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Izuku knew something was off when they were brought to one of UA’s many gyms instead of going to class. Today they were supposed to be studying for their finals. Why were they going to the gym?
He scanned his classmates wearily as they walked together. Aizawa-sensei was in front of all of them, guiding them to the gym. And with him was All Might, Present Mic, and Nedzu. His jaw ached as he clenched it. Instantly he was in analysis mode, taking in every detail that he possibly could.
All of Class 1-A is here, along with his teachers. The principle is here too, which must mean something happened. What could it be? He brought his thumb to his mouth, chewing on the nail. It was short from all his chewing, which he did when he was nervous or analyzing people’s Quirks without a journal to write in. His hands away felt too empty, so he occupied himself.
It was a habit his father hated when they lived together. He kept doing it though, partly because he couldn’t stop and partly to be petty. His father was… well… He wasn’t the best. He wasn’t the kindest person he’d ever been forced to be around, and it was a miracle that he even lived long enough to escape from him.
But back to why they were going to the gym. What could Nedzu be thinking, other than plotting Izuku’s downfall? Had he realized that Izuku’s files were falsified? But then why’d they be going to the gym instead of his office?
He stopped biting his nail abruptly. Relief washed over him. They didn’t know anything. It was impossible for them to have figured anything out. He was fine. He was safe. They didn’t know anything. They didn’t know anything.
It must have something to do with their finals, considering that they weren’t studying anymore. Did Nedzu decide against a written test and a practical? Did he change it last minute, or was all of this a logical ruse in the first place, and they were never taking a regular test to begin with?
That just left the question of what their real test would be. They stopped at the doors to the gym. Aizawa-sensei turned to them, and All Might copied him, still not used to the teaching profession, it seemed.
“Nedzu has decided to hold your finals today, instead of tomorrow like we’d initially planned.” Aizawa began, tugging at his capture weapon to loosen it. “He also decided it’d be a wonderful idea to change the test itself, so all the studying you’ve been doing was a waste of time.”
Aizawa shot a glare at Nedzu, who was perched on his shoulder. The rat just smiled slightly and shrugged.
“What can I say?” He mumbled in response. “I thought this would be an interesting test,”
Aizawa rolled his eyes, and pushed the door. “Anyway, your final exam will be taking place here.”
He gestured to the inside of the gym, where there was a single table with a small strange device sitting on it. Present Mic ran up to it as they all piled into the gym. For a moment he spent some time showing it off as if he was a model on some game show, until Aizawa shot him a pointed look and cleared his throat.
“Your final will consist of breaking out of an illusion cast by that device Present Mic is holding,” Aizawa grumbled, and seeing that everyone looked thoroughly confused, he elaborated. “This device was created by Nedzu himself to trap the target in an illusion. What the device will show you is a mystery, until you use it.”
As he spoke, Present Mic pressed the button on the side of the metal box, and the room was plunged into darkness for a moment.
Then they were all standing in a garden in mid-morning.
Aizawa grimaced at the sudden light, and All Might looked so surprised that his eyes might pop out of his head.
Present Mic turned around in a full circle, taking in the scenery around him he whistled. “This is some invention, Nedzu,” He mumbled, and the scene around them suddenly changed. An unfamiliar apartment.
“Zashi,” Aizawa mumbled, but it wasn’t really Aizawa-sensei. It was a clone, wearing a hoodie with a cat printed on it. “What the hell are you doing up so early?” Clone-Aizawa asked, yawning.
And suddenly Present Mic seemed to get sucked in the illusion. “What do you mean? It’s hardly that early, Shou!”
He gave the clock next to him a glance. “It’s 1pm!”
Clone-Aizawa just yawned again, stepping over the cat as he crossed the room. “Whatever. It’s still too early,” He grumbled. “Make me some coffee?”
“What the fuck,” Bakugou was the first to speak.
Aizawa — the real one. — ran a hand down his face and sighed. “That’s what this device does. It will do everything to immerse you in an illusion, switching to different scenarios to keep you trapped inside. It can be a memory, your lifelong dream coming true, or just a regular day, like Present Mic. We really don’t know how it works—”
“I do!” Nedzu exclaimed, with a wide grin. “I created it for this test specifically, to teach all of my students how to break out of psychological Quirks! For example, what if you ran into a villain that could show you your biggest fantasy and trapped you? What if they could show you a world of nightmares? This device can help you break out of such Quirks, so you can subdue that villain! Isn’t it interesting?”
“Very much so!” Iida exclaimed, if only to fill the silence of the room. Izuku shifted on his feet, watching as Present Mic’s cat wriggled onto his lap and purred. It could show him anything? He felt himself pale at the possibilities.
What would it show him?
“It will show the target anything and everything to keep them trapped within the simulation, but I won’t tell you how to break out of it. That spoils all the fun!”
Fun.
Izuku didn’t think this was going to be fun. He sucked in a shallow breath. This could single-handedly destroy his entire world of lies. It could show them all of his secrets that he tried so hard to keep a secret. It could show all of them that he was nothing but a villain's son. He swallowed hard.
“W-why aren’t we just taking a regular final exam?” Izuku dared to ask, feeling his hands shake. He needed to get out of this situation as soon as possible. All of his instincts — instincts that had been forced upon him from running from his father — screamed at him.
He needed to escape. He needed to run far, far away.
But UA was the only place where he was safe from him. From his father. He forced the beating of his heart to slow to a calmer level. If he wanted to wiggle his way out of this, then he needed to remain calm. He couldn’t draw attention to himself.
Nedzu just shrugged in response to his questioning. “I just thought this was much more interesting than regular tests. Why? Is there a problem Akatani?”
Shit. he immediately started to backpedal. “N-no sir,” He nervously stuck his hands in his pockets to hide the shaking. “There isn’t a problem. I was just curious is all,”
Nedzu gave him a reassuring smile. “If it seems like any of you can’t break out of the illusion we’ll disable it if necessary and allow you to take regular testing for your finals. You don’t have to worry about failing,”
Izuku nodded, feeling that the statement was directed at him.
He swallowed hard around the growing lump in his throat. He could do this. He could do this without giving himself away as an accomplice to murder. An unwilling accomplice, his mind supplied, but he worried about it nonetheless.
“I’m sure you’ll do great, Akatani!” Uraraka exclaimed with a smile, patting his back. Izuku mirrored her smile, and put his mask back on. “You’re always really good at everything!”
“Thanks Uraraka!” he replied, wiping all worry from his expression with no problem. “I’m sure you’ll do great too,”
She smiled at him and they all returned to watching Present Mic talking adamantly with Clone-Aizawa. Someone had long since taken the device from his hands, so he didn’t break it on accident.
“As I was saying, Shinsou’s Quirk was pretty interesting, right? I can’t believe the Hero Commission won’t allow us to change the Entrance Exam to something more fair for those without flashy Quirk— Wait.”
His expression clouded with confusion.
And the illusion broke very suddenly, and Present Mic looked around in confusion.
“Huh. That was really weird?” he remarked, before seeming to remember why he was here and what he’d been doing previously. “That thing is… weird,” He settled on, seeming to struggle to describe it.
Nedzu grinned, and Izuku felt sick to his stomach.
“I personally don’t approve of using this device,” Aizawa grumbled. “It’s a breach of privacy,”
Nedzu waved his hand in dismissal. “We’ll stop it if anything becomes too personal,”
Aizawa scowled. “I still, for the record, hate this idea,”
“Noted,” Nedzu responded. “Now who wants to go first!”
Kirishima was the first to go, jumping up excitedly. He grasped the device and entered the strange simulation.
Izuku watched wearily, especially when Bakugou, who was second to last, went. He grabbed the device, and Izuku almost called out to tell him not to. But that would look suspicious.
They would all question it. He would look suspicious.
So he just let Bakugou take the device.
His simulation started off so innocently with him and Bakugou as children. They were at his mother’s house, playing a video game on Izuku’s console. They played for a while, before his mother popped her head inside the room.
“Dinner’s ready boys!” She exclaimed, with a wide smile. A smile that had long since faded from his memory.
The simulation soured from there almost instantly. They were eating peacefully, and just as they finished, the doorbell rang. Inko got up from her seat and went to the door. In the simulation, Bakugou was pudgy and young, and talking adamantly to Clone-Izuku.
“Kacchan we’re going to be the best hero duo ever!”
Izuku’s heart ached. Because it never happened. It never would happen.
“Oh…” came the horrified murmur of Inko. “H-Hisashi…?”
Everything crumbled away, to a different scene. There were police sirens first, before the scene materialized fully. Bakugou and his parents were standing right outside of police tape, at his mother’s house. Izuku knew he shouldn’t look. He shouldn’t look at his mother’s dead body, but he did it anyway. Bakugou was being shielded by his mother, but he’d already seen it. He was in tears.
And Clone-Izuku stood next to Hisashi Midoriya, as his father spoke to the policeman.
Bakugou’s mouth twisted as he called out to him. “Deku!”
But Clone-Izuku didn’t even look up. “C’mon Izuku,” His father said gently, sounding choked with emotion. “Let’s go. You’ll be excited to go to America,”
The scene ended there, and Bakugou’s test officially became the longest one so far as another began.
The locker room, but it was empty. Or at least, Bakugou had thought it was at the time. He walked through the locker room looking for something. Had he forgotten something?
Izuku watched on curiously. “This is the boy’s locker room,” Aizawa state flatly, “We shouldn’t view this,”
“Just one more second,” Nedzu told him. “I’m really curious,”
Bakugou passed a section of lockers, and another before halting very suddenly. There was the sound of someone getting dressed. Bakugou looked confused as to why someone was in the locker room and curious at the same time. He peeked at them.
It was Izuku himself, seemingly the last person to come out of the locker room if the faint chatter was anything to go by.
Izuku felt his face heat up. “When did this happen!?” He squeaked out incredulously, trying his hardest to resist the urge to cover his face.
Bakugou’s eyes widened, but only because Izuku’s back was to him. His back, which was littered with extensive scars. And burns that were shaped like handprints. On the center of his back. On the back of his neck. On his shoulders.
And then Bakugou left the locker room as silently as possible, with his eyes blown wide. And he was muttering!
“What the fuck kind of scars are those?!” He whispered to himself, horrified. “What the fuck—”
And then the illusion shattered, as Bakugou somehow broke out of the simulation. It was utterly silent, and Bakugou acted as if nothing happened.
There was an awkward lull where nothing happened. “Well—” Nedzu mumbled awkwardly, “Akatani, you’re last,”
“R-right…”
“You can tell him no, Akatani,” Aizawa stated, shooting a glare over at the rat god. “I knew something like this would happen,”
“N-no… It’s fine really,” Izuku told him, with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I don’t have anything to hide,”
Liar.
He went up to the device and activated it. (The music I listened to writing the rest of this one-shot)
“Take it.” Hisashi snaps.
His mother is bleeding everywhere. There’s blood on the walls, and it’s coating his hands. He shakes his head in confusion. “T-take wh-what?” He sobs.
The knife in Hisashi’s hands doesn’t go unnoticed. Blood drips from the blade, onto the floor. But Izuku’s just a kid. He can’t do anything. He can only cry, tears obscuring his vision. Momma is dying. She reaches for him weakly, her lips parting.
“Baby…” She croaks out with a smile that’s too peaceful for what’s happening. Izuku’s eyes are wide and horrified.
“Take her Quirk. You can feel it, can't you little Izuku?” Hisashi smiles, and it’s predatory. “You’re my son. You can feel it just beneath your skin, hungry to reach out and take her Quirk.”
Izuku’s eyes are shining with tears. “I can’t— I can’t—”
“TAKE HER QUIRK IZUKU!”
Momma reaches out for him, and Izuku falls to his knees, falling in the pool of blood beneath Momma is growing. She tries to sit up to whisper something in his ear, but Hisashi is screaming at him. To just take it. To rip it from her, even if it means killing her in the process.
She croaks something out that he almost doesn’t catch.
“Don’t forget, baby…” She says, as Izuku feels his hands warm. Something slithers in his bones and settles there. His hands glow. “There’s a hero in you Izuku. Don’t let him take that away. Never let him steal that part of you,”
But he didn’t feel like one. He doesn’t feel like a Hero.
He’s older now. His mother has been dead for a long time, and his father isn’t who he says he is. Izuku knows he’s someone very, very dangerous.
A mechanical inhale cuts through the air, and Izuku jumps a foot in the air. His father is standing in the kitchen with his life support mask on. He can see the scar tissue on his face, and the smile that’s too wide, too cruel, and terrifying.
Izuku can hear his own heart beating in his chest. He can hear how loud his swallow is, and he knows Hisashi can smell his fear from here.
“My boy, it’s your birthday isn’t it?” He says gently, “Come here. I have a gift,”
At those words, Izuku wraps his arms around himself and shakes his head. “N-no, thank you…”
His voice is so meek and shaky. He hates himself for it. “I d-don’t w-w-w-w—”
“Deep breathes, Izuku. You know I hate that stutter… Almost as annoying as your mumbling,”
“I don’t want it,” he manages, taking a step back. “I don’t want s-someone else’s Quirk,”
“Oh, my dear naive Izuku.” All for One responds, crossing the distance between them. “I didn’t say you had a choice.”
His father places both hands on his shoulders and pushes. His skin peels. His muscles tear. His bones snap. Fire boils in his blood, and in an instant he’s vomiting on the ground.
“If you’re curious, the Quirk is called Battle Prowess.” All for One says, looking at the vomit in disgust. “Happy Birthday, my boy.”
He was too afraid to move. Too afraid to breathe. He hates this room.
“Izuku,” The desk. The chair. The TV in front of him. The scent of blood. His own blood. The sound of life support, the beeping and mechanical breathing. “You know the drill. Sit down.”
He was sitting on the chair suddenly, hyperventilating. Fear clogged his airways, as his father took his time walking around the desk. A black notebook and a pencil sat on the desk now, but he didn’t reach for them. Izuku knew not to reach for them. His back was littered with scars from the last time.
His father stopped right behind him and put his hands on the back of the chair, his knuckles digging into Izuku’s back. His entire body tensed. His father leaned down to whisper in his ear, and a remote materialized from his hand. A video began to play. “Tell me what you see, my boy,” All for One smiled. “You have one chance. Sixty seconds. Tell me their Quirks. Tell me how to kill them ,"
And he did. The words fall out of his mouth with no resistance as he clutches the sides of the desk until his hands turn white. Fear fuels everything. He said everything very fast.
“The first man is Stain the Hero Killer. Based on the evidence in this video I’d say his Quirk has something to do with paralyzing his victims. Activation Requirement might be blood? He’s always licking his blade. The tactic I would use to take him down would be to avoid getting hit with his knives, and steal his Quirk. The second is the Sludge Villain. His Quirk is nothing special. He can make his body turn into sludge that is impossible to get out of. The slide is probably immune to physical attacks too, but he can use it to take over someone’s body and use their Quirk once they’re dead. I wouldn’t take his Quirk though—”
A timer beeped, and Izuku blinked back tears as All for One chuckled, and ran a hand through his hair. “Good job,”
He felt disgusting every time his father touched him. “But unfortunately…” he spoke very slowly, as if he was going to enjoy what he was about to say. “You failed. You didn’t tell me how to kill the Sludge villain Izuku.”
He can feel himself go very, very pale. His hands are shaking and his lungs shudder with each breath. Izuku’s panicking. The room is spinning, spinning, spinning.
All for One’s hands tighten and tug harshly on his hair. “It’s your fault I do this, my boy. You know that right? I don’t like punishing you.”
His face is a mess of snot and tears. His very bones are trembling under skin. He nods.
“Say it,”
“I-It’s my fault. I-I’m sorry,” The last part comes out as a pathetic whine.
All for One’s smile is crooked as he walks across the room, and turns on the light from the outside. The door shuts behind him, and the lock slides and clicks audibly. There’s no way to unlock it from the inside, Izuku knows.
The white, sterile walls of the room are harsh and unrelenting. The lights are too bright and it reveals too much about the room. The scratch marks along the door, marred with forgotten blood. The puddles of brown stains a constant reminder of his failures.
For a second, the entire scene shatters, but he blinks.
The room is too bright. It burns.
“Can’t you see? You belong to me, Izuku. My heart breaks for you every time you fail. I don’t like hurting you.”
Blood stains the floor. His back is bleeding, his arms are bleeding. He’s dying, dying, dying.
It hurts. Then he starts to think of escaping. He never acts on it. Izuku doesn’t let himself dream of it.
A hand wraps around his neck, and something snaps.
Izuku hardly ever sleeps, between his online schooling and his father’s teaching but when he does, it’s never enough.
Tonight is no different. There are analysis notebooks sitting on his desk, sitting in bookshelves and crowding every surface of his room except for his bed. He stirs from sleep very suddenly, hearing the familiar mechanical intake of breath.
His heart is in his throat already, and he sits up.
“Izuku,”
Something heavy thuds onto the ground, and he can hear someone breathing heavily. The lights flick on and Izuku’s eyes widen. Stain in laying on the ground, bleeding profusely. There’s too much blood, and Izuku already knows what’s about to happen.
“Take it from him, Izuku.”
“W-What…?” Stain asks dumbly, as Izuku is quick to obey, his new bruises that caress his cheeks are fresh. A punishment. He can’t fail again.
He grabs Stain’s wrist and pulls. The Quirk neatly slots itself next to Minor Telekinesis, Speed Reading and Battle Prowess. Bloodcurdle is the Quirk of a murderer . And yet Izuku takes it with trembling hands.
All for One ruffles his hair. “Good boy.”
And then All for One leaves him with the body, and Izuku weeps. He sobs like a baby over Chizome’s cold, dead body. So much like his mothers.
“I’m sorry,” He whispers, rocking back and forth. “I’m sorry,”
He's been thinking about his escape plan for years. Izuku’s been perfecting it. Using the analysis he’d been forced to learn, he devised a plan. His father was always gone on the weekends for the most part, and he was going to finally fucking leave.
He even had four journals dedicated to it, coded so that his father couldn’t read them.
It was happening tonight. “Tonight.” He promised himself.
————
“IZUKUUUUU!” The ground trembles with the force of his fathers screaming. Izuku keeps running, his knives glinting in the moonlight. He deftly dodges a portal meant to bring him back home.
Father’s League of Villains are running after him, but his father is slower. He never bothered to get a speed Quirk. Izuku knew because he’d sifted through his fathers Quirks before. That’s how he ended up with a Minor Agility Quirk.
He jumps rooftop to rooftop, Battle Prowess and Minor Agility activated. He dodges a bullet aimed for his legs. A knife is flying from his hand, embedding itself in his target.
Izuku drops from the rooftop, activating Shock Absorption to cushion his fall. There’s a villain that pops out in front of him, but he’s in ribbons before Izuku realizes that he just killed someone.
Tears obscure his vision. Blood coats his hands, warm and sticky. Too familiar. He pushes it out of his mind. He just focuses on running.
But he skids to a halt, his heart in his throat. Standing feet from him is his father. “Izuku…” He begins, but Izuku’s face twists into something ugly.
He pulls the gun from his belt and points it at his own temple. All for One falters. “Stay away from me!” He screams, “Let me go,”
All for One looks frozen, with the way he just stands there in mute horror. He clicks the safety off. “D-don’t! you don’t know what you’re doing, my boy,”
“I know exactly what I’m doing,” He snaps. “You’re going to let me go. You’re not going to follow me, and I’m going back to Japan.”
All for One looks pissed, but he nods slowly. “If that’s what you want—”
“It is.” He mutters, “I’m going to become a Hero, and you’re not going to stop me!”
“They won’t ever accept you, Izuku.” He says. “They’ll find out who you really are. They’ll find out you’re my son one way or another. And then they’ll kill you,”
“I don’t care,” Izuku replies softly, before desperation takes over his voice. “Just let me go!”
It comes out tortured and ragged. He hears his bones snapping before he can do anything.
“You’ll face me in battle one day,” A voice says, and Izuku can hardly hear it over the screaming. “Will you be able to defeat me?”
“I’ll die trying,” He thinks he says, before everything goes black.
————
He wakes up somewhere unfamiliar. It's an apartment that's too empty, and he’s laying on the couch. Light is filtering through the blinds, and Izuku sits up abruptly and clutches his chest.
He scrambles to the nearest window, to see Japan staring back at him. “What…?” he mumbles to himself. “But...how?!”
Izuku turns swiftly and grabs his phone? Wait. This phone is new. It’s not his. He drops it like it’s burning. “Bugged… this entire place is bugged,”
Izuku, being the moron he is, grabs the cash sitting on the counter of the impeccably clean apartment, and stuffs it in his bright yellow backpack. He leaves the phone on the coffee table, and doesn’t touch the letter sitting next to it.
He doesn’t even grab the clothes that his father probably gathered for him.
“I need to go somewhere safe,” He tells himself, as he runs out of the apartment. The sun is bright against his skin, but through the haze of terror he hardly notices. It doesn’t cross his mind to think that this is the first time he’s been outside in the sun for a long, long time.
He just runs, and runs.
He doesn’t stop until he’s at an absolute dump of a beach. Later he would learn it was Dagobah Beach. He stops to catch his breath, and takes a moment to check himself over.
There are no microscopic mics placed on him, or tracking devices. He breathes a sigh of relief.
And then he dives head first into planning. “I need to go somewhere safe,” He tells himself. “And what’s the safest place in Japan besides Tartarus?”
He snaps his fingers and brightens. “UA!” He answers his own question. And then— “Oh, that… that’s a terribly smart idea…”
And the illusion shatters completely.
One second he’s standing in Dagobah Beach, and in the next he’s back at UA. The gym is utterly silent, and he goes completely still. As still as a statue as he waits for them to kill him. Nothing happens.
“Problem Child,”
The voice is calm, gentle, and caring. So unlike Aizawa, it has him turning around very slowly. The room is empty save for him and Aizawa. The device used in the exam is shattered on the floor, as if Aizawa broke it. A trap. That’s what this is, isn’t it? He can’t look up from his shoes, too terrified to speak. Too terrified to do anything but freeze.
There’s a weight on his head suddenly that has him flinching. It shatters everything. “P-please,” he takes a shuddering breath, and he hiccups. Izuku knows he’s shaking, and on the verge of tears, if he’s not crying already without noticing. “Please d-d-don’t—”
“Don’t kill me,” Izuku chokes out, and it feels like he’s dying already, grabbing onto Aizawa’s tracksuit desperately. His hands are shaking. He can hardly hear anything over the sound of his heart pumping in his chest. “I’ll— I’ll do a-anything. I have in-information— please please—”
The hand on his head runs through his curls, and Aizawa finally speaks. It’s broken and understanding. “You’re not dying, kid. However—” Izuku tenses at his murderous tone, and Aizawa just pulls him closer in response. “Fucking Nedzu might need a coffin once I’m through with him.”
He tries to laugh, but it comes out as a sob instead. “I have questions, Problem Child, but most of them can wait.” Aizawa continues after a moment, holding him close as Izuku comes down from his terror. “The most important one right now is where you’re staying.”
It gives him pause. He almost blue screened. “I’m uhh,” He has nothing to say. He’s homeless. “Um…”
“I thought as much.” Aizawa responded. “When was the last time you ate something? Slept in a bed?”
“I um, huh?” Izuku mumbled, pulling away. “Why does it matter?”
“Your father may be a villain, but you're just a kid, Izuku.” Aizawa crosses his arms and gives him a stern look. Izuku is surprised to hear his real name come out of his teachers mouth. “As soon as your simulation began I sent everyone out, so they don’t know much of the details. I knew something like this would happen—”
“It’s— um, not your fault, Aizawa-sensei.” Izuku mumbled.
“It is ,” His teacher tells him, nearly growling. “I didn’t stop Nedzu, so I’m held accountable for what just happened. Don’t worry though—” He cracks his knuckles, and his red flash with the use of his Quirk. “—I’ll fix it,”
“N-no!” Izuku exclaims, utterly terrified to see what a fight between Aizawa and Nedzu would look like. “You don’t have to— It’s—”
Aizawa took a deep breath. “Fine. But he’s apologizing, and you’re coming home with me, Problem Child,”
Izuku, once again, froze. “I’m fine, really—”
“You won’t win an argument with me,” Aizawa told him, with a scary smirk. “You’re going to live with me under my protection from your obviously terrifying father. You’re going to eat and you’re going to sleep in a bed .”
Izuku opens his mouth to say something, but he doesn’t even know what he’s going to say. So he closes it and probably gives Aizawa the most starry eyed look against his own consent.
He hates that he can trust Aizawa this much. They leave the gym, with Izuku holding onto the end of Aizawa’s capture weapon. Aizawa doesn’t seem to mind. At all.
Once outside the gym however, he’s bombarded with his classmates exclamations of horror and worry. Before anyone can get near him though, Aizawa glares at all of them.
“C’mon Mic, we’re going home and we’re taking Problem Child with us.”
Present Mic doesn’t even hesitate to skip over. “Okaay Shou!” He gives Izuku a gentle smile. “You ready to meet our cat, Izuku?”
He finds it strange that everyone is calling him by his first name. He nods suddenly, relieved that Present Mic is choosing to ignore the elephant in the room for now. He glances over his shoulder at Bakugou, and the blond glares at him.
He wasn’t looking forward to that conversation. The three of them turn to leave, and as they do so, Aizawa’s face splits into a wide grin. “Oh? And Nedzu?”
The rat god looks terrified.
“You’re dead to me. Don’t speak to me, or my new son ever again unless it’s to apologize.”
“Aren’t you going to ask me about it?” Izuku asks timidly as Aizawa and Yamada force him to sit down for dinner.
Aizawa looks up from his papers that he’s grading, and Yamada tries his best to pretend he’s not choking on his chicken.
His hands are trembling underneath the table, and he’s wondering why he even brought it up in the first place—
“No,” Aizawa tells him after a moment. “I definitely have questions, but I think it’s too early to unpack all that kid. However, if you ever want to talk about what happened to you, what was done to you against your will—” He says all of this firmly, as if to cement it in Izuku’s mind that it wasn’t his fault. “Then I'm always here for you. We can talk about it when you’re ready.”
Izuku bursts into tears, and he’s suddenly embraced by his new dads.
"Oh, and before I forget." Aizawa puts both hands on either side of his face. "If your father ever shows his face, I'll kill him. They'll never find his body."