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There’s signs of abuse children simply can’t hide no matter how hard they try.
And Midoriya Izuku was trying very hard, Aizawa could tell.
It would have taken him a while to notice the signs at all, if he hadn’t already planned to look out for UA’s first quirkless heroic student.
Quirk discrimination had been bad enough for him, but for someone without a quirk at all ?
Fifteen years later ?
When the number of quirkless people decreases steadily year after year ?
Yeah, he would have been surprised if the kid had shown up completely fine.
But he was very good at keeping his tells lowkey, and that was from an underground hero who could usually see them a mile away even when he wasn’t actively looking.
But a person constantly in survival mode cannot help the way they stand in order to have as many people within eyesight as possible.
They cannot hide the way they flinch and tense when a sound comes from a blind spot they couldn’t cover.
They cannot hide the way their eyes constantly look for threats, to be prepared the moment it comes.
But Midoriya Izuku came to school clean, uninjured and smiling.
He’d made friends nearly instantly, they talked and laughed and ate normally.
None of them ever came forward with a concern about him.
All of the signs pointed towards entirely expected reactions for a child who had grown up in a discriminatory environment but had just left it.
Like graduating from a middle school who didn’t uphold their anti-discrimination decree as strongly as they claimed to.
Into a high-school who upheld theirs as strictly as would be expected from a school run by a quirked-animal who had to fight to even be recognized as a cognizant individual.
However there was one main reason Aizawa Shouta didn’t entirely disregard the possibility of an abusive home environment.
Midoriya Izuku stayed as late as the school was open everyday.
Oh no, it wasn’t like he was just napping or wandering around, he was working on his homework, or making use of one of the gymnasiums, or hid away in the library for a moment of peaceful reading.
Regardless, the kid arrived everyday at 8am and NEVER left any sooner than 6 pm, when even most of the teachers had already left by that point.
Children with good family-life were supposed to be excited about the end of the day, not trying to hold onto every single minute they could hide away at school.
But the kid never had any bruises, never let anything slip even when Aizawa probed and always smiled like he had lived a life of only sunshine and rainbows.
Which, yeah, right.
He’d seen more red shoes on rooftops than on the feet of a living person.
The perks of being an underground hero.
But with nothing concrete to base his assumptions off, Shouta could do nothing but wait, and hope for the best, knowing full well that the best was hardly ever the reality.
Midoriya’s parents didn’t pick him up after the USJ, or so he’d been told by Nedzu, but well, neither did Uraraka’s and they had a good reason.
Nor did his mother when Izuku broke multiple fingers on live television for a school event, that ended up requiring surgery. No one ever called to enquire on their child’s health, nor did any of their own calls go through.
Midoriya went home alone once again.
When the boy ended up involved in the take-down of the hero-killer Stain, of course Aizawa was furious, but at least the kid couldn’t leave the hospital without a guardian’s signature, so he was confident he would finally meet Midoriya Inko and get a feel for her himself.
The kid was in his room when he left, and he was gone the next morning despite Aizawa making it early enough that visits hadn’t even started when he arrived.
When he enquired with a nurse, she seemed quite puzzled over the boy’s absence as well, but upon looking up the hospital’s record, they did find the release paper signed by one Midoriya Inko earlier last night.
Aizawa didn’t believe it for one second, and his theory went from “Midoriya Inko is abusing her son” to “Midoriya Inko doesn’t exist” which begged the question, where did the kid live ?
Turns out Midoriya Inko did exist, and he found her exactly where Midoriya’s file said they lived.
He met and had tea with her, but Izuku was not there.
He still hadn’t seen son and mother together in the same room, and his bad feeling wasn’t really getting any better, but at this point there was nothing further he could do.
At this point he was wondering if Izuku had somehow managed to cosplay into his mother and somehow tricked him into believing she existed.
No Shouta, focus.
The answer he was looking for came unexpectedly, when he wasn’t even searching for it.
He was slurping one of his jelly pouch on the roof of the building he was taking a break from patrol on, while eavesdropping on the group of homeless men talking together below.
No one knew as much about the streets, crime and villains, as well as the homeless population did.
No one paid attention to them as long as they kept quiet and out of sight.
“...Hermie hasn’t seen Deku in a while, he gone into hiding again ?” the gruff voice was taking a swing of the bottle of beer he was holding in his hand.
“Probably, wiser anyway considering the trouble he manages to get into with every single villain in the area” a man with a beanie as red as his nose and a beard reaching his chest answered, “He ain’t gonna make it long on the streets that’s for sure, kid’s gonna get killed soon enough with the number of people after his ass” he snorted but it was evident it was more out of powerlessness than amusement.
Deku was a good kid who always talked and helped other homeless people if he could, which wasn’t often considering he was in the exact same situation, but it was already better than literally anyone else.
He’d actually heard of the name before, but never really paid much attention to it, now he wanted to bash his head against a wall cause that’s what Bakugou had been calling Midoriya since the very first day of class, and he didn’t connect the two.
The pouch was quickly put away as he silently landed at the mouth of the dead-end the group had taken residence at.
He didn’t hide his presence when he approached them and took a seat in the somewhat circular shape they had formed around a small fire.
The conversation immediately died down, but no one was attacking or even overly cautious, as everyone knew Eraserhead in the area as a trustworthy hero.
It wasn’t hard to guess he needed help with something and he would be provided with it, in exchange for what would probably be money for cigarettes or more beer, not that he cared what they did with it.
“Any idea where Deku is right now ?”
No one took the lead in answering, clearly deferring to the red-hatted-beardman who was suspiciously narrowing his eyes at him.
Was Eraserhead safe ? Yes
But Deku also was, and he wouldn’t sell one out to the other
There were few enough good people on the streets as it was.
“Depends, waddaya want wit’ him ?”
Shouta sighed, slightly frustrated that he would have to fight again to garner even half a piece of information on his problem child (who was apparently aiming for the spot of #1 problem child he’d ever have in his career). However he was also grateful for the men to be trying to protect his student.
“He’s a child, he needs help, and I want to give it to him”
His interlocutor snorted.
“Help ? How ? By putting him into foster care ? Aye, damn good help that’d be for someone like ‘im”
For some reason Shouta couldn’t imagine Midoriya in foster care.
Considering he was clearly not living with his mother, and she was perfectly aware of it, he wouldn’t go back into her custody.
But a quirkless boy in an orphanage ?
He’d be a target and he’d either have to take it and come to school and to training injured, or he could fight back, and he risked a criminal record which would keep him from ever becoming the first quirkless pro-hero.
As if becoming it wasn’t going to be hard enough in the first place.
But beyond that…Shouta just didn’t want the kid anywhere he wouldn’t be loved and cared for patiently, like he would need to be once he got out of whatever shitshow his life until now had been.
“I’ll take him in,” and well, that was a big claim right there, something he’d never even thought about before that moment and that he would definitely need to run by his husband before actually if at all going through with it. He knew his face had twitched after he said that, and everyone around him had seen it too, so he’d have to explain himself fast before they took him for a liar, “...although I would have to speak to my husband about it…” the words leaving his awkwardly twisting mouth tasted foul, he was not the type to make empty promises, and to speak without thinking, but he just had.
It appeared that before Shouta had even realized it himself, he’d come to care enough for his problem child that he wanted to take him in himself instead of letting someone else do it.
Wanted to make him his child and not just his problem child.
But once again, he needed to talk to his husband before anything else.
He still had no location though, and he might have just lost himself his only lead.
He looked straight at red-beanie with all of the seriousness he was feeling, before he was acknowledged with a nod, and the man was answering him as he lit up a cigarette.
“If the sky’s clear and it’s not too cold you’ll find him sleeping on an isolated rooftop away from civilization, like at an abandoned district or at the harbor. He shrugs “If it’s not, you should probably wait for a time when it is, ‘cause he could be in any of the abandoned buildings in the area that aren’t being squatted by junkies.”
And although that narrowed down a few, that still left way too many to search.
He also found out the kid only ended up on the streets a few months ago, approximately around the time he started UA.
Shouta got up with cracking knees -damn his aging body- and handed over a ten thousand yen to the group with a small thanks.
It was for both the information and the looking out for his kid.
Shouta searched around a few buildings but his patrol ended too quickly.
At least now he had information, and a plan.
If worse comes to worse, he would follow the kid to his hideout, but he was observant and twitchy enough that the chances he’d be noticed were too high to risk, unless it’s a last resort.
First thing first, he would have to talk to his husband about fostering (and maybe even adopting, wait stop, that’s too soon).
Even though he didn’t doubt one second that he’d agree, he knew his husband really liked the kid as well.
Then, when he wasn’t handling an assault, a case or an emergency of some kind, he would search through buildings and rooftops in hope of coming across his child his his his his his.
His patrol ended with a rescue plan for a child he had no information about at the beginning of it.
-
Weeks went by before he found Midoriya Izuku the same way he had stumbled upon information about him : unexpectedly.
Honestly the kid was smart enough that Shouta should have considered the possibility of him having figured out his patrol schedule, and specifically avoided him.
It was a once in a lifetime kind of luck, because he only rarely switched shifts with other undergrounders, but he owed Brood one, even if that meant giving up on one of his only weekly nights off.
And for some reason, it was the night he’d found Midoriya.
Sure the sky was clear, and the cigarette smoke rising up from the middle of the rooftop clearly indicated a human presence, but he hadn’t expected it to be Midoriya freaking Izuku.
The boy always smiled, never swore and was the picture-perfect student until some villain inevitably got ahold of him.
So yes, when he landed on the rooftop, it was a surprise for him to find the kid he’d been looking for, laying down, looking up at the sky with a cigarette between his lips.
He was sure the kid had noticed his presence long before Aizawa had reached his rooftop, he had better situational awareness than some heroes, but he didn’t turn his head until both of his feet had landed on the cement.
His eyes traveled up his boots, to his jumpsuit he saw the beginning of realization dawn on his face there, and when he reached his scarf he didn’t even bother looking at his face, he just groaned, hiding his eyes behind his arm.
“Well, fuck me I guess”
And that was that for the kid who never swore.
Shouta wondered how much of his true self Midoriya showed at school.
Definitely not enough, if the exhaustion he’d managed to get a peek of before his eyes were covered was to be believed.
Shouta couldn’t help the snort he let out and let himself fall to the ground next to his student.
The sky might have been clear of clouds, but they were still in the middle of the city, and although you could see some stars, it was still a stretch to call it a clear night.
“So you were avoiding my patrol routes uh ? How did you even figure them out ?”
He could see Midoriya shrugging next to him before he removed his arms from where it was covering his gaze, and take a long drag of his cigarette.
Shouta couldn’t bring himself to scold him, it wasn’t really his place yet , and also because he was pretty sure the kid had lived a shitty enough life that he should be allowed whatever brought him even the slightest comfort. As long as it was reasonable, and until he could stop entirely once he was in a better environment. Which would be soon.
“There were days you came to school more tired than others, so you’d clearly patrolled the night before. Without school on the weekends it was obvious that you’d patrol more, and then it was just a matter of listening to words on the street about where you could usually be found. Having such a good reputation on the street actually disserved you. I avoided your areas and made myself scarce.” he blew out an impressive cloud of smoke “You weren’t supposed to be here tonight were you ?”
Eraser let the corner of his mouth the kid couldn’t see curl up slightly in a smirk. Sue him, he’d been looking for him for forever and he finally found him. Was it more luck than skill ? Maybe, but he’d take the win regardless. And it’s not like he didn’t put any effort in it either.
As an underground hero he was in good shape, but he was used to running around rooftops rather than spending his nights walking up and down buildings for hours until his thighs burned.
“Nope,” Shouta popped the word, he was happy he found the kid so he let himself relax and show a more approachable version of himself “Brood had an emergency and I owed them one. Lucky break for me I guess”
Izuku furrowed his brow in confusion “Lucky break ?” he questioned.
“You aren’t as slick as you think you are, kid. Although you’re still really good, for an untrained teenager. I knew something was wrong, found out you were homeless, been looking for you ever since.”
That only made him furrow his brow further. “You literally see me in class everyday. You could have taken me in anytime.”
Shouta hummed in acknowledgement “Yeah, but tell me you wouldn’t have run for it. And I’m confident in catching you, but I can’t keep an eye on you 24/7, you would have left the moment you had a chance wouldn’t you have ?”
“But you think I won’t now ?”
“Well, we’re talking and you haven’t run for it yet so, I’ll take it as a good sign. My goal wasn’t finding you and throwing you into the foster system only for you to disappear and reappear who-knows-where as a vigilante.”
The amused expression on the kid’s face showed that it was exactly what he’d planned on doing if it ever came down to it.
Shouta let the silence wrap them in a comfortable bubble while Izuku finished his cigarette, threw it away, and thoughtfully went back to looking at the not-really-starry sky.
It was minutes, and he was begging that he wouldn’t be called away by a dispatcher for an incident cause he had a feeling that moment was decisive.
“...what’s the difference between sending me into foster care then and now ?”
“Easy, I’m not send you there at all”
Shouta could feel the confusion and hope radiating from the kid despite his best attempt at hiding the second emotion.
“So you’re letting me stay here ?”
And that was what made the kid hopeful ? That his teacher would leave him out on the street ?
“Hell no,” he scowled at the mere idea “But me and my husband want to take you in and we’ve had your room ready for weeks now. He’s been worried about you so he’s going to smother you the second you step through the doorway.”
He said it like it was a fact, that Izuku would go home with him.
It sounded nice.
“Why would your husband even be excited about a random kid suddenly crashing into your home ?”
“Well, first of all he’s been wanting kids since forever, but resigned himself to us being too busy to ever adopt.
Two : you’re one of his favorite students -don’t tell anyone we have those-, you really help him out when no one wants to answer a question and you raise your hand to save him from the awkwardness. He always acts cheerful like others’ negativity and silence doesn’t affect him, but it really does.” you could clearly hear the fondness the gruff man held for his husband.
Izuku let out the name in a whispered breath.
“Yamada-sensei” and it was said in wonder, hope, but also fear. “...You suit each other.”
Shouta had to do a double take at that and turn towards the kid in incredulity, who couldn’t help but also turn towards him with a cheeky, but honest grin.
“No one ever says that” he admits lowly.
It didn’t bother him.
Not really.
Because he knew why they thought that. They were complete opposites. Hizashi was sunshine and flowers, bright eyes and brighter laugh, a beacon of joy to anyone in the dark.
He was kind and funny and so easily lovable.
Everything Shouta was not.
Moody. Quiet. Grumpy. Depressed. Tired.
There was only so much Hizashi’s whispered words of love, and praise and worship could do to make him feel adequate. Worthy of the best man he knew and would ever know.
Midoriya snorts, a mocking thing, not towards Shouta, but towards people.
He sits up and gets a new cigarette out, lighting it and taking a single drag before explaining himself.
Shouta got the feeling he needed a substitute for courage when having to talk about emotions.
“Relationships need balance. You’re opposites, but you balance the other out when one of you is getting too deep into something, whatever it is. One brings the other down to earth, the other brings the one up from the deep end.”
The kid looks melancholic, and it makes Shouta wonder how much of this is about Hizashi and him, and how much of it is between Midoriya and whoever he’s thinking so nostalgically about. Somehow, Bakugou comes to mind.
He hums but doesn’t answer.
The silence resumes while Izuku smokes his cigarette quietly.
When he’s done he stomps it out on the ground and lets it fall from his hand where the wind will fly it away.
He turns to examine his teacher, his expression sad, resigned, but also longing, hopeful.
Like Shouta was promising him something he desperately wanted but didn’t believe he could ever have.
But he would.
Shouta and Hizashi ?
They’d give the kid a home.
A roof above his head, a bed with so many comforters they’ll all end up on the floor by morning.
A warm meal, and questions about his day.
Love, and care, and pride.
Help whenever he needed it.
When he doesn’t know how to ask for it but wants it anyway.
He’ll be their kid.
And in a way, he already was.