Chapter Text
Ochako bit back a sigh as she looked at the empty chair across the table before quickly glancing at the clock. Her eyes closed for a moment to stop any reaction.
Not in front of the kids.
Not again.
Never again.
She should be used to it now.
The kids-
“Tatsuku,” she started, looking at the grumpy teenager sitting next to her. Ochako sucked in a tight breath as she watched her eldest son angrily stab the pork cutlet in his bowl and willed herself not to comment.
It’s his day.
He has a right to be angry.
She was pissed too.
She was going to ignore his poor table etiquette for now because there wasn’t any point in making him more upset over something so minor when there were bigger issues to deal with.
“Did you show your brother and sister your medal?” Ochako continued with an overly cheerful voice and a fake smile.
She hated that Tatsuku was aware of what was going on. It had happened enough times over the last fifteen years of his life and was becoming more frequent and more noticeable.
“Did you win?” Ichigo questioned sweetly as she kicked her legs. She dug her spoon into her bowl. Big green eyes darted to the shiny bronze medal around Tatsuku’s neck. “I thought winners got golden medals, not brown ones.” She didn’t understand.
Ichigo was old enough to be aware something was wrong, she could see that the people around her were upset. Fortunately, she was still at the age where her parents were infallible no matter how wrong they were.
“Gold medals, not golden,” Yagi corrected factually. “And the metal Tatsu has is bronze cause he came in third place.” Then there was her sweet, sensitive middle child who was starting to realize what was going.
“Which is amazing!” Ochako commented as she continued to eat her dinner. “I remember my first Sport’s Festival, and I made it to last round but I didn’t make it on the podium. And your otousan-”
Tatsuku snorted. His fork loudly scraped across the bottom of the ceramic bowl.
“-he didn’t make it to the podium either.”
He also didn’t make it to dinner to celebrate their eldest’s son competing today.
Or to see the competition.
Well, as far as she knew, he hadn’t watched the competition. He might have watched it. Izuku had been scheduled to present the third year students with their medals.
Her husband hadn’t really been home since last week. He’d returned home from a trip to Singapore. Izuku had pressed a kiss to her cheek and sat with them at the table long enough to ask the kids a few questions, nod appropriately at their stories, make a few comments, and eat dinner while he scrolled through work emails on his phone. “We’re very proud of you,” Ochako stated genuinely.
Tatsuku rolled his eyes, dropping a heavy elbow on the table as he hunched over his food. “Whatever,” he grumbled, pushing the katsudon around the bowl. He hadn’t even taken a bite of the meal he requested.
His father’s favorite meal.
That’s what he had wanted to celebrate with.
Ochako felt her heartbreaking. “Tatsu-”
“I said whatever!”
Ochako carefully set her chopsticks down. She took a deep breath, counting to five in her head as she fought to keep her cool. All the parenting books said that the best way to diffuse a situation was to remain calm. “I understand you’re upset that your otousan couldn’t make it to see you at the Sports Festival, but he really wanted to be there.” She was upset, but right now she didn’t need to feel her feelings. Her son did.
“Bullshit!”
Ichigo gasped, “That’s a bad word!”
“Midoriya Tatsuku,” Ochako warned, “you know better.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” It was clear that he wasn’t even close to sorry. “ Bullshit ,” Tatsuku corrected, saying the curse word in English.
Yagi ducked his head down, slouching in his chair uncomfortably.
“Kaachan, what’s bullshit mean?” Ichigo questioned innocently as she looked around the table. Her English was clumsy and heavily accented but the swear was clear.
Ochako rubbed her temples. She briefly remembered being upset that her youngest wouldn’t be able to learn English through emersion like her brothers who got to attend school in the United States.
Five years.
Seventeen schools.
Eleven states.
They’d stayed in England for six months after that before hopping around the world. Wherever Izuku was needed. They’d spent years without a home and lived in apartments, hotels, as guests of other heroes living out of suitcases and boxes until the next move.
The only reason they had relocated to Japan was for Takutsu to go to UA.
Finally a home.
With an incomplete family.
“It’s not a nice word that shouldn’t be repeated by children, sweetie,” Ochako gently explained to her four-year-old. “Tatsu is just a little upset. It’s nothing to worry about though.”
The fork clattered against the table. “Why do you always do that?!” Tatsuku yelled, slamming his hands against the table and spilling his glass of water.
“Tats-”
“Stop defending him!” He pushed himself up from the table. His chair slammed against the wall. “Dad’s not here because he doesn’t care!”
“That isn’t true,” Ochako answered before she had time to consider if it were true. “Your otousan loves you and-”
“Right, that’s why he makes time for everything else but me ,” Tatsuku snapped back bitterly, “and the rest of us!”
“That isn’t true.” It was. “Why don’t we talk about this later?”
“Why don’t you just divorce Dad already and get it over with!?” he yelled stomping out of the dining room. “He’s never here anyway so quit making excuses for him!” Angry footsteps thundered up the stairs, nearly shaking the light fixture. “How the fuck-”
“Tatsuku!” she shouted, turning behind her to see her son halfway up the staircase.
“-does everyone else capable of making time for?” he stopped, hands gripping the railing tightly. “Shouto and Iida watched and congratulated me!”
“They were working the event.” His father was too, but-
“How does Dad’s best friend have the time? He had to officiate the second years, but still found the time to watch.”
“Bakugo works at UA,” Ochako explained.
“No! He actually gave a damn!”
“Ta-”
“Just because you don’t wanna admit that Dad doesn’t give a shit about us, doesn’t make it not true!” he yelled before running up the steps. “I hate this shit! I’m tired of him ruining everything! The worst part is you fucking let him!”
Ochako focused on breathing. She could still feel the eyes of her younger children watching nervously. The sound of the door slamming crackled sharply making Ochako flinch. “Yagi, Ichigo,” she started calmly after a few seconds, “go take your dinner upstairs.”
“We’re not allowed to eat upstairs,” Ichigo reminded her softly.“Papa said so.”
Papa wasn’t there. “I’m saying you can.” She couldn’t remember a time he was truly present for dinner.
“Okay,” Yagi nodded. He carefully picked up his bowl, slowly sliding out of his chair. “Are you-” He paused watching as his little sister excitedly scampered away from the dining room table and to her room.
She was far too distracted with being allowed to eat in her room to care about what was happening.
“-is Dad gone?”
“No sweetheart,” Ochako quickly reassured as she walked in front of him. She placed a gentle head on his light brown hair and then moved the other to cup his cheek. Her thumb dusted over his freckles as a bittersweet smile split her face and her eyes stung. “No,” she repeated shaking her head. She smiled wider as she forced herself not to cry. “Dad is busy, but he loves you.”
This wasn’t love.
She couldn’t explain that to her nine-year-old. “Go eat your dinner.” She’d have to explain it eventually but not tonight. “I’ll bring you up a nice big slice of cake in a little bit.” Ochako pressed a kiss to the top of his head before patting his cheek again.
Yagi nodded, obediently making his way up the stairs.
“Damn it,” Ochako cursed softly, shaking her head as soon as he disappeared from sight. She pulled her cell phone from her pocket quickly pulling up her husband’s cell phone number. There was still that ridiculous pink sparkling heart she’d added at the end of his name when they’d first started dating.
That seemed like a million years ago.
There was a time when she found herself blindly infatuated by him. Ochako had worked so hard to be like him, to get him to notice her, to get him to see her as more than a friend, and here they were years later.
She sighed loudly, tucking an arm underneath her chest as she pressed the phone to her ear and counted the rings.
Ochako had stopped leaving voicemails since they’d arrived in Japan unless it was an emergency. Even then, she wasn’t sure she would get a timely response.
He was working overtime across town when Tatsuku was born. She’d been so relieved when he came running into the hospital room dirty and frazzled just as the doctor was telling her to start pushing.
When Yagi was born, he was an hour late. She’d been too stressed out sitting by the little incubator, watching her premature second born’s little chest rise and fall. Nothing had gone right that day. A normal prenatal visit turned into a c-section. She’d called his phone for hours pleading with staff to wait because she couldn’t do it alone. Tatsuku held her hand until they moved her to the operating room. Ochako didn’t question her husband being late. She just wanted to hold her son.
Izuku had been in Canada while they were in England when Ichigo was born.
Korea while they were living in Siberia when Yagi needed his tonsils out.
He’d been in Iceland while she was packing up the hotel in Eygpt when Tatsuku broke his arm jumping between beds. She’d never forget trying to navigate the ER, desperate for someone who spoke English or Japanese.
“Hello?”
“Where are you?” Ochako questioned. She stopped to stare at the family picture they’d taken when they’d first moved back to Japan almost a year ago.
A magazine had interviewed Izuku about his life as a husband, father, and the Number One Hero so they need photos to go along with the story.
Photos that fit the narrative. “You missed Tatsuku’s dinner.” They looked so perfect. The magazine had even couple of copies of the photos. She didn’t recognize the family staring back at her.
That family was happy.
“Oh shit-”
Ochako rolled her eyes at the remorse in his voice.
“I lost track of time-”
Again.
“I was meeting with some of the third year students, scouting some interns-”
There was always an excuse.
“Then I got caught up with the staff from UA and-”
“When are you coming home?” she questioned getting to the point. Ochako didn’t care about what was keeping him. Her children needed to see their father.
Home.
“Tatsuku is upset you weren’t there for him to get his medal.”
“Ochako, I had to be at the third year-”
“Have you even congratulated him?” she questioned, knowing that he hadn’t. “Told him how proud you are of hi-”
“He knows I’m proud.”
“Does he? Cause you haven’t taken the time to congratulate him.”
“I’m busy.”
Too busy for his family as usual. “When are you coming home?” She didn’t have the energy for this. There was no point in having this discussion on the phone.
“I don’t know-”
That meant don’t count on seeing him anytime soon. He’d probably finish his meeting with staff in an hour before going back to the agency and getting sucked into something that would take up his attention for hours.
“Okay,” Ochako answered evenly.
He’d probably get in around 3 AM. She’d feel him slink into bed and crawl behind her to spoon then press a tender kiss to the side of her neck and squeeze her closer.
Ochako would fight the urge to go sleep on the couch. “Well, I’ll see you when you get home.” She quickly ended the phone call, dropping her phone to the table. Her palm pressed against her mouth as she looked at the messy table and perfect family portrait hanging on the wall across from her. “Goddamn it,” she muttered picking up the phone.
She didn’t know what to do.
“Bakugo?” she started, the back of her hand was pressed against the top of her forehead. “What are you doing right now?”
To be Continued…