Chapter Text
Everything was great up until Izuku turned 4. He lived a happy life with his mom and dad. He smiled and laughed without a care in the world. Every Saturday he would go play with his best friend Katsuki (or, to him, Kacchan), at the park while their moms chatted and laughed along with each other. He drew pictures that his mom would hang on the refrigerator and played heroes until he was so sleepy he couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore. He had always felt loved. He had always felt safe with his family. Why wouldn’t he, right?
—
“Bye, Kacchan!” Izuku waved excitedly before climbing into his car seat. He kicked his feet quickly as the car pulled out of the Bakugo’s driveway. Instead of the usual route home, Inko drove back to the hospital despite just getting off work. Dr. Garaki had made room to see Izuku about his quirk after she explained to him that there was no sign of manifestation yet.
Izuku had spent the entire day at school coming up with ideas of what his quirk could be. Katsuki and all his other classmates enthusiastically helped, trying their best to activate his quirk before his appointment. Usually Izuku hated being the center of attention, but he couldn’t deny that this was the best day he’d had at school yet. Even when Mitsuki picked him and Katsuki up and brought them back to the Bakugo residence like she did everyday.
“What if my quirk, it’s that, I can like, make fire! But into different shapes!” Izuku happily recalled his classmates' theories to his mom as she drove.
“Oh, maybe! That would be fun, huh?” She replied.
“Or! Or! It could be that I can move stuff, but big stuff! Like, what if I could move the, the car by myself?” Izuku kept rambling on, even when Inko stopped responding to every new idea. She did that sometimes. Izuku never really noticed though.
It didn’t take long at all to get to the hospital. Inko let him lead the way to the front desk where he was bouncing on the balls of his feet excitedly, soaking up the compliments from Inko’s coworkers. They wished him luck in his quirk diagnosis as he skipped down the halls, Inko trailing tiredly behind him. He never stopped spouting out ideas and theories of what his quirk could be, even as they walked through Dr. Garaki’s office door. Izuku was ready to get started immediately, letting him run his tests and little experiments. The entire time he ranted on about how he was going to be the next best hero. When Dr. Garaki left momentarily to pick up his X-ray results, Izuku was practically vibrating in his seat.
“Do you think my quirk is going to be as cool as Kacchan's?” He questioned happily.
“Of course I do.” Inko said as she gave him a small nod. “Now let’s be patient until Dr. Garaki comes back, okay?”
“Okay!” Izuku all but yelled.
It was the most agonizing three minutes in all of Izuku’s four years of living, but he kept himself partially distracted by revisiting his and his classmates' theories. He imagined himself lifting a fallen building, rescuing everyone with a smile on his face like All Might. Or flames engulfing him like a fiery shield as he faced a villain head on. He saw himself stopping an out of control train with his mind before all the passengers came out to celebrate him. The ideas were fun, but he just couldn’t wait another second. Luckily Dr. Garaki came waddling back into the room soon after, but his smile was no longer present. Izuku didn't notice, he was busy literally squealing with excitement.
Dr. Garaki sat down in his chair with a sigh before facing him and his mom. “Sorry kid, it's not gonna happen.”
Izuku’s entire body went cold as his All Might figure fell to the floor. In every single possibility he had thought of, there was not a single one that ended up in this scenario. Inko was just as shocked, holding her hand on his back in an attempt to comfort him. It didn’t make sense. Both Inko and Hisashi have quirks; have parents and grandparents with quirks!
“Izuku should’ve already manifested one of yours or your husband's quirks or a combination of both but after reviewing his X-rays I don’t think he's going to. You see, when superpowers first began appearing, there were many research studies conducted and doctors discovered a link between the bones in a person's foot and their likelihood of getting a quirk. People with powers on have one joint in their pinky toes. Their bodies have evolved into a more streamlined version of the human form. You can see here that Izuku had two joints in his pinkies; like roughly twenty percent of the population these days.” Dr. Garaki explained while pointing to the X-ray.
Izuku and Inko both stared at the screen in horror. There it was; that awful second joint that would forever ruin Izuku’s life. He stared at his feet, tears welling up in his eyes. Inko and Dr. Garaki kept talking, but Izuku wouldn’t be able to tell you a word of what they said. He couldn’t tell you about the walk out of the hospital or the drive home either. The overwhelming idea that he’s going to have to tell everyone he knows. The thought of how his classmates would laugh, Kacchan's harsh stare he knows he’ll receive for ruining their plans of becoming pros together. He wondered what his dad would say. Hisashi told him to make him proud; and this was nothing to be proud of. Even at four years old he understood that.
At home, he sat on the couch staring down at his All Might figurine. Inko was cooking dinner as they were anxiously awaiting Hisashi's arrival from work. Neither of them could help but flinch ever so slightly at the sound of the door opening.
“Hey, how’d it go?” Hisashi called from the door.
Izuku stayed quiet on the couch like Inko previously instructed him to while she quietly broke the news. Hisashi didn’t say anything, just slammed the door behind him as he went back outside. “Where did he go?” Izuku whispered.
“Just… on a walk. He’ll be back for dinner.” She said, hurrying back to the kitchen while keeping her head down. Hisashi was indeed back for dinner. The most awkwardly quiet dinner he’s ever had; but dinner none the less. They sent him to bed earlier that night, still tucking him and kissing his head good night with tears in their eyes.
Izuku wishes that he had just fallen asleep right then.
“I can’t do this anymore, Inko.” Hisashi said in no attempt to keep his voice down. Still, Izuku could hear Inko shushing him.
“Please, just give me some more time!” Inko sounded panicked. It was getting harder to hear their voices, so Izuku crept out of bed and pushed his ear up to the door. “I’ll find somewhere to send him, just give me a few days!”
“You’ve been saying that for four years! Maybe you should send that thing to one of those sweat shops.”
“He is our son, Hisashi! It’s not his fault he was born this way!” Inko defended. Suddenly, there was a clear smack followed by a gasp from Inko.
“No son of mine will be some quirkless disgrace!” Izuku flinched as his dad screamed. “I never wanted this life, dammit! I’m… I’m leaving tonight. I refuse to spend one more night around that freak. You can come with me, but it stays here.”
“I-I…Hisashi, he’s our son. You can’t honestly expect me to just turn my back on him like this ,” Inko cried, her voice breaking as she grew more and more desperate. “You promised—no matter what, we’d find somewhere good for him!!”
From behind his door, Izuku clenched his fists, struggling not to rush to her side. To defend himself against his dad. He was supposed to be asleep. If they caught him eavesdropping, it would only make things worse. The hitting would start again.
“Then you’ve made your choice already. Do not contact me again. Tell that little mistake whatever lie you make up to keep him away from me. He is the reason our ‘family’ has torn apart. You had a choice.”
And with that, all Izuku can hear is his mother's sobs and screams while the front door slams.
Izuku climbed back into his bed his parents had previously tucked him into and kissed his head like usual. He couldn’t keep his tears in anymore, sobbing into his pillow to muffle the sound. The things his dad had said about him echoed in his head, along with the fact that his parents have been trying to give him away. The longer he thought about it the more it upset him, only making the tears come out from his eyes faster. His pillow was effectively soaked in tears by the time exhaustion caught up to him.
When he woke up, his room was dark and still. He laid in bed for as long as could, too afraid to face the repercussions his extra toe joint brought.
Izuku glanced over the digital clock his parents got him to help him know when he was allowed to leave his room. Admittedly, he had a bad habit of jumping off the couch and making as much noise as he could manage in the mornings. The people who lived in the apartment below them had complained multiple times about his ruckus so his parents bought him a small digital clock. They taught him that when the clock reads 7am, he’s allowed to come out and play. If he happened to wake up before then, he had to play quiet games, like coloring or flashcards he got from school, in his room until it was time to come out.
The clock read 8:47am.
Izuku sighed, climbing out of his bed and creeping over to the door where he stood the night before listening to his parents yell. His dad’s insults speared right into his heart again as he stared down at his feet. When he finally summoned the courage to open the door and peek his head out, he saw the once tidy apartment an absolute mess. There was broken glass and broken dishes everywhere. Clothes littered the ground along with actual trash. Inko was sitting at the dinner table with her head buried in her hands and surrounded by empty bottles.
He walked to her slowly, unaware if she was asleep or not. In the blink of an eye she shot up from the table and looked at Izuku with the angriest expression he had ever seen on her face. He flinched at the sudden sound and movement, but reached his hand out to her to hold; just in case she was sad.
What a wrong move that was.
Inko stared at him with disgust. She muttered under her breath and stood up, towering over Izuku completely. He yelped when she grabbed his hand tightly, squishing his bones together. She raised his arm up, just past the point of comfort.
Izuku whined from the pain, tears already falling from his eyes. She held him there, practically dangling him from his arm before finally throwing him back down towards the ground. He landed harshly, cutting his palm on a piece of broken glass. He used his other hand to push himself onto his feet, clutching the bottom of his shirt with his now blood covered hand.
“M-Mommy… where did daddy go..?” Izuku really should’ve kept his mouth shut. Inko whipped her head towards them and grabbed his shoulder, pushing her thumb into his collarbone.
“Where did he go? How the hell am I supposed to know? He left us. He left me! He left because of you!” She raised a hand and swung down on his face. Hard. “You ruined everything !”
She didn’t stop. She pushed him down and swung her foot into his side, kicking him hard enough to slide around with each hit. Izuku had no other choice than to wrap his arms around his head and wait for it to be over. Inko screamed in his face, telling him how he ruined her life. Her marriage. That he’s the reason she’s doing this. That he caused the one man she loved more than anything else in the world to leave her.
After a while, the abuse stopped. Inko told him to sit on the couch and to not move. He did as he was told, coughing blood and feeling dizzy from the ringing in his ears. Breathing was a difficult task as blood flooded through his nostrils. Sitting there, chest heaving and eyes out of focus, Izuku watched as she pulled all of his belongings out of his room. All his books, toys, blankets, and school projects. Everything.
She smashed his toys one by one in front of him, ripping the arms and legs off action figures and decapitating all of his stuffed animals. Page by page she tore his books and burned his art projects. She took scissors to his clothes, threatening him with them when he begged her to stop.
After what felt like an eternity she pulled him back into his room. His walls were bare and everything had been taken out. All that was left was a mattress on the floor and hooks around the walls, ceiling, and floor that Inko had put in.
“This is your fault. You have no one but yourself to blame.” She threw him across the room and slammed the door shut before he could push himself up, locking it behind her.
“N-No, no, no! Mommy! Please, I’m sorry!” Izuku banged on the door, pleading uselessly. He didn’t understand why this was happening. Why was his mom so mad at him when it was Hisashi who left? What did they mean when they said she should give him up to the sweat shops? Why did she take all of his stuff away? Why did she hit and kick him after she told him at least 100 times ‘we don’t hit or kick or throw things when we’re upset. We take a deep breath and talk about how our hearts feel’? Where did his dad go? When was he coming back? Why don’t his parents love him anymore?
Izuku sobbed and begged at the door for his mother to let him out. He was hurting and needed his mom’s hugs and kisses to make it go away. His ribs were burning and his head was pounding. But what bothered him the most was how his heart ached for some kind of comfort. Even if it wasn’t from Inko; he just needed something to wrap his arms around.
‘This is your fault, Izuku.’ Her voice echoed through his head. He gave up after minutes of begging for freedom before crawling to the mattress on the ground. Hands tucked into his chest and ankles crossed behind them, Izuku’s sobbing turned into subtle sniffling.
Izuku could vaguely hear his mother on the phone from the living room. She had called Mitsuki Bakugo, wailing out fake tears as she told her about his unfortunate diagnosis. She told her about a school in America for quirkless kids, saying that Hisashi had taken him there. That the school is where Izuku will be living for the rest of his life. Inko repeated the same lines over and over to all her friends and his school.
It finally clicked for him that he would not be allowed to leave his room for a very long time. That he’d be locked in for the rest of his life. However short it may be.
He continues living like this for years.
No, Not living.
Surviving.