Chapter Text
The alert indicating that mail had arrived caused confusion in the house. Usually, all the mail arrives on the same day, but definitely not today.
A few minutes after receiving the notification, Hitoshi enters with a letter in hand. The only ones who know their address are friends and relatives, but why would any of them send a letter instead of an email?
“It's for Izuku.” He explains, reading the sender. “It was sent from... Tartarus?” Izuku and Shouta froze hearing that, but Hitoshi was still focused on the letter, so he didn’t notice. “Who’s Midoriya Hisashi?" He looks up, and his confusion morphs into concern when he sees Izuku’s face. “Izuku?”
Izuku practically jumps on top of him, grabbing the letter with trembling hands. He stares at it as if it had personally offended him.
“Why now?” Izuku asks no one in particular, still not tearing his eyes off the letter.
“Five years.” Zuku mumbles.
“Five. Fucking. Years.” Kuzu curses. “Didn’t he already mess our life enough?”
“Izuku?” Shouta’s voice finally brought Izuku’s focus back to reality. He looked up and saw his dad’s worried expression. “You don’t need to read, Izuku. You don’t owe him anything.”
Izuku nodded and looked back to the letter. Kuzu's hand itched with the urge to simply burn the damn letter. But something was stopping him. No matter how much he wanted to ignore and destroy it, he couldn't.
After almost half an hour of just looking at the letter, without the courage to either open it or destroy it, Izuku gave up. Izuku gave up, and after making an excuse and saying they were fine, they went to their room.
As soon as they entered, Izuku put the letter on the nightstand and jumped into bed. A few seconds later, Pablo came in and silently jumped onto their lap. Izuku simply hugged the cat, who began to purr, and neither of them said a single word.
Izuku only left the room when his father came in to call him to eat and then immediately returned. That night, neither Zuku nor Kuzu could sleep. Every time Zuku closed his eyes, his mind conjured up the image of his dead mother in that chair. Every time Kuzu closed his eyes, his mind conjured up the image of Hisashi in front of him, ready to hurt them again.
It's stupid. It has been five years since that fateful night. Izuku encountered Hisashi. They faced their monster and won. Hisashi is now locked up in Tartarus and will never be allowed to leave.
So why is a single card enough to have such an effect on them? They didn't even read the letter yet, and it's like they're back to being that quirkless child hiding under the bed, trying to stifle their crying in the hope that Hisashi won't find them.
They faced their monster and won. So why does he still control their lives? Why are they still afraid of him?
The next day was not much better than the day before. Izuku did what they do best when something upset them. They hid it behind their smile and cheerfulness.
Not that it helped much. They managed to fool Hitoshi, who let out a relieved sigh the next day when he saw Izuku back to “normal.” But their Dad, that's another story.
Shouta knows them too well to be fooled. That is why he kept Izuku close during all his classes that day. He made it a point to change the lesson schedule of the day to include Izuku as much as possible. Izuku obviously realized what his Dad was trying to do and gave him a grateful smile.
That night was also sleepless.
It was only during the third sleepless night, after much more coffee than was healthy or even safe for a teenager, that Izuku had an epiphany. The truth is that they never really faced Hisashi. Yes, they fought, and Izuku won. They almost killed the monster, but Izuku never saw him again after that. Thinking about their biological father became a taboo for them. Come to think of it, even in therapy, they had never mentioned Hisashi.
Izuku never gave it much thought. They honestly thought they had gotten over the trauma and moved on. But the truth is that they just ran away. They never visited their mom's grave, either.
It was four in the morning, and even Hitoshi had lost the battle against insomnia and was sleeping in his room when Izuku sat down on the sofa with the letter he had left on the nightstand for the last three days. Pablo, ever loyal, was curled up on the arm of the couch next to Izuku, apparently asleep but with one ear up, alert for any sign of distress from Izuku.
They heard the door open but did not look away from the letter. Four in the morning is the time for Shouta's patrol to end. The familiar feeling of a scarf being placed around his neck was what finally drew a reaction from them. Izuku looked up to see Shouta facing him with concern in his eyes.
“I guess in the end I never really got over the past did I?” Kuzu asked smiling, then he looked back to the letter. “Do you remember what you said to us that night? When we were about to kill Hisashi?” Shouta nodded.
“I said I won’t love any less regardless of your decision.” He said. “And I still mean it. No matter what you chose to do, I won’t love you any less.”
Izuku looked at him again, smiling.
“You saved us.” Zuku said, with tears spilling from his eyes. “From him, and from ourselves. We said we wouldn’t ever trust an adult again, but you made us want to trust you.” He raised his left hand, and Shouta didn’t hesitate to hold it. “We are tired of running away and living scared of him.”
“But we are still afraid of him.” Kuzu confessed. “Just the thought of opening this letter makes our hands tremble.”
“Help us?” Zuku asked softly.
Shouta nodded, and without any more words, he sat down and put his hands over Izuku’s to help ground him. Then they opened the letter together. Izuku takes a deep breath and starts reading it.
Hello, brat. You must be thinking about how and why am I writing to you.
The how is simple, prisoners have the right to send letters.
As for why... who knows? I guess I just wanted to know how you were doing. It's been five years since you left me here. Your old man misses you. Remember what the old days were like when you lived with me? But ever since you got a "new Dad," you have forgotten about me. It even seems like you don't love me anymore.
But that's ridiculous, isn't it? Why would you hate me? Just because of the scars I caused you? The burns? Your mother? Know that her death was a tragedy for me too. Don't believe me? Just because I killed her doesn't mean I didn't love her. But a letter is not the place to talk about her. She deserved better. And since the heroes stole my only souvenir from her, I have nothing to remind myself of her.
Anyway, why don't you answer that letter? We can reconnect after all these years apart. There is so much I could teach you. After all, I remember that night as if it were yesterday. Your bloodlust is like mine. You just need to find your trophy.
Think about my offer, son.
Love, Daddy.
As soon as he finished reading, Izuku's hands burst into purple flames, incinerating the letter. Shouta barely had time to let go of his hands to avoid a burn, but he didn't mention it, simply activating erasure to stop the flames before Izuku could hurt himself again. Then he wrapped Izuku in an embrace and brought them closer.
In an instant, Zuku was sobbing desperately in his chest while Kuzu ranted non-stop.
“He’s wrong! He’s wrong! He’s wrong! We are nothing like him. We aren’t. We can’t be.” Kuzu kept saying. “Please, we can’t be like him. We’re not like him. I know we aren’t.”
Shouta was worried. Izuku had never had a panic attack this bad before. The techniques that he usually uses to bring them back are not working this time.
“Izuku. Look at me, please.” Shouta heard from behind him and looked up to see Hitoshi there, worriedly looking at Izuku. “C’mon, Izuku. Look at me, please.” Izuku raised his head, still crying, to look at Hitoshi. “That’s it. Can you answer me?”
Izuku nodded.
“I-I-I c-can.” Zuku stuttered.
“Okay.” Kuzu was a bit more eloquent.
Then their face blanked as Hitoshi’s quirk caught them.
“Alright. Now both of you. Calm down, and follow Aizawa’s breathing.” Hitoshi commanded. Shouta nodded at him, then glanced back to Izuku.
“Alright, Problem Children. Follow my breathing.” He said and started a breathing pattern, showing Izuku how to breathe properly, and Izuku followed to the letter. Hitoshi’s quirk is a lifesaver.
It took a few minutes until Izuku's breathing finally returned to normal, then Hitoshi dropped his control. As soon as he was back, Zuku turned a wobbly smile to Hitoshi.
“Thanks, Toshi.”
“Don’t mention, Bunny.” Hitoshi replied. “I feel like I’m intruding here. So I’ll go back to my room, but if you need me again, just call.” Then he left before they could answer.
Izuku's past was never meant to be a secret. Shouta knows that they were not trying to hide it. It is simply something too painful for his children to remember. But it seems that even five years were not enough to heal this wound.
After Hitoshi left, Izuku was silent for a few minutes until a pair of blue eyes turned to Shouta with an expression that made his heartbreak into a million pieces.
“Dad, are we really like him?” He asked so softly that Shouta almost didn’t hear him. Like he was afraid of Shouta’s response. And he really was.
Shouta’s response was to bring him into another embrace. He put his head on Izuku’s shoulder and whispered in his ear.
“You’re nothing like that monster, Izuku.” He said softly but firmly. “And you’ll never be. You are Aizawa Izuku. My son and one of the best heroes I ever got to work with. Do you understand?”
Izuku nodded and then gave Shouta a smile. A few seconds later, their eyes closed, and they fell asleep. This time without nightmares.
Shouta smiled, seeing his kid, who had not been able to sleep for three days, finally falling asleep. Being very careful not to wake them up and ignoring the pain in his joints - Shut up, he's not old - he carried Izuku into the room and carefully tucked him into bed.
After that, he went to Hitoshi's room and explained what had happened. It's not a secret, and Hitoshi deserves to know.
The next day, everyone was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. Shouta emailed Nedzu, briefly explaining the situation and informing him that they would not be going today. The mouse simply replied with a " ٩ʕ◕౪◕ʔو. " and nothing else, so he assumed everything was fine.
Izuku slept until well afternoon. When they finally woke up, Shouta was starting to prepare dinner. Zuku, without saying anything, went into the kitchen and began helping him cook. Shouta did not comment, recognizing his thoughtful expression. As he moved in practiced steps, his lips moved without letting any sound escape, a clear sign of an internal conversation between them.
It was only when dinner was almost ready that Izuku finally said something. But it was definitely not something Shouta expected to hear, especially not after what happened yesterday.
“Dad, it's time we put an end to this once and for all.” Kuzu said firmly. “We refuse to keep fearing him.”
“What do you want to do?” Shouta asked.
“To face our demons and get answers.” Zuku explained.
Then they steeled their expression.
“We will talk to him. Face to face.” They said together.
Which means that they want to go to Tartarus to visit him. And well, Shouta cannot say that he is not worried. But most of all, he is proud of them.