Chapter Text
They both have his face. Round, with massive eyes that take up most of the space, even if neither have his bright green eyes. Of course they wouldn’t, his eyes came from his mom. Instead, the little girl’s eyes were a crystal-bright blue, while the boy’s were cherry red, almost reminiscent to Kacchan’s. They shared his freckles too, even if the girl’s crossed over the bridge of her nose as well, while the boy’s remained on the cheeks like his own.
The boy stood in front, curly golden hair falling into his eyes as he tried to push it back in frustration. Same golden color as the girl’s, who hid behind her mother’s skirt, and same golden as their mother, the other woman.
Izuku knew there had to be someone else. Hisashi said as much when he called after the sport’s festival, talking about having Izuku come down to meet up with them at a restaurant, talking about his sib– No.
He talked about having Izuku meet his two children.
Someone else had to be there, there had to be a mother and here she was. A skinny, delicate woman with long blond hair, bright red eyes with a spark within the pupils – even now, he found himself contemplating her Quirk, if it was something like Hisashi’s or if it was something to do with her eyesight considering the sparkle in her pupils, and it made him feel sicker – who he couldn’t help but compare her to his mother. She was taller, she was not prettier but she looked more… Model-esque.
The woman, his father’s wife, shifted awkwardly. “Hisashi should have been here to talk to you,” She mumbled, her hand reaching down to stroke the little girl’s hair. “I know he wanted to introduce you to Yayoe and Junpei directly, even if the dinner didn’t work out–”
“I turned him down,” Izuku interrupted, voice brusque and cold. The guilt burned, watching how she winced, biting down on her lip – she had lipstick on, adding to the cashmere cardigan covering up the dirt-stained white dress she wore. It looked like something Kacchan’s dad designed, thousands of yen for a single piece of clothing.
The kids – Junpei and Yayoe – were also dressed in fine, if now damaged and filthy, clothing. The Best Jeanist denim jacket on Junpei stuck out, almost bridging a gap for Izuku. He must have liked Heroes, considering how he stood in front, looking over Izuku with wide, bright eyes. People who looked at Heroes like that nowadays, especially Izuku’s current uniform, were in short supply.
Yayoe’s reaction was more common, staring back in abject horror, her little knuckles hard and white against the stained linen of her mother’s skirt. He should try to calm her, get down on one knee and speak softly to her like she was Katsuma or Eri-chan. It wasn’t like she’d try to hurt him – hell, it wouldn’t be the first time a child hit him if she actually tried, considering the first time he met Kota. It would be reasonable, and more importantly it would be kind to be gentle to her and her brother.
After all, these were just his father’s replacement children. It wasn’t a big deal that just being here made him want to claw his own skin off, head back to the safe house alone and make his guts stop twisting and burning uselessly.
“... I’m sor-,” The woman said, her words stumbling inelegantly over each other, before biting her cherry-stained bottom lip. “I shouldn’t be asking you how to do your job, but you’re scaring your sis-” He couldn’t suppress the crackle of electricity down his shoulder, as hard as he tried to shove One For All down. At least she could see that much, stepping back and pulling Junpei closer. “-- You’re scaring Yayoe, Izuku-kun. Could you at least take off the mask?”
“... I’m acting as the hero Deku, currently,” Izuku said, soothing his tone back to neutral again. “It’s better for everyone if I keep that up. Please.” Don’t make me take this off. Don’t make me be Midoriya Izuku, when I want to be anything else besides a Midoriya right now. When I’m reminded of how many other Midoriyas surround me right now, staring at me, anger or fear growing in pale freckled faces.
The woman sighed, before turning around slightly. “Yayoe, sweetheart,” She said to her daughter, stroking her hair, “Can you go help Junpei with the backpacks? It’s not fair to ask him and… Deku-kun,” the twitch of Izuku’s eye remained hidden behind his mask, “To take care of all of the bagging.”
“Yes, mama,” Yayoe said, speaking for the first time in the entire meeting. She kept her eyes down, clinging to Junpei’s jacket as the two walked off, as Izuku caught a mumble of, “He’s so scary… Is he really our brother, Jun-niichan?”
“Dunno,” Junpei muttered back, wrapping his arm protectively around the girl, “He’s a hero, at least… That’s got to be enough, right?”
The rest of their talk was muffled, as soon as they went up the staircase. A proper staircase, in a proper house, not a mansion like Yaoyorozu or Todoroki, but big and elaborate like Kacchan’s family. The living room might have been sparse – only things remaining being a couch, a coffee table covered in children's books and newspapers, and a TV stand with the connection wires still dangling off the wall – but it dwarfed the main room of his mom’s own apartment.
Did she know how well off Hisashi was before he tried prying? Sure, Izuku knew he was receiving child support payments, but considering how much mom had to work and how they scrimped and saved, it was one more thing to stick in his craw. They lived frugally, and even if they were comfortable, it wasn’t the kind of life Hisashi felt his actual family deserved. No, they deserved a large, new house with a staircase and a backyard garden.
Izuku turned his focus back to the woman, “... Where is he?”
Her glance went aside, staring at a sun-worn rectangle against the wall, likely where a family portrait had once hung. “Some of the men and stronger Quirk-users have been going out to try and… Gather for supplies.” Normally, Izuku couldn’t fault anyone for rummaging around empty shops or abandoned houses for food, weapons or materials. He couldn’t stop the thought of ‘So he’s looting’, much to his shame, it wasn’t anyone else’s fault that they were desperate and hungry. Plus Hisashi had much bigger things to feel shame over. The woman continued, “He went out today, thought it’d be easier for you. For everyone.”
Izuku sighed, “Figures he’d take off.” He should be here to take care of his kids. He did have a funny habit of not doing that though.
… This couldn’t be his problem. Not right now. Not when he was still on the field, barely days after the failed attack at All For One’s mansion and Lady Nagant’s near-death. He was barely functioning on four hours of sleep and a single bento after a villain attack forced him away from breakfast and All Might. There had to be someone else, anyone else. Anyone who could take these kids safely, without the sensation of acid and bile choking up the back of his throat, and stinging bitterness burning the edges of his eyes as unspent tears.
Izuku glanced away, focusing on the yellow-cream walls, the only thing still up being a sun-bleached Best Jeanist poster and patches of wear hinting at lost photos. “... I know,” Izuku said, “Suneater and Nejire-chan are on the field. It might take some time, maybe a day, but they can help get your kids to UA–”
The woman collapsed to her knees, immediately flinging herself down to the floor. Her hands slammed the ground, as the slight crackle of fireworks emitted from her pale hair, fiber-optic-esque lights streaming through the strands before popping off in tiny explosions. The noise of her falling to her knees in a dogeza and her Quirk almost muffled the sound of her cries, as her head touched the floor.
“Please,” His father’s second wife, Midoriya Hanabi, sobbed, “Don’t leave them, please. It was bad as is, with gang activity going off the wall– we have given everything, just to make the Meta Liberation Front scum leave us alone, and if they come back they might–”
Izuku should go down, comfort her. Tell her it’s okay, and that she didn’t need to cry anymore, that he was sorry for being so mean and scaring her! He was supposed to be a hero, damnit! He just had to move his limbs, go down to his knees and tell her it was okay, and he was here and he understood! And maybe he didn’t need to mean it fully, but he could at least stop hurting her!
His fingers twitched, knee flexing nervously. Almost a hop on his foot, more than any movement towards her.
But didn’t his own mother suffer too? Those days after his diagnosis, when Izuku could barely function, mute and pale and half-dead, and meanwhile Inko watched her world fall apart at the seams. Oh, he didn’t understand it at the time, not how a moving company came by and took so many things. The office equipment including the computer he’d watch All Might clips on. Hisashi– Dad’s faux-leather recliner with a cupholder. Half of the bedroom furniture, one of the couches. Or how his father’s bag was packed up and standing in the doorway, a file of papers being the last thing he ever gave his mother.
He couldn’t even look at Izuku after his diagnosis. Hell, he couldn’t even look at Izuku now, considering he was off looting and leaving Hanabi to deal with this.
“I… Can’t forgive you, you know,” He muttered. She at least knew he existed and that he was Hisashi’s first son. Seemed keen to have him accept the other two children as siblings too, giving Hisashi’s perfect, Quirky children a big brother in UA as one more accolade. He shook his head, “I know I definitely can’t forgive him, but you’re just as bad.”
After all, she knew about Izuku and still chose to remain.
Hanabi’s shoulders shuddered, before she looked up with red-rimmed eyes and snotty tears smearing the mascara and lipstick on her face. “You shouldn’t blame Yayoe and Junpei though, they’re just children. It’s dangerous out here, a-and… God knows what the Villains will want next time they come through here, not if they want t-to-” Her face went back to the floor, trying to suppress the sobbing. “Please, I know you don’t want to be their big brother…”
That was so much lighter than the truth. He couldn’t be, not with the shame and guilt and anger festering within him, an infection that spread from his brain throughout his chest and guts until all he could do was puke out rage, screaming ‘Why them? Why them and not us? Did you have to give up that quickly?’
Mom might have given up on Izuku’s dreams easily, but at least she didn’t give up on him.
Izuku went down to his knees, hand flexing over Hanabi’s shoulder, almost reaching down enough to give her some form of comfort. His fingers just couldn’t bridge the gap, trembling hand balling up into a fist before he pulled back. “... I’m not doing this as their big brother,” Izuku said, “I’m not their big brother. You have got to stop telling them that, when they come back to you.”
Hanabi’s shoulders stopped, the cries easing down. She looked up again, wiping the smeared makeup away from her eyes with the sleeve of her fine cardigan. “... You’ll do it?” She whispered, fear twinging as if saying it outloud would make him rethink it and flee, leaving the mess for his senpai or another hero to deal with.
“I’ll do it because I’m a Hero,” Izuku said. “And it’s the right thing to do, saving children from a terrorist attack and getting them to safety. Nothing more, nothing less.”
His scarf kept them both close to him, even if he could feel the tension in Junpei’s arms and hear how Yayoe sniffled as soon as they left the Midoriya’s big, fancy house. If he held the back of her head gently as they flew away, keeping to dark alleys and shadowy paths to avoid drawing any villains into a fight while he had civilians in his arms, it was purely logical. Fighting with his father’s children would just be too risky.
At least the safehouse was easy enough to reach, All Might already willing to pull the slack as soon as Izuku returned. The moment they reached the genkan entrance of the decrepit apartment, Izuku knelt down, undoing the scarf in a slow tug.
“Don’t drop me-” Yayoe squealed, even while Izuku steadied her to the floor. She wobbled, before dashing behind Junpei once again, still staring at Izuku with those wide, terrified eyes.
All he could do was sigh. “I’m not going to hurt you,” Izuku hissed, the frustration leaking into his words, “I already got you to a safehouse and you’re going to be brought to UA safely.”
“Indeed,” All Might added, walking over before coming to a knee in front of the children. It took everything for Izuku not to dart in between, trying to keep his mentor’s attention away from the younger kids, but even he had to admit how childishly petty the thought was. Instead, he glanced away, only catching All Might waving the two over with one of his hands, “I’m from UA as well, you’re going to be safe now. We’re gonna get you two something to eat and keep you safe, alright?”
The girl stared up at All Might, eyes wide with something besides terror for a moment, before she glanced back at Izuku and ducked back. Junpei sighed in disgust, turning to Izuku, “Take your stupid mask off. It’s scaring her!”
Izuku remained quiet, before moving his hands to shift it back. He… Wasn’t wrong, his entire costume was ragged, and had long seen better days. It also stunk to high heaven, even if he didn’t want to risk removing it long enough to wash it and chance someone catching him unprepared and unprotected. Still, the mask could come off for now, showing his tangled, matted hair and the deep circles under his green eyes.
It did little to comfort Yayoe at first, the girl staring back at him before moving away from her brother to get a better look. “... You have freckles like Jun-niichan,” she mumbled, “And daddy.”
“Yeah,” Junpei said, staring up at Izuku in shock, at least with his mother’s eyes instead of the crystal blue that Yayoe had, the same crystal blue of Hisashi. He turned to his sister, “It’s like what mom and dad said though, he’s our older br-”
Older brother. Hisashi had been calling him their older brother, at least since the Sports Festival. Did they ever know about him before then? Did they know they had a pathetic, Quirkless older brother who lived in the poor part of town, going to a shitty public school with a massive bullying problem? Did they know anything about him, beyond how they had the same curly, messy hair and freckles and how they all had chubby cheeks and leaned more into being scrawny, even if Junpei was taller than he was at that age? Did they want their older brother when he was nobody, before he was actually a contender on the Sports Festival and a public hero?
It wasn’t fair to ask these questions of children, but it wasn’t fair he had to have these questions either. This wasn’t something he needed right now, not when he had to worry about All For One or the fate of Japan and all of his friends and family, his actual family that didn’t just care when it was convenient and cool, all depending on him.
“ Shut up ,” Izuku snapped, immediately getting back up to his feet. His tone was sharp and acrid, as the lightning of One For All crackled down his arms for an instant, the revulsion and anger hitting all at once at hearing it. The room went deathly still, the only noise coming from the hum of an old fridge in the kitchen a meter away, as he tried to still his trembling arms and swallow back the bile.
The children stared up at Izuku, before Yayoe started sniffling up, tears running down her face. Junpei scowled, pulling his sister close. “Y-you shut up, you wannabe hero!” he snapped back, even if there was no venom to his words, only an utter tone of betrayal, pupils tiny from the shock of getting snapped at and Izuku’s bitterness hitting all at once.
It… Was bitterness, wasn’t it? It wasn’t their fault, and he didn’t want to, but he loathed them. They were just little kids who needed help, but he couldn’t help the rage and bile choking him, the loathing spilling out of every pore.
“-Y-” All Might sputtered – of course, even when he was at his angriest, he never blamed innocent children, he never hated them for existing and reminding him of why he wasn’t good enough, all those sickening thoughts swarming in Izuku’s brain even as he slammed his hand over his mouth to keep from mumbling every goddamned thing that slithered down his brain and up his gag reflex. He could feel stomach acid licking the back of his throat, choking it down, while All Might’s expression turned from shock to anger, “Young Midoriya, what is wrong with you?”
“D-” His words threatened to smother him, as he released his hands, forced to speak, “Do you know who they are? Did you ever wonder why it’s just me and Mom, All Might?” He squeezed his eyes shut, wrathful tears streaming down with each word. “These are my father’s children! The children he wanted! Not me!”
Not him. Never him, a small, Quirkless little child who couldn’t suppress his tears. He trembled, trying to calm the fury and litany of sobbing rage, before a cry finally snapped him free.
The wails of terrified children.
Izuku opened his eyes, turning to the sound of the crying. Junpei wrapped around his sister, trying to keep his own tears down even as he glared up at Izuku in wrath while Yayoe sobbed deeply, streams of tears running down her face and smoke eking out of her mouth, little licks of fire from her Quirk slipping out of her lips with every choking sob.
“I want to go home!” Yayoe screamed, “I want mommy and daddy! Not Deku! Please, let’s go home!”
Izuku shivered, cold shock running down his spine finally overwhelming the bile and spittle. He reached out, a hand nervously in the air, not sure if he was reaching for the kids or All Might. Regardless, another stream of fire licked out in the air, crackling from a second as Junpei let out his Quirk with a shout of “Stay away! Don’t you dare hurt my sister!”
“Kids, that’s enough!” All Might got in the middle, standing between Izuku and the children. He glanced back to Izuku first, confused betrayal lining his eyes as he said, “We’ll talk more about this later, Young Midoriya,” before going right to the kids, his focus turning to them and quelling up that rage once again, “I’m sorry, it’s been a very bad time. Deku is normally very kind, and we’ll make this right–”
The rest of his excuses were muffled in Izuku’s ears, beyond a droning ring. He wanted to pull him away, kick the kids back out of the apartment. He wanted to go down in dogeza as well, apologize for scaring them and acting so… Villainous, there wasn’t anything heroic about screaming at two children. Even if they replaced you, if they were the better version of you and only know you know because it’s convenient for the parents who abandoned you. No matter what he tried to do, how he tried to move, Izuku could do nothing but suppress that sickening, explosive rage, the tears still running down his face.
This wasn’t safe for anyone.
“I… I’m sorry,” he muttered, turning back around. He never took off his shoes at the genkan, instead running through the abandoned apartment, tracking filth along the floor with each running step. It wasn’t the worst thing he did today, after all. “I’m sorry. I can’t be here, I need to go,” Izuku rambles grew more incoherent, not sure if anyone else was chasing after him, as he went for the balcony door.
He couldn’t be here.
Izuku just missed All Might chasing after him, shouting his name as he flew out the balcony door.