Chapter Text
The day Izuku was discharged from the hospital felt like the first day he’d ever really been outside. Given hand-me-down jeans, shirt, and jacket from Aizawa’s son Shinsou. Most of the bandaging he was sporting earlier was thankfully gone. Leaving his only remaining issue to be his slow-to-heal shoulder, that didn’t take the full healing effect as it should have. It would be a minor inconvenience until it finished on its own. Izuku could handle it.
Izuku was walked out the front doors by Aizawa into a decent March day. Almost noon. Sun bright and warm and a chill in the air. The world felt… lighter. It was a strange feeling. Especially being out without a hood up to hide his hair. Without it he just felt exposed to everything. Out in the open with no reason to hide or disappear.
Right outside the hospital was Inko. She greeted Aizawa warmly and drew Izuku into a brief hug. Letting him go and smiling happily at him as Aizawa started speaking.
“So you agreed with the housing arrangements?” he asked. Inko nodded with a soft, yet reserved, smile.
“Yes, I talked with Toshi about it and we both agreed that it was best,” she answered with a sigh. Crossing one arm under her chest and putting a cheek in her other hand as she did so. Her tone was something akin to begrudgingly accepting terms put out for her.
“Housing?” Izuku asked quietly. He was looking between the two curiously. Aizawa looked at him with a soft comfort on his face, not exactly a smile but it was there.
“We’ve talked and agreed that you’ll be switching between Inko’s home and my apartment every week. Purely for your own health.”
Izuku’s face scrunched in question. What the fuck does switching houses have to do with his health? He’d much rather just stay with his mom to make sure she was safe. Aizawa seemed to catch onto his thoughts.
“It’s to keep track of improvements and how you’re adjusting. You’ll see your mother regularly, while Yamada and I can help where need-be. It’s only until you’ve adjusted to living out here after everything that’s happened and we can make sure you don’t get hurt in the process.” Izuku raised his eyebrow and shifted weight to his other foot. At least he was getting to see his mother regularly. Maybe this housing situation was part of the program? It’d make sense.
“As much as I want to have you home- there’s still some things in the apartment we need to fix. And the bed in your room is too small,” Inko started, “and moving things around is difficult with our work schedules.”
“So you’ll be starting with me.”
Izuku look between the two. He really wanted to stay with his mom. He hadn’t seen her in so long, aside from hospital visits, and he could tell this situation pained both adults. Maybe because they both knew who he’d want to stay with if given the choice. But if there wasn’t space for him yet he understood- wait.
“Our?” Izuku asked, almost hesitantly. Inko brightened.
“Oh! I remarried a few years ago to Toshinori, you’ll get to meet him when you stay. I think you two would get along. He’s currently at work.”
Aizawa… rolled his eyes. It wasn’t annoyed or sarcastic but more- knowing. Why did he? What did he know?
Izuku’s mind flashed back to the photos Hisashi used as a threat. The tall blond man walking with Inko. The bright smile on her face when the two were clearly talking. Maybe that was Toshinori. Ink certainly looked happy when talking about him. He couldn’t be so bad if he made her happy, right? Thoughts of a new step-dad were shaken off as the three started walking down the street.
Apparently a lunch was in order. For cheap food- real food - it was good . Inko talked about things Izuku was happy to listen to. Common life that he missed out on, but not overwhelming him with too many things. Her work, Bakugo Mitsuki- an old friend Izuku knew at one point, Toshinori, things like that.
When it was time to part ways Inko gave a soft and oddly comforting farewell and a tight hug. Making sure Aizawa had her phone number as a just-in-case before she left for a shift at work. Almost seeming to tear herself away.
Izuku and Aizawa watched her walk away until the crowd swallowed her. Aizawa assured Izuku that she was safe, under watch by local heroes. He trusted Aizawa to not lie to him about something so important to him.
----
“Tests,” Izuku said flatly as they got off the train, working through the crowd headed for the hero’s apartment. Aizawa shrugged with his hands in his jeans’ pockets.
“They won’t take long. New term starts in the middle of April. It’s almost the middle of March. We have to make sure you’re up to bat academically. Program or not your grades are important and you have to keep up with your peers. Consider yourself lucky you only have to take the recommended students evaluation.”
Aizawa watched Izuku look both annoyed and interested. Mulling over the new information. Since he got off the painkillers his expressions got harder to read- but the interest was clear as day. “So what else am I required to do for this?”
“Therapy, for one.”
“We already talked to the doctor about the physical-”
“ Mental therapy.” Izuku scrunched his nose at this. “There’s a teacher on campus- Hounddog- who’s qualified and licensed to practice. He’s a counselor for many students and he’s agreed to be part of the program to help you.”
Izuku stuffed his hands in his jacket’s pockets and glanced away. There was discomfort in his face but there wasn’t anything Aizawa could really do about it. Requirements were requirements. “It’s required , Izuku. No skipping.”
“... fine.”
It didn’t sound moody or resistant. But more hesitant about the idea of opening up to someone he didn’t know. Aizawa had faith in his co-worker to do his job and help the kid… and probably not be as loud as he normally would be any other time.
The apartment was on the fifth floor in a decent complex. Residents were mostly families and it tended to be quiet on this floor. Aizawa led the way to his front door and found it unlocked. Opening it revealed the sound of running. Aizawa immediately stuck his foot and knee in the crack and made a tsk sound. Causing Izuku to visibly jump at the reflex.
Aizawa reached in and hooked his arm under the would-be escape artist. Pushing the door open and pulling the cat closer to his chest. Izuku blinked.
“A cat?”
“We have three.”
Aizawa gestured for Izuku to walk inside first and he did. Suddenly looking more than nervous. The other two cats weren’t as social as the tan tabby- Maron- trying to climb to Aizawa’s shoulder as he walked inside and shut the front door.
Izuku was awkwardly standing as Aizawa slipped out of his shoes and dropped the cat on the ground.
“You have a pair there,” Aizawa gestured to a pair of slippers on the step. Izuku knelt down and started to untie his shoes and put the slippers on. As he did Aizawa pulled his keys from his pocket and dropped them in a catch-bowl on the thin hall table. He found Hitoshi’s house keys- stuck on an old U.A lanyard and paired with keychains- already there.
Izuku was standing wordlessly as Maron wrapped around his legs and meowed for attention.
“That’s Maron. Fluff ball and Reo are probably in Shinsou’s room.”
“Fluffball?” Izuku echoed with a quiet snort right after. Aizawa caught the tail-end of amusement in his smile before the kid knelt down and let Maron sniff his hand.
“I didn’t name him.”
Aizawa, with Izuku cautiously following along, gave Izuku the basic layout of the apartment.
To the exact left once in the hall was the kitchen doorway. The hall made a right a few feet ahead that led to another hall. The guest room at the direct end, bathroom on the right, and Hitoshi’s room on the left. Right after the kitchen the place opened up to the living room and the dining table. Farther left was the master bedroom and bathroom. The apartment wasn’t small but it wasn’t too big. It was meant to house a small family.
Aizawa showed Izuku where he’d be staying. The guest room was converted from a temporary use and storage room to the kid’s room. Cardboard boxes unable to be moved were stacked in the closet to take up less space.
The room was small- but nothing small like that prison cell in the base. The walls were a normal tan, the window not small but not the biggest he’d ever seen. The sill white, framed by dark blue curtains, and the ceiling flat. The bed was a regular twin and pushed into the corner. The foot of the bed under the window. Dark blue blanket over it and a single grey pillow on top. An old desk placed to the immediate left with an old rolling chair pushed in. A tear-away calendar sitting on it showing the date. Something to help with the time passing.
Pushed against the wall and facing the end of the bed was a tall plain dresser. A dressed filled with some of Hitoshi’s older clothes that they had been planning on donating a while ago and never got around to it. Newly washed and put away so Izuku had something to wear until time could be spared for properly getting clothes. On top, sitting in as neat a row as Hizashi could manage, were unmarked empty notebooks.
Right beside the closet- which stood in the far corner on the right wall straight from the door- was a tall mirror. Unhooked to the wall and just leaning against it. It was plain, the furniture was old to a degree, and it needed redecorating to fit a teenager’s style. But it was the best they could offer without completely overwhelming the kid.
Izuku had walked into the room and looked it over while Aizawa waited in the doorway. Leaning on the frame with his arms crossed to gauge the kid’s reaction. Hitoshi’s door- right beside him- was closed. He was probably studying for his exam next week with his headphones in. Izuku was looking at the notebooks and now took to staring out the window. Which was cracked slightly to air it out after cleaning it the other day.
“You good, kid?”
Izuku turned to face him, eyes staying on the window a second longer as he moved. His head tilted and wearing an expression Aizawa couldn’t read too well.
“I- yeah.”
Aizawa made a humming sound and went to say something when he heard mumbling and footsteps in Hitoshi’s room. The door cracked open and Aizawa made eye contact with a sleepy-eyed Shinsou. Headphones sitting around his neck playing soft music.
The two cats that were stuck in his room darted out. Reo, now a white blur, raced down the hallway into the living room. The grey Fluffball ran into izuku’s room and lept onto the bed. Curling in the patch of sunlight hitting the end of it.
“Hey dad,” Hitoshi greeted while opening the door wider. Then the teen’s eyes targeted the open guest door.
--
The open guest door really only meant one thing. That Izuku kid was finally here. They had spent a whole day moving things around to accomodate someone for more than just a weekend and no one else had business being in there afterwards.
Shouta and Hizashi had sat his down just three days ago and proposed the idea of housing Izuku every other week. Adjustment, they said, only until he properly adjusts to everything. It’s safe . That's the thing they pushed the most. Izuku, the Rabbit as the media had titled him, wasn’t a threat. It was laughable but there wasn’t much in the way of arguing against it.
Shouta was clearly attached. It was in his eyes. And Hitoshi could honestly relate to Izuku in that one way. So a chance was in order if Shouta was willing to temporarily house a villain . Former or not. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be somewhat reluctant about it.
“Ah.” was the only thing Hitoshi could say. It didn’t sound distasteful to him. But the downward pull of Shouta’s lips was a tell-tale that the hero could tell Hitoshi’s opinion without him having to say it.
“Izuku,” Shouta said with a glance in the room. A quick ‘ come here ’ gesture with his head later and Hitoshi got a look at the Rabbit without his mask.
It was a kid his age- shorter and thinner. Dwarfed in the old jacket. But other than that Hitoshi was taken back only a bit. The scars on his face- the one on his neck and falling under the neckline of his shirt looked odd. Hands stuffed in his pockets. And a mess of dark green curly hair falling in his face over tired green eyes and a mess of freckles.
“This is Hitoshi. My son.”
Izuku glanced from Shouta to Hitoshi with a flat expression. Scanning Hitoshi up and down like he had done to Izuku a second before. He gave a wordless nod as a greeting. Hitoshi put his hands in his pockets and nodded back.
A phone rang, startling the short silence. Shouta pulled his phone, sighed, and said something about Nedzu before turning and walking farther into the apartment to talk. Leaving Izuku and Hitoshi on their own. The meeting was, by far, very awkward. But Hizashi asked for him to at least try and find common ground. So he’d honor that simple request and talk to someone who clearly shared his discomfort.
“So,” Hitoshi started, “rehab, huh?”
Izuku nodded. “That’s what they’re calling it…” Izuku glanced down at Hitoshi’s shirt. An old U.A. one he stole from Shouta. “Are you a student-”
“I'm studying for the entrance exam.” Izuku’s eyes seemed to brighten at this. Something akin to- astonishment? Something like that. His demeanor relaxed slightly.
“What’s your Quirk?” Izuku asked. His voice a slightly higher level than before. Hitoshi raised an eyebrow.
“Mind control.”
Hitoshi was expecting a negative reaction, much like the ones he’s gotten before his dads ever found him- and the ones he still got in school. Instead Izuku’s eyes only brightened even more .
“That’s so cool ,” was what really threw Hitoshi off. “It's practical in the field. You could diffuse hostage situations or make someone turn themselves in or even help interrogations if your Quirk allows it.” This boy devolved into muttering as thoughts swam over his face. His hands out of his pockets and wringing themselves as if he was itching to do something. Write, maybe? He didn’t miss the lines over his hands. Hitoshi only stared at his face, screwed up in thought.
Izuku must’ve caught onto this because he stopped talking immediately and any sort of excitement faded just as quick. Looking nervous again. Mumbling an apology.
“You don’t think it’s like- villainous?” Of all people Hitoshi somehow thought the villain would think of it that way. Not immediately fire off good uses for it. Though it was definitely an appreciated rant. Izuku’s head tilted and his voice was now soft again.
“I… I don’t think Quirks can be bad unless you like…. Make them.”
There was something else implied with make them that Hitoshi wasn’t catching. But there was some sort of guilt in his eyes. That was one thing he could read easily.
--
Aizawa looked back into the hallway to see Izuku looking somewhat guilty and serious and Hitoshi looking off-put. Izuku staring like he just said something somewhat intense and waiting for a response. The other boy not really knowing how .
“I’m… gonna go study,” Hitoshi said after a few quiet moments. The boy’s door closed and Izuku looked puzzled. Aizawa watched Izuku glanced around, catch Aizawa nod at him, and closed the door to settle in. Then he got back to his conversation with Nedzu. Coordinating test dates.
----
Izuku closed the door softly and turned to face the rest of ‘his’ room. Left alone- aside form the cat sleeping on the end of the bed- and not really knowing what to do now. He stared at the cat as his thoughts went over everything.
Hitoshi. Shinsou Hitoshi. He didn’t seem like a bad kid. He was taller and probably on the quiet side. He didn’t really seem to like Izuku’s reaction to his quirk. Or- was he uncomfortable? He looked really tired though. It looked so much like Aizawa that it was surprising. Was Hitoshi his biological child? No… the hair and eyes were wrong…
Either way Aizawa wasn’t lying about having a family. This was already proven true because Yamada and Tensei both talked about a Shinsou before. And Yamada was married. Though his purpose of being in the Dire was a lie. Thankfully a lie, he thought. Was it bad to say that it made his final decision feel right? Someone was bound to be angry with him if he said it out loud but…
Izuku shook his head and looked around again. He spotted the mirror and decided that- with the bandages off- he could assess the damage. He took hesitant steps towards it until he stood before the glass.
He looked… exhausted. Hair a mess. A few new scars compared to the last time he looked in a mirror. His left jawline, over his nose, two through his right eyebrow. The one on the end longer- it was the new one. A cut under his left eye and the temple above it had a faded traces of one, too.
Every scar he could see meant he survived nine years of Hell and he still didn’t believe it. It didn’t… it didn’t feel like nine. It felt like longer. He didn’t feel fifteen. He felt older. So much older.
Izuku frowned and took off his jacket. Letting it fall to the floor as he looked over his arms. His scarred left hand. The lines criss-crossing over his fingers. Gashes and scratches over it. The patchwork mess of old and new burns. Reds, pinks, browns, mixed with white lines and barely any uninjured skin on that side. The burn crawled up his neck over the neckline of his shirt. A shirt he hesitantly took off and left hang from his right hand.
His chest was a mess. The left side burned, too. Over his left shoulder and across his chest. Though the right wasn’t as extensive as his arm. If there was too much damage there he couldn’t write out those analysis. He couldn’t be as proficient with a weapon if his dominant hand wasn’t working, right? The right side of his neck had two tiny little marks. The prongs from the shock box. The center of electric lines scatters around them.
Then he prepared himself for what he knew his back was decorated with. At the time he forgot about it. He was too focused on the pain being caused than their stupid fucking tradition. He knew what was there but was still unprepared. He turned around and then craned his neck to look into the mirror at what was there.
More burns. Some new, most so, so old and fading. Ancient lines and gashes became the backdrop to the newer ‘masterpiece’ Kora and Yukio had healed and hurt him enough to permanently remind him. Lines crossed each other to frame the four characters carved down from the shoulder blades to just below the middle of his back.
TRAITOR.
Izuku reached back and gently touched the top character. Feeling raised skin for a moment before frowning. It was real. He was real. But standing in a pro’s apartment in clothes that weren't his in a bedroom with a flat ceiling. He didn’t feel like it was actually true.
He stared for another few minutes before he felt sick just looking at it and pulled his shirt back on. The thing on the bed moved and caught his attention instead. It was the cat. Lifting their head and yawning wide before staring Izuku down with bright yellow eyes.
Curiously Izuku crossed the room and sat on the floor next to the cat. Holding his hand for the cat to sniff and then rub their head on. The collar read Fluffball. A bell rang as it hit the small metal tag. Izuku smiled as he pet the fluff.
“Hiya,” he aid quietly. Bending an arm to rest on the top of the bed and letting his cheek rest against it as he scratched behind Fluffball’s ear. The cat purring and flipping to lay on her back, head in his hand. “You’re cute.”
Izuku smiled as the cat switched from cute to biting his hand. Going from complacent to playful in seconds that had Izuku smiling and playing along.
----
“Izuku?” Hizashi had called from the kitchen at around six o’clock that evening. A door opened down the hall and- Hizashi didn’t even hear the kid’s footsteps but he was suddenly in the doorway. Fluffball, the grey traitor, curled in his arms while the boy just stared.
Hizashi smiled at him. “Wanna help with dinner?”
Izuku looked at the counter Hizashi was standing at. The small one that separated the living area and the kitchen. Plastic bags scatters over it holding the ingredients for that night’s dinner. And the plastic cutting board and knife hizashi was standing in over. There were cabinets above the long stretch of missing wall acting as a sort of window.
The boy silently nodded, put Fluffball down- where she rolled over on her back and begged for more attention- and walked over. “Ah- hands,” Hizashi reminded before going to finish the pepper he was cutting. Izuku disappeared- the sink ran- and he walked back over with a rag to dry a few minutes later. Just as Hizashi set down a cutting knife.
“We’re making curry- that alright?” Izuku silently nodded, “think you can take over cutting stuff for me?”
Hizashi looked over with a comforting look. Hopefully it conveyed that Izuku had the full right to say no. It was alright if he either wanted to watch or go back to his room until it was done. Izuku looked between the cutting board and Hizashi’s hands before slowly nodding.
Hizashi smiled and stepped aside to get a pot from a cupboard, getting various things from the fridge and sitting it by the stove. When he had everything for the rice cooker up and set for when he needed it he glanced back at Izuku… the boy was completely frozen. His right hand- the one with the knife- shaking.
-
What the fuck am I supposed to do ? Was the only thought running repeatedly through Izuku’s head as he stared at the bell pepper under his left hand and the shaking knife in his right. Why did he agree to do this? He doesn’t know how to cook fucking pasta let alone cut up peppers. He could do it but what if he did it wrong? He’d probably piss someone off. Yamada might not really care but what if he did? Should he just admit he doesn’t know how? Is that acceptable? Can he just openly admit he knows nothing? It’s his job to-
“Need help, listener?”
Yamada snapped Izuku from his thoughts and he jumped slightly. Focus on your surroundings more . Izuku looked at the knife and nodded quietly. Refusing to look at the hero’s face. Yamada went to get a different cutting board and a new knife. Setting up beside Izuku.
Izuku intently watched Yamada cut up a different pepper, slowly and carefully. Izuku eventually taking up his own slow pace mirroring the actions. It went like that for everything that needed to be cut until it was all done and divided out. Yamada smiled once the job was finished.
“Great job!” Izuku’s head tilted slightly at the praise and he hesitantly smiled back. Only getting Yamada to smile wider. “Now!” Izuku watched Yamada move around the kitchen. Starting up the actual cooking. He looked around at the quiet apartment. The TV was running as background noise.
“Where’s Aizawa?”
“Probably outside training with Hitoshi.”
Izuku went quiet again and leaned back against the counter. Arms crossed and not really knowing how to help or what to do with himself. He was… uncomfortable. The heroes’ apartment was so… domestic . No threat. A few cats. He spent the last few hours staring and a ceiling and petting a cat not knowing what to do.
There was nothing to do. Not sure how anyone would react to him taking up note-taking heroes again so he didn’t. Not sitting there waiting for the buzzing of his pager for a new job or having to analyze a hero for a report to Hisashi. Not wondering if Hisashi would point out some mistake or broken rule and react. The anxiety of what to expect was so different from before- he didn’t know what to expect. Couldn’t know what to expect. It was… it was boring . And he wasn’t quite sure what to make of that discovery.
“Whatcha’ thinkin’ about kiddo?” Yamada said absently, unthreatening. Open ended and able to be shut down. Or- was he just trying to talk because it was so quiet? Izuku stared at him and buried any sort of suspicious expression down deep. He didn’t know Yamada as much as he knew Aizawa. Scratch that- he knew Aizawa only a little more than he knew Yamada. But there was still that calm air that seemed to sit around most of the heroes he’d met out of combat. And it was trusting that air that led him to where he was in the first place- wasn’t it?
Izuku’s only answer was to shrug. Yamada didn’t give him a look. Or any sort of disappointed tone. He only gave a humming reply to acknowledge the lack-of-response and let the silence sit again.
… Izuku was pretty sure he had some sort of thought about that reaction- but Fluffball biting his ankle pretty much stole it. Izuku smiled and moved to sit on the floor and pet her. Ignoring the green eyes that glanced at him ever so often between tasks.
----
Katsuki didn't quite know how to react to this. These few sentences in the middle of story recaps. The same story that's been buzzing the media since the press got the light to release it. The magazine in his hand, the article- now a few days old- reading back to him the source of his anger, was shaking. He was shaking.
The article covered the nation-wide raids of gang bases, the Silver Dire, over a week ago. And this one was talking about the high-horses running the group and heir court sentences. Those bastards. The name of the boss- Hisashi- meant nothing to him. That bastard was a distant memory. Midoriya mattered more. Izuku caused him the most trouble. The Rabbit.
That fucking- Katsuki threw the magazine across the room and it hit the wall. It was late- he couldn't go blowing things up unless he wanted that old hag to shout at him for waking her up. But Izuku... did Inko know her son was that shitty of a person? Katsuki remembered how upset Inko was when Hisashi got custody. She was devastated she was when he was gone. How she only started recovering from it shortly before Toshinori. Izuku never even called her. Not once!
And now he comes back as a villain? A killer? Katsuki growled and ran his hands through his hair. He, unlike most every big-shot in that group- had no known court date. No known punishments. Not even a fucking picture to out his existence to every person in Japan. You know what? He thought, that shitty nerd doesn't even need me thinking about him. He'd rot in prison before I ever see him in person anyway.
And somehow that line of self comfort didn't feel like it was going to be true.