Chapter Text
If you had asked Midoriya Izuku how he felt about his mother's death, he wouldn't be able to answer. He didn't know how he felt, he wasn't sad, but he wasn't happy about it either. He had been walking back from his boyfriend's ex-boyfriends house when he saw all of the cop cars around the house. He didn't cry when they told him she had killed herself, all he did was ask what was going to happen to him now. Which brings him to where he is now, sitting in some Detectives, who's name he's forgotten, office.
Waiting for someone to tell him what's going to happen, as he didn't have anyone else, not his father's (who died before he was born) not his friends, he doesn't want to bother them with his problems. Not his ex-boyfriend, he was never going to talk to that cheating man whore ever again. Not his mom's best friend, hands on his face, hands on his chest, hands on his thighs, hands on his…. Not Kacchan, he hasn’t seen him since they were ten. He doesn't know What he's going to do, he doesn't want to go into foster care, Jiro had told him things she had heard happened to others, things he doesn't wish on his worst enemy. He had also seen the marks that cover her back and upper thighs.
He was pulled out of his Internal turmoil when the door to the office opened. “Would you like something to eat?” The detective asked coming into the office and closing the door slightly. “I don't have a lot of things left but I do have some meat buns and onigiri. ” Midoriya turned towards the detective as the man kept talking as he walked over to his desk and pulled his bag onto the desk, pulling out two packaged meat buns and a container filled with onigiri. “if you want both you can have them but if you just want one that's fine too.” The detective said putting both things on the table in front of the couch Midoriya was sitting on.
“Are you going to tell me what's going to happen to me?” Midoriya asked taking one of the meat buns. The detective sighs and drags his hand down his face, “yes I am” he responded, taking a short breath in before continuing. “Do you have any family members you can contact to come get you?” The detective asks, sitting In the chair on the other side of the table. “No but my mom gave me this number when I was younger, she said to call this number if something happened To her.” He responded pulling out his phone and pulling up the number, and facing the cracked screen towards the detective.
Midoriya scrunched his face a bit when recognition flashed on the detective's face before going right back to neutral. “Would you like me to call them them?” The detective asked, sitting slightly more straight than before. “I guess.” He said, shrugging his shoulders before curling Into himself a bit. “Okay I'll be right back.” The detective responded standing up and leaving the office, closing the door with a small click.
When the detective came back it felt like it had been hours but most likely had only been 50 minutes. “I have some news for you.” The detective said sitting back in the chair from before. “Okay.” Midoriya responded sheepishly. “We were able to find records for any family you had left, and we were able to contact your father.” The detective said, leaning slightly forward.
What?
His father?
That's not possible.
“What do you mean, my father died before I was born?” He asked, because what the hell is this man talking about?. Unless somebody figured out how to raise the dead there was no way his dad was alive. The detective looked confused at what he said. “Your father is very much alive.”
If his father is alive then she lied to him.
WHY DID SHE LIE TO HIM.
If he's alive does that mean he just didn't want him.
If he was alive why didn't he save him before it was too late.
Why didn't he save him from all that pain…..
“Are you alright Midoriya?” Midoriya's eyes snapped up as the detective spoke. “Yeah” he responded, digging his nails into his sleeved arm. “Is he- is he coming to get me?” He asked stuttering slightly. “He is.” The detective, he really needs to ask him what his name is again, said leaning back further against the chair.