Archive of Our Own

We are the product of love we do not receive.

Song lyrics floated around Izuku’s head, lighting a fire he couldn’t remember burned bright within his bones. A fire he’d forgotten existed. A fire he never wanted to accept or acknowledge. This was the fire his father used to burn him, the raging hate that his own mother looked at him with every single day since his quirkless diagnosis. Izuku tried for years to swallow it down, bite it back like bitter medicine while sick in bed. But he couldn’t bite it back anymore. He couldn’t keep choking back the words seared into his throat. No one could see them, but he could feel them digging into his skin from the inside out. 

Wetness filled his palms, fists so tight his nails cut his hands. The pain felt so good, it grounded him back to the Earth. The only thing left was the pain. Emptiness devoured him. The numbness he felt every day was slowly driving him off a cliff he wasn’t sure he could save himself from. 

Izuku was falling apart, and no one could see it. 

No one cared. 

A train blaring its horn as it whizzed by the station startled Izuku back to reality with a gasp. He stumbled back from the yellow line of the train platform, his toes just over the edge, mere inches from being pulled to his death. The music thudding in his ears through his noise-cancelling headphones kept him from hearing his own choking breaths. Izuku pressed a hand to his chest and wheezed for a few minutes. He almost…he almost did it. His body almost moved, jumped.

Three am on a Saturday morning meant Izuku was alone on the train platform. There would be no one to stop him. That had been the point. He never imagined his own body would stop him. 

Izuku looked down at his shaking, bloody hands. 

It wasn’t fair. 

This wasn’t fair.

NONE OF THIS WAS FAIR!

His mother shouldn’t hate him. She shouldn’t hit him. She shouldn’t starve him. She shouldn’t scream and throw things when she can't stand to look at his face. His father shouldn’t have left scars on his body. His father shouldn’t have broken his bones. He shouldn’t have left because of Izuku’s quirk status. Izuku’s parents should love him. They should support him. 

That’s what parents do, right?

That’s what every movie and tv show told him; parents love and protect their children. Katsuki’s parents loved him. They gave him presents on his birthday and made him special lunches for school. They told him he would make a great hero. 

Izuku had never been told he could be a hero. 

Instead, Inko called him a villain, a waste of space, a waste of skin. She told him he would grow up to be nothing more than a leech on society, a criminal just to survive because no one would hire him or help him. 

“You know what you are, don’t you?” Inko snapped. “You’re the leech that drained me dry. You shouldn’t’ve been born. You can’t be anything in this world without a quirk.”

She was right, of course. Izuku had been denied so many opportunities he overqualified for, all because he was under-qualified in one area; he lacked a quirk. He’d missed out on school trips, summer camps, training courses, even advanced courses he had the grades for.  There was nothing more disappointing than knowing he could easily beat those tests but they never gave him the chance to try. No one ever gave him the chance to try because he didn’t have a quirk.

Izuku couldn’t succeed in a world based around a power scale he didn’t even register on. 

He tried. Oh - he tried. He’d been training himself every day since he was eight years old. When he turned fourteen, he took a whole summer and cleaned off Dagobah beach all by himself. He drug every piece of scrap, trash, and appliances with no help outside of his bare hands and whatever he could find on the beach. He stacked it all up and the garbage men collected it all, thanking him every time they came by. Izuku had never been thanked for anything before that. He spent every free moment he had in the local community center to use their gym equipment, at least, he did, until their weights no longer went high enough to present a challenge. 

At sixteen, Izuku no longer had physical bullies within his age group, his peers. They were too afraid Izuku would fight back, too afraid that he could. It didn’t matter if Izuku had never once protected himself in his life. He’d only ever tried to protect those in the same position as him. But that didn’t stop his mother’s abuse. Izuku desperately wanted to fight back. He wanted to put a stop to all of it. But if he did - he’d just get in trouble. A quirkless kid defending himself against his legal guardian/parent? Absolutely not. He would be arrested for beating up his mother, even if it was self defense. He’d get expelled for fighting if he ever showed any sign of fighting back against his classmates in school. 

All of that is what led Izuku to be standing on an empty train platform at three am on the Saturday before the last week of Middle School. Hero course entrance exams for UA High were today. Sadly, Izuku already had denial letters from most of the best high schools in the country. He spent the night walking through the city, debating if he should even try the UA High hero course entrance exam. At some point, the desire to make the emptiness stop overtook him, and he wandered down to the train platform closest to his house, the one he rode every morning to school. 

The next train pulled into the station. The doors opened. Izuku checked the number and stepped inside. This one would take him to the station a block from UA High. Izuku gripped the hold bar beside him as the train pulled out of the station with no one else aboard. 

“Little early for school, isn’t it, kid?” The conductor’s voice crackled on the PA system. Izuku smirked. “Well, no business of mine. Good luck in your studies today.”

Yeah - good luck. Izuku offered his best attempt at a smile towards one of the train cameras. The train picked up a little speed. Izuku flipped his music back on, having no memory of turning it off. These days, he can't get by without music to soothe his soul and keep him calm. That raging fire in his stomach was taking over and he had no other outlet. Since he was either invisible or in trouble, most of the adults in his life ignored the headphones. If it kept him quiet and out of the way, they’d let pretty much anything slide. 

When the train arrived, he waved to the camera as he left. The stars were still out and he took the walk to the UA campus slowly. The campus wouldn’t be open until six for the exams. Izuku was signed up for the early set, mostly because he knew it would be fairly empty and he didn’t want anyone bothering him. So, he stopped by a convenience store to get breakfast and read through a manga he’d recently found at the local library that looked good. His mother never gave him an allowance, that would be wasteful. He used to steal things from outdoor markets or out of the way shops with tired clerks. He was good at lifting small items. No one noticed the invisible kid with red sneakers. At least, not in the shady parts of town. In the brightly lit grocery stores he’d be kicked out just for walking in. These days, he sold off the hero merch his mother bought him as a kid, before his diagnosis. Most of it was limited edition, so he’d sell a piece here and there online to earn a few extra yen to keep him going. 

“Just this, thanks.” Izuku set a bowl of ramen, a couple hard boiled eggs, and an energy drink on the counter. The clerk rang him up without speaking. 

Izuku made the ramen and sat down at the front window counter. Doing an entrance exam on zero sleep and a narrowly survived suicide attempt didn’t exactly sound like a good idea, but really, what could go wrong?

A couple hours later, Izuku walked onto the UA High campus with a small throng of other students. He turned the volume on his music down a little, just in case someone asked him questions. Before he left the convenience store, he’d changed his shoes. The pair he wore now, black combat boots, he’d purchased a little big and modified with inserts to fit his feet comfortably. If he tried wearing these around his mother or at school, he’d be shouted at or given detention. A quirkless kid was not allowed to exist around in hiding, that would be dangerous and villainous. But no one knew him here, and he wanted to keep it that way. 

“Good morning, please put your phones and headphones away, find an empty desk, and fill out the waivers. We’ll begin the practical exam in thirty minutes.”

“Thank you.” Izuku mumbled, taking off his headphones in the process and putting them away with his phone. A few other students bowed or said their thanks to the proctor as they passed by. Everyone had filtered into the auditorium.

The waiver and forms on the desk were a stack of five stapled papers. The top was just an info form. Name, age, date of birth, middle school…quirk status and name. The rest of the pages were information on the physical and practical exams (or other tests depending on what course you were opting into), liability waivers for the ‘risks’ of doing the physical exam, and a few other consent forms. Izuku read everything in detail before signing. 

The last thing he did was fill out his quirk status. UA famously didn’t pull middle school records except for a grade transcript to check that students were academically prepared. He could get away with a little white lie, right? If it meant he wasn’t discriminated against, if it meant he could at least try, why not lie? Izuku filled out the quirk status as “Strength Quirk”, with a name of “Adrenaline Junkie”. The description was pretty simple. “The longer the user utilizes their strength, the stronger they get, with up to a 2x human strength multiplier, which is assumed to increase as the user grows and strengthens themself.”

There, that wasn’t even a whole lie. Izuku was incredibly strong thanks to his workout routine, and he was most certainly an adrenaline junkie, if his early morning antics today proved anything. Also, he would get stronger with age. Overall, he almost believed his own lie, so it wasn’t likely to be questioned. 

“Alright, students, the exams are being passed out. You will be observed from all angles, cheaters will be dismissed, you have ninety minutes to complete the test. Please make sure you hand in both packets, your waivers and tests, when you are finished. Once done, please sit quietly until the room is dismissed and all packets are collected. You may begin.”

Izuku reviewed the test before starting. It was pretty normal. The first third were standard knowledge questions on a variety of academic subjects. The second part had essay questions relating to personality and intent, to gauge a student’s heroic or career capabilities, most likely. The last section were advanced questions on subjects they’d be studying in high school, like hero civil law or engineering. The prompt before those warned that questions unrelated to the course you chose will not lose you points if answered incorrectly, they would only be considered if you wanted to apply to other courses as well. That was nice, at least.

Izuku answered almost every single question, and he was pretty sure he only got a couple wrong. The only question he was stuck on at the end? ‘If you are choosing the heroics course; why do you want to be a hero?’ He could answer it like every other dumbass sitting in the room; money, fame, to save people - or he could be honest. It might get him unwanted attention, but he didn’t feel like lying would get him anywhere. 

So he wrote; “No hero has ever saved me - I want to be a better hero than the ‘heroes’ that never once offered a hand to help me up off the ground. I want to be better than all the people who pushed me down. I want to prove them wrong. I want to prove All Might wrong.”

On the last sentence he accidentally wrote with too much pressure, making dark bold lines that nearly ripped the paper. Oh well. There wasn’t time to change it, and an eraser certainly wasn’t going to fix that. A buzzer sounded over the PA system, announcing the end of the test. Izuku took out his headphones to block out the sound of dozens of teenagers packing their bags and gathering papers. Ugh, he hated the sound of paper rustling, it made him want to scream. The smack of paper on a desk was enough to make him flinch after how many times it had been used to emphasize disappointment in Izuku himself. 

The students were given directions as they all walked out to turn in their papers. 

“For all students choosing the heroics course, please don’t leave until you hear the directions to the physical exam. The physical exams will begin in thirty minutes. You have time.”

Izuku turned in his forms and exam and moved off to the side to listen with one headphone off. They explained the physical would be a mock battle on one of the battlegrounds on campus, a fake cityscape. There would be four types of robots. One, two, and three point robots which they’d have to deactivate in order to score points. They needed seventy-five points to pass the test. That meant a minimum of twenty-five robots if they got all three point robots, and a max of seventy-five if they got all one pointers. That was harsh, but Izuku thought he could accomplish it. There was also a zero point robot they said to avoid. It was supposed to be an obstacle, nothing else. Izuku didn’t buy that, not completely. 

Once they were dismissed, one of the proctors led the group of remaining students to the training grounds where their physical exam would be. They were each given a large, flat sticker with numbers on them to stick to their backs. Most of the kids had to help each other get them on. Izuku wondered why they couldn’t just stick them on their fronts, but maybe it’d be easier to read them on the back. They didn't tell Izuku to take his headphones off, they just warned him that if they broke, the school wouldn’t be held liable. Izuku shrugged it off and agreed. 

“Alright listeners!” Present Mic’s voice boomed over the exterior PA system, loud enough to penetrate Izuku’s headphones. “Are you all ready?!!” Izuku winced as the shouts and screams of the other students overpowered his music. “There’s no countdown in real life, GO!”

The doors to the training grounds opened and almost every one of the two dozen students left all rushed into the test with their quirks at the ready or already zooming them ahead. Izuku opted to walk into the mock city with his hands in his pockets and his music turned all the way up. Instead of heading into the center of the city, where all the other teens ran off to, Izuku chose to circle the outer edge. He figured if they wanted to make the test a challenge, they would hide all the high point robots farther into the city. Sure enough, as he passed the streets, he found all the kids in the front middle with a whole swarm of one point robots. 

He knew they were being watched. It was likely they thought Izuku was being lazy. But the moment he turned the first corner to the back of the city, he found more than he’d been expecting. A grin spread on his face. Two and three point robots all lined up, waiting to see students. Izuku made a judgement call. They were all facing the front entrance of the city. They only appeared to have one camera on their fronts, and didn’t appear to have any other method of detection for incoming attacks. So, he walked around the back and grabbed the head of the first three pointer he saw and twisted it until it cracked and slumped over. It didn’t even have time to react to the attack. Sure enough, none of the other robots moved. Izuku shook his head. This was a test of brute force, raw power, no finesse or even strategy. 

Izuku moved through the streets of the fake city, careful to stay out of the line of sight, and punched, kicked, or strangled all the robots he could find. Eventually, the other students caught up to him, but none of them noticed what he was doing. They didn’t even seem to care, or pay attention to the semi-invisible boy shuffling through the city breaking robots with his bare hands. Not a single one of them had used anything but their quirks to fight and defend. Izuku had to defend himself a couple times when other students triggered robots he was trying to sneak up on, and yeah, he’d have a few bruises and cuts tomorrow, but at least he’d already surpassed the minimum passing score by a mile. Of course, he did it with his brain instead of his quirk, but hey, there were no rules against that. 

The ground shaking knocked more than a few students off their feet. Izuku would have fallen if he didn’t have a robot in his arms to help stabilize him. He quickly snapped the head off the robot in his arms and got some distance between himself and whatever was making the ground rattle. Just as he rounded the corner to the center of the city, the zero point robot came into view to his left down the street. 

“What the fuck-” He tripped over his own feet, landing flat on his ass. That was not a monster he could fight on his own with only his fists. He might be able to punch a basic robot’s power bank and destroy it with one punch, but Izuku’s fists would break on something like this. Somehow, his headphones didn’t come off in his fall, so the giant robotic nightmare had a damn soundtrack for its entrance. While cool, it was not helping Izuku remain calm. 

Students ran passed him in a sea of screams and fear, quirks firing off to escape the coming behemoth rolling towards them on fucking tank treds. Who the fuck decided that should be a high school entrance exam test? Izuku wasn’t sure he wanted to meet the infamous Principal Nedzu anymore. 

Something pink caught Izuku’s eyes. A girl, waving her hand with her mouth open in a scream. Izuku couldn’t hear anything but a rumble of metal over his music, but he could still see the girl was trapped under rubble. 

“God damnit.” He growled to himself. 

Well, if he was going to take that damn last exam question seriously, he’d need to actually prove his point. He was better than every hero that failed to protect him. Izuku was better than every hero that turned him down, pushed him away, and humiliated him. It didn’t take much effort to get his legs moving, running towards the trapped girl. His headphones got a swat to push them down around his neck so he could hear her but he winced at the rush of noise.

“What are you doing?! It’s going to crush us!”

“What do you think I’m doing?” Izuku grabbed the slab of concrete covering her legs and bent his knees, grunting with the effort to lift it. “I’m getting you out of here!”

“It’s too heavy, just go! It will kill us both.”

Izuku rolled his eyes. “Shut up. They won’t kill middle schoolers. It’s just a test. One I intend to pass with flying colors.” 

With a scream of rage, the concrete slab finally moved. He flipped it off and grabbed the girl under her arm. Izuku threw them both out of the way just as the treads stopped two inches from where her legs had been a moment ago. The whole robot powered down. Izuku collapsed on the ground next to the girl, panting and exhausted. 

“Holy shit.” She whispered. “They really almost killed us.”

“I doubt…it was real…danger.” Izuku said between huffs of breath. That slab was pretty much his one rep max and fuck did his arms hurt. Everything hurt. He’d been using his own brute strength for the last hour. This was almost as bad as the day he moved washing machines on the beach. Not quite, but almost. 

“Are you children alright?” An older woman toddled up to them on a cane, a pinch of worry in her brows. “I’ve never seen a call that close on these exams. You really wanted to push Nedzu’s buttons, huh?”

“Something like that…” Izuku grumbled. 

“Well, let’s have a look at you both. What hurts?” She held out a hand for the young girl, checking her first as she looked more beat up.

“Uhm, my legs are pretty bruised up from that concrete slab.”

“Not to worry, dear. Let me see your hand.”

The girl gave the older woman her hand and with a quick kiss, Izuku watched color return to the teen’s face. She even seemed to drop her shoulders a bit, as if her pain vanished.

“I’m Recovery Girl, the school nurse. Everyone calls me RG. Now then, how about you, son?”

“Hmm?” Izuku looked up. “Oh, I just pulled some muscles in my arms lifting the slab. I’ll be fine.”

“Nonsense. Let me see.”

She took his hand, just like with the girl, and gave it a quick kiss. Sure enough, the pain disappeared and Izuku felt…fine. Actually, he felt better than fine. Or he did, until he caught the look on Recovery Girl’s face. Easy mental math told him her healing quirk likely showed her past injuries, and she probably just read his entire life on display. Izuku laughed awkwardly. 

“Sorry, I’m a wreck. Strength quirk, it uuhhh, it was a pretty nasty manifestation, ya know?” Lie. Lie. LIE. 

“Mhm.” RG muttered. “Get some rest, both of you. You’re free to go.”

“I’m Ochako Uraraka, by the way.”

“Huh? Oh, uhh - Izuku Midoriya.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Midoriya!”

“You too. I should get back home. Glad she fixed your legs.”

“I’m glad you saved me. Thanks for that!”

“Anytime.”

Izuku slipped his headphones back on after Uraraka waved and rushed off towards the exit of the training grounds. Izuku pulled himself to his feet and tucked his hands in his pockets. He grabbed his backpack by the entrance where everyone had left their belongings and started home. The walk out of the UA campus felt a lot less monumental than the walk in. He made it to the front steps before a hand on his arm stopped him dead, a chill running down his spine. 

He turned, taking off his headphones in the process, and found Present Mic, of all people, which instantly calmed the panic that shot through his veins. 

“Hey, listener. Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s fine, Mic-sensei. How can I help you?”

“Well-” The pro-hero sighed. “Would you mind coming with me for a few minutes? Principal Nedzu had a few questions about your exams.”

“Questions…” Izuku sighed. “You think I cheated.”

“N-not necessarily. We’re just concerned about a mismatch between your exam waivers and your registry.”

Ah - that. So they had pulled his registry. Well, he didn’t exactly expect his little white lie on the waivers to last more than a day, anyway. He only did it to get the chance to take the damn exams, Izuku did not believe he’d be let into the school on a lie.

Present Mic led them inside the school building once more. Izuku assumed they were heading to the principal’s office. The auditorium was near the entrance, so the exam students hadn’t been very far into the building. Mic took them all the way to the back on the second floor. Izuku left his headphones down and tried to make himself as small as possible, his steps carrying little weight and no sound, a practiced protection measure. 

When they got to the room, it wasn’t just Nedzu there, Eraserhead was there, too. Izuku had idolized the underground hero since he was a child. Eraserhead was one of the few heroes outspoken about inclusion and equality in hero studies. The Chimera himself, Principal Nedzu, sat at his desk working on a tablet while Eraserhead leaned his backside on the desk edge and stared out a window. 

“Ah, Yamada, did you find our student?” Nedzu asked. Izuku peeked out from behind the blonde voice hero with a wave. “Ah, yes, Midoriya, come in, please, take a seat. I just had a few questions for you.”

“Uhh, I can clear it up pretty fast.” He didn’t sit down. “I’m quirkless. I lied on the waiver so I wouldn’t be turned away. You can just issue me a denial letter. I’ll go. I didn’t mean to cause a fuss.”

All three adults in the room stared at him in confusion. Izuku wasn’t sure if he missed something or not. He’d been asked here because they pulled his registry and discovered he lied on the exam forms, right? Why were they so confused?

Eraserhead finally spoke up. “You’re...quirkless?”

“You pulled my registry, why are you confused?”

“Forgive us, Midoriya.” Nedzu cleared his throat. “We were under the impression that your quirk developed late and you were in need of assistance updating your registry. It’s not an easy process for civilians and we wanted to see if you needed help.”

“Uhhh - no. I lied. I’m quirkless. I even have the extra toe joint and everything.” He kicked out a foot. “I modified these boots so I wouldn’t be noticed with those stupid red ones on the exam. I just…wanted the chance to try. Every other hero school refused to let me take the exams or sent me denial letters after my exams and forms were checked against my registry. I’m a liability.”

“Oh, you are a liability-” Nedzu muttered. “-to my robotics budget.”

Izuku snorted. “Look, seriously. I’m not stupid enough to think UA of all places would allow a quirkless student to attend - hell, a quirkless hero would never be licensed by the Commission. That will never happen.” Izuku turned on his heel and pressed play on his headphones. “I should get home, my mother hates when I’m late.” But before he could put his headphones back on his head, there was a capture scarf wrapped snugly around his arms. He was spun back around. “Eraser, what the hell? Let me go.”

“We’re not done here, kid.” The capture scarf left him. “There’s more. Please, sit.”

Izuku huffed an aggressive sigh and collapsed onto one of the couches. Present Mic gave him a soft look and sat down next to him. Nedzu hopped onto the coffee table and Eraserhead brought over the tablet from the principal’s desk for him.

“Now then. I was quite impressed with your practical exam. You hit the highest score in the last two decades. You even beat Aizawa’s score.” 

The underground hero made a soft ‘tch’ sound and looked away. Was he bitter? Izuku smirked to himself. 

“But not just that, you came in second place for physical exam points. Which means you earned a spot in the hero course. You did that, all on your own, no quirk, no cheating. Believe me, we checked.”

“I’m not a cheater. I worked hard for this.” Izuku gestured to himself. Nedzu lifted a paw to stop his argument.

“I believe you. I know you didn’t cheat. That’s why we’re impressed. UA has, historically, allowed non-physical quirks and quirkless people to take their exams, they just have to sign additional waivers. However, in recent years, we stopped it as a result of pressure from the Commission to avoid ‘getting their hopes up’. Trust me, I hate it as much as you do. But you passed with flying colors, and I don’t plan to let that go to waste.”

Izuku scoffed. “As if the school board or the Commission would ever let me into hero training.”

“What they don’t know won’t hurt them.” Nedzu had been working on his tablet the whole time. The grin on his face told Izuku he should be scared, but for some reason, he wasn’t. “There. All done.” He handed the tablet over to Izuku.

Izuku’s registry entry was pulled up on the tablet. But it wasn’t the same. There was no large red bookmark on the top right corner. There was no bold N/A in the quirk boxes anymore. Instead, there was a more polished version of the quirk Izuku had written on his exam papers. Izuku’s registry record now showed he had an evolving strength based quirk called Adrenaline Junkie. 

“You can’t just-”

“Oh, but I can.” 

“You do realize that there are heroes that fight quirkless, right?” Eraserhead asked.

“Well, yeah. You do. Your quirk basically makes everyone quirkless around you.”

“You shouldn’t know that…but yes, you’re correct. I fight quirkless, and use combat tools and my own fighting skills to defeat my enemies. Just because you don’t have a physical quirk, doesn’t mean you can’t be a hero.”

“Yeah, but if anyone ever found out the truth? I’d be screwed. On top of that, you haven’t even accounted for the fact that my whole middle school, all my classmates, and my family know the truth. And trust me, none of them would go along with this ruse. My mother would be-” He cleared his throat before saying she’d beat him into next Tuesday for trying to fake a quirk.

“She’d be upset?” Present Mic leaned his elbows on his knees and frowned. “I’m sorry, listener, but this would be the best option to get you into the school.”

“The only way, in fact.” Eraserhead added. 

Izuku stood up. “Yeah, well, it won’t work. No one who knows me would ever go along with the lie.”

Nedzu took the tablet back hesitantly when Izuku handed it over. “Why not? Don’t your parents want you to succeed in life?”

Izuku barked a laugh so shrill it made all three men jump in their seats. He couldn’t help it. That fire bubbled up in his gut again and he just didn’t stop it. That anger and sadness, the emptiness, it just ate at his insides and snapped out of him. 

“Just how long have you all been sitting on your high horses? Please. As if anyone in this country would be willing to accept a quirkless hero, and yeah, sure, you know they aren’t ready for that, but you can’t possibly think anyone who knows a quirkless person would be willing to lie for them, or keep their secret so they could succeed. That’s the best joke I’ve ever heard all year. You really need to do some research if you think any of this would ever work.”

“Well, it might be hard for your classmates to accept, I’m sure they weren’t kind to a quirkless student, but they don’t need to know that your quirk status changed. A late development would be a viable option.” Present Mic suggested, gently trying to get Izuku to sit back down. Izuku ripped his arm free and scoffed.

“Not kind? You really don’t know anything, do you? This is a farce! Even if any of this did work, you’d never be able to convince my mother, she’d never sign the consent forms. Hell, if she sees the alert for the change in my regis-... Fuck!” Izuku pulled at his hair. “What have you done?!”

Before they could stop him, Izuku threw the door open and bolted out of the school, fear driving his feet forward. He had to get home before his mother read the email the registry would automatically send if any updates were made. Izuku had once tried to update his own registry as a child, just to test it, by logging in on her phone. His mother got an alert right after and beat the living hell out of him before denying the changes on the alert while holding her foot on his neck. The greenstick fractures in his arm took weeks to heal and the bruise on his neck had to be covered up for days. 

There was no time to waste on the train, he ran full-tilt towards his mother’s apartment with abandon. Power coursed through his legs. Izuku never once skipped leg day. Hell, he’d been running from bullies all his life, Izuku could run a four and a half minute mile with no obstacles on flat terrain. Even so, the run back to his apartment felt like hours. By the time he arrived, he was soaked in sweat and heaving air into his lungs. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing showing up like that?” Inko snapped from the hallway, glaring at him. “You’re late. I had to start dinner. Go finish.”

Izuku nodded, still trying to recover his breath.

“Wash your face first, I don’t want sweat in my damn food.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Okay, no freak out, no shouting. She hadn’t seen the email yet. She didn’t know. She didn’t know. Izuku had time. He had time to think, and figure out a plan. His mother’s phone sat on the counter across from the stove. He knew her code, he just needed a moment alone to delete the email completely. Izuku grabbed some paper towel and wiped down his face after wetting it. If she found out, that would be the end of his chances at any future. Hell, she might actually kill him this time. It’s not like she hadn’t tried before. 

Inko wandered back into the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine from the fridge while Izuku got to work on the fried rice she started. She must be in a good mood today if she wasn’t even bothering to snap at him for being late. She did know he was doing entrance exams today, but she hardly cared about that. Maybe she just wanted to see if he actually made something useful of himself. Inko would never agree to pay for a school with more than average tuition, but hey, maybe he could have tried to get into the average schools in the country.

She grabbed her phone and flipped it open to her text messages. Izuku monitored her out of the corner of his eye. She was scrolling through a work group chat right now. 

“Hey, mom?” She hummed in response. “I did really well on my entrance exams. Might get into a decent school. Nothing fancy, just…you know, useful.”

“Surprise, surprise. The leech can function on his own. I’m so proud.” Her tone held nothing but resentment. Izuku gripped the pan handle hard enough to crack the wood. Thankfully, she didn’t hear the crack over the sizzle of rice in the pan. 

“I just…wanted to let you know I’ll have consent forms - if I get accepted. I’ll need supplies and uniforms…”

“If you get accepted, I’ll give you a stipend for what you need based on the school’s lists. Nothing more. You better hope they give you a scholarship of some kind. I’m not paying anything over the average cost.”

“Of course. Thank you, mom.”

“Mmm. Shut up. I’m trying to read.”

Izuku made dinner as silently as he could. She only put one portion in the pan, which meant Izuku wasn’t eating this meal. He’d likely need to run out later and buy something. When he was younger, he’d sneak out and steal anything left over from restaurants on outside tables, like half a hamburger or some fries. It wasn’t glamorous, but thus far he’d managed to avoid digging through the trash, which was a miracle in itself. 

Inko’s work phone rang in her bedroom. The woman sighed and set down her personal phone and wine glass to head into her room. She slammed the door on her way and Izuku jumped into action. He grabbed her phone before it locked, even though he knew the code, and opened her email. He found the email from the registry, made sure there was only one, deleted it, then went into the trash can and permanently deleted the file. She was chatting with a coworker, or maybe her boss. Izuku could hear her voice rising. They probably wanted her to come back in. Izuku quickly closed out the email app and returned it to the text app, exactly as it was, and placed it back down. He made it back to the stove as she opened her door. 

“Wrap that up for me to take. I need to go back to work.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She snatched the lunchbox from his hands the moment he finished packing her dinner. The front door banged shut after her. Izuku collapsed to his knees, hands on the counter edge to keep him from falling over. There was no amount of breathing that could shake the fear from his bones right now. He didn’t know exactly how bad that could have been, but he knew it would have been catastrophic. Izuku’s head thumped against the cabinet door, a groan echoing through the house as he tried to control his own emotions.

A few seconds later, the door clattered open and shut, but this time, the wall cracked. 

“No-” Izuku gasped. 

There were hands on him before he could properly register what was happening. Inko’s face, full of rage, growled in his ears. She’d tackled him to the ground, her quirk compelling his wrists into her hand, crossed above his head. Her free hand grabbed his chin and shoved the back of his head into the kitchen floor tiles.

“What the absolute fuck do you think gave you the right to try and change your registry again?!” She spat in his face. 

“I didn’t!”

“Don’t you fucking lie to me, you piece of human garbage. I just got an email that you tried to alter it. Changing your quirk status, huh? Do you think you can just trick me into thinking you got into a high school befitting an actual worthwhile student? You are nothing! You don’t deserve an education. You’re too stupid for it anyway!”

“Mom, please! I’m not ly-”

“Shut up!” 

Her hand cracked across his face. Blood splattered across her face from her rings slicing his cheek open. He couldn’t move. Every part of his body was now glued to the floor from her quirk. Even with all his strength, he couldn’t overcome the force of her quirk. It was much stronger than she ever let on. Most people thought she just had a cute little telekinetic power that could summon small objects to her hands. 

Her quirk was so much more than that. They had a long line of incredibly powerful telekinesis abilities in their family. Inko was no exception. Izuku had seen his mother stop an eighteen wheeler dead in its tracks once when he tripped and landed in the road as a toddler. The whole front end crunched flat like it hit a wall. Of course, that was before he’d been diagnosed. She’d probably let the truck run him over now.

There was no getting out of this hold. If she wanted to, she could crush him flat. The pressure on his arms strained his joints. He really didn’t need any more dislocations. In his mind, he begged her to stop, but she’d grabbed his jaw again and he couldn’t speak. Tears streamed down his face. He just wanted her to leave him alone, maybe forget he existed. To be forgotten would be better than being beaten for simply existing.

“You have no value on this earth but the service you can provide in this kitchen, or cleaning my floors. That is what you are.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, just loud enough to be heard over her son’s hiccupped sobs. “You are stupid, weak, and diseased. You’re an abomination. You have ruined my family name. You aren’t even a girl, you can’t even try and fix this fuck up in our family tree.”

The pressure increased. Izuku wanted to scream, but her hand covering his mouth had muffled any sound he might have made. The crack of bone sounded hard against his ears from his arms right next to his head. He could hear every pop and snap of his joints and bones as she continued to press his arms flatter to the ground above his head. The only thing he could do was kick his legs and howl against her hand. 

“If you ever try any shit like that again, I swear I will crush your throat with my quirk, slow, so you can feel every second of suffocation. Do you understand me?” Izuku couldn’t answer. “DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?!” He whined, nodding as best he could with the grip on his face.

A second later, she was off him, and her quirk deactivated. Izuku rolled sideways and gasped several gulps of air down his throat. He couldn’t move his arms without wanting to scream. They lay limp on the ground around him as he controlled his breathing and tried to ease the enraged fire in his stomach. The hate, the utter disgust and anguish of his life was too strong. He wanted to bite her face off. He wanted to rip her limb from fucking limb, and he could. He had the strength to do it. But Izuku’s logical mind wouldn’t let him. He knew if he got revenge, it wouldn’t be satisfying, and he would only suffer for it.

Inko had collapsed into a nearby chair so she could wipe the blood off her face. They both sat there in silence while she worked. Izuku stared at the ground, still unable to move without either vomiting or screaming, and Inko stared at him with unmasked hatred. 

A knock on the door twenty minutes later startled them both. 

“Fuck.” She grumbled. The towel she used got tossed at Izuku as she left and checked the hall mirror before answering the door. “Oh good evening, can I help you?”

“Is this the house of Inko and Izuku Midoriya? I’m looking for Izuku.”

That was…that was Eraserhead’s voice. Why was he here??

“Yes, but my son isn’t here right now. He’s out doing entrance exams.”

Wrong answer. Izuku rolled onto his back. Wrong answer. She wasn’t going to win this one. Maybe, for once, someone would see her for what she was. Maybe, for once, Izuku would actually…no. No. That would never happen.

“I’m sorry, but he left UA a couple hours ago, there are no other entrance exams today. So he’s either missing, or he’s home and you must have missed him. Kids can be so sneaky, you know?”

What was Eraser’s game? Why was he even here? Izuku groaned as loud as he could, which wasn’t much, just a lame little grumble. He didn’t know what good this would do him, but if Eraser was here, then something was happening. It had to be better than being left to his mother’s wrath, right? It had to be. There was no other hope of getting off the kitchen floor, so Izuku clung to it.

“Well, he’s certainly not missing. He texted me and told me he would be out late for exams, so you must be mistaken.”

Izuku groaned louder.

“Midoriya-san. If you can’t explain your missing son or the groaning from your kitchen, I’m going to have to ask you to step aside.”

“Excuse me, this is my house, you cannot just barge in like you’re the police.”

“Actually, I’m a pro-hero, I can and most certainly will move you out of my way if I need to. So either move, or I will be removing you from the situation.”

Inko scoffed. “Whatever. I’ve got work to do.”

“Tsuki, detain her.”

“What!? Get your hands off me!”

“Izuku?” Eraser called. Izuku groaned again. The hero rounded the corner into the kitchen. “Izuku! What the hell did she do?!”

Izuku couldn’t really feel his tongue right now. She must have been using her quirk on his jaw. It hurt just to groan, so he shrugged instead. That was a huge mistake. His arms rippled with agony, sending another wave of whimpering cries from his lips. 

“Shhh, I got you. Take a few deep breaths, can you do that?” Izuku did as instructed. “Good. Tsuki! Tell Nedzu I’m bringing the kid back to UA. He’s in rough shape. I don’t even know what she did.”

“On it!” A male voice called from outside.

“I’m going to get you to a doctor - ah, shhh, I know. I know. No hospitals. You’re going to see Recovery Girl, okay?” Izuku nodded slowly. “I’m so sorry, Izuku. We didn’t mean to cause you so much pain.”

They didn’t know. Izuku could have explained, he should have explained. But he opted not to because if they didn’t know, then maybe they wouldn’t be so biased against him. He just wanted maybe one adult who didn’t look at him like a waste of space. That had, apparently, been too much of an ask for the universe to accomplish. 

He screamed when Eraserhead folded his arms against his chest.

“I’m sorry, kid. Deep breaths. I need to secure you for transport.” 

He worked fast and wrapped his capture scarf around Izuku’s torso to stabilize the teen’s arms against his chest. It hurt, but once they were no longer moving, there was some relief from the pain. He was finally able to breathe easy as Eraser picked him up. 

Izuku didn’t remember much of the time in between, the transport. He faded in and out of consciousness as they loaded Inko into a police cruiser, and Izuku was put in the passenger seat of a big black SUV. They sped through the streets and Izuku blacked out for a while until the familiar, semi-friendly face of the old nurse appeared out of nowhere, or somewhere. 

“Look at me, dear.” She carefully held up his chin. Izuku blinked a few times, slowly. RG clicked her tongue. “I was right.”

“About what?” Eraser asked, he was standing nearby somewhere. Izuku couldn’t see him.

“When I checked him out after the exams…I swore these were hallmark child abuse injuries. But the kid was so confident in his lie, I believed him, like an idiot.”

Izuku tried to look away, but she still held his chin carefully. The older nurse sighed and pressed a kiss to his forehead, which sent a jolt of relief down his whole body. Izuku instantly went slack against the bed. Recovery Girl brushed some curls from his face. 

“She fractured your jaw, don’t try to speak until the quirk runs its course to heal you. Your wrists are shattered but they should heal in a couple rounds of my quirk. I’m going to have to set the dislocated joints manually. I’ll give you a shot of morphine.”

“MmmMmm.” Izuku muttered, disagreeing. 

“Kid-”

“Stop, Eraser. It’s the kid’s choice.”

“He’s in pain, why wouldn’t you give him pain medication?”

“He’s sixteen. Medically speaking, he can refuse medication if it’s not life threatening. I can imagine he doesn’t want drugs in his system, it would affect his training.” Izuku nodded again. “Mmm, I get it. Most hero kids refuse them.”

“Most hero kids don’t need two dislocated elbows popped back into place.”

Izuku wanted to say if it weren’t for his shattered wrists, he’d do it himself. He’d done it on several occasions, mostly because it was safer and easier than going to a clinic or hospital and hoping they didn’t fuck him up even worse than when he walked into the building. But RG told him not to speak, so he stayed quiet and rolled his eyes. 

Eraserhead sighed. “Fine. Do you need help?”

“Yes, hold him down. Sorry kid, but I’m sure you know this won’t be pleasant.”

“Mhmm.”

Eraserhead moved around the infirmary bed and carefully laid his arms over Izuku’s torso. He did so gently, but that didn’t stop panic from coursing through Izuku’s veins at the familiar feeling of being pinned down. The nurse didn’t waste any time, which was a blessing. She worked his left arm out, twisted, and popped the elbow back into place. The right one followed. Izuku breathed through it. He did whine at each crack of his joints, but at least it was over quickly.

“She did manage a few more greenstick fractures on both radii, but they’re hairline fractures, they should heal once this round of my quirk takes full effect. I’m sorry dear. Just try and relax. If you do want pain meds, press the button on your lap.”

Izuku nodded once again. His jaw didn’t hurt enough to keep him silent, but he really didn’t want to speak right now. Instead, for once, he let the blackness envelop him and he fell into the void of unconsciousness. 

~

Shouta lowered himself into a chair in Nedzu’s office with careful poise. If he didn’t control every single inch of his body right now, he was going to lose his damn mind and probably throw a punch where it shouldn’t go. Recovery Girl was still with the wounded teen laying in their infirmary. Shouta had to walk away and catch his breath. 

“How bad is it, Shouta?” Nedzu asked, his tone morbid.

“Ohhhhh…” He sighed. “Bad. Fractured arms, dislocated elbows, shattered wrists, a fractured jaw, facial lacerations, and I’m sure there will be some long-lasting psychological effects to deal with.”

“According to her registry, the mother has a telekinetic quirk, she can push and pull objects with her mind.”

“Chiyo said it looked like someone tried to flatten him into the floor.”

“That…would track.” Nedzu hopped off his desk and onto the couch with Shouta. “This happened as a result of his registry changes, didn’t it?”

“I assume so. I found her phone laying on the floor in the hallway, open to the email alert. It was the second alert, when you tried to change it back. The kid must have deleted the first one, I couldn’t find it.”

Nedzu winced. “And it didn’t even work. I didn’t know there was a lockout on quirkless registry updates to prevent them from being edited more than once a month. It must be new.”

Shouta rubbed the corners of his eyes. There was a migraine brewing behind his brow. He desperately needed sleep. His husband was off somewhere in the building helping Tsukauchi research this whole situation while still staying close to the school in case he was needed. 

“Chiyo also identified a pattern of abuse in the kid’s body. She said he brushed it off so well when she spotted it at the exam that she believed him.”

“Do you think she made a mistake on that?”

“Well, yes, but she believed him to be a kid with a strength quirk who was trying out for the hero course, it’s likely his manifestation, if real, was violent. She had no reason or evidence to disbelieve him.”

Nedzu sighed. “Fair enough.”

Shouta slid down the chair a bit so he could rest his head on the back. There were so many angles to this problem, Shouta wasn’t sure where to start. The kid had been horribly right. They knew nothing about how quirkless people were actually treated. Shouta and Hizashi had both faced bullying and cruelty for their quirks, and Nedzu had certainly been mistreated, but none of them thought anyone could treat a child the way Shouta found Izuku. Even at sixteen, Izuku was still a kid. His own mother fractured his jaw by using her quirk to force his head into the floor. 

Shouta leaned forward and put his face in his hands. “What are we going to do, Nedzu?”

“I’m working on that. Chiyo is forging some medical tests for me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, sorry…completing them. If we can prove the boy was misdiagnosed, we can have the mother arrested for medical negligence and abuse and a whole host of other crimes.”

“How will that help? His mother isn’t the only obstacle in this scenario.”

“Perhaps not, Shouta. But she is the first hurdle. As much as I’d prefer to see you strangle her with your capture scarf to give her a taste of her own medicine…this will have to suffice.”

“Nedzu…” Shouta pinched the bridge of his nose. “Your animal brain is showing.”

“Oh, I’m well aware of that. Why don’t you go get some sleep? I’ll have an update for you by the time you’re up.”

“You know what - I don’t want to be culpable in this. I’m going to take a nap.”

“Excellent idea!”

~

Izuku cracked open his eyes to glare at the bright lights above him. Oh, wait, the lights were actually out. He blinked a few times. What time was it? Why were the lights out? Did he sleep through the whole day and into the night? That was going to fuck up his already tenuous sleep schedule. 

The pain was almost gone now. He could move his jaw around without any issues, so that was a relief. His arms still ached something terrible, though. Granted, RG said his wrists were shattered. Izuku shouldn’t expect them to be healed immediately, even with her quirk. She’d wrapped them and put them in braces. That was likely easier than casting them when her quirk would heal them in a day or two. Healing quirks really were some of the best quirks out there. Izuku had become so accustomed to enduring his wounds as some second layer of torment, he forgot they had much better methods of medicine these days. 

She had a loose neck brace on him as well, which was likely to stabilize his jaw without wrapping his whole head up, but he didn’t feel much more than a dull ache under his chin, so maybe her quirk had already taken care of the small fractures. 

The infirmary was quiet. The curtains were drawn but he could see some faint light behind them, so maybe it was still daytime outside, they’d just drawn them and turned off the lights so he could rest. Izuku didn’t sleep well anymore. He hadn’t been able to sleep normally for years, really. Getting up early meant he could avoid the bulk of people bothering him on the morning ride to school, and staying up late meant he could scrounge around for anything useful in the dark when people weren’t looking. 

The infirmary door opening startled him out of his thoughts. 

“What are you doing awake, kid?” Eraserhead asked. “You should be resting. Chiyo’s quirk should have knocked you out for hours.”

Izuku shrugged, finally able to do it. “I don’t sleep much anyway.”

“Hmm.”

The older hero pulled a chair across the room and settled down beside him. He even put his feet up on Izuku’s bed and pulled out a book. Izuku was sort of surprised at his boldness, or perhaps the quiet leisure in his actions. He didn’t start a conversation, hell, he didn’t even look at Izuku. Eraserhead just flipped through the book to locate his page and silently started reading. 

“What are you doing?”

“Hmm?” Eraserhead didn’t look up, he turned a page.

“Why are you…here?”

“Because you’re here. You are presently, technically, in police custody due to the abuse we walked in on. UA is not only a high school, it’s also a sanctuary space like all hospitals and churches. As a result, you are supposed to have a guard at all times, and the head nurse just went home for the evening, so - I’m on duty.”

“I don’t need a guard, Eraserhead.”

He finally set the book down on his lap and sighed. “I’m off duty, you can call me by name. Aizawa. Shouta Aizawa.”

“You just said you’re on duty.”

“Off duty from hero work. On duty as your temporary guardian. Are you always argumentative?”

Izuku chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment. “Sorry…I’m not- I’m not used to this…attention. It’s weird. I’m used to being ignored, or relegated to the background. I’m invisible unless and until someone decides my presence is a problem.” He paused. “It’s always a problem.”

“That’s what you’re waiting for…you think I’m going to find the problem and point it out, or maybe shove you out of that bed and off the campus. Is that it?”

“Obviously.”

Aizawa sighed again, deeper this time. “You are not the problem.”

“Yes, I am. I’m quirkless. That literally defines me as the problem. Do you not know what that red mark on my registry even means?”

“I’m aware of all the various colored marks a registry can have, that doesn’t mean you’re at fault for anything that has happened today or in the past. You are a teenager, a child, you are not at fault for what the world has done to you.”

Izuku shook his head. “Maybe not, but nothing you do now will change what was already done.” He grabbed the blankets and rolled over to face the window, away from his temporary guardian. “Goodnight, Aizawa.”

“Get some sleep, kid.”

~

Izuku rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling when light finally broke through his eyes and he gave in to waking up. He was alone again, which Izuku assumed meant Recovery Girl was back on duty and Aizawa had gone off to do whatever pro-heroes do on weekends when they weren’t guarding problematic children. Since the entrance exams were yesterday, all the teachers were probably reviewing the footage and making the final decisions on acceptance letters. 

Izuku finally felt better, or better enough, so he threw his legs over the side of the bed and got up. His wrists were still aching miserably but the nurse said he’d need another round of her quirk before leaving, so he assumed they’d make him wait until that happened before leaving. Izuku also assumed his mother had probably been released from custody once they realized Izuku is quirkless, so she’ll probably either spend a couple days glaring at him to avoid any further disturbances from the police, or she’ll just beat him to death finally. 

Izuku was sort of okay with either at this point. Maybe it’d make everyone’s life easier if he just wasn’t here to cause trouble. 

Thankfully, they didn’t put him in scrubs so he didn’t have to change. Izuku wandered out of the infirmary room to look for Recovery Girl. Her office seemed to be just down the hall so Izuku went that way. The door was cracked so he knocked before heading in. 

“Midoriya?”

“Hey RG, I think you said I had to get another round of healing before I could leave? Can we do that? I’d like to head home.”

She stuttered for a moment. “Sweetie… did Aizawa not explain that he was your temporary guardian?”

“Yeah, he did. I get it, he was my guardian while I was in his custody. But it’s been twelve hours. They’ve probably already released my mother, and she’ll be pretty annoyed if I’m not there to make her lunch at the very least, and the house is probably a wreck of my blood and I’m not really in the mood to-”

“Midoriya, stop.”

“Huh?”

“You’re not going home, dear. Do you…do you understand that what she did to you was wrong? That what Aizawa walked in on was not only abuse but attempted murder?”

Izuku shrugged. “Okay, and? I’m quirkless. She can do whatever she wants with me. There’s no laws against killing quirkless people, we are specifically excluded in regular law.”

The old nurse just stared at him, her mouth agape. Something behind her eyes shifted like she was debating what to say for quite some time. Finally, she leaned back while holding up a form from her desk. 

“Well, you aren’t quirkless. You are a child whose quirk was purposefully unregistered as a result of abuse. Your mother has been processed. She’s in the prefecture jail, dear.”

“Wh-what? No, that’s not.” He took the papers from Recovery Girl, nearly snatching them out of her hand. “That’s a lie. I don’t have a quirk, and they know you edited my registry. If she-” He scanned the paper, disbelieving the police report right in front of him. “If she finds out, she’ll kill me.” He shook his head. This didn’t make sense. Why were they trying to lie for him again? It already caused the mess he was currently in, how much more damage were they willing to cause? “I need to go.”

“Midoriya!”

Izuku shoved himself through the office door before she could grab him. Panic swelled in his throat like he’d stuffed a whole bottle of chili powder down it. His chest became a vice around his heart and lungs. The run to the front entrance of the infirmary became one of those ever-elongating halls that stretched on ad-infinitum. But he didn’t make it through the door. Aizawa appeared in the doorway with worry in his eyes, he called Izuku’s name. 

The teen shook off the fear, coming to a sneaker-screeching halt in front of the pro-hero who dared not touch him as he struggled to breathe. 

“Please, I need to go home. My mother will-”

“Izuku, she can’t hurt you anymore.”

“You don’t understand! You keep doing this but you never understand!”

“Okay, okay.” Aizawa knelt down and made himself smaller, eye level. “Okay, then help me understand.”

“I can’t! You just keep doing things, and messing it all up and making it worse!”

“Can you take a few deep breaths for me?” Izuku tried, slowly. “Start at the beginning, explain it to me like I’m an idiot if you have to.”

Izuku closed his eyes for a moment to swallow back the panic that had welled up under his ribcage. It took several long minutes but he managed to let his body slump onto the ground. His guardian followed. Izuku shook his head again. 

“Quirkless people aren’t…people. We’re less than human; worthless, sick, diseased, useless unless we’re doing something for quirked people. I kept the house, I cooked, I cleaned, I made sure my mother wasn’t bothered by my presence. I tried to tell Recovery Girl. I tried. My mother can do whatever she wants to me. I’m not considered a citizen.”

“But..”

“Aizawa - I’m property.”

“No. That’s not-”

Izuku cut him off again. “That is how the law is written and how it’s been interpreted for decades by the courts. Everything you all keep doing is only making it all worse. They know I’m quirkless, they know my registry was changed yesterday. Even with the false police reports, the courts won’t agree with you unless you can prove I have a quirk…and you can’t.”

Aizawa let out a long, slow sigh. He finally understood why Izuku was freaking out, why none of this made any sense. Izuku didn’t put up with the abuse for kicks, he legally had no right to live another life. He was trapped by a system that wanted to crush him, and it was doing a damn good job of it.

“If you can’t prove that I have a quirk my mother was hiding in order to control and abuse me, they’ll never prosecute her for handling her property in any manner she chooses.”

“Izuku - you are not property. I need you to understand me when I tell you this; you are a child. You deserve to exist and be loved and cared for like every other kid, regardless of your quirk status.”

Izuku groaned. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters, Izuku. It absolutely matters.”

“No, it fucking doesn’t! I don’t understand why you are trying so goddamn hard to change something so unimportant. I shouldn’t have even tried to take the stupid entrance exam. I shouldn’t have been there, none of this would have happened. I should have just walked off that stupid platform and let the train hit me.”

“What?”

Aizawa’s voice could have been crumpled under his own weight. The broken way he barely gasped out the word actually made Izuku pause, and realize what he let slip out. They both sat there on the floor at the entrance of the infirmary, staring at the tile beneath them, the silence like physical weight that filled the space between them, bearing down on their heads. 

Izuku’s admission came out because, in his mind, there was absolutely nothing wrong with a quirkless person dying…no matter how unfair it was, no matter how much he only wanted to be loved by the people who should love him. He knew better than to hope. He could complain in his mind, and scream and cry and punch brick walls, but he knew far better than to ever expect it from anyone in his life.

“I have given everything, every piece of myself, to prove my existence is worthwhile. I have given my breath, my body, my blood. I have given them my voice, my very will to live.”

Shouta looked up; blankness, an empty sort of sorrow filled his eyes as Izuku spoke. 

“But they still call me selfish because I can’t give them more.” He tried to take a steadying breath, it came out shaky. “That is my life. That is what you are up against.”

The silence finally shattered when Shouta sat up straighter and hardened his expression. “Okay, then we’ll stand against every single person who thinks any child deserves to be treated the way you’ve been treated.”

“Why? Why are you doing this, going this far? What do you get out of this?”

Aizawa tilted his head. “Izuku, this isn’t about me. It’s about you being treated like the human you are, about being cared for and respected like anyone else. This is a fight I would gladly take on for anyone, quirk or not, kid or adult, it doesn’t matter who or what you are. You are being mistreated, so you deserve justice, and fair treatment.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“That’s okay.” The older hero offered a hand to help Izuku off the ground. They both stood up and the man’s hands moved to squeeze Izuku’s arms. “Actions speak louder than words. All I ask is that you work with us and give us a chance to try.”

Izuku wanted to try, he wanted to believe this hero who’d only ever tried to help him, but everything in his bones was screaming that there was no point to it. Before he could make a decision, Aizawa took a breath.

“And I’m sorry, we are all so immensely sorry that our actions caused you physical harm. Nedzu is excitable, and he’s…well, he’s a quirked animal, and that often leads to little issues in communication. This time- this time it hurt someone. I know he’ll say this to you as well, but we did not intend to cause you any harm.”

“I know. He thought my registry was outdated. It’s a complicated process to update, he wasn’t wrong to assume that I might need help. He just…stuck his foot into a much larger problem by accident.”

“We’d like to at least make up for that mistake, if possible. I’m not sure what that means right now, but we’ll figure it out.”

“I- Yeah, I guess. Okay.”

“Thank you.”

Izuku sat through another round of quirk healing before being released from the infirmary. Aizawa explained that he was still in police/UA custody so he’d be staying with his temporary guardian for a while. Inko was still in custody, and as a minor, he couldn’t go home alone, so he’d be stuck with his temp guardian until something more permanent appeared. Izuku tried not to think about what that might mean or what it could look like. 

For now, he decided to just go along with whatever this path was leading to. Aizawa was being kind to him, kinder than anyone else he'd ever known. If only because it was a momentary relief, Izuku decided to let them try and fix the mess they made.

Aizawa led him across campus to where the dorms were being built. Apparently, UA was switching to a boarding school next year. Izuku would have hated that idea, if he were ever actually considered for admittance, which was utterly insane. Izuku knew better than to hope he might actually get into a hero school, he’d just…he’d just wanted one thing for himself. Izuku wanted one little thing that might belong to him and him alone, one accomplishment to say ‘see? I did that, all on my own’ and proved everyone wrong. 

What a ridiculous thought.

Izuku’s guardian held open the door to the teacher’s dorm. 

“Once they have all the student dorms built, and the new school year starts, most of the teachers will be moved into the dorms as dorm parents and this will become visitor housing and extra space. For now, I have an apartment on the fourth floor.”

“How long will I be here?” Izuku asked. 

“Uhhh - we’ll figure that out as we go. For now, we’re waiting on a judge to do an arraignment for your mother, a custody hearing will happen afterwards. Tsuki called me this morning about it. They should have everything settled Monday morning. Let’s get through today first, yeah?”

Izuku nodded. He could play along for one day. As cruel as it was to let himself think it, Izuku almost wished he’d get more time here. Recovery Girl and Aizawa didn’t look at him with disgust or disdain. They didn’t speak down to him, or ask him to shut up if he spoke too much or got into a panic. 

They took an elevator to the fourth floor. Izuku got distracted staring at the rather plain walls and softly carpeted floors. Did they have a vacuum Izuku could use to keep them clean? Maybe he shouldn’t be worrying about that right now. They made it to the apartment with Aizawa’s name plate beside the door and the hero let them in. The apartment was almost as undecorated as the hallway, but hadn’t Aizawa said the dorms were new? Maybe he hasn’t yet fully moved in. There were a few pictures of previous classes on the wall which Izuku decided to check.

“Why are there gaps in the class years?”

“Hmm?” The older man turned around. “Oh, heh, I’ve expelled full classes a few times. I actually don’t have a current hero course since they were all expelled this year. It was a wreck, really. Even Nedzu agreed. Vlad even expelled a few students from class B along with me. I only teach first-year heroics like Vlad, but Nedzu is thinking of swapping it so that we follow our students, and then their other courses swap or they take certain extra courses for the higher level classes. It’s still in the works. Anyway, I’ll have a class next year.”

“Is that where you came from this morning?”

Aizawa smirked. “You’re very perceptive. Yes, we were making the final cuts on the acceptance list. It was tough this year, and we even had several students with non-physical quirks that did very well, yourself included.”

“Uh huh.” Izuku nearly ran into his guardian when the man stopped walking halfway to the kitchen and Izuku didn’t notice until it was almost too late. “What?”

“Nedzu told you that you came in second place in the physical exam, and aced the practical, so…why do you seem disappointed?”

“Aizawa, there is no way in hell the Commission or the school board would ever allow a quirkless kid to take hero courses, and on top of that, if my mother ever decided to give me funding for school, it sure as hell wouldn’t be for hero school. Plus, she’s currently in jail, so how exactly would you expect me to pay for UA’s tuition fees?”

“Kid-”

“No, I get it, rainbows and butterflies, you’re trying to fix the mess you made, but even if you fix it - they’ll just put me in foster care until I turn 18, and there’s no way a foster family could afford UA.” He sighed. “So, you might as well give my spot to someone who earned it.”

“You earned it, Izuku. You earned it all on your own, and you deserve to be here, just as much as any other hero hopeful. UA does have scholarships, and we have the budget and funding for students who have hardships. We can worry about the damn Commission later. Nedzu is taking care of the board.”

The way he said it sounded like he meant Nedzu was dismissing the school board. Izuku opted not to ask, just in case it led to more problems. 

“Okay. We’ll talk about it later.”

Aizawa sighed. “Fair enough. Let’s have lunch. What do you like to eat?”

“Uhm…” Izuku didn’t actually know what his favorite foods were. He’d never really formed a good relationship with food. His mother didn’t usually cook for him, not since he was big enough to cook for himself and she didn’t have to supply the bare minimum to avoid him starving to death. Actually, come to think of it, why didn’t she let him starve to death? Maybe she didn’t want to do the paperwork or pay for his burial. Izuku shrugged, settling on, “I’m not hungry.”

“Izuku, you haven’t eaten since…when did you eat last?”

“I don’t know…I think I grabbed something at the convenience store before the exams.”

Aizawa blinked a few times, his mouth open and unspeaking for just a moment. “Kid, that was yesterday.”

“Yeah, I think that was around four am?”

“Wh- okay, uhm, do we need to have a talk about healthy eating habits?”

Izuku made a face. “Why does it matter? I eat when I have money or find something sitting on a table outside.” He didn’t say petty theft was how he stayed fed throughout most of his childhood. “I’ve learned to just eat whatever I can. Twenty-four hours isn’t even that bad, I’m not hungry.”

Aizawa sighed like just being in the same room as Izuku was exhausting.

“Growing kids need healthy meals to grow. If you want to be a pro-hero, you’ll need to eat properly to put on weight and muscle while you train, and to keep you from passing out when you train.”

But Izuku didn’t believe he could be a pro-hero, so why should eating matter? He knew that nutritional needs were important for regular kids, for kids who were actually valued members of society, but Izuku wasn’t in that category, he never would be. Izuku had the feeling Aizawa wouldn’t accept any of that as a proper response. So he opted to acquiesce instead. 

“Do you have like…fried rice or something?”

“Yeah, I can do that. Make yourself at home, I’ll whip something up.”

“Okay.”

The older hero headed into the kitchen and Izuku sort of just stood in the middle of the living room. What did ‘make yourself at home’ mean? He’d never heard that phrase before in his life, but he assumed it meant…something like act as if this were his own home? Why would Izuku do that? He thought he was supposed to be with people who would treat him differently from how everyone else treated him. But if Aizawa wanted him to act like this was Izuku’s home then-

“Kid?”

“Huh?”

Aizawa had peeked his head out of the kitchen. “You okay? You’re just…standing there looking lost.”

“You said…you said make myself at home but- uhm…”

“Ah.” He seemed to understand. Aizawa came out of the kitchen while wiping his hands on a towel. “You weren’t welcome in your own home. So, how about this - make yourself at home in a house you’d feel safe in.”

That…actually sounded nice. “Okay. I…I think I can do that.”

“Good. Lunch will be ready in a few minutes.”

A home he felt safe in. A home where his mother didn’t throw heavy objects at his head, or use his quirk to crush him into the floor. A home where he wasn’t relegated to one room and a pretend non-existence. A home where he could just…sit on the couch. He might as well try it out, right? Nothing happened when he sat down. Izuku wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting to happen, he hadn’t actually sat on the couch in his house in probably six years, maybe longer. His mother would probably have lost her mind if he had.

There were a few books on the table; Classics. Izuku picked up Frankenstein and glanced over the old, western style covers. The books were written in English, which surprised Izuku. He’d learned English to communicate on online forums with other quirkless people around the world. That was one of the only friendly reliefs he’d had over the last ten or so years. 

“Those are Zashi’s books, sorry.”

“Who?” Izuku glanced up. Aizawa had two bowls of egg fried rice in hand. He offered one bowl and a set of chopsticks to Izuku and the teen took it with a thankful bow. “Who’s Zashi?”

“Present Mic. He’s my best friend.” He gestured to the last picture in the row on the wall. Izuku found a young Present Mic and Eraserhead both draped over a kid with floaty blue hair. “We met here at UA. We were inseparable, the three of us.”

“Who’s the third?”

“Oboro Shirakumo. He uh- he died in a training accident during our third year.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I was just being honest. We’ve grieved him.” The look in his eyes told Izuku the older hero wasn’t telling the whole truth. “Anyway, Zashi and I are often roommates. He's been crashing here since he didn’t want to move into the teacher’s dorms just to move into the 1C dorms when the next school year starts.”

Izuku stared at the picture for a while. He often wondered what might have happened if he’d died as a kid. He thought about death a lot, and how it might be easier if he did die. But the pain coming off Aizawa’s shoulders made Izuku rethink his position on his own death. There was a glossy sort of agonized lie in Aizawa’s eyes. He was still grieving his friend’s death. Would anyone have grieved Izuku’s death?

If he’d let that train run him over yesterday…would anyone have that look in their eyes ten years from now?

No. Izuku didn’t believe so. 

~

Izuku waited silently on Aizawa’s little balcony past the kitchen, at the back of the building. It faced one of the exterior walls of the campus, but they were high enough that Izuku could see over them, to the city beyond. Aizawa was on a call with Tsuki, they’d been on a call all morning while the judge deliberated Inko’s arraignment and the custody of her one child. Izuku wasn't hopeful, he wasn’t thoughtful, he wasn’t anything. He knew how this would play out because he knew how it always played out. He understood his place in the world, and maybe this once, he was okay with it. 

The clock on his phone told him it was nearing noon. Aizawa’s hushed, angry voice came from inside. The judge must have delivered his decision, and it wasn’t a decision that Izuku’s temporary guardian liked. Again, he was filled with the unfairness of this whole situation. When he looked down, he found his hands bloody again, cut by his own clenched fingers. 

“Shit, what happened?!”

Izuku nearly jumped out of his seat when Aizawa appeared and grabbed his hands. 

“Izuku?”

“I-I’m fine. I just…It happens sometimes.”

The older hero didn’t respond while he grabbed a dish towel and dabbed the blood from Izuku’s palms. As he did, he saw the crescent-shaped scars littering the teen’s hands, a remnant of past abuses. The ones he’d just opened were freshly healed from RG’s quirk, so at least he hadn’t opened new wounds to make new scars. Once Aizawa got him cleaned up, he sighed heavily.

“How much did you hear?”

“I didn’t. I just assumed by your tone.”

“Mmm…” 

He clutched Izuku’s hands, but the teen wouldn’t look up. He wasn’t sure he could handle seeing disappointment in someone else’s eyes the way he knew it must have shown in his own. 

“The judge dropped the charges.”

“Uh huh.”

“Your registry has been reverted…and your mother’s custody was reinstated.” Tears dribbled on their hands, but they weren’t from Izuku’s eyes. He’d cried himself empty years ago. “I’m sorry, Izuku. I’m so fucking sorry.”

What good would apologies do for him now? 

Izuku pulled his hands from Aizawa’s grip and stood up. “Please take me home, Aizawa-san.”

“Izuku.”

“Please take me home. I was never meant to be here to begin with.”

He tried to grab Izuku’s arm but the teen shook him off and went inside to grab his shoes so they could leave. Nothing Aizawa could say would change the situation. UA had made a mess and failed to clean it up, and now Izuku would pay for his own dreams crashing around him like an earthquake. 

Izuku would go back to his life being the unwanted, the outcast, and the world would forget him again. 

~

Shouta couldn’t get himself out of the car when he got back to UA after dropping Izuku off at his mother’s apartment. The way that woman slammed the door after Izuku went inside sent shivers down Shouta’s spine. So, when he got back, he sat with his feet on the ground and his ass still stuck in the car seat. Head in his hands, he tried to fight the dread filling his bones. 

Nedzu walked up at some point and sat on the ground at Shouta’s feet. He didn’t say anything, and really, what the hell could he say that would ever repair what they’d just broken? Shouta just willingly handed a child to his primary abuser. On top of that, they’d made his situation worse; the judge had ruled that Izuku’s registry was now locked, and his quirk status could not be changed as there was no reason to change it as he ‘wouldn’t miraculously manifest a quirk’.

“Nedzu?”

“Yes, Shouta?”

“She’s going to kill him.” He sucked down a shaky breath. “She’s going to kill him, and we’re letting her do it. How- how am I supposed to call myself a hero now?”

“I signed that boy’s execution the minute I tried to change his registry…I don’t know how to look my students in the eyes after this.”

Shouta had never once expected his life to take a turn this dark. He’d always wanted to be a hero, he’d always wanted to save the children left in the dark like he was. Shouta understood Izuku’s plight in a way he did not wish to explain, in a way he did not want to remember. So, he didn’t, he found the will to stand instead.

“I’m taking my PTO.”

“What?”

“The PTO I never take. I’m taking it. Consider my off duty for the next two weeks…if I need it. I hope I won’t need it.”

Nedzu stood up, confused. “What are you going to do with it?”

“My damn job, Nedzu. I’m going to make sure that boy doesn’t die because of me.”

The old chimera sighed. “Very well.”

~

The first two days were perfectly normal. That is, perfectly normal for Izuku’s quirkless life. His mother returned to her throne over the house, and Izuku returned to his life as the maid, chef, and servant to his mother’s needs. She didn’t say a single word to him, not in forty-eight hours. Her eyes were hard, her lip peeled up in ugly sneers, but she did not once speak to Izuku. It’s like he was now in some lower space where even addressing him verbally might make her sick to her stomach. 

Izuku almost missed the fried rice he had with Aizawa. He found a few things to sneak from the fridge when his mother was at work on a later shift, and he managed to swipe a couple candy bars from one of the convenience stores a few blocks from home. He did now change out his shoes once he left the house so people who didn’t know him wouldn’t recognize him as quirkless. 

When he came back to his room the first night, though, he found a bento from the convenience store he’d just left sitting on his windowsill. He knew it was from Eraserhead, from Aizawa. He was probably following Izuku while he was on his nightly patrols, and watched the teen steal something small just to eat. Would he think less of Izuku now that he knew Izuku was a thief? Did Izuku even care what Eraserhead thought of him? He ate the bento anyway. 

Izuku was on the ground, scrubbing the floors, when his mother came home on the third night. The rattle of her keys sent a jolt of adrenaline through Izuku’s nerve endings. He gulped down a few breaths and tried to just ignore his mother’s presence. If they pretended she wasn’t there, then maybe she would keep pretending she wasn’t acknowledging him. Except, when her footsteps stopped at the kitchen doorway, Izuku knew it wouldn’t work this time. 

“Get up.”

Izuku placed the scrub-brush in the bucket of soapy water and stood up to face his mother, placing his latex cleaning gloves on the edge of the sink as he turned. She stood there soaked to the bone. It’d been raining all day, he sort of forgot once he got into the zone of cleaning. She was dripping all over his clean floors, and for the first time, that angered Izuku. 

“We are done pretending like our lives are normal. Nothing about this is normal.”

No. It wasn’t. But what was normal in Izuku’s life? He honestly didn’t even know anymore. The last two days felt pretty normal, outside of the lack of his mother’s screams.

Inko stepped outside the kitchen and pointed to the hall bathroom. Izuku closed his eyes and mentally resigned himself to his fate. Inko used to do this when he was younger. If he was being argumentative or questioning his place, Inko would take him to the bathroom.

“Mom, please.”

“Now.” She barked. 

Izuku winced. Her quirk had activated, his whole body had started to slowly inch across the kitchen. She was deliberately tugging on him lightly. It was a test, to see if he’d cave in and do what she wanted. This was how she understood winning. If Izuku gave in because he didn’t want to be hurt worse than he knew he knew he would be, she’d smirk like she’d won some award for parenting her quirkless child the ‘right way’. 

Izuku caved. He walked past his mother to the bathroom, stripping off his hoodie and shirt in the process, leaving them folded neatly on the bathroom counter when he walked past it to the tub to turn it on and let it fill. 

“Tell me what you’ve done this time.”

“Mom, I didn’t-”

“TELL ME!”

Izuku’s body was yanked to its knees, both joints cracking on the bathroom tiles painfully as her quirk slammed him down. Izuku grabbed the edge of the tub to keep himself from smacking his face into it. His mother’s hand grabbed the back of his head, her fingernails immediately digging into his scalp. She repeated her command in his ear, a crude whisper that made bile rise in Izuku’s throat.

“I tried to pretend I had a quirk. I tried to cheat my way into the position of a quirked student who rightfully earned their space at UA. I tried to run from the only home I had.”

He knew what she wanted to hear. That didn’t make saying it any easier. This time, he felt like he was lying. This time, he knew he was lying. Izuku hadn’t done anything wrong this time. He’d been chasing his dreams and trying to better his life, and someone else fucked shit up. So this time, his fingers clenched around the edge of the tub in an effort to keep him from screaming in his mother’s face. 

The world became a muted bubbled nonsense. His mother’s voice howled above him, but Izuku couldn’t hear the words. His eyes squeezed shut as she held his head beneath the water of the filled tub. At first, the silence was wanted, it was easy and almost enjoyable. But even after all these years, he had never learned to hold his breath for long. 

Izuku’s hands slipped along the edge of the tub, his limbs finding fight he wasn’t even sure he had anymore. Inko clawed the back of his head, her other hand held his chest to the tub edge. He thrashed beneath her. Lungs screaming and eyes on fire, Izuku fought the urge to open his mouth. The hunger was there. He could so easily open his mouth, take a long breath and let the world drift away into darkness. 

So why was he fighting this time?

“You deserve to exist and be loved and cared for like every other kid.”

Aizawa’s words became the will to fight. Izuku wanted to exist, he wanted to be loved and cared for like a normal child. He wanted to be accepted, to be seen and understood. He didn’t want to open his eyes and find himself two inches from a speeding train ever again.

Izuku threw his elbow back with every ounce of strength he had left. Her grip loosened. Water went everywhere, a gasp of oxygen struck his lungs, choking him. Izuku flailed, struggling to find ground, which way was up? He couldn't see, his eyes were burning from the hot water, his lungs were coughing up water with every half-choked breath. 

“You ungrateful little monster!” Inko screamed. Izuku’s body slammed into the side of the tub, her hands at his throat. She stood above him, her feet in growing inches of water as the tub flooded the apartment and overflowed the drain.

Izuku could not do this again, ever again. He would not let her kill him. If he let her take his life, she’d win. She’d finally fucking win, and Izuku only just found someone who could see him as something more than just a quirkless beast taking up space. If he could find that, then maybe he could find somewhere where he didn’t feel the need to let his mother kill him. 

His foot slammed into her knee with a sickening crunch. She flailed like a deck of cards, a howl of pain on her lip as she fell backwards. In a split second, her head smacked into the counter edge, the scream cut out, and her body crumpled onto the floor in front of him. Blood pooled in the water around her head, swirling around the overloaded drain at the center of the room. 

Inko wasn’t breathing.

Izuku’s whole world came to a screeching halt. He sucked a breath down that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. The adrenaline dropped, pain erupted across his body. An unsettling dizziness filled his skull and weighed down his limbs. He tried to grab the tub to pull himself off the ground, only to end up splashing back to the ground when his limbs gave out. 

His mother was dead. Izuku had killed her. 

“Sh- o-” He fell into a coughing fit, more water erupting from his windpipe. “Shouta!” He knew his temporary guardian was watching. He knew from the bento on his windowsill just the other night. He knew from the shadows in the dark, and the weight of eyes he’d felt on his shoulders for the last few days. “Shouta!!”

The bathroom door smashed open, embedding the handle into the drywall. Shouta sidestepped Inko and ran right to Izuku and grabbed his face, checking him over while the teen coughed up a few more drops of water. 

“What did she do? What did she do?!"

He shook his head but splintering pain stopped him. Speaking wasn’t possible anymore. His throat hurt so much. Calling for help was all he had in him. The edges of his vision were turning black. 

“Izuku. Izuku! Stay with me! I need you to stay awake, can you do that?”

He nodded, or thought he nodded. Maybe he didn’t. 

“Nedzu, I need everyone….yes, everyone. The kid’s a mess. I think she tried to drown him…No, I don’t know. She’s dead. The apartment was flooding when I came in. His neck is purple. I do not know the extent of his injuries.”

Shouta’s voice and a mix of others faded out as Izuku tried to stay awake. He didn’t want to pass out. If he did, he might wake up in a jail cell for killing his mother. 

He was scared, and for once, he wasn’t scared of living. Izuku was scared that if he let go to the darkness, he’d never wake up. 

~

Staring at the wall clock in the infirmary for four hours straight was not what Shouta had in mind. The monstrous woman was dead, and Izuku had been in treatment for several hours now. He didn’t know anything, and UA was cleaning up a mess at the kid’s house. 

As far as Shouta could figure out, Inko had tried to drown her son in the bathtub. Izuku had somehow managed to get her off and when she fell backwards into the sink, she cracked her skull and died on impact. The bathroom and hall were flooded, but the drain in the bathroom had helped prevent further damage, and hopefully there wasn’t any water dripping below that might cause someone to question what happened above. 

“Hey, Sho, you okay?”

“Zashi…I- I-”

“Shhh, it’s okay, you don’t need to speak.”

Hizashi wrapped himself around Shouta, a hug he desperately needed. The waiting room chairs were stupidly uncomfortable, and splitting their hug over the arms was miserable, but Shouta didn’t care. He clung to his best friend’s side and tried to keep himself from breaking open and falling apart.

“Any news?”

Shouta shook his head. 

“Everything was taken care of at the house. Nedzu is working on a path forward.”

That was all Shouta needed to know. The evidence of this atrocious day was gone, and Nedzu was going to protect the child they’d failed. They were going to give him a better life, a real chance to be a normal kid. How? Shouta didn’t know, but he knew that Nedzu would make this right. 

Hizashi tapped his shoulder. Chiyo was there when he lifted his head from the blonde’s shoulder. She collapsed into a chair across from them and pulled a scrub cap off her head with a heavy sigh. Neither man spoke, they were waiting for her to tell them the bad news, because there was no way she didn’t have bad news with a look that grim on her face. They didn’t have to wait long. 

“He’ll live. It was touch and go for a while, she crushed his windpipe with her quirk and his lungs were water-logged, but he’s stable.” She had a towel in her hand and wiped it over her sweaty face before continuing. “Somehow, she miraculously didn’t break his neck, but we had to reconstruct a section of his esophagus with a couple different healing quirks and surgical stabilization. Right now, he’s breathing on his own but he has to be tubed to support his rebuilt esophagus from the inside, with a brace on the outside.”

Hizashi dared speak up first. “What does that mean…for the boy, for his future?”

“We won’t know the full extent of the damage until he’s healed enough to remove the tube and wake up. There is a very high chance he’ll be mute, but so long as we let the quirks run their course, he shouldn’t have any issues with breathing or eating.”

“Any other injuries?” Shouta choked the words out.

Chiyo nodded. “Yes, but they’re not concerning. He re-broke his left wrist, fractured his right tibia, along with a few other fractures in his right foot. His kneecaps are also fractured, almost like he landed flat on them. The good news is that’ll all heal in a couple rounds of my quirk. The bruising is extensive, though, that’s what I’m worried about. We’re concerned he may develop blood clots, so we have him on blood thinners for a while.”

Hizashi hugged Shouta’s head to his chest, already in tears. He’d always been the crybaby between them. Meanwhile, Shouta was biting the inside of his cheek to stay calm. 

“He’s out of the woods, but he still has a long trail ahead of him. I’ll be sending Nedzu a form for his current school so he can be excused, or fill out whatever plan that madman comes up with. There’s no way he’s attending the last few weeks of classes. He’ll be sedated for at least a week, if not two plus, while his throat heals. We’ll go from there.”

“Thank you, Chiyo.”

“Don’t thank me yet. Thank me when that boy walks out of here without fear of another raised hand.”

Shouta would make sure that would happen.

~

3 weeks later

The dull ache of being conscious settled in long before Izuku opened his eyes. He felt better than he expected to feel, which meant he likely wasn’t at a hospital. Had Shouta brought him back to UA? Maybe that was better, maybe he would be safer here.

When Izuku finally deigned to open his eyes, he found the lights dimmed and the hum of too many machines buzzing around him. His body was hooked up to a million things; ports, IVs, sticky tabs and monitors. Izuku didn’t understand why. Did his mother get so close to killing him? He knew he’d been in pain but the rush of fighting his mother had kept him from actually feeling most of it until right before he passed out. 

Oh. 

Right.

Inko was dead.

Izuku killed her.

He knew it wouldn’t matter if he did so in self-defense, he was quirkless and his mother wasn’t. A quirkless kid murdered his quirked mother. No judge would side with him. No court would look at him and see an abused child finally standing up for himself. He’d be thrown in jail and they’d throw away the damn key. 

The door slid open quietly and Recovery Girl walked in. She gave him what might have been an encouraging smile if it wasn’t for the sad look in her eyes that Izuku was sure she thought she was hiding well. 

“Good morning, dear. I’m going to check your vitals and detach you from some of these leads. You relax, don’t try to speak, alright?”

Izuku nodded, or rather, he tried to. He hadn’t noticed his neck was in a brace until he tried to move more than his eyes. 

“Do you remember what happened?”

Izuku groaned a short noise of agreement.

“Okay. I’m going to go over a few things so you understand your condition.”

The nurse worked quickly to pry off the little stick pad leads attached all over his body. She unhooked the IV’s but left the ends bandaged to his skin for now. She checked a few monitors and made some notes before taking the remainder of his leads off. His blood pressure was taken, and his neck was inspected. After the woman seemed satisfied, she unhooked the neck brace and explained what was going on. 

“Your mother crushed your throat with her quirk. We had to reconstruct it with medical quirks and surgical stabilization. She also nearly drowned you, we had to drain your lungs and give you oxygen therapy while you were out.”

His throat was crushed? He didn’t even remember how hard his mother had grabbed him, but he knew she’d slammed him into the tub by his neck. 

“You had a few other broken bones from the fight, but those healed up nicely. Due to the severe bruising, we had to keep you on blood thinners to prevent a blood clot from forming, and I’m satisfied the bruising is mostly healed now.”

Recovery Girl pressed a button on the bedrail beside his head and the bed whirred upwards so Izuku was almost sitting upright without any effort from his own exhausted body. She offered him a cup with a straw in it, and Izuku happily took it with both hands. She warned him to take it slow. The coolness of water down his throat was a relief he’d never known. He might have starved a few times, but he’d never been this dang thirsty before. 

“The last thing we need to discuss is your voice.” Izuku tilted his head. She’d asked him not to speak. He now assumed that was because his throat was still healing, but was it? “Due to the damage that woman caused, I’m concerned that you may be unable to speak. I want you to take things slow. If you have any pain at all, stop, but if you feel up to it, you can try to speak.”

Izuku almost didn't want to try. The thought of losing his voice completely after already telling his guardian he'd given it up in some effort to exist…the white-hot swelling of fear ate away at his muscles. All he could manage was to shake his head.

“That's okay, you don't have to try right now. How about food? Aizawa should be back soon, he's been with Yamada almost non-stop since he brought you back. I think our voice hero is keeping him sane.”

She waited for Izuku to nod at her suggestion of food before leaving the room. 

Izuku glanced at the windows after her footsteps vanished from the hallways. Some part of him wanted to get out of bed, but Izuku was almost too scared to try, just like with his voice. What if he couldn’t speak? How was he supposed to live without being able to communicate? What kind of job could he get now? 

Wait… wasn't he a wanted murderer now? Would the Commission come knocking on his door in a few days once he was no longer dying? Maybe they'd put him in Tartarus Prison. Or maybe they'd just lock him in some basement in an orphanage and forget he had ever existed. 

He probably deserved it.

“Izuku!”

The teen startled sideways in bed when Shouta crashed through the door. For the second time, he was grabbing Izuku’s face and checking him over for wounds. Izuku gave him a confused look, unsure why he was doing this when Recovery Girl said he was fine now, or well, mostly fine.

“Its been three weeks…forgive me, I was worried.” 

Izuku cracked his lips open. The sudden urge to answer the one parental figure who'd shown him love was strong, but his throat was not. Nothing came out but an airy rasp. Izuku sighed in frustration.

“It's alright, you don't have to try. I'm pretty sure I can guess what you want to say.” Shouta chuckled while Izuku stared at him with one eyebrow arched. “You're wondering why I'm wasting my worry on you, right?” 

Oh, yeah, he called that one. The older hero shook his head and ruffled Izuku’s curls, which were surprisingly clean for being in a coma for three weeks.

“When I broke into that bathroom, Izuku, I thought I'd be carrying you out in a body bag. I- I handed you over to her. I let you walk into a house I knew might be the death of you.” He finally collapsed into the chair next to the bed. “I felt like a monster.”

Izuku leaned across the space between them and grabbed Shouta’s hand so he'd stop pulling at his hair. The older hero looked up with teary eyes full of fear.

Carefully, Izuku drew his closed fist in a circle on his chest. It was the only sign language he knew.

“I'm sorry.”

“No.” Shouta stood up in an instant and clutched Izuku’s hands. “You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about. None of this was your fault, Izuku. Do you understand that.” The teen made a half-hearted grumbled agreement. “This was about adults failing to protect you like we're supposed to. I'm the one that's sorry. We should have stopped it, we wanted to, we tried to, but we failed. I can only hope you can let us try to make things right, and I know I'm asking for too much, for a third chance, but I really think we can get it right this time.”

Izuku wasn’t sure they could. The system was designed to oppress people like him. It was designed for quirkless kids to fail. Izuku had no idea how they could possibly fix any of this, but he knew that anything they were willing to try was probably ten times better than anything the Commission might have in store for him.

Izuku managed to rasp out enough letters for Shouta to understand he said okay. The hero hugged him, full and tight. Izuku couldn't remember the last time he'd been hugged like he'd seen in movies and on TV. It felt nice…warm. Wanted. 

He felt…wanted, for the first time in years. These people were the first example of heroes Izuku had met in a world overrun with them. He found a pen and pad of paper on the bedside table and pointed to it while tapping his guardian's shoulder.

“Hmm? Oh, sure. Here.”

Izuku scribbled a quick note. “It was your voice I heard when Inko grabbed me, telling me I had a right to exist. I'm happy I didn’t step in front of that train. Seeing you walk into the bathroom was the first time I wasn't afraid to live. I was afraid to die.”

Shouta’s face nearly broke open. Izuku couldn’t imagine the kind of pain he must be in. He’d said it already -  he sent a child to his death. He knew if he let Izuku walk into that apartment, there was a very high chance he wouldn’t live through the week, and he almost didn’t. But it was Shouta’s words, his belief that Izuku was just as important as everyone else, that got Izuku through it. 

‘Thank you.’ He mouthed.

“I will probably spend the rest of my life making these failings up to you, but I am so glad that you are here, that you want to be here. We want you here, in this life, at UA, happy. You are wanted, Izuku.”

Something wet rolled down Izuku’s cheeks. It took far too many seconds to realize that it was his own tears streaming down his face. The last time he cried had been when Inko held him down on the floor and broke his bones. He’d been so empty, so exhausted, that crying had been too difficult, too emotional for his numbed mind. Being told he was wanted, that his life had value, brought a flood of buried feelings to the forefront of his mind. 

Shouta climbed into the bed and wrapped himself around Izuku. The teen clung to his guardian and let the tsunami crash over him. Choked, crackled noises erupted from his throats in what might have been anguished sobs. Shouta became a strong tree in a howling storm that Izuku could ground himself to so he could ride the wind to the end, until his body decided it had finally emptied itself of every trapped emotion and fear tangled around his brainstem. 

When he finally got his breathing under control again, Izuku wiped his eyes with the heel of his palm and sniffled. He wanted to say something, but his throat wouldn’t cooperate. Shouta could tell he was struggling, the pen and pad of paper was handed over again. 

“Is the Commission coming?”

“Ah. I figured that would come up.” Shouta clicked his tongue. “No. Nedzu…he had his ways of fixing problems. Not everyone agrees with them, but this time…well, no one could argue his desire to right the wrongs done to you.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that Inko’s death never happened. She left the country, abandoning her son…who was later found to have left a note and his shoe on a bridge.”

Izuku blinked a few times before replying on paper. “You faked my death and my mother’s disappearance?”

“Basically. Nedzu created a new Identity for you, or well, he’s working on it. We wanted to go over the details with you before finalizing it. Since you were out for three weeks while healing, it gave us time to make things…believable.”

“How so?”

“Well, we got all your things, and everything else is in a storage unit here at UA if you want any of it. Your mother’s apartment was sold and your mother’s account purchased a flight and left the country. Nedzu is good with making money trails, it’s actually his expertise. Faking your death was easier due to your quirklessness. The police didn’t even glance at the report before closing it and filing your red shoes away in an evidence box.”

He hated how easy it was, but also appreciated that so much work went into freeing him from the nightmare of Japanese quirk society. Shouta gave one of those shy smiles, where someone was going to say something they were unsure of but hoped wouldn’t start a fight. 

“My sister died in a car accident a few years ago. So, Nedzu’s idea was to create your new identity as my nephew that I adopted after her death. He’s good at paper trails, like I said, so it wouldn’t be hard to do. We just- uhm- wanted you to think about it before…”

“Yes.” Izuku wrote it out so fast the kanji were almost too jittery to read. “Yes, a thousand times yes.”

Shouta laughed. “Okay, okay. Yes, I’ll let him know you agree.”

“I still want to be Izuku, but would I be Izuku Aizawa?”

“Yes, if that’s alright. You’ll also have an IQ quirk on your record, too. My sister had something similar and we had a few in our family so it makes sense.”

“I can…really be free?”

“Yes.” Shouta ruffled his curls again, making Izuku choke out a laugh. “I told you, we’re trying to make up for all our failures. You deserve to live a happy life. I’d like to try and give that to you.”

Again he mouthed ‘thank you’ and hugged his guardian, his new adopted father. Izuku was getting a second chance at life, something so rarely offered to anyone these days. He was going to be able to be a normal person, he wouldn’t have to be kicked and tripped on the train or in stores. He could do his best in school without being accused of lying just because of his quirk status. Everything he earned would be his, and not ripped from his grasp like before. 

Izuku was excited to live for maybe the first time in his life. 

~

Nedzu faked Izuku’s death quite well. Shouta was right, no one questioned it, the police just handwaved the case, and Izuku Midoriya vanished into the void of a police station closed case storage room to be destroyed on some annual schedule. Inko Midoriya’s paper trail put her somewhere in Thailand, enjoying the life of an unmarried woman with no children. Anyone who looked into the case would see a bow knit tidy enough that it made sense, not tight enough to look suspicious. 

Recovery girl released Izuku from the infirmary about a week ago. He’d been formally adopted by Shouta two years prior, according to the paperwork, so they both formally moved into the Class A dorms once Cementoss finished constructing them while Izuku was comatose. 

It took a few days for him to equalize and find a rhythm due to his new muteness. More than once, he nearly crashed out when he tried to get Shouta’s attention by various means but the frying pan was too loud or a firetruck wailed down the street, and Izuku was unintentionally ignored. Shouta apologized both times, but it wasn’t his fault, Izuku knew that. He didn’t blame his guardian at all. 

After the second time, Shouta asked Power Loader for help. In hours he’d produced something simple, but effective. It was based off those ‘romance at a distance’ bracelets. Izuku had a ‘sender’ bracelet and anyone could wear a ‘receiver’ bracelet When Izuku tapped the button on his bracelet twice, it would signal all active receiver bracelets with a light, a vibration, and an audible chime. If he tapped the button three times, it would send an urgent alarm. Shouta wore his at all times, always active, while other UA staff members like Nedzu and Recovery Girl kept theirs close and wore it when Izuku was in the same room. The urgent alarm would set them off, even if they weren’t active, a setting Shouta insisted upon, and Izuku agreed with. 

Yamada had agreed to teach him JSL, but it would be a while before he could confidently sign conversationally, so Izuku was working through an app to get the basics down. He hoped to be proficient enough by the time school started in about six months. Izuku would be spending the summer in Hokkaido with Shouta. He was on loan to the prefecture as they didn’t have any underground heroes or agencies there, and every few years the underground heroes would rotate summers there as a ‘just in case’. Shouta didn’t expect any big arrests, and usually, his work there included a few small drug ring busts and some general polite clearing of nighttime prostitution corners. 

“Do you have everything you want from storage for the trip?”

Izuku shrugged. He took out his phone, a text-to-speech app always up in the background. “I got everything I want period. Can you tell Nedzu he can either trash or sell the rest? I don’t need her stuff.”

“Sure.” He tossed the last of his own bags into the back of his black SUV and held out a hand for Izuku’s bag. “So, I’m new to the whole dad thing and all…uhh- Zashi asked if he could help you with stuff you might need for school and all that. He’s going to head up tomorrow, he’ll be with you while on duty during the nightshift. Is that okay?”

Izuku nodded. “Mhm!” He’d mastered yes and no with just grunts and hummed noises, which Recovery Girl was counting as great progress thus far. But his phone did all the longer sentences. “When are you going to admit Yamada is more than just a roommate to you?”

“Ohhhh, you know, probably when hell freezes over, pigs fly, and someone takes Endeavor off the damn top heroes list.” He sighed. “It’s not that I don’t…care about him. I do. There’s just a lot of complicated emotions in our past that tangled us up.”

“Okay, then sort it out. Normal kids get to make icky faces at their parents when they kiss and stare lovingly into each other’s eyes. I want a normal childhood where I can make fun of you both.” Izuku stuck his tongue out and made his new, signature raspy laugh. 

“Oh, you do, huh?” The trunk door slammed shut. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you might just miss out on that fun little piece of childhood.”

Izuku made a garbled moan that actually sounded like “Lame!” and Shouta snorted. 

“Get in the car, kiddo.”

The ride to Hokkaido was pretty boring, but they talked about a lot. Izuku learned that Shouta only drank his coffee blank, with a dash of cinnamon to break the bitter taste. He also learned that Shouta loved cats, he fed a ton of strays. Apparently, since they were away for the summer, Shouta’s police partner and best friend Tsukauchi was taking care of all the strays. If he didn’t move around so much due to work and UA, Shouta swore he’d have a whole house of cats he rescued. Izuku honestly believed him. 

Izuku told his new guardian about his obsession with quirk analysis. Most of his notebooks had been ripped up or burned by his mother as part of various punishments. He did manage to save a few, which he now had thanks to Nedzu grabbing all their stuff from the apartment before selling it. Shouta listened to him prattle on (via his phone’s voice) about his quirk theories and some of the assessments he made of a few top heroes. Izuku assumed Shouta was enjoying it since he was smiling for at least two hours throughout the boring lecture. He didn’t seem to smile much, or often, but this was genuine and it met his eyes. 

They arrived at the base of a mountain, which honestly shocked Izuku. He hadn’t been aware they’d be staying this far north, and he’d never personally been to the northern-most regions of the country, anyway. 

“It’s not glamorous, but it’s part of the compensation for coming up here a few months every few years.”

“I’ve never stayed in a cabin before.”

“Well, it’s not miserable, I promise. This one has indoor plumbing, and hot water. I’ve stayed in far worse situations.”

“Does it have cable? Internet?”

“Ah…well, no.” Shouta shrugged, a duffle bag in each hand. “But I did get you the unlimited data plan for your new phone. So, I think you’ll survive.”

“Is there even service this far north?”

“Usually, mostly. When it’s not windy.”

Izuku dropped his head and sighed. He lifted one hand to sign ‘O.K’ and wave off the conversation. Shouta laughed. 

“Come on, kid. Car won’t unpack itself. You brought all your schoolwork for Nedzu, right?”

“Mhmmm…”

“No moaning and groaning, you do have to finish your middle school curriculum before high school.”

Izuku huffed. “But I’m dead, aren’t I?”

“Fake dead, yes. But even fake dead kids have to get good grades. Come on, grab your bags.”

They unloaded the car before heading inside, both lugging their bags like they were carting bricks uphill. The house was uphill. Izuku grumbled to himself as they hauled their small, packed up lives into the modern-looking cabin on its own hill. The place was clean, tidy, and sparsely decorated. The couches were new-ish and seemed soft. At least the fridge and cabinets were stocked. 

“What do people even do on mountains? Read books?”

“Zashi said he planned to take you skiing. There’s also a couple spring festivals happening that you could check out. He’s absolutely going to spoil you because he knows I won’t.”

Izuku chuckled. “So you’re admitting this is a co-parenting setup?”

“I’ve never admitted anything in my life.” 

“You’re lying through your teeth, Shouta.”

The hero tossed his duffle bags on the couch and gave Izuku a smug look. “I’m the only person on Earth who can beat Tsuki’s truth quirk. I only tell the truth when I’m sure that I'm lying.”

“I bet you I can beat his quirk, too.”

“Ah-” Shouta scoffed. “Was that a mute joke? So soon?”

“I’m empowered, Shouta. Recovery becomes me.”

They stared at each other for a solid fifteen seconds of silence. One second longer, and they were both doubled over laughing. Izuku had never just spent days smiling almost non-stop. But here, every day was a new adventure in understanding what being loved truly meant. 

He’d once read that as people grow, they become the product of love, or the product of love they do not receive. Izuku had once become a product of love he never received. Slowly, he was becoming the product of an overwhelming amount of love that he so desperately needed, a love that was changing the course of his life, in all the best ways.