Chapter Text
When they arrived on the doorstep of the Uraraka home, they were both completely drenched.
“Oh you poor things!" Ochako’s mother fretted as she ushered them in. "I was worried when I saw the rain. You don’t even have an umbrella! C’mon, let’s get you dry.”
Ochako rubbed a towel through her hair as her mother, Naoko, bustled around them. “Where’s Dad?”
“He actually took the truck to the train station to pick you up so you didn’t have to walk in the rain. I guess he didn’t text you?”
“No,” Ochako laughed.
Naoko shook her head. “That man. No doubt he was wanting to surprise you. Well, I’ll give him a call in case he isn’t already on his way back. But here—“
She handed them both a set of clothes. “Why don’t you two go change into these dry clothes, and I’ll set yours to dry. There’s a chill to this summer storm.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Thank you very much,” Izuku said with a polite bow.
Naoko smiled sweetly, then stepped out to make her call.
Ochako tucked a wet lock of hair behind her ear. “You can use the bathroom here, I’ll just use my room.”
“Sounds good.”
It wasn’t really a situation he’d expected when he’d come to officially meet his girlfriend's parents—he’d dressed nicely and everything. Now he pulled off his button up and held out the large t-shirt which was obviously Ochako’s father’s. He definitely wasn’t as small as he was when he was in middle school, but the shirt was big enough to dwarf him a bit. He sighed with a shrug and pulled it over his head.
He came out to the hallway as the front door opened.
“Sorry about that, love,” he heard the man say.
“It’s fine,” Naoko laughed, taking his umbrella as he pulled off his shoes. “I gave them some clothes to change into. Just sopping wet, the both of ‘em.”
Kenichi laughed heartily. “Ah, to be young.”
Izuku stepped into the hallway, seeing that Ochako wasn’t quite done yet. So he walked up to the two of them and bowed politely. “Uh- thank you very much for the clothes, and for going out of your way to pick us up.”
Kenichi turned, an easy grin on his face. “Yeah, sure kid.”
“Welcome to our home,” Naoko smiled. Izuku was still struck by how identical she was to Ochako.
“Thank you,” Izuku replied.
Kenichi walked over and patted him on the shoulder. “Why don’t you come help me out with the grill? Go on and grab that bag of charcoal.”
“Sure!”
He followed the man out to the porch, carrying the bag on his shoulder. The rain still fell, pattering and dripping down off the awning that covered them.
“You can set it right there,” Kenichi gestured, setting down some matches and a bottle of lighter fluid.
Izuku watched quietly as Kenichi laid out the briquettes and drenched them with the liquid, then struck a match and let them burn.
“You healing up alright?” Kenichi asked suddenly. “You were in pretty rough shape.”
Izuku blinked, his hand rubbing at his elbow. “Uh- yeah, I’m good. I didn’t- I was alright.”
Kenichi’s face was somber, glancing back at him. “What you did—what you went through to help this country. What you did for my family, too.” He reached out, placing a hand on Izuku’s shoulder. “I can’t thank you enough, Deku.”
Izuku’s eyes were wide, feeling them sting a bit at the man’s words. He bit his lip and nodded. “O- of course. And I’m glad you two are alright. I had no idea at the time-“
“-That you were saving Ochako’s parents?”
He let out a light laugh. “Yeah. I should’ve, but back then…”
“I know,” he said, his eyes compassionate. ”Still, thank you.”
Sometimes Izuku forgot how much of it all was common knowledge to the public—but Ochako had made sure that his struggles were just that, on display for the world to not only see, but to empathize with. To understand. He wasn’t some immortal deity, immune to pain and injury—like All Might had been thought of before. Despite having that incredible power, he was still just a highschooler, as Ochako had said. How easily he could’ve been killed…
“That just shows how much of a hero you really are, Deku,” Kenichi said, pulling the grill open to check the charcoal. “Save anyone regardless of who it is.”
“Yeah,” Izuku scratched at his face, remembering Tenko’s crying face in his mind. “I… do my best.”
Kenichi glanced at him, a smile on his face. Izuku wasn’t entirely sure what he was thinking, but he felt more bolstered than embarrassed. It was like—he wanted to make sure this man could rely on him, thought well of him. He wanted him to know that he cared for Ochako more than he could say.
"Ochako is actually the one who gave me that name," he said, smiling at the memory. "Deku."
Kenichi sat in one of the chairs, gesturing beside him to the other. "She did, did she?"
“On our first day of school, she mistook that name, Deku, for my given name,” Izuku said, sitting beside him. “Deku was actually a name used to make fun of me, but she—when I told her that, she immediately turned it around.”
Izuku smiled, remembering the day.
“She said it sounded like, ‘do your best!’ And that sorta changed everything for me. It was actually amazing how much of a difference it made,” he looked back to Kenichi, feeling warmed. “She’s been supporting me and helping me ever since and I… Uraraka-san, you have… an amazing daughter.”
Her father looked out over the rainy cityscape, smiling. "She’s always been one of a kind. I can’t tell ya how proud I am of her. She doesn’t like me tellin' her that, gets all squirmy and such. But I’m her dad, I got a right to be proud of my kid."
Izuku watched him, then felt a touch of solemnity in his heart—his mind turning to his own father. He really didn’t think of him much, it wouldn’t make much difference anyway. But… his name was famous now, and his fight with Shigaraki and All for One had been televised. I wonder… Did he see it, too? Was… he proud…?
Not that it really mattered or changed anything. But he did wonder.
“She told us what you did for her too,” Kenichi said softly after a moment, drawing Izuku from his thoughts.
“My Ochako has always been closed off, I suppose. I really couldn’t tell you why. That’s just how she is,” he sighed. “Afraid of putting people out, of inconveniencing them…”
“Afraid to be known,” Izuku said softly.
Kenichi blinked at him, then nodded. “It’s exactly that. You sure hit the nail on the head."
"Yeah," he shrugged, then thought back to a year ago, when they’d still just been getting to know each other. How different she had seemed to him, then versus now. He really hadn’t known how to know her back then, hadn’t seen how much she hid until the sports festival. And even then, he’d been ignorant. But… to see her fear, her apprehension at even something positive, like her feelings for him, it was still something he was trying to understand.
“I’ve known that a long time now,” he continued. ”Since the sports festival. I just… I didn’t really know how to approach the issue—I didn’t know how to help her until now.”
“Well, I’m grateful you did,” Kenichi said, standing again and stepping back over to the grill. “She’s stubborn, but she’s got a good heart, and good intentions. She’s really gotten away with not having many deep connections until UA. I have wondered what it would take—to let her."
The man frowned then, looking out solemnly. "It shouldn't have been war. Letting her go, put herself at risk… as her dad, I…"
Izuku felt that weight in his heart. Of course he felt that way—to send your own kid to war… he really couldn’t imagine. And it made him feel that much more tenderness for his mother, for her enduring, if not quivering strength—something she’d definitely needed to have him as a son.
Kenichi straightened, looking at him again, that seriousness in his face now. "I may just be speaking as her father, but after everything—I just think she deserves nothing but joy in her life now."
Izuku nodded. "I think so too. I’ve thought that since the day we met. In my darkest moments, it was the thought of her smile that often kept me going, trying harder to win back that future where we could all be happy again. She has been more than a strength to me, she’s been a guiding light—a future to fight for."
Kenichi looked at him, his face soft but unreadable. “You love her, huh?”
Izuku looked up, feeling his face warm. Part of him wanted to squirm in embarrassment, but he nodded regardless, determination building within him. “I do.”
Kenichi watched him, a mild smile on his face now. Then turned back to the grill, placing the skewers on the rack.
"Pardon my curiosity," he said softly. "But can I ask why?"
Izuku blinked at him. It was such a small question for such a monumental answer.
Why do I love Ochako?
Izuku clasped his fingers together, looking down, pondering where to even start. "From the moment I met her, Ochako has been saving me. She saved me from tripping over my own feet, she went out of her way to help me, a stranger, to pass the entrance exam, at the expense of herself. She was one of my first real friends. She was always there by my side, from the beginning."
He stopped, looking out to the rain as it fell down into the streets below. He thought of how she stood on the UA building, crying out at the top of her lungs—fighting for his right to smile again.
"Ochako is such a generous friend. She gives and gives, never expecting—or even wanting—anything in return," he sighed, voice solemn. "There came a certain point where I was… aware that she held back part of herself. That she showed herself to be open when she was actually the opposite—at great expense to herself. And I just wanted her to- I want to be able to tell her— show her—"
He cut himself off, considering.
"All I want is for her to feel loved, to feel how much she means to everyone around her," he sighed as he brought a hand up to his chest. "Especially to me. And after everything she’s done, I just-" he said softly, heart full as he pondered.
"How do you thank someone for everything they do? For everything they are? For simply existing beside you?" His voice was quiet as he spoke, the words falling out of his mouth as he got lost in the thoughts. "How do you tell someone, 'You are the world to me,' 'You changed my life,' or 'You are my hero'...?"
He smiled, feeling his eyes sting as he looked down at his mangled hands. "How can I say all that and not mean 'I love you'?"
Quiet stretched between them as the rain continued to fall. Izuku felt his face flush as it dawned on him how much he'd said. He wasn’t sure what to even do, having rambled as he had to Ochako's father!
"Uh-" he stuttered, clasping his hands in embarrassment. "I mean-"
Kenichi laughed heartily, making Izuku look up in surprise.
"Oh my word, boy!" Kenichi said in his amusement. "I didn’t expect a novel!"
Izuku blushed brightly. "I- sorry, I’m pretty prone to rambling… That was… I’m sorry."
The man shook his head, smiling warmly at him. "I didn’t have many doubts to start with," Kenichi said. "Ochako is emotionally closed off enough for me to know that anyone who could get that close to her will have had to earn it. But after hearing all that—It takes a load off my mind knowing you’re the one she fell for."
Izuku blinked, then looked down, scratching at his face. He felt bolstered at the words, realizing just how much he’d wanted to impress Ochako's dad.
“So am I.”
It was then that the door slid open to reveal Ochako, her hair damp and freshly combed through, wearing fuzzy, pink pajamas. She looked adorable.
"Dad! Are you torturing my boyfriend?"
"Of course not!" Kenichi laughed boisterously.
Ochako narrowed her eyes as if she absolutely didn’t believe him. So he smiled, standing up. "We were having a good talk." Then he looked over at Kenichi with such warmth in his heart, to this wonderful father Ochako had. "Thank you."
Kenichi simply nodded, standing up as well and stepped over to the grill. "These should be done soon, so why don’t you both head inside."
She looked at him now, and she could probably see how moved he felt, so she visibly relaxed. He extended a hand which she gladly took and they walked back into the house.
After the conversation they'd had, he felt immensely more at ease with Ochako's family. The nerves almost completely subsided as he watched them together, smiles all around as they asked about school, community clean up efforts, Ochako's quirk progress, and so on.
"Ochako tells us that you love to see other people's quirks and how they work," Naoko smiled happily.
Izuku flushed, glancing at Ochako before laughing lightly. "I think it’s pretty cool. Everyone is so unique, and that really shines through in what their natural power is and what they choose to do with it."
Naoko nodded. "That makes sense. Here—" she reached out, holding the pitcher of water out to him.
He took it—and his arm nearly flung up in the air, as he’d been expecting it to weigh more. He laughed, examining the pitcher. "Zero gravity?"
"Similar," she said, touching her fingers to the pitcher again and letting it set back down to the table with its normal weight. "I can make things lighter, but not completely weightless, like Ochako can. Definitely helped in my school days. Textbooks can be heavy, ya know."
"That’s so interesting, especially considering how that manifested into Ochako's quirk," he considered the use of such a quirk. It wasn’t weaker persay, just a different manifestation of using such a force against gravity. He wondered how a further incarnation of that quirk would deepen that control—maybe if Ochako had a child, then that kid could—
He flushed for a moment, quickly putting aside all the thoughts he had about that .
"Do you know how much lighter you can make things?" he asked, drawing his attention back to Ochako's mother. "Is there a certain level you can reach in general, or is it based on each individual item you touch?"
She tapped her chin. "Hmm… I’m not really sure, actually. Maybe a ton? I’ve never bothered to measure it exactly. Most things I can make at least a little lighter. It's based on the individual object, but I couldn’t tell you specific numbers. I’ve never done so well with physics and those calculations."
He thought up a couple different ways to measure such a thing, to test those limits and understand what she was working with. If it was based on the individual objects, then that meant there must be things that can’t get any lighter before she is negating gravity entirely. If that level isn’t possible with her quirk, then surely that could be a measure of what the upper limit of effect would be-
"Deku!" Ochako laughed, poking his shoulder.
He looked up to see amusement on the faces around him. He blushed, laughing with them. "Oh, was I mumbling?"
She took his hand, nodding as she laughed.
"I’m sorry, I do get pretty fascinated." Izuku shrugged, feeling bolstered by her hand in his. "When we first started at UA, I spent the entire first night writing out pages for each of our classmates and their quirks and what I understood from the day of watching everyone—at least, what I could remember off the top of my head."
"Good memory," Kenichi said. "That’s pretty impressive, to pay that close attention and remember it all."
"I definitely added to them and edited those more over the course of getting to know everyone better," he said, then he glanced at Ochako. "I’ve had to write an entirely new section for your quirk now, after how that’s changed."
He watched her cheeks turn pink, and he melted a bit at the sight.
"Oh, that’s just- I dunno…" she laughed awkwardly, pressing a hand to her cheek. "I’m still figuring all that new stuff out."
"I know. It’s still incredible."
She continued to blush, but he just smiled, lightly squeezing her hand and letting it go to not further embarrass her.
"Dad, show him yours!" She said, and Kenichi laughed loudly.
"Sure sure," he said, then stood up and grabbed the empty chair beside where Izuku sat. He lifted it up onto its side until just one of its legs was on the ground, then he let go. Incredibly, it didn’t topple over.
Izuku stood, examining the chair with wide eyes. "Oh wow."
"I bet you can guess," Kenichi said. "Give it a shot."
He nodded. "Hmm… it’s different than Ochako's and your wife's—not determined by weight. Entirely negating balance though. Is it an alteration of an object's center of gravity?"
"Sure is," the man laughed. "See? Give it a good push."
Izuku smiled broadly, pushing the chair, almost still expecting it to toppled over, but it didn’t. It teetered and settled back on the exact point of the chair leg it had been before. "That’s so cool!"
Kenichi just grinned, then picked up and set it in its place once more. "I can do that to anything of any weight, and I’ve definitely worked on increasing the time capacity—I can make something balance like that for about an hour now, longer if it’s not at an outrageous angle like that chair was."
"I bet that helps in your construction work," Izuku said, sitting back down.
"That’s why I’ve worked so hard on it over the years. With a small crew, it's saved so much time and equipment just to touch something and make it safe and stable until we can get it secured. There’s a reason I got into construction in the first place."
"So your quirk shaped that decision?"
"Pretty much," he nodded, glancing at his wife as he took her hand. "And making ends meet took priority over the architecture degree I was working on, when we found out Ochako was coming."
Izuku couldn’t help but be amazed. He’d always wanted to be a hero, other professions had simply not held much time in his head as a possibility. How fascinating the exploration of what architecture could do when you could manipulate balance and apply it in large scale—and how useful to make it work for you to cut costs and increase safety in a construction zone. People are amazing.
"I’d have loved to see your buildings," Ochako sighed, leaning her cheek in her hand. "Your sketches look so cool."
"I dunno," Kenichi shrugged. "Going back to school now after all this time-! Nah, it’s all good, kiddo."
"Still," Ochako sighed, her shoulders sagging, and as Izuku watched her, he wondered—was this the origin of her guilt over being a burden? It likely contributed to it—her father giving up his dream career to take care of his child and family?
"I wouldn’t have changed a thing, Ochako," his smile softened. "Not one thing, ya hear? Every moment you’ve been here in our lives, I wouldn’t change a single second of it."
She bit her lip, eyes swimming, and she rubbed at her face. "Dad…"
So he laughed again, which Ochako and Naoko joined in with. Izuku took in their family of laughter and hope, and he felt beyond warmed—and beyond grateful to be accepted here. To see Ochako with her parents, especially her dad… well, it warmed him to see it in ways he hadn’t expected. Having brought up everything to her about his own dad, those emotions felt a little more raw than usual, and seeing Kenichi look at Ochako, hearing how he'd given up his dreams to be there for her… There was a touch of heartbreak within that self-centered part of him. But most of what he felt was warmth. To see the love that Ochako had grown up with was wonderful, and to be a part of this now was something he cherished beyond belief.
"I know you hate it, kid, but that’s why we're all here tonight, ya know!" Kenichi continued. "We're all here to celebrate you!"
"Nuh- no, that's-" Ochako groaned again, bowing her head into the table. "Gosh…"
Izuku smiled at her, at her parents, and the generally comfortable and cheery environment their home possessed. It was fun, and it was loving. And for a moment, he could imagine Ochako's childhood here—full of joy and laughter, despite the financial trials this family faced. The happiness outshone the struggles, he could see it.
He turned his eyes back to her and her lovely smile, and his thoughts strayed again to his vision in the rain, and he hoped… one day… for joy just like this.
"So Deku," her mother asked with a gentle smile, pulling him from his thoughts. "What kind of hero agency do you think you’ll specialize in after you graduate?"
He looked back at her, feeling that jolt of pain in his heart at her innocent question. Of course, the fading of One for All wasn’t common knowledge, and he was genuinely grateful for that, but it did make questions like this hurt.
He felt Ochako's hand on his, and it was comforting to feel her love and concern, but still… in that moment, he understood her aversion to such a spotlight.
"What kind of hero do I want to be…" he said softly, pondering.
That dream, the dream he’d longed for for his entire life… was ending. There was no way around it. To the scale of where he had been, it was simply impossible. But… he considered the people in his life, those who had guided him, taught him, helped him grow to become that hero he had been.
Why do I want to be a hero?
"I think…" he said, possibilities starting to form in his head as he thought hard, of All Might, of Aizawa, of Sir Night Eye, Gran Torino, the vestiges in his head guiding him… "I would enjoy helping others learn what it means to be a hero."
Ochako looked at him with surprise, and he smiled gently at her.
"Like… a teacher?" Naoko asked.
As he considered that, he found he wasn’t opposed to it. He struggled speaking in a public setting, so that would be challenging, but… "Maybe. I’m still considering, so I’m not sure yet. But… I know I’ve learned so much from the people around me who had the patience to teach me. Maybe I could… return that effort to the future."
"I can see that," Ochako said softly, and he looked to such tenderness in her features. "You, a teacher. If that’s the direction you wanted to go."
Izuku smiled. "Yeah?"
She nodded. "You know more about quirks than anyone I know. You just kinda—" She gestured her hands over her temples. "—just get it, ya know? Make connections, see really out there application of techniques. You’ve helped me loads, and I know I’m not the only one from our class alone."
He watched her, taking in her words, the ideas presented before him.
"You’ve got, what, fourteen hero analysis notebooks?" She asked. "Imagine what you could do with a class full of kids like us."
He was imagining. He considered her words, considered the possibilities, the direction, the fulfillment he got whenever he saw one of their classmates succeed. He thought of Eri, Kota, Katsuma, their bright futures each before them. It was a joy in itsl own right, seeing someone soar after he’d helped them—laced with the bittersweet memories of feeling the same after he’d been guided. He thought and thought.
Who would I be… as a teacher?
"I…" he started, feeling a smile on his face. "I’ll have to think about it some more."
Ochako tilted her head at him, but smiled all the same. Her fingers tightened around his, and he felt warmed again by her touch.
As he met her eyes, he considered his life, his dreams, his goals. He considered his life with her, his potential in career, and where he stood now. And he didn't feel regretful. He didn’t feel abandoned. He felt… hopeful. In a way, it was like he was standing at that start line again, getting ready to cross the line and find new walls to climb.
I’m too blessed.