Chapter Text
There were a lot of things in Midoriya Inko’s life which were supposed to happen and didn’t and there were a lot of things which were not supposed to happen and did.
For example, a newly married husband with a new-born child was not supposed to run off with a pretty waitress. And, if such a thing did happen, he was supposed to continue paying child support past Izuku’s fourth year, after a brief phone call to inform him of his son’s quirklessness.
Supposed to being the operative words.
And, of course, new mothers were supposed to love their child, cherish them above all else, but...how could she?
How could she, when her only son looked at her with big green eyes so full of love and trust that it strangled her with responsibility? How could she, when her only son had to be the reason her husband had left, because it certainly couldn’t be her fault, could it?
Of course not.
Wives weren’t supposed to be the reason their husbands abandoned them after all.
Of course, wives were also not supposed to cheat on said husbands, but that’s neither here nor there.
And mothers were not supposed to throw noisy parties that drowned out the wails of a baby and made the neighbours bang on the wall.
Mothers were supposed to make sure their babies were fed on time and washed on time and that the injuries they got were treated and didn’t leave angry scars on young skin.
Midoriya Inko knew this.
Which is why Midoriya Inko knew she wasn’t really cut out to be a mother.
Just like she knew you weren’t supposed to leave a one-year-old alone in the bath with nothing but a rubber duck and some bubble soap, but...Izuku was a smart kid, he’d figure it out.
And he did. Eventually.
She knew you were supposed to teach your two-year-old how to talk, but Izuku was a smart kid, he’d figure it out.
And he did. Eventually.
She knew you weren’t supposed to let a three-year old use the stove, but Izuku was a smart kid, he’d figure it out.
And he did. Eventually.
Of course, your four-year-old was supposed to have a quirk, so, really, who wasn’t holding up their end of the bargain here?
Izuku was a smart kid, he’d figure it out.
And he did. Eventually.
Just like he figured out how to write and read and make his own (and his mother’s) food and clean up after himself (and his mother) and take care of the burns he got from using the stove.
Just like he figured out how to curb his mumbling and not cry when he walked on aching feet because his shoes were too small and how to hide the new bruises and burn marks that started to show once Kacchan learned he was quirkless.
Just like he figured out how to be quiet around his house, walking on silent feet, never speaking, barely breathing, because Midoriya Inko didn’t like to be disturbed.
Midoriya Inko knew she wasn’t supposed to take her not-quite seven-year-old child to the nearest (and sketchiest) orphanage (that wouldn’t ask uncomfortable questions) and leave him standing on the curb out front with nothing but the clothes he stood in and a backpack full of his belongings.
Midoriya Inko knew this.
But Izuku was a smart kid, he’d figure it out.
And he did. Eventually.
Just like he figured out everything else.