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Shouta has always seen things for how they are. He saw how Todoroki was cold and too stoic for his age. He saw how Tokoyami was afraid of the dark. He saw how Shinsou would always talk in statements, never willing to ask questions.
He solved a lot of these problems. Shouta researched Todoroki’s homelife, and scanned his student file and records. It wasn’t rocket science to find out what had been going on behind the scenes in the Todoroki household. It was easy to conspire with Nedzu to get Todoroki out of the house within the first two weeks of school, and now Todoroki lives at the Staff Dorms, with Hound Dog watching over him.
For Tokoyami, he personally gave him nightlights. Tokoyami had looked at him with the shine of tears in his eyes and thanked him. Shouta even suggested going to Hound Dog for help, and he was currently working on exposure therapy.
Shinsou’s fix was a little harder. But in the end, Shouta met with Shinsou’s father, and they spoke extensively about Shinsou’s past. From there, Shouta decided to have Shinsou visit Hound Dog. And then Shinsou said he didn’t like speaking to Hound Dog about personal stuff, purely due to the fact that he had a better relationship with Present Mic. So it ended up being Hizashi who ended up doing sessions with him.
And if Shouta was relieved to save Hound Dog from overworking himself, he didn’t say it. And if ‘Zashi never shut up about how adorable Shinsou was? Well, he could deal with that.
All of his kids were working and progressing. They were healing and growing.
But there was one of his kids that he couldn’t figure out. Izuku Midoriya was quiet. He had a Quirk called Silence that made his movements completely silent. The name, admittedly, wasn’t the most creative. But that’s not the kind of quiet Shouta means.
He was soft-spoken, sure. Which on its own shouldn’t be a cause for concern. The quiet Shouta is talking about is the kind of quiet that you develop from trauma. From abuse.
And that wasn’t all, either. Shouta rubbed his eyes and leaned into the couch, reading over Midoriya’s files.
He honestly didn’t know how he let it go on this long. Granted it had only been a few months since school started. Just after the Hosu Incident, but to Shouta that was far too long to be noticing something, and trying to fix it. He should’ve spoken to Midoriya about his concerns, or at least let him know that he was here for him.
But he didn’t. He just let the boy continue on, and only truly noticed Midoriya’s eerie silence once the dorms were built. And it was completely by chance that he began to pay more attention to Midoriya.
He hated it too. He had been so distracted by the less subtle students he had. The instance where Shouta finally became aware of the red flags, was when Midoriya set off the dorm alert system at three in the morning. The alert system was designed so Shouta would know if someone was awake when they weren’t supposed to be.
So, being the stoic softie he was, got out of bed to check on his kids to make sure they were just playing Minecraft or something as equally stupid. If they were, he’d give them melatonin and tell them to knock it off. If it was something like getting a snack, then Shouta would go back to bed. If it was something serious, he would deal with it.
When he got there, he soon realized it was option three. He walked into the dorms to instantly come face to face with a slightly hysterical Midoriya.
He says slightly because most hysterical people are screaming and crying. Midoriya’s version of hysterical was akin to a panic attack, with erratic whining that should’ve been a scream with how much he was trembling.
He was sitting on the kitchen floor, rocking back and forth, scrubbing at his tears that fell silently. His heart ached for his kid.
“Midoriya,” Shouta began with the utmost softness. Just enough to be heard. “What’s wrong?” \
Midoriya shook his head, muttering something under his breath. Shouta didn’t hear it the first time, but Midoriya said it again with no prompting. “Nightmare” he said, his eyes distant and cloudy.
He couldn’t say much else, but Shouta had gotten the gist of it. Still, it had taken Shouta an hour to calm him down enough for him to go back to sleep.
Shouta cursed himself for not seeing it sooner. Fuck.
His files were substantially thicker than any of his other students’ and not for good reason. There were many behavioral strikes against him, calling him a troubled child. They even went as far as to say that he picked fights and vandalized people’s things.
They called him a bully. They said he assaulted his classmates and then played it off like they’d been the ones hurting him.
Shouta immediately realized that these accounts against Midoriya were false. Midoriya could hardly get a single sentence in during class without someone unintentionally talking over him.
Midoriya didn’t even try to answer questions in class. He flinched when someone got too close. He only made himself known during training exercises, frightening his opponents by sneaking up on them.
He almost seemed like a ghost. Even more closed off than Todoroki had been. Even so, he still tried his best to save his classmates even when they weren’t close, like during the USJ where he stabbed Shigaraki in the eye with one of the many knives he had on hand. It saved Tsuyu’s life and probably Shouta’s as well.
And then, during the Hosu Incident, he nearly slit Stain’s throat.
Apparently Stain only survived because he was wearing body armor that only barely reached his throat.
But it was still strange, now that Shouta was delving into it. Even after all this time, why hadn’t Midoriya made real friends yet? Even Todoroki was trying to speak with his classmates and build connections.
Shouta realized that Midoriya hadn’t spoken more than a few words to his classmates, other than Iida and Uraraka, both of which wouldn’t leave Midoriya be. But to call them real friends would be a lie. Midoriya didn’t really seem interested in talking to them or reaching out.
Or maybe he just seemed that way, and Shouta was just being dramatic as usual.
He clenched his jaw as ‘Zashi sat down next to him. The Voice Hero just sat there for a few minutes as Shouta scratched his head at Midoriya’s files.
Not only did it have wildly conflicting accounts of his behavior compared to how he actually was in class, his file also listed him as a late bloomer. In fact, he hadn’t gotten his Quirk until a month or two before the Entrance Exam.
Which was… concerning… to say the least. Shouta hadn’t even noticed it. Midoriya acted as if he’d had this Quirk since the day he turned four. And it was unprecedented to get a Quirk that late, at fifteen.
It was honestly a miracle, but Midoriya acted as if his very existence didn’t defy the laws of Quirks. Acted as if everything was fine, when it was becoming obvious to Shouta that it wasn’t.
He sighed heavily. “What’s wrong Sho?” Hizashi asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve been sighing for an hour and a half.”
Shouta ran a hand through his greasy hair. He idly noted that he probably needed to shower before he started to stink. But Midoriya came first.
“Have you… I don’t know, noticed anything off about Midoriya?” Shouta asked, gesturing to the files sitting on the coffee table.
“Hm…” Hizashi began, seeming to think back on it for a long moment. “He’s really quiet, so I don’t really pay too much attention. Sorry…”
“It’s okay.” Shouta sighed again, and Hizashi’s expression fell. “I didn’t even pay him any mind until just recently,”
“Is something wrong with him?” Hizashi asked, grabbing onto Shouta’s hands. “Is he okay?”
“I’m not sure. The other day I got an alert about someone being awake in the dorms, so I went to see who it was and what they were doing awake at three in the morning. I found Midoriya in the middle of an episode. He told me he had a nightmare and it took me an hour to calm him down. It makes me wonder what kind of nightmare he had. So I started watching him. I noticed some concerning behavior.” He pointed to the files that Hizashi was going through. “And then I saw his files…”
“They make no sense,” Hizashi spat, having stopped at the section where his previous teachers said he was a troublemaker. “Midoriya is one of the easiest students I’ve ever had.”
“Exactly. And he was a late bloomer. A really late one. He didn’t get his Quirk until two months before the Entrance Exam.”
“W-what?” Hizashi sputtered in utter surprise. “But getting a Quirk that late… should be impossible!”
“Right?” Shouta grumbled in confusion.
There was a lull of silence, before Hizashi spoke up. “I didn’t know Midoriya was living on his own,” He said suddenly, furrowing his brow. “Did you?”
Shouta sat up instantly, his concern reaching new heights. “He lives alone? Where does it say that?”
“Right here,” Hizashi told him, pointing to one of the last pages of his file. “Says his mother and father both travel for work and they’re almost never home.”
“Then… how did he get one of his parents to sign the permission slip?” Shouta pondered out loud, before answering his own question. “Actually, I don’t think I visited his home. He’d said it wasn’t necessary and just handed me the signed permission slip. How didn’t I see this before?”
Hizashi gave him a comforting smile. “It’s not your fault, Shouta. We’re only human after all. We’re noticing it now, which is better than finding out when something happens to him.”
“What do I do?” Shouta grumbled angrily. He was angry at himself. “Nedzu just told us that we’re doing virtual classes after tomorrow because of the virus,”
“I think you should just talk to him, and go from there. Of course I wouldn’t mention anything about what you’ve figured out, but just let him know you’re there for him. Especially if he ends up going home instead of staying at the dorms,”
Shouta closed his eyes for a moment.
This Problem Child was going to be the death of him.
Izuku was always looking over his shoulder ever since leaving America. He was always looking for that mop of black hair that belonged to Hisashi Akatani. He was always looking for even one sign that the Dragon had come to Japan, to burn him alive.
To make sure he met the same fate as his mother.
Izuku lived every day of his life in fear. Like a noose tightening around his throat, hoping to strangle him to death.
And not to mention that school was on the verge of going virtual thanks to a mysterious virus that had been spreading around lately. He hoped he could stay in the dorms. He didn’t really want to go back to that apartment that was too quiet and too empty.
It was an apartment that his mother had paid for years ago, and left to Izuku when she died. Back when he first got to Japan, the apartment was his safe haven. But then he started UA, and he realized how lonely he’d been. How quiet and cold his life had been up to that point.
He was too used to Iida waking him up when his alarm didn’t work. He was too used to Uraraka and Denki playing card games with him. He was too used to companionship.
He was even too used to Sero’s endless quoting of whatever vine was, like right now. They were all sitting in class, waiting for Aizawa-sensei to arrive, and Sero kept saying something that was supposed to be funny. Everyone laughed but him.
Izuku tried his best to melt into the class. Someone that everyone just looked over. But his classmates always tried to talk to him, probably because of the crazy stunts he’d pulled all year. Like stabbing Shigaraki in the face. Or nearly killing Stain, even if only Iida knew about that one. Apparently, he was considered one of the strongest of the class, and he hated the attention it brought.
“Hey Midoriya, kero.” Tsuyu suddenly spoke up. Izuku looked over at her, and noted that everyone had stopped talking to hear him. Strange. “I’m usually a blunt person and I have a question.”
“Go ahead,” He told her, with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. His voice was considerably quieter than hers, but she didn’t even blink.
“Are you afraid of Todoroki-kun?” She asked, tapping her lips. Her head was tilted slightly in question. “I just wanted to ask because you’ve been avoiding Todoroki-kun for a while…”
Izuku froze, stealing a glance around the room. At some point during the conversation, Aizawa-sensei had taken a seat on the ground at the front of the classroom. Everyone was staring, waiting for a response. He could feel his heart rate increase rapidly. He could feel sweat begin to accumulate on his brow. His skin was burning with the collective gaze of his classmates and teacher.
He hated being stared at.
“I-I’m not afraid of Todoroki-kun… I’m sorry if I came off that w-way,” Izuku told her, pretending that his skin wasn’t on fire. Pretending that he didn’t want to crawl in a hole somewhere and hide.
“Oh.” Tsuyu replied, “Okay,”
And then Aizawa-sensei started class. “First of all,” He began tiredly, pausing to yawn. “We won’t be having regular classes after today. We’ll be going virtual for all of our classes starting tomorrow. Nedzu already sent emails to your parents telling them everything they need to know. Of course you’re welcome to stay in the dorms and quarantine as a class if you like instead. I know some of you moved closer to UA and therefore live on your own, so just know that you have the option. UA is also providing all of it’s students with the technology necessary to participate in class, so don’t worry about that.”
Izuku didn’t like the way Aizawa-sensei’s eyes caught his own for a moment, before looking at Uraraka. They were eyes brimming with slightly veiled concern.
Why would Aizawa-sensei be concerned about him? He’d taken every precaution to be as invisible as possible, but what if it wasn’t working? He hated being stared at. Being noticed. Being acknowledged.
Being acknowledged meant pain. Being noticed meant screaming. Being stared at meant anger .
He hid his shaking hands under his desk.
“Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, let’s get started.”
Shouta didn’t actually want to have this conversation. Mostly because Midoriya already seemed extremely uncomfortable just from one look. He didn’t want to make it worse.
But the bell had already rung, and Midoriya would be gone if he didn’t say anything now. “Midoriya,” He spoke suddenly, making the boy stop very suddenly in his tracks. “Can you stay back for a moment?”
“We’ll wait for you!” Uraraka said, with a genuine and kind smile. She nudged Iida, who was standing next to her. “Iida lets go to the vending machine really fast. I kinda want a snack.”
“O-oh, okay,” Iida mumbled, with a slight dusting of pink on his cheeks. Shouta ignored it, instead opting to watch Midoriya.
He was already looking distressed.
“Y-you wanted to see me, Sensei?” He asked, his voice hardly above a whisper. “Have I done s-something wrong?”
Shouta sighed, which probably wasn’t the correct thing to do. “No Midoriya. I just noticed that you were uncomfortable today. I wanted to ask you what I can do to help.”
“What?” Midoriya responded, seeming to shrink. His face started to get flushed, and pale. “I-I’m fine! Really,”
Shouta didn’t want to push him. He didn’t want to stress the kid out more, and Midoriya already looked more uncomfortable than when he was in class. “Fine. But just know that I’m your teacher as well as a Pro-Hero. If you ever need anything don’t hesitate to talk to me about it.”
“O-Okay,” Midoriya whispered, shifting on his feet. “Am I good to go?”
“Are you planning on staying in the Dorms, or are you planning on going home?” Shouta asked, instead of answering. “Because if you’re staying here you’re free to go. If you’re going home, I’ll help you bring your stuff home,”
“I think I’m going to stay at the Dorms.”
“Because your parents are still overseas?” Shouta guessed. “Even during a pandemic?”
“Y-yeah…” Midoriya told him, “I’ll be going now,”
“Remember what I said, Midoriya. If you need anything…”
“Thank you,” Midoriya told him, before turning and leaving. Shouta had a feeling that this conversation hadn’t gone that well.
He slammed his head into his desk. “God damn it, I’m terrible with kids,”
“Could’ve been better, yeah.” Hizashi said, as he walked inside the classroom. “But he didn’t really want to talk and you told him that you were there for him if he needed anything.”
Shouta grumbled under his breath. “He doesn’t trust me,”
“Oh c’mon babe, you don’t know that.” Hizashi told him, probably smiling. Not that Shouta could see, because he was hiding his face on his desk. “He’s probably not used to anyone saying that they’re there for him. It probably made him uncomfortable.”
“Everything makes him uncomfortable, I'm realizing.”
“The poor kiddo,” Hizashi sighed, sounding heartbroken. “Kinda makes me wanna adopt him.”
“We can’t adopt him if he has parents, Hizashi.”
“But his parents are terrible!”
“We don’t have proof,” Shouta reminded him. “And I doubt his parents will be coming home soon to give us evidence.”
“At least he’s staying at the Dorms. I would hate for him to be all alone.”
“Me too,”
Izuku was walking to the dorms, past the front gates with Uraraka and Iida when it happened. Everything came crashing down. Like a castle made of glass, shattering his momentary fantasy of everything being okay.
“Mikumo!”
He stopped mid-step, and looked over at the front gates with wide, horrified eyes. Hisashi Akatani stood at the gates, in a pressed suit. There was a suitcase in his hand, and he was smiling.
But Izuku couldn’t breathe. “Mikumo?” Iida parroted, “Who is he speaking to? Whose Mikumo?”
“My boy,” Hisashi continued on, “Work let me work from home for a while thanks to the pandemic. Don’t you want to go home? It’s been so long since I last saw you!”
Hisashi was looking at him. The Dragon was looking at him. But Izuku was on the inside of UA’s gates, while the Dragon was on the other.
But that didn’t matter. Izuku knew it didn’t matter. Hisashi would burn the campus down to get his hands on Izuku. “Deku,” Uraraka whispered, grabbing his shoulder. Did she see the panic in his face? “Who is that man? Is he talking to you?”
“I’m his father, Hisashi,” Hisashi explained with a sheepish smile. “Let’s go home.”
Izuku was moving on his own, toward the gates. He could see smoke beginning to curl from his lips. A subtle threat. He could see the sharp smile that hid behind that mask.
“Okay,” Izuku whispered. He was itchy everywhere with panic. His eyes were burning with it, and he felt like he was on the verge of tears. “Okay,”
“Good boy,” Hisashi chuckled as soon as he’d crossed over the gate. He didn’t even give Uraraka and Iida a backward glance. They called out to him, but he gave no indication that he heard them.
Blood was roaring in his ears, and his entire body felt like it was on fire. He could feel Hisashi’s gaze on him, setting him aflame with terror. He was walking home with the Dragon. His father. A villain.
Specifically a villain who specialized in murdering Quirkless people. People like him.
Except Izuku was worse than regular Quirkless people. Most of them didn’t lie about having a Quirk to get into a Hero School. Most of them didn’t have a villain for a dad, who wanted to purge the world of all Quirkless people.
They almost got halfway to the apartment Izuku was living in when Hisashi finally spoke. “It’s good you decided to come quietly. If you hadn’t, I would’ve broken down the front gates. You know that, right?”
He reached up to do something. To ruffle his hair, or to pat his head, it didn’t matter. He flinched away. Hard.
“Tch.” Hisashi grumbled. “Still a scaredy cat, are you?”
He wrapped his hand around the back of Izuku’s neck and guided him to the door of their apartment.
“That’s fine.” He said as he held out his hand for the key. Izuku hastily handed it over, trying to ignore how his heart was beating too fast, and how everything was ending. Everything was falling apart. Everything was on fire. “I like it better this way anyway. It’s always more fun when they’re scared,”
Izuku could smell the smoke on his breath as he laughed.
The burning of his skin. Blisters that wouldn’t heal for months, because Hisashi never allowed them to. The hysterical screaming of his mother every time Hisashi breathed fire at them. His loud booming voice when he came home drenched in blood, laughing as the news covered his atrocities.
Every time he told Izuku to shut up. To be quiet. Quiet. Quiet. QUIET.
Izuku learned how to be silent. He learned to shy away from being acknowledged and seen. Because every time his dad stared at him it was because he was figuring out the best way to make him scream.
He was afraid of fire. He was afraid of being burned alive. He was afraid of dying.
The day his mother died was the day that Hisashi finally decided that it was time for Izuku to die.
He barely escaped, and Hisashi had no doubt been searching for him this entire time. Izuku wondered how long it would be until Hisashi killed him. He wondered how long it would take before Hisashi started killing people in Japan.
Hisashi looked around the apartment and clicked his tongue. “I guess your mom—” He flinched at that. “—had already prepared for you to escape me, huh?”
Izuku could hardly manage a nod. He couldn’t get enough air. He couldn’t breathe.
“I won’t kill you just yet, my boy,” Hisashi said with a sharp smile. He took a seat on the couch, but Izuku didn’t move. “Sit down.”
Izuku chewed harshly on his lip. His legs were locked in place, his knees practically knocking together. He didn’t want to sit down next to him.
“Sit down!” Hisashi yelled, his voice booming through the apartment. Izuku didn’t even register that he fell on his ass, and was protecting his face. For a second there was the only sound of his uneven breathing, hitching with sobs.
“Pathetic,” Hisashi snapped. “Utterly fucking pathetic, and they let you into the Hero Course?”
Izuku didn’t say anything. Hisashi got up from the couch and crept closer. He stopped right in front of him and crouched down. Smoke curled out from his mouth as he spoke. “That’s fine. I can use that to my advantage. You see, I’ve become friends with someone you might know. Shigaraki, right? He’ll be happy to know you’ll be spying for us,”
No. He couldn’t— He couldn’t spy on UA…
He had to say it. He had to stand up to him. He opened his mouth to speak, to tell him there was no way in hell that he was going to spy on UA of all places. He wanted to become a Hero! He wanted to save people!
And… UA was supposed to be safe. If he spied on them it wouldn’t be safe anymore.
“What?” Hisashi growled, his expression darkening with rage. “Are you about to tell me no?”
Izuku’s breathing was too loud. Tears spilled down his cheeks. Hisashi wrenched his arms away from his face and grabbed him by the jaw. “Say it.”
“I-I— c-c-ca—”
“Stop.” Hisashi growled, “Stop fucking stuttering. You know I hate that.”
He shoved Izuku away. “Get out of my sight. I don’t want to see you.”
Izuku scrambled away into his room, locking the door behind him. Once inside, he ducked into the closet to hide. Where his mother used to hide him when she could.
He didn’t feel safe. Even with two doors between them.
Shouta had started class and was waiting for everyone to quiet down before he started. Well, that and he was still waiting on Midoriya.
Ashido, whose hair was sticking up in all different directions, noticed it too. “Yo, where’s Mido?”
“I was just about to ask that.” Shouta mumbled.
“Well,” Uraraka began a bit awkwardly. And Hizashi from his place on their couch raised an eyebrow. “When we were walking back to the Dorms yesterday the UA gates were open. A man that looked sort of similar to Deku was standing there…”
It was Iida who spoke up then, his brow furrowed. “It was Midoriya’s father. He had called Midoriya Mikumo. He went home with him yesterday—”
Hizashi looked pretty concerned about that, but Shouta didn’t let it show on his face. It was just then that Midoriya joined the session. Shouta let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “I thought you were going to be staying in the Dorms, Midoriya.”
Only Iida, Uraraka, Todoroki and Jirou had stayed at the Dorms, but still.
“M-m-my father is w-working from h-home,” Midoriya replied quickly, and quieter than usual. It was difficult to hear him but Shouta didn’t want to embarrass him. And then they all heard it.
A male voice speaking in English, cutting through the eerie silence of Midoriya’s apartment. “I needed the shipment days ago!..”
Midoriya flinched. It was hardly there, but Shouta was a Pro trained to notice such things. But the only thing he could do was make sure that he made his classes as long as possible, so that if his theories that were forming were true, then he was offering Midoriya a few hours of peace.
He didn’t sleep that night.
Everyday, Izuku tried his hardest to stay in class even after they were over. He tried to get his homework done as fast as possible, and hold off on leaving. But he was being suspicious. He knew it.
After one particular time, Aizawa finally decided to ask him. “Midoriya,”
Izuku looked up at the camera on the computer Nedzu had given every student. “Y-yes?”
“Can I ask you why you always stay once classes are over?”
“U-um…” He paused. This was his chance right here, right now. To ask for help. To escape. But Hizashi would find him and kill anyone who was protecting him. The door to his bedroom open, creaking loudly. He paled.
“Mikumo. I’ll be going out to get a few things. I’ll be back.” Izuku nodded shortly, knowing that Aizawa-sensei was watching and listening. “Have you thought about what I asked you?”
He shook his head, hating the weight of Hisashi's angry glare. And then he left, and Izuku subconsciously let out a breath.
“What did he ask you?” Aizawa-sensei said once Izuku turned back to the call that they were still in. Izuku didn’t respond, hoping that Aizawa would drop it. “Midoriya?”
“N-n-nothing,” Izuku told him.
“Why does he call you Mikumo?” Aizawa asked instead. A safer question. Or maybe it wasn’t.
“I have to g-go,” Izuku responded.
Shouta started his class later than usual purely because he was searching for any mention of a Mikumo in Japan. There was none. At all.
And then there was breaking news about an American Villain named Dragon who suddenly showed up in Japan last night, and brutally murdered a Quirkless person. Incinerated. From his fire-breathing Quirk. And Dragon recorded it and posted it online.
Shouta was horrified, and it took him a minute to calm down to finally start class. Midoriya’s camera was disabled, and Shouta couldn’t help the way his stomach dropped.
“Havin’ a bad hair day, Mido?” Denki asked, completely innocently.
“Mhm,” came from Midoriya’s audio, hardly loud enough to be heard. It only served to deepen the well of anxiety building in him. But he wouldn’t force Midoriya to turn on his camera.
Throughout the classes, Midoriya’s camera was off.
“What I’m saying is that Quirkless people deserve it, don’t you think?”
“How does your son feel about that, Akatani?” Another voice piped up, terrifyingly familiar. But Shouta couldn’t place it. “All I’m saying is that Quirkless people are weak and easily manipulated. They’d be valuable assets if trained correctly.”
“I don’t care how he feels about it,” said Midoriya's father. “And I personally don’t think Quirkless people have an uses, even if trained,”
“But isn’t he—”
Midoriya left the call. Classes were awkward after that. Shouta was too distracted to pay much attention to what he was supposed to be teaching.
Because everything was making a terrifying amount of sense. Before he ended classes for the day, he asked Uraraka and Iida a question. “Did either of you catch the first name of Midoriya’s father?”
“He said his name was Hisashi. Why?”
Shouta nodded. “That’s classified.”
Everything was clicking into place. Hisashi Akatani, Midoriya’s father, spoke English as a first language. He hated Quirkless people, and he had left the night that Dragon announced his arrival to Japan.
“Hizashi,” He snapped, staring at his computer. “Can you call Tsukauchi and ask him to look up Hisashi Akatani from America?”
“Huh? Yeah...”
“I’m calling Nedzu.” Shouta mumbled, getting his phone out.
Twenty minutes later, Shouta, Hizashi, Nedzu and Tsukauchi were down at the police station. His search had yielded terrifying results. “But what I don’t understand is why you made me search for a dead person,”
“Ah, that’s just the thing. Aizawa-kun tell them what you know.”
Shouta crossed his arms and looked at the page pulled up on Hisashi Akatani.
NAME: HISASHI AKATANI
QUIRK: FIRE-BREATHING
STATUS: DECEASED
FAMILY:
INKO AKATANI - DECEASED
MIKUMO AKATANI - PREVIOUSLY MISSING. DECLARED DEAD.
“Hisashi Akatani isn’t dead.” He began, with a smile that was too forced. “And Mikumo Akatani isn’t simply a missing person’s case gone cold. A few days ago when UA started its virtual classes, a couple of my students said that Midoriya Izuku went home to his apartment with his father, instead of staying at the Dorms. I had asked him previously that day whether or not he was going home because both of his parents worked overseas. He said he’d stay at the Dorms.”
Shouta gestured to Hisashi’s file on-screen. “His father didn’t call him by the name he’d told us. He called him Mikumo . Akatani Mikumo is Midoriya Izuku’s real name.”
“Okay…?” Tsukauchi mumbled, utterly confused. “Then why do their files say they’re dead?”
“I’ll get to that.” Shouta promised. “Hisashi can speak fluent English, which me and my students have heard on several occasions during calls. Hisashi has a fire-breathing Quirk, and on the night that Dragon killed that Quirkless person, he left their house.”
Tsukauchi was getting paler by the second. “I have reason to believe that Hisashi Akatani is actually the Dragon, and faked his own death to avoid the police realizing it was him. And this part is just a guess but — I think something happened and Midoriya ran away.”
“Why would you think he ran away?” Nedzu asked, intrigued. Over the phone he hadn’t had time to explain everything.
“I was reviewing the tapes of the front gates on our way here!” Hizashi piped up suddenly. “I found the footage of Hisashi taking Midoriya back to his apartment. Take a look at this.”
“My boy. Work let me work from home for a while thanks to the pandemic. Don’t you want to go home? It’s been so long since I last saw you!”
“Deku. Who is that man? Is he talking to you?”
“I’m his father, Hisashi,” Hisashi explained with a sheepish smile. “Let’s go home.”
“Okay. Okay,”
“Good boy,”
“In this footage, you can obviously see smoke coming out of Hisashi’s mouth. And the entire exchange is weird—”
“ That’s an understatement.” Tsukauchi grumbled. “Do you have more for me?”
“Actually, yeah.” Shouta told them, fishing out the recording he’d made during class.
“What I’m saying is that Quirkless people deserve it, don’t you think?”
“How does your son feel about that, Akatani?” Another voice piped up, terrifyingly familiar. "All I’m saying is that Quirkless people are weak and easily manipulated. They’d be valuable assets if trained correctly.”
“I don’t care how he feels about it,” said Midoriya's father. “And I personally don’t think Quirkless people have an uses, even if trained,”
“But isn’t he—”
The recording stopped there.
“It’s not enough…” Tsukauchi mumbled painfully. “This isn’t enough evidence,”
“I assumed so, but would you mind sitting in on our classes?” Nedzu asked. “We’d wear masks in my office, or if you’d prefer we could stand six feet apart?”
“I don’t see why not.” Tsukauchi told them, looking relieved to be able to do something about this. “We’re all running around like chickens with our heads cut off to catch this guy. This is the only lead anyone’s got.”
Shouta almost put his phone away when Nedzu spoke again. “Aizawa-kun, do you mind playing the recording again?”
Furrowing his brows, he played it again.
Nedzu’s ears twitched. “Hm.” He mumbled. “Play it once more?”
Shouta did, not sure what Nedzu was trying to get at.
“Well shit.”
“What is it, Nedzu?” Hizashi asked.
“That’s Shigaraki Tomura.”
“You mean the Shigaraki that Midoriya stabbed in the face?” Tsukauchi whispered in horror. “We need to get that kid out of there.”
“My sentiment exactly,” Nedzu replied.
His arms were littered with burns while his face was covered in darkening bruises. Hisashi had come home after his “Japan Debut”, as he called it, and threw him around a bit.
Some would say “threw him around a bit” was an understatement of the century. There were bruises on every inch of his face. Luckily today the swelling in his eye had gone down enough for him to open and close that eye.
His bruises looked pretty bad actually, but he could just put makeup on. Hisashi hadn’t come home yet, so he snuck into the kitchen to grab something to eat. It had been a while since he had a real meal. He’d been surviving off of getting granola bars. Something Hisashi didn’t bother to count, or just never realized were gone.
He unwrapped one hastily, just in case Hisashi decided to come home, and ate it in two bites. He was already reaching for another. And he brought his empty water bottles and refilled them with filtered tap water.
For now he didn’t take any more food, only taking a little at a time ever since Hisashi came home. He remembered all too vividly how he got beaten for eating too much. This was the solution he’d come up with from his past experience.
Currently he was pretty well stocked in his room.
He checked his phone and looked at the time. He was late to class again. Damn.
Izuku hurried back to his room, locking the door behind him. Hisashi destroyed it before he left. Quickly he gathered up his ripped up posters and the remnants of his All Might comforter.
There were scorch marks on the wall that he couldn’t get rid of, so he sighed and went into the living room with his computer. He hurriedly went into the bathroom with some concealer, and covered up the bruises as best as he could.
If his camera was off again today, it would raise suspicion. They would ask questions he couldn’t answer. He would blow his cover, so he was willing to be even later than he already was.
By the time he joined the call, they were in English, and both Aizawa-sensei and Present Mic-sensei were taking up Aizawa’s camera.
And there were two new people in the call, both of them wearing masks. Detective Tsukauchi and Nedzu. Before he could ask them what they were doing, Nedzu spoke up.
“We were getting a little worried about you, Midoriya-kun!” Nedzu exclaimed, “Do you mind me asking why you were late?”
“I s-slept in… my a-alarm didn’t go off,” He lied, with a weak smile. And then he heard the jingle of keys opening the front door of his apartment. He fought the urge to look over, feigning complete calm. Hisashi walked behind the couch, passing within view of Izuku’s camera.
His Dragon mask was covered in blood. And it was in his hands, which had been in the view of his camera. Everything froze. He could feel his father’s eyes on him, and he refused to look at his own camera on screen anymore. He didn’t want to see Hisashi staring at him. He focused on Aizawa’s face instead. It was growing paler and paler by the second.
“Mikumo,”It was getting hotter in here. He was going to burn alive. “Have you seen the news?”
“No,” He managed to say, his eyes wide. He sucked in a shuddering breath.
“Have your teachers?” Hisashi asked, throwing his mask where it was obviously in view of Izuku’s camera. He angled his computer away from it so it wasn’t visible anymore.“Aren’t they concerned about you, and your condition ? Aren’t they afraid that the Dragon will come and kill you next?”
“His condition?” Aizawa parroted, his eyebrows furrowed together. “What do you mean?”
“You didn’t know?” Hisashi laughed, and Izuku could feel his eyes stinging. “You didn’t tell them, Mikumo?”
Izuku tugged on his hair, and clenched his jaw. Hisashi stopped short to let out a long sigh.
“That’s how you got into UA,” Hisashi mumbled, with a wicked smile. “You lied. You faked a Quirk!”
“Midoriya?” Nedzu questioned.
“Deny it,” Hisashi said, placing both hands on his shoulders. There was blood underneath his fingernails. “Deny it all you want. You have the double toe-joint, and we both know it. You’re Quirkless,”
Izuku knew what this was. Since he refused to help him and Shigaraki, Hisashi was making sure that the heroes didn’t save him when he finally decided to kill him. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. They knew. They knew he was useless and broken and a liar. They knew he was Quirkless.
And they'd all seen Hisashi's mask, the mask that would mark him as Dragon, the infamous Quirkless serial killer. They would never waste time saving him— “Why are you saying that like it’s a terrible thing?” Nedzu asked calmly, “Did you consider the possibility that maybe I changed his files at his request, so we could accept him?”
“But you didn’t,”
“You're correct. I didn’t but that’s not say that I wouldn’t have, if he’d asked.” Nedzu told him, with a razor sharp smile. “Either way, he still would’ve been accepted.”
“Quirkless people have no power,” Hisashi told them, his grip tightening on Izuku’s shoulders until he winced.
“They have no power?” Aizawa spat back, “Obviously you don’t know anything about your son.”
Hisashi opened his mouth to contradict them, but Aizawa kept going.
“He was the one to stab Shigaraki in the face, and he took down Stain. And you have the audacity to tell me he’s powerless?”
Hisashi threw his hands up in the air, fire licking at his lips suddenly. He stomped away, slamming the door to his bedroom on his way. Izuku let out a shuddering breath, trying to calm himself down before he had a panic attack.
“Ahem,” Nedzu mumbled after a long pause. “What I said is true, Midoriya-kun. Now, let’s get back to class!”
Izuku nodded, and started to absently tap on the table. Or at least, he hoped it seemed that way. Because his father could leave his room at any moment, and see him, and Morse Code was easy to hide.
He was giving them a message.
…. . .. … -.. .-. .- --. --- -.
H-E I-S D-R-A-G-O-N
They got everything. They recorded it all. They even got Midoriya’s message in Morse Code, and all that was left was to get Midoriya out of there safely, before apprehending his father.
In the end, it was up to Shouta to break into Midoriya’s apartment and get him out of there. Of course Present Mic was there, as well as Midnight, and a number of policemen.
He’d already informed his other students that he was taking care of the situation. He was standing on the street below the apartment building, staring at the window he’d seen in Midoriya’s calls. It was cracked open slightly, so he scaled the building silently.
He managed to open the window all the way. It creaked loudly so he paused for a moment, waiting for any sounds of someone waking up. He didn’t want Hisashi to blow the operation before it even began.
He crawled through the window and dropped silently in the room. Unfortunately he didn’t have Midoriya’s personal contact, so he had come without telling him. There was just no way to know what number was real or fake on Midoriya’s files, now that they knew they were fabricated.
He looked around the room, blanketed in thick darkness. The first thing he noticed was the scorch marks on the walls. How there were only sheets on Midoriya’s bed, and no comforter.
He wasn’t in bed. Shouta cursed. He wasn’t in the room. He wasn’t in the room.
“Midoriya?” He whispered, hoping to god that he was just hiding somewhere, spooked by Shouta creeping through his window. “Are you in here?”
There was no response, so he looked under the bed to find nothing. He looked in every part of the room, before finally going to the closet. He opened it slowly to avoid creaking the door.
He let out a breath of relief. Curled up in a blanket on the floor of the closet was Midoriya. “Midoriya,” He whispered again, not going to touch him. He knew how he reacted when Hisashi touched him. “Wake up, kiddo,”
Midoriya was up instantly, and before Shouta could even blink, there was a cold bite of steel against his skin. A knife. He put his hands up instantly, within Midoriya’s view. “It’s me, Midoriya,”
“S-sensei?” Midoriya stammered out, sounding like he was on the verge of tears. “Why are you h-here?”
“We’re getting you out, okay? We’re arresting Dragon, but I wouldn’t let them until we got you out. We need to go,” Shouta told him swiftly. “There’s not much time,”
Midoriya scrambled to his feet, and Shouta went toward the bedroom door. Midoriya seemed very hesitant, but Shouta unlocked the door and eased it open very slowly. Midoriya tugged on his sleeve, and Shouta turned to him silently.
“I know where to step,” Midoriya told him very, very quietly. Shouta nodded and let him lead the way.
He followed Midoriya exactly, until they reached the front door. The kid quickly set upon unlocking the door, flinching everytime the lock undid itself too loudly for his liking.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Shouta let out a colorful stream of curse words he didn’t want Midoriya to hear. But Midoriya hadn’t turned around to face his father. His hand was frozen on the doorknob.
Shouta could hear his erratic breathing.
He faced Midoriya’s father for him, filling the darkness with the red sheen of his Quirk. And then Hisashi just laughed. “You think I can’t kill you without my Quirk? You’ll be sorely mistaken,”
He took two steps forward, but a flash of metal flew through the air. The knife grazed Hisashi’s ear. “Y-y-you act like i-it’s an a-accomplishment,” Midoriya snapped at him, frost in his words. He seemed to summon all of his courage. He took a deep breath, and Shouta felt goosebumps blossom along his skin just from the aura the kid was giving off. “But I don’t need a Quirk to kill anyone. Next time I won’t miss.”
Hisashi’s face was twisting into something confused, but Midoriya was swinging open the door. Instantly Midnight's mist was pouring into the apartment, and Shouta held his breath. Hisashi, however, fell over like a ton of bricks onto the floor. Shouta turned to check on Midoriya.
Present Mic — his husband — had wrapped his arms around the kid, who was sobbing into his shoulder.
“You were very brave, kiddo,” Present Mic told him gently as the police restrained Hisashi Akatani. “You did such a good job,”
Midoriya clung to him desperately, and Shouta went over to help comfort him. “You’re safe now,” He promised. “He can’t hurt you anymore,”
“Y-you promise?” Midoriya asked, looking over his shoulder at him. It was under the lamplight that Shouta could finally see Midoriya’s face clearly.
He winced in sympathy. “Of course, now let’s get you fixed up, okay?”