’s grip loosed and Izuku hastily moved his arms to cage in Katsuki’s face instead. The two boys just stared at each other as Katsuki placed a firm hand on the back of Izuku’s hand and guided him downwards slowly, into his chest. 

Kacchan kept his hand there as Izuku cried out his frustrations and anger into the bare chest of someone he could call a brother. He clenched his fists next to Kacchan’s head and crumpled into him, content to let Kacchan sit there and let Izuku cry. 

Sometime after the tears had dried up and Izuku could only sniffle angrily and frown at himself, Kacchan took his hand off the back of Izuku’s head. He repositioned and placed his forehead on the other boy's chest and sighed, feeling so resigned and hurt and world-weary for someone who had lived such a short life. 

Eventually, the two got up from their positions and he watched as his oldest friend wiped his chest off with a random t-shirt before throwing his new one on. 

Izuku could only laugh disbelievingly as he watched it happen and listened as Kacchan called out to him. “Oi! What are you laughing at?”

Izuku only smiled (nothing like what he gives to his classmates - just the smile of someone who’s lived and breathed unspeakable things but still tries) and shook his head at him, happy for the distraction Kacchan had just provided him. 

Izuku dismissively waved a hand towards the old t-shirt Kacchan had used to wipe Izuku’s tears off of him.

It almost warmed his heart to see that it was the old t-shirt Kacchan had always used for events like this. Everytime Izuku needed to just be angry it would always end in tears and Kacchan always grumbled about his crybaby tendencies as he cleaned himself off. Without fail. 

Because Izuku couldn’t ever force himself to scream and yell about everything that’s happened to him. He couldn’t ever justify it; not when he had been on the receiving end of long-winded rants that always exposed secrets and misplaced feelings of hatred. 

So he cried.

And sometimes he hated that that’s all he could bring himself to do. But everytime, Kacchan was there to remind him that someone would miss him if he ever let that large well of hurt and anger and anguish come out. Not Kacchan himself (he was always too proud to admit such a thing - even as kids) but the other boy always told Izuku something about Auntie and Uncle when he was having a bad day.

Occasionally, he’d demand Izuku to come over that night, just so Izuku could see them and feel loved for an afternoon. 

Izuku just gathered himself and threw on his own shirt, smiling that painful smile towards Kacchan and walking back with the other boy towards their dorms. Izuku listened to Kacchan grumble about how Aunt Mitsuki was doing and what Uncle Masuru had gotten shipped to the house, just to run it back to the office. 

Eventually, Izuku’s smile turned into something fond and nostalgic as he listened to his companion complain about Aunt Mitsuki’s teasing remarks about Kacchan and his new friends. It was no surprise Auntie approved of his friend group now instead of when he used to have lackeys following his every move. 

And they walked back into the dorms silently, listening to everyone who was in the dining room eating together or others in the kitchen grabbing more food. Kacchan split off from Izuku, presumably to go find his friends or lock himself up in his room and shower. 

Izuku did the same, not wanting to ruin his mood and change his emotional state right now. He climbed up the stairs, feeling bone-dead tired on his feet and sore but lighter than he had been. Like he had taken Atlas’s place in holding up the sky without realizing it, only for someone to come along and decide to hold the sky up with him. 

That burden that constantly weighed him down wasn’t gone and Izuku didn’t expect it to be. But there was something lighter in the way he walked, perhaps uncertain, yes, but lighter. 

Once he got into his room again, he quickly showered and put on new shorts before making his way towards his desk.

Apparently Eri had come in at some point during the day and had left a card for him. In bright colors, with smiley faces on the outside, the words I love you, Dad were written in her handwriting. A bit sloppy but with obvious dedication put into the gift. 

Izuku smiled once again and he went to bed that night wondering if maybe Aizawa-sensei and the detective were right to be so nosy with Izuku’s home life. 

Afterall, he would’ve never gotten to be with his daughter properly if they had left it alone.