Chapter Text
The day that Izuku got his quirk was one that Inko Midoriya would remember for the rest of her life, if only because of the events that followed after.
She had taken Izuku and Katsuki out to the local park to play, an activity that both boys demanded on a daily basis. If allowed, they would probably spend every waking moment together, perfectly content in the other's presence. Even though Katsuki’s quirk had come in only a week after his birthday, and Izuku was nearly eight months past his own with no signs of it coming in, the two were inseparable. Some of the other parents tried to push Inko to take her son to a quirk specialist, to see if there was any tangible reason that his quirk had yet to come in. Fielding all of their concerns was far easier than having to explain that she had lied about Izuku’s birthday to everyone in their lives.
As it turns out, stealing a lab-grown baby from your evil villain mastermind boss and getting away with it required a good deal of lying to everyone you have ever known, and everyone that you will ever meet. The first was a name. Her son couldn’t be a Shirakumo, and making him a Midoriya had felt… wrong. So, after a short visit to a shady underground broker, Shirakumo Izuku became Akumo Izuku, adopted son of Inko and Hisashi Midoriya.
The next had been his birthday. She needed as much separation between Izuku and the test subject he had been born to be as she could master, so she had easily put his birthday down as a year older than what it was. Or what she thought he was? Izuku had been “born” with the body of a toddler; her best guess was that he had been around 2 years old. Making him the same age as her best friend's son had been a calculated, easy move. Having her son be a year younger than his peers was a tough decision, but ultimately she hoped that he would be smart enough to pass for a particularly small child and nothing more.
Two tiny changes that she was trusting to keep her son safe. Such a fragile safety net, but it was the only thing she had thought to do. And, until the day his quirk manifested, it had worked. Sure, Hisashi hadn’t been exactly thrilled to come home from work and find Inko holding a tiny bundle of joy in their living room without any notice, but he had respected her decision without much complaint. He had even accepted her quitting her job and moving into a completely different apartment across town with minimal complaint. He had been perfectly reasonable and accommodating, and more importantly, she knew that he loved their son just as much as she did.
It was impossible not to, really. Izuku was so full of joy and life, from the moment she saw him. He was always smiling, babbling happily and laughing at anything that struck his fancy. Every day that she looked into his smiling face, every time his little voice called out for ‘mama,’ she was so grateful for her choice. But every night as she tucked him into bed, as she tucked a piece of his poofy hair behind his ears and watched him peacefully resting, she was haunted by the visions of what his life could be if anyone ever found out where he came from.
Working for the king of the underworld had not been an option at her school's job fair. Really, it was her own fault she ended up there. In the modern era, infertility was, for the most part, a thing of the past. However, she had been born one of the few women whose quirk factor messed with her biology just enough to make her infertile in a way that science just couldn't fix. Becoming a geneticist, with a major in fertility and women's health, and a minor in quirk science, she could have gone on to do all kinds of prestigious, meaningful work. If her motivations had been anything other than selfish, if her husband had been anyone other than a villain, maybe she would have.
Instead, when her husband's boss found out about her work regarding genetic quirk transmissions and had offered her a job that was, well, frankly far too good to refuse, she had accepted. Even knowing that Hisashi had a… less-than-ideal career, she assumed that her work would be largely theoretical. By the time she was presented with her first ‘project’ and the real-life, living (sort of), breathing (kind of) person attached to it, well. It had been too late for Midoriya Inko to become anything other than a villain, and it had been far too late for Shirakumo Oboro to be anything other than an experiment.
When her experiments had eventually led to an actually living, actually breathing toddler, she had abruptly remembered why she had done all of this in the first place. Why she had gone into genetics, why she had learned everything she could about fertility and quirk factors. At the end of the day, all she wanted was to be a mother. So, she had faked a lab accident, kidnapped a genetically-engineered child and gone on her merry way. She wasn’t stupid enough to think that she would never be found out; she wasn’t naive enough to imagine that they would be safe forever. But all she wanted was to be a mother, if only for a little while.
When Izuku’s quirk came in, it was the reckoning of all of her past mistakes all at once. When she heard the bright peals of laughter that belonged to her son, and she saw the tiny, green-haired boy squealing with joy as he floated mid-air on what could only be a cloud- she knew that her time would be coming to a close sooner rather than later.
She hadn’t been able to stop him from showing Hisashi. He knew immediately; of course he did. He worked so much closer with All for One than she did; he knew who Kurogiri used to be, and more importantly, he knew what her own project with him had been. He knew that the boy that he had accepted into his life, that he had loved as his own son for years, was the very thing that All for One had commanded Inko to create. Her son wasn’t a Nomu. Not like Kurogiri, not really. But he was something that All for One would consider his. And Hisashi knew the consequences of stealing from the man.
It wasn’t a surprise when he came home one day, not too long after Izuku’s quirk came in and started to pack a bag. It was a little surprising to hear that he had leveraged his connections to find a group in America willing to take him in with no questions asked. It was more surprising to hear that he hadn’t secured a spot for her or Izuku to join him.
The speed at which her husband packed up and left his entire life behind him should have been a warning for Inko. She should have seen how easily the man who she knew loved her and Izuku was able to give them up as a sign. Maybe she was being optimistic; maybe she was being willfully ignorant. Maybe she just loved her son too much to abandon him the same way Hisashi had abandoned them.
Because oh, did she love her son. Inko had loved Hisashi; she always would. But Izuku? Inko already had, and would give anything for her precious son. He was worth every moment of paranoia, every cent spent on protections, on false documents. He was worth the stress of moving houses every six months; he was worth the sleepless nights and the constant fear.
Inko loved her son. She would do anything for him. Even, as it turned out, letting him go.
Dropping him off at the Bakugos’ house in the dead of night, with only his favourite yellow backpack and an oversized, green hoodie that matched his hair, was easy. Pushing him into the door past a sleepy Mitsuki with hushed, vague explanations was easy.
Finding another child, the same size as Izuku, stealing them away, dying their hair, hearing them cry, and knowing she was the cause of it all was hard.
Inevitably getting captured was worse. Watching the villains who took them kill the child they thought was her son to punish her broke her.
The only thing that made it okay was the knowledge that Izuku would be safe. They thought they had found him. They thought he was dead, and that was the best- the only protection she could offer him.
In the end, dying was the hardest thing of all. She knew she deserved it. In all her life, Izuku was the only good thing she had ever done. She had helped turn people into mindless Nomu. She had helped create Izuku, and had given All for One the knowledge he needed to ensure quirks were passed down to children. She had stolen, lied, and cheated her way through life to keep her son safe. She had kidnapped an innocent child, and that child had died because of her. Inko Midoriya would not be remembered as a good person. And she didn’t deserve it, really; she didn’t. If she could be remembered for anything, she hoped with every fibre of her being that it would be Izuku.
Her son, who was so good. Who filled her days with light and laughter, who loved her even though she was the monster his precious heroes fought against.
If Inko could be remembered for loving Izuku, maybe dying wouldn't be so hard afterall.