Chapter Text
“Izuku dear,” Inko had called from the front door, already slipping on her shoes as she waited for her son. It wasn’t long before he came running out, a smile on his face, and an All Might toy in hand. His messy curls that he got from his father bounced nonstop with him, as Izuku vibrated where he stood.
Inko laughed at her son’s excitement, giving him a warm smile, ruffling his hair as she said “Let’s get going, Izu. Time to see what’s going on with that quirk of yours!”
Izuku’s smile faded for just a moment, before he dramatically shook his head, the smile back on his face, small hands clutching onto the All Might toy even harder.
“Yeah! I bet I’m gonna have a super cool quirk, that way Kacchan and I can both be heroes together! We’ll be as strong as All Might,” Izuku declared, holding his toy towards the ceiling.
“Of course, dear,” Inko replied, sitting Izuku down and handing him his shoes. He got them on, but was far too excited to spend time trying to tie his own laces. So, with a small laugh, Inko sat Izuku down again, and tied his laces for him.
Once she was done, she rested her hands on Izuku’s knees for a moment, and then said “Alright, we have a train to catch. Let’s get going, shall we?”
“Yeah!”
And with that, the two were out the door, Izuku keeping somewhat close, but always ahead of Inko. He was playing some kind of hero game with his toy, shouting out random catch phrases – some, Inko knew, and others not so much – and the occasional “And that’s one villain down, All Might sir! Another good day of keeping citizens safe!”
She really needed to go back to monitoring what he was watching, because she could have sworn all he was seeing was All Might videos. The same one on loop, just about every night, as soon as Izuku had finished his dinner. It didn’t even matter if Inko had finished her own dinner or not, because Izuku was up the second he finished eating, tugging her to his room to pull up the video.
Maybe his friends were trying to keep him interested in other heroes as well?
It definitely wasn’t Katsuki trying to get Izuku interested in other heroes, not when the boy was just as equally obsessed with All Might. Mitsuki’s son may try to hide it a bit more than Izuku by at least making sure he had things other than All Might merch to wear, but it was well known by anyone who talked to the boy for less than a minute that he too had a fascination with the Symbol of Peace.
Inko held her bag, which was just hanging on one of her shoulders, tightly between her fingers, looking around on the street they were walking on.
It was a quiet day, and that was something Inko was appreciative of. She had a less busy route that she often took whenever she needed to take the train, but with how little was going on today, she and Izuku were taking a slightly quicker route, closer towards the busier streets.
As she looked ahead again, she noticed Izuku getting further again, smiling as she shook her head. It was getting to be a very common thing that he would run ahead of her, too lost in his daydreams of being a hero, working side by side with his idol.
For now, though, he would just be running with his toy in hand, and Inko could have some more time to worry just a little bit less about her son, knowing that he was safe at home with her, able to run around with his friends instead of worrying about what villain fight to throw himself into next.
She did wonder what his quirk would be. Inko wasn’t too sure about how strong it would be, but at least having one would certainly make Izuku feel better.
“Izuku dear, don’t run too far,” Inko called, her smile faltering as Izuku rounded a corner, already knowing the path to the train by heart. And with such a quiet day, he was sure to be safe. There hadn’t been a single sign of a villain on their path so far, and there had been a few patrolling heroes too.
Not to mention it was a nice day outside.
But it was a mother’s instinct to worry, and Inko often felt she worried more than most. The other mothers she talked to didn’t seem to mind their kids running around without supervision outside, as long as they stuck with their friends if they planned on going far. Inko, on the other hand, hardly ever wanted to let Izuku out of her sights. Especially when he was already accident prone in their own home, tripping over anything that slightly stood out.
And then there was her worry about if his quirk would be able to help him fulfill his dreams, the ones that had Inko wringing her fingers tightly at the thought of them. She didn’t want his path to be more complicated, hoped he could get something that made it easy. Maybe if it was made easy for him, she could worry less.
Mitsuki seemed confident that Katsuki’s quirk would be wonderful in the heroics field, and Katsuki seemed to agree wholeheartedly.
Inko was then suddenly pulled out of her train of thought at the screeching sound coming from the street Izuku had recently turned onto. She immediately broke into a run, clutching her bag tighter as she turned the corner, dark eyes frantically scanning over the street for her boy.
And then she saw the head full of green curls, slammed right against the wall that the car had crashed into.
If there were any other noises outside of the scream she let out as she continued to run to her son, she wasn’t aware of them. She was far too focused on her boy, and the way he slid to the ground, limp, as the car was pushed back.
Inko hit the ground hard, scraping her knees as she reached for Izuku, pulling him close and checking for his little heartbeat, and signs of breathing.
There was nothing.
She screamed louder, ignoring the hand on her shoulder that was probably trying to tell her they were calling for an ambulance, or trying to give some kind of advice to help her son. All of these things that would feel irrelevant when she knew he had so quickly died.
Maybe there was some kind of chance for him, someone who could bring him back.
But nobody had stepped forward to help her. No miracle doctor who was just so happening to walk down the street, and would run to her son’s rescue.
Between her sobs and the wait for the ambulance, she looked around on the street, not bothering to spare any kind of glance to the driver who had hit her son.
And then she saw it: the All Might toy, stranded in the middle of the street, just between the skid marks the car’s tires had made.
Her clumsy boy must have dropped it, didn’t he? He dropped it, and jumped into the street without thinking twice.
Her sweet, clumsy, and brave child was gone.
She didn’t need to wait for the people in the ambulance to tell her that.
Hospitals smelt far too clean for Inko’s preference. At home, there was always some kind of smell going through the air, but never the cleaners she had used. None of the chemicals she had used to try and make sure the house was clean, despite it only being her and a four year old there.
Inko and Izuku were often the people going to visit others, guests a rarity in their apartment. But she still liked to keep it clean, especially when she was often home alone. Hisashi has been overseas for work for so long, and Izuku was often with his friends whenever he wasn’t at preschool.
Though, whenever she was done cleaning the home, she would either cook or bake something, typically with a smell strong enough that it would cover up the smell of the chemicals.
Izuku had always seemed to appreciate those cleaning days, enjoying the food that he would come home to, and happily eat.
Who was she going to share food with now?
When she and Izuku made it to the hospital, all they did was confirm what she knew, that Izuku was dead. There was nothing they could do.
It really made her wonder why she was in the hospital for so long now, with the sun already set, and her usual dinnertime having passed nearly an hour ago.
And now she was waiting, clinging onto the intact All Might toy as if it was her lifeline. Mitsuki and Masaru had insisted on picking her up from the hospital, and that she would be staying with them for a while, until they were sure that she was okay.
In an attempt to not become a burden to her friend, she had tried to insist over the phone that she would be okay, but the sobs that heaved through her every word gave her away instantly, and there wasn’t much of an argument she could put up against her best friend. Especially when Mitsuki was such a strong minded woman, who would stand firmly on whatever she believed the right course of action would be.
So Inko was going to be staying with the Bakugos.
“Inko,” Mitsuki said as she walked up, her voice low as she looked at her friend. Mitsuki frowned at the sight of her friend, expression sympathetic as she continued to walk over, taking a seat next to Inko on the bench the second she was close enough. The green haired woman was pulled into a hug, where her crying picked up once more at the gesture.
Inko could only imagine how much of a mess she looked like right now, after crying nearly nonstop for the past few hours.
Mitsuki slightly rocked the both of them while she held onto the hug, running her fingers through Inko’s hair with the hand closest.
Once Inko calmed down enough, Mitsuki asked “What all have they said?”
Inko bit her lip, trying to stop it from quivering, as it had been doing for a while now.
With a deep inhale, she started trying to explain the situation to her friend, how they were keeping Izuku for another few days, while they finished up their reports. And then she could start planning the funeral.
The funeral.
God, she wasn’t ready for that part.
Then there was also all of the injuries Izuku had gotten, all of them together, ultimately killing her son. She wasn’t ready to say those out loud, really solidify them. But it was a mess of internal and external bleeding, and so many of his little bones, broken.
“I… I can’t do this,” Inko cried, clinging onto her friend’s shirt. “I thought I’d have so much more time with my boy… t-that I’d g-go first!”
Mitsuki actually didn’t seem to be able to say anything. A woman so full of words, and all she could bring herself to do was rub soothing circles on Inko’s hands, eyebrows furrowed as she took in the information.
Inko heaved out a disbelieving laugh, saying “It doesn’t even really f-feel real just y-y-yet… But it hurts so much because t-this has been a worry for so l-long. But this is so s-s-soon.”
The two fall into silence again, other than the slowing cries from Inko. Once the crying came to a near stop, the blonde woman quietly led her friend outside the building, where they both got into their respective seats in the car, starting their drive back to the Bakugo residence.
It was about halfway through their trip that Mitsuki’s fingers drummed against the steering wheel, and she asked “Have you called Hisashi yet?”
Ah, right, her husband… she did have to tell him, didn’t she? The hospital probably hadn’t thought to call him since she, Izuku’s mother, was already there.
The job fell on her, and she wasn’t ready to tell another soul that in the brief moment that Izuku was out of her sight, she lost him. Permanently.
So she shakes her head, frowning as she bunched up the hem of her skirt between her shaking fingers.
“I can call him, if you would like,” Mitsuki offered. When she spared a glance over to Inko, the green haired woman just gave a small nod in response. “Alright, then that’s what I’ll do tonight. It should be about time for Hisashi to get up, anyway. You… you just… get some rest. I’ll bring dinner up to you too.”
When Mitsuki got home, she did her best to quietly get Inko inside, as well as the suitcase she had put together when they had briefly taken a stop at the Midoriya apartment. It was getting late, so the house was relatively quiet.
Up until it wasn’t.
The moment that Mitsuki turned on the entryway light, the sound of someone running around upstairs, and then making their way downstairs was quickly known. Soon enough, Katsuki was there, with Masaru not far back, trying to grab their son, and bring him back to bed.
Mitsuki spared a glance at Inko, trying to see how her friend was doing.
The situation that would usually have Inko at least grinning at Katsuki’s antics had done nothing to lighten up Inko’s mood, instead bringing a slight frown, and those watery eyes back. Mitsuki knew that Katsuki wouldn’t be the best person to bring to Inko so soon, not when their boys were so close.
“Katsuki,” Mitsuki started, giving her son a disappointing frown. “You’re supposed to be in bed!”
The boy scowled at his mother before storming his way over to Inko, mouth already opening to ask her something.
Surprisingly, it was Masaru who grabbed their son, covering his mouth to prevent whatever question it was from coming out.
There was a reason Katsuki was supposed to be in bed already. He was sure to ask about Izuku, question where he was, what the doctor had said about Izuku’s quirk, and so much more. There was no way that they wanted Inko to undergo the questioning of a four year old already, especially since Mitsuki and Masaru still had to figure out how to tell Katsuki that Izuku was dead.
Was there any easy way to break that to a child? That their friend was dead?
It really didn’t feel like it.
And then Masaru had dropped Katsuki with a sharp intake of air, his left hand flying to the right, which had been keeping Katsuki from asking anything.
Damn brat… bit Masaru.
Now it was Mitsuki’s turn to take care of Katsuki.
The moment he ran close, she managed to grab him with practiced ease. Times like these were becoming more and more common the longer he had his quirk, and Mitsuki was beginning to get tired of the attitude, and the constant defiance to whatever she said.
Masaru was the one still trying to be patient with Katsuki though, his patience always beating her own.
But if Katsuki was lashing out at Masaru already just to ask a question that he thought he couldn’t wait for, Mitsuki was going to step in.
So she held her son at her hip, and quickly took him back up the stairs. He squirmed in her hold, but being four years old, there wasn’t much he could do. Sure, he had a quirk, but it was a quickly learned lesson to not use it in the house.
And Katsuki had given that lesson to himself, when he burnt one of his All Might posters a few months ago.
As soon as they were in his room, Mitsuki gently sat him on his bed, sitting in front of him. She would let him talk first this time, let him get out what he wanted.
Katsuki seemed to wait for her to talk, but realized pretty quickly what she was doing.
“Why does Auntie Inko look so upset? And where’s Izuku,” Katsuki asked. Was he really just wanting to check on Inko? That was why he was fighting so hard to get to her? Maybe Izuku was the priority until he saw how Inko looked.
“Kiddo…” she really hated trying to think of the best way to describe what was going on, especially when she hadn’t even gotten to talk to Masaru yet. She let out a long sigh, and said “Something happened today… and it’s not something we’re going to tell you when you’re supposed to be asleep. This is a conversation for a well rested child.”
“But then I’ll be wondering all night,” Katsuki protested.
“Well you won’t be wondering if you’re sleeping,” Mitsuki retorted. Her son frowned at her, crossing his arms and trying to pull her into a staring contest. She played along with it for a bit, before making him blink by blowing in his face. Katsuki let out an upset shout before softly kicking Mitsuki away. “Hey!”
“You cheated! You’re not supposed to cheat!”
“And you’re supposed to be sleeping!”
It was the frown that her son gave her that made her feel bad, and the way he hung his head as he turned to tuck himself in.
“Auntie Inko is hardly ever sad… and she looks sadder than I’ve ever seen,” Katsuki whispered.
That was what had Mitsuki ready to break down.
So she pulled her son into a tight hug, so grateful that she still had her boy. It felt so selfish to think that way, especially when her best friend was downstairs mourning her own son, but she wanted to cling to her son more than ever. It was like a huge slap about just how important he was to her, even if the temper he had developed made it difficult to keep trying to stay close.
But she was going to do her damn best.
Her fingers dug into his shirt as she pulled him tight, up until Katsuki was pushing her off, saying “You’re being weird, old hag.”
Mm, maybe taking herself to bed would have been nice by now.
“Alright, brat. Off to bed with you.” She ruffled his spiky hair, and then walked out of his room, shutting the door behind her.
As she got back downstairs, she could hear Masaru talking. Getting closer to the kitchen, she could hear Inko talking too, her voice quiet and raspy from all of her crying. Once she was in the kitchen, she could see Inko crying again, this time just a steady amount of tears as she made an attempt to eat the dinner that Masaru had heated up.
“I just don’t want to be a burden on you guys,” Inko had said, replying to something Masaru said, that Mitsuki hadn’t heard while she was walking up.
But Mitsuki was smart enough to know what she was talking about.
“Inko, us having you stay with us is no big deal, let alone a burden on us. Our job gives us more money than we need most of the time, and we both know you hardly ask for much anyway. Just let us do this for you while you heal.”
The green haired woman just went back to solemnly eating her food, eventually letting herself be led to the room that the Masaru had set up for her while Mitsuki went to grab Inko.
The All Might toy never left her sights after the hospital, either in her purse, or in her hands. When she was led upstairs, it was clutched tightly in both of her hands, and was only set down when Mitsuki tried to get Inko settled for the night.
None of the Bakugos saw her emerge much from the room for days after that.
Katsuki had been difficult to handle the next day, basically demanding answers. The best that Mitsuki and Masaru could manage, with Masaru keeping control over the conversation, being trusted to handle the heavier topics better, had been a “Izuku isn’t coming back from the hospital… and Auntie Inko is really sad about it. So I think it’s for the best that we don’t talk about him much for now, and help her cheer up, okay? But what she needs for now is some space.”
Their son had reluctantly accepted that explanation, but quickly ran outside, saying something about how he was going to go spend time with his friends.
He didn’t come back home until dinner, and didn’t look much better himself.
Mitsuki wondered what was going on his head, how he had processed the conversation. But if he really wanted to talk about it, he would. If there was anything she could trust her son to be, it would be honest, and open when he knew he needed to be.
It was on the third day that Inko came running out of the room, phone in hand while she slipped on a jacket, clumsily running to the door as she slipped on her flats that had been sitting in the entrance ever since she had gotten to the Bakugo household.
Mitsuki quickly pushed herself off of the couch, where she had been watching tv with Masaru, waiting for Inko to come down for lunch so they could head out later to finish up some paperwork at the hospital, and officially start preparing things for the funeral.
“Inko!? Inko, where are you going?” Mitsuki was beyond concerned as her friend rushed out the door. She would never admit it to Inko, but she was beyond worried to leave the woman alone, especially so soon after she lost the child that had become her entire world.
Mitsuki knew Inko before either of them became mothers, and the way Inko had changed when she had Izuku had been one of the sweetest things to Mitsuki, remembering how fond she had been of Katsuki when he was first born too. Soon enough, so many of their conversations were about their children, and neither of them seemed to mind.
With Katsuki getting older, Mitsuki was trying to give her boy a little bit more space, especially when he was spending time with his friends. She didn’t want to supervise his every action, let him learn from his own mistakes.
And the way he had insisted on his personal space had definitely helped in that decision.
But Inko had just about always hovered around Izuku. It was Mitsuki who had to tell Inko that it was okay to let Izuku out of the house without much supervision, that she didn’t need to try to keep some kind of hold on him at all times. It took a while, but soon enough, Inko tried to step back a bit, but always kept a watchful eye out.
And that watchful eye wasn’t enough this time, and Mitsuki could only imagine the regret Inko was feeling, the way she was beating herself up over it.
That was exactly why Mitsuki was so nervous when Inko was running off, not a single word about where she was going.
“Inko,” Mitsuki called again, quickly putting on her slippers and running out the door, chasing her friend, and eventually catching up to her, grabbing the green haired woman by one of her arms.
Inko twirled around, fingers tightly grasping onto Mitsuki’s arms as she said “The doctors said that Izuku is awake… that his quirk manifested… Izuku… awake.”
Mitsuki’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She hadn’t ever heard of a quirk manifestation saving someone like this. When it had already been days after the death.
What she knew is that she needed answers, and she wasn’t going to let Inko get them on her own.
She pursed her lips for a moment as she tried to think over what was happening, some other thing that the doctor could have said that had maybe tricked Inko into thinking that Izuku was alive, a poor choice of wording on their end that had provided false hope.
“Well, you’re definitely not going to be running there. C’mon, let me drive you,” Mitsuki said, tugging her friend back to the house, where Inko practically rushed into the passenger seat, clinging onto her phone tightly as she waited for Mitsuki to get in herself, buckled up and ready to go.
Neither of them talked during the drive, both too curious about what was going on with Izuku.
Inko had always wanted to believe that a quirk would be what kept her boy safe. It seemed that the one thing she had wanted to hope for when Izuku was so intent on putting himself in such a risky field had happened, if the call she was given by the doctors said anything.
He was alive, and even though she didn’t get to see or hear him over the call, she wanted to believe that she truly was okay, that this wasn’t some sick joke.
She could tell Mitsuki was wondering the same as her, how a quirk manifestation had saved her son from death when he was three days in the door. But Inko wouldn’t question it if she got to hold her child again.
Well, she’d most likely question it later, when she had made sure that Izuku really was alive and okay.
Mitsuki’s expression said plenty of her concerns in the frequent glances she gave, things like how Inko shouldn’t get her hopes up too much, how she probably didn’t hear right. Maybe all that Inko heard was that she can take Izuku back, have his body for his funeral.
Her initial excitement had fallen the longer she was in the car, her frantic need to just run to the hospital. The longer the ride took, and the longer that Mitsuki and Inko stayed quiet, the less she wanted to firmly believe that her boy was alive.
It had been difficult to come to terms with the fact that he was dead at all. She had mourned the words she’d been told, but to actually believe them, feel that they were true, was a whole other matter.
Even though she could hardly believe it, a smile was still so hard for her, especially when in every instance she had made an attempt, she couldn’t help but think about Izuku. She had felt so horrible whenever any of the Bakugos said something that made her smile, and so she would force the smile away.
Why smile when she felt so guilty about Izuku’s death? If she had called to keep him closer, held his hand on the way to the train, he would have been fine. Their visit to the hospital would have been for an entirely different reason.
The second the two of them were in the hospital driveway, Inko didn’t even wait for her friend to fully park before she was out the door, rushing towards the entry.
She didn’t even need to rush to the desk, not when Izuku was right there in the hospital entry, held by one of the doctors, while the other doctor near him just held his hands behind his back, a smile underneath his bushy mustache as he turned towards Inko.
Izuku turned towards his mother, face tearstained as one hand held onto the big hospital gown and sweater he wore, while the other held onto the coat of the doctor that was holding him.
He really is alive, Inko thought as she ran over to Izuku, immediately pulling him away from the doctor, and into her own tight embrace. He clung onto her too, but not nearly as tight as she was him. She ran her fingers through his hair when she had held him long enough that she knew this was real, that her boy really was alive, could be brought home.
“It seems his quirk manifested,” the doctor who was holding Izuku started. “It’s the first of its kind, which is a pretty shocking thing to say, when eighty percent of the world has a quirk.”
“A resurrection quirk,” the other doctor said. This was the one that she was supposed to meet for Izuku’s appointment a few days ago, Dr. Garaki. “It seems that the appointment is no longer needed. We’ve already filed for it to be put into the quirk registry, and that should be fully processed soon.”
That was when the doctor who had been holding Izuku leaned closer to Inko, whispering “I’d look out for your son, Mrs. Midoriya. He definitely remembers the crash, woke up screaming and then wouldn’t stop crying until he knew you were on the way.” The doctor placed their hand on Inko’s shoulder, giving it a small squeeze before walking back to Dr. Garaki.
“We’re not sure of the limits, but it seems that the few days he spent unconscious was his quirk building up energy for a mass healing through his body, make sure he’s in the best condition it’s willing to take him before bringing him back to life,” Dr.Garaki explained. “He still has a few small cuts, but nothing that won’t be fully healed by the end of the week.”
“Mama,” Izuku started, trying to push his mother off finally. “Squeezing too tight.”
Inko slightly loosened her hold, but wasn’t fully prepared to let him go. She still kept a hand on his head, continuing to run her fingers through his hair.
“No more broken bones? He’s not bleeding anywhere anymore,” Inko questioned, finally looking up at the doctors.
“All of those were fully healed by his quirk,” Dr. Garaki confirmed. “And we’ve already checked on him as much as he needs to be. He’s free to be taken home.”
Inko doesn’t know when Mitsuki got there, but the blonde woman gently placed her hand on Inko’s shoulder, talking to the doctors as she said “Thank you. We’ll be sure to make sure he stays safe… we don’t exactly want to test the limits of that quirk anytime soon.”
Once they were back in the car, Inko didn’t go back to the passenger seat. While always keeping some kind of hold on Izuku, she buckled him in the middle of the backseats in the car, and buckled herself up next to him.
She had to make sure he would stay with her this time. Inko was given another chance, and she wasn’t going to let something happen to him again, something that could take him away.
Izuku had thought that his mother was strict with how often she was questioning him about where he was going before he got hit by that car… but now he couldn’t go anywhere without her. He usually liked to be around her, and really wanted to stick so close to her after the first week with how scary it had been when the car swerved after seeing him in the road, inevitably just making and worse and crashing into Izuku, but his own friends were getting annoyed whenever his mother was there, starting to say that they were just going to go home.
Katsuki was frustrated about it too, but he was actually visiting Izuku at his house, the one spot that his mom wasn’t entirely hovering, and Izuku could actually get some time to himself.
Though, it often felt like Katsuki was visiting because Auntie Mitsuki was constantly coming over, usually with a bunch of snacks to share with the Midoriya household.
Auntie Mitsuki was spending more time with Izuku, though, a huge contrast to his friends. And whenever she was over, if she wasn’t around Izuku, she would have Katsuki hanging out with Izuku instead, while she went to talk to his mom.
Today was a quiet day though. He had holed himself up in his room, holding the toy that he had been worried he would have lost to a car a few weeks ago. He was glad that All Might had made it, but he was frustrated with what happened to make sure it was okay.
He did try to look at the plus side of the situation, like how he had a quirk! It wasn’t something he could use to help him like Katsuki’s, but he had a quirk!
How it would come of use for him, he would figure that out later.
He jumped off of his bed, walking over to his bookshelf and pulling out the notebook he had started his hero analysis notes on. Though, it was as he was about to sit at his desk that he heard a knock at the front door.
Izuku quickly ran to the door, beating his mother to the front door since his room was closer than the kitchen, where she had been trying to prepare lunch for the both of them.
The only visitors they ever really had were the Bakugos, and detectives for a little while, who would talk to his mom about the accident, and their progress in wrapping everything up. So Izuku was visibly surprised when it was people he didn’t know at all at the door. There were three of them, and all of them were wearing a suit.
Though, the woman at the front wore a skirt instead.
None of them managed to get out a word before Izuku’s mom was suddenly at the door, gently leading Izuku to stand behind her as she stood in the doorway, saying “Uh, hello. Is there anything I can help you with?”
“Yes, Mrs. Midoriya. I’m the commission president, and these are two of my trusted bodyguards. I was wondering if I could come in, by any chance,” the woman in the front asked.
His mom seemed to ponder over it for a moment, clasping onto Izuku’s hand as she said “What is it that you want to talk about?”
“We were hoping to talk to you about your son,” the woman answered. That seemed to frustrate Izuku’s mom, as she said “I’m well aware that the commission is in charge of heroes, and if you’re here to talk about him, this isn’t a topic I’m willing to discuss.”
“Please, Mrs. Midoriya, we just think that his quirk would work rather well in the heroics field, and we could help him learn. With a quirk with such a rarity, it would be a waste to not give him a chance in the heroics field,” the commission president explained.
“My son’s quirk is activated with him dying. Because it brings him back from the dead. We have no clue what the limits are, but I won’t be testing it out. Izuku won’t be going into heroics just so he can put himself at risk, I won’t allow it,” his mother argued, her voice final, and she slams the door in the commission president’s face.
Izuku was told to not go answering the door after that, but he didn’t plan to either. Not when he was too busy holing himself up in his room after hearing her basically say that she didn’t want to allow him to be a hero.
Eventually, Izuku was back in preschool, where he knew his mother couldn’t be. There were plenty of fun things he had missed too! All of those projects he could have done with his classmates!
But within all fairness to his mom, dying was a scary thing, and the month at home had been nice for the most part.
And apparently, even in a world where there were so many unique powers, people didn’t usually come back from the dead, so they were unsure how to handle Izuku’s situation much anyway.
He was in the middle of coloring with Katsuki when there was someone at the door. Their teacher had stepped out then after talking in a hushed tone to whoever was out there, before she eventually just stepped out entirely.
Immediately, everyone broke out into their own conversations, wondering what was happening. It wasn’t often that their teacher had to leave the room to talk to someone, so they were naturally all nosy.
And then she came back, scanning the room for a moment before her eyes landed on Izuku, and she said “You’re needed out here, Midoriya.”
With a frown, Izuku put his crayons down, and walked out the door, ignoring how the whispers only increased.
He had learned in his very short time in school that anyone being called out of the classroom wasn’t fun. In fact, it felt embarrassing when it was his turn to be called out of the room.
Once he was out of the room, he looked up to see the commission president again, who gave him a smile of her own. Izuku was nervous to see her again after how his mother yelled at her, but he also knew that she came with a promise to help him be a hero, which had been his biggest dream.
He had always thought he’d be a hero with his mom or dad’s quirk, and was struggling to think about how his own quirk would benefit him. But the commission president had said that she’d figure it out. She could help him use his quirk! Be a hero!
“Midoriya, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” she started. “If you don’t mind, we would like for you to follow us. We’re just going to talk for a bit, and then you’ll be right back to your class.”
Izuku looked up at them, thinking it over for a minute, especially thinking about how his mom would react if she found out.
He didn’t want to tell her though. Not when he remembered how protective she had been lately.
“Alright,” he said, and the commission president held out her hand, and then led him to another classroom, this one empty. There were two different people with her this time, staying by her side.
Once they were all seated, she pulled out some paper and crayons, saying “I figured you may want something to do, because our conversation may take a while.”
“Thank you,” Izuku said with a smile, happily accepting the drawing materials.
The commission president and the two people that came with her sat just across from Izuku, at one of the group tables. She sat in the middle, just as Izuku did on his side of the table, where he started trying to draw something.
It didn’t take long for him to settle on wanting to draw All Might.
“Now, Midoriya, do you have any idea why we may be talking to you?”
“Because you want to help me use my quirk to be a hero, right?” He spared a glance up from the start of his drawing before quickly looking back down, scribbling away.
“You’re a very smart boy. Would you want the commission to help train you? Start getting you prepared for heroics earlier than your friends would be allowed?”
Izuku looked up at her with a smile before nodding vigorously, saying “I think it’s really really cool that you wanna help! My mom is way too protective over me, and it got even worse after I got hit… and I don’t want to go against mama… but…”
“But?”
“But it feels like she doesn’t want to listen to what I want to do anymore…” he stops drawing, instead frowning at the All Might picture. “She doesn’t want to let me watch my favorite All Might video anymore because it’s too scary for her, but she’s hardly ever in the room when I watch it. “
“Does she? What else has she been doing ever since your quirk developed?”
Izuku thought about it, about the things she had been doing that had upset him. There were plenty of things that upset him…
He turned back to his drawing, trying to draw himself next to All Might as he started with his list of things that had made him upset with his mother. How she refused to let him out of her sight, how his friends were wanting to be around him less and less because of her hovering, how it felt like she was just ignoring what he wanted to do, and he felt like she just barely let him go to school again.
By the time he was done, and the commission president had listened the entire time with an occasional question, she said “Alright, we’re done for today. We have what we need. Thank you, Midoriya. We hope to be able to talk to you again soon.”
And then Izuku was taken back to his classroom, without much of any time left in class. He had no clue just how much things would change after talking to the commission president after that, but he would find out soon enough.