Never Thought I'd Get Everything I Wanted

by LawfulGoodChaos

Summary:

Slowly, unsteadily, Oboro and Tomura heal. And move on.

Notes:

This is 95% fluff, 5% angst that comes with the nature of healing. It's very ramble-y and not as edited as I usually post since it's such a big chunk. There's pretty much nothing of substance here, I just had to walk through them healing for my own sanity. Covers about 1.5 years post escape in mostly small scenes.

Also the ship showed up unexpectedly, it's very minimal--I don't really write romance--but it is there.

Their first direction was away. Away from the fight and the remnants of the lab and the bar and everything else. Then, when they stumbled across a police line, Oboro did his best to skirt them around without being noticed. 

Tomura raised an eyebrow at this but understood when Oboro whispered “All for One has a lot of the nearby precincts, right?” 

It wasn’t all that hard to get through, the officers were clearly more there to keep civilians out. Barely two blocks past them, life began to emerge. It was clearly a shitty neighborhood, but in broad daylight there were people on the streets, shops open for business and Oboro had to figure out where the fuck to go from there.

Tomura seemed a bit overwhelmed, but not quite as much as Oboro expected. Maybe his field trips with the villain had taken him into public every so often. He shook off the thought, he had to stay focused. They had to get away, and then somewhere safe. 

He spotted a sign for a train station and beelined them that way. It was practically empty, the sign over the first track readable from a distance indicating it was midday, so no worries about the rush. Oboro glanced around and made sure no one was looking their way when the pair hopped the turnstiles. There were cameras for sure, but in this area, Oboro doubted there was a nearby security guard or officer to give them a hard time for it. At worst a camera might catch them and staff would keep an eye out in the future. Nothing that mattered right now.

Oboro was relieved to recognize the line. He’d never been to this part of Tokyo, but the incoming train would take them through an area he had, and there was another line from there that would take them through Musutafu. 

If All for One did win, he’d probably assume Oboro would take them in this direction, but with his warper disintegrated, he probably wouldn’t be able to make it there before Oboro could get them to UA That was the plan he settled on as the train pulled in and they slipped on, the car empty save for a sleeping homeless woman. 

Nedzu, of any entity with the resources to help them, was as incorruptible as could be. UA was practically a fortress. Oboro couldn’t think of anywhere else they had a chance of being safe unless All Might was victorious in that fight. And even then, he knew the villain had a network. This was their best option. 

The train grew more crowded as they passed through increasingly populated areas. 

Tomura pressed into his side. “Where are we going?” He eyed the other passengers warrily, fists clenching and unclenching. 

“Musutafu.” Oboro said. “An old teacher of mine, he can help us.” 

“Will he?” Tomura asked. “Both of us?” 

That question never crossed Oboro’s mind. “I can’t imagine otherwise.” 

Tomura nodded, and then rested his head on Oboro’s shoulder.

Oboro straightened and noticed an old lady across the aisle smiling softly at him. It took him a minute to process, before returning the expression. Positive interactions with strangers, what a weird thing to miss. 

The next train station was crowded, which made changing lines difficult. Eventually he spotted a couple of teenagers just before they hopped the turnstile and while the nearby officer was chasing them, he did the same with Tomura. 

He’d almost forgotten the whole everything-costs-money thing from years without it. He eyed an ancient looking payphone and considered asking around for change before deciding against it. He had no idea who was safe, no idea how far All for One’s influence stretched. It would be just his luck to make it this far and then try to bum a hundred yen off a villain. 

This line didn’t get them quite there, but Oboro thought another few miles on foot were a better option than risking getting on another train in a well policed suburban area. 

“How’re you doing, squirt?” Oboro checked in as they walked steadily down a quiet street. 

“Okay.” Tomura replied, eyes darting around. “A little tired.” 

Oboro looked at him. 

“And overwhelmed.” Tomura admitted. 

“Entirely fair.” Oboro glanced at a clock over an electronics store. It was late afternoon and schools would probably let out soon. It might be good to get to UA after that, but not too late, before everyone went home. 

They passed a middle school and Oboro frowned. It seemed quiet, no lights in the windows. What was the date? He stopped at a newspaper stand a block later, and grimaced. It was the school year break. Oboro figured it was later in spring by the nice weather but it must be unseasonably nice. Someone would still be at the school though, right? Especially Nedzu, he practically lived there! Worse come to worse though, the staff could most likely be trusted as well. He couldn’t imagine the principal not vetting everyone to the extreme. 

Oboro knew where he was going, but finally started to recognize the blocks. A cafe where he’d hung out with his friends. A craft store where he’d tried to convince his dad to buy a bunch of patches for his bomber jacket. 

“Okay, before we get there, I should probably warn you.” 

Tomura snapped to him, startled. 

“Before I was kidnapped, I was a hero student. We’re going to UA. I trust the principal, Nedzu, to be able to help. He will not hurt you, I promise.” 

“You were…” Tomura’s mouth hung open. “I don’t understand, Sensei… All for One hates heroes. Why would he let you…” 

Oboro wasn’t sure if the kid was about to say live, or something about taking care of him but Oboro didn’t have much of an answer anyway. 

“He wanted my quirk. He got it. Us getting along seemed like a happy coincidence to him, and it’s not like I’m any sort of threat without it.” Oboro tried not to let any bitterness seep in. He missed his quirk, desperately, like a missing limb. But there were more important things, like his life and his kid. And the people he cared about that he now had a chance to see again. 

He’d never get over losing his quirk, not entirely, but he wouldn’t let that get in the way of anything else. 

Tomura seemed to move on from that line of questioning. “I knew Sen–I knew he took your quirk but… what was it?” 

Oboro smiled at nothing in particular. “Clouds.” 

UA came into view, as big and imposing as ever. Oboro had to stop in his tracks for a minute just to look at it. It didn’t seem much changed. A little more security at the gate, maybe. Speaking of the gate. 

There were kids and tourists loitering about, no doubt taking advantage of the school holiday to get a look at the prestigious academy without the embarrassment of bumping into its students or staff. The front gate was closed off tight, and it would look strange to try and go through it.

“We’ll try the side entrance.” He decided, pulling Tomura back down the block and then around along the long, white wall that marked the campus perimeter. 

The side entrance was also locked up tight, but there was no one around. Oboro rang the buzzer at the gate, waited for a few moments, then a few more. Just as he was about to buzz it again, the doors slid apart. 

“Alright then.” Oboro said, mildly bemused that no call to explain their presence had come through the speaker or anything like that, but he wasn’t going to knock it. The gate slid shut behind them and while Tomura watched it warily, Oboro felt a tension in him unclench in a way it hadn’t in years and years and years. 

This was the teacher’s entrance, their parking lot immediately in front of them hosting only two vehicles, and beyond that the path into the school. 

Tomura hesitated when Oboro started walking again. 

“Hey, I know it’s a lot, but I promise it’s safe.” 

“I’m a villain.” Tomura said quietly. “This is a hero school.” 

“You are a child and were coerced. I can’t imagine any sane person labeling you a villain, Tomura. And even though I know All for One has tried to convince you otherwise, most heroes are decent people. They won’t hurt someone not actively trying to hurt them.” 

“That can’t be universally true.” Tomura said with a hard frown and, well, Oboro knew he wasn’t going to be able to talk the kid out of all of his learned convictions in a day. 

“Probably not, there’re assholes everywhere. But I’m pretty sure I can say the majority are not assholes.” 

Tomura wasn’t wholly convinced, but decided to trust him anyway, which made Oboro so fucking proud. The kid pinched Oboro’s sleeve as they walked, and he really wished they could just hold hands. He could actually get the kid a pair of gloves now that he thought about it, and that stupid villain wouldn’t chastise the kid for supposed lack of control–Tomura’s quirk control was great! Five point touch quirks were genuinely just hard. 

They made it to the doors and Oboro pulled them open gently, no alarm, they were expected. He glanced up to where the nearest security camera must be wondering if they should just head up to the Principal’s office when a small figure came around the bend. 

“Hello Shirakumo.” Principal Nedzu said, and for the first time since he was kidnapped, Oboro didn’t shudder at the sound of his name. “Glad you’re not dead.” 

Oboro couldn’t help but smile. “Me too.” For a moment the two just stared at each other, then Oboro shook his head and continued. “I’m sure you’re busy, but any chance you have some time to help us out?” 

He could feel Tomura stiffen as Nedzu’s gaze shifted to the kid but he stayed quiet, and Nedzu’s smile remained firmly fixed. 

“More than enough to hear this story. I’m rather looking forward to it, actually.” He replied, and led them up to his office. 

Oboro was a decent kid and hadn’t spent much time in the principal’s domain, so he wasn’t sure how much of it had changed and how much was poor memory. The structure was the same, the door opening up to Nedzu’s desk, surrounded by bookshelves, to the right a coffee table and low couches, the entire right wall made of windows looking out over the front of the school. 

Nedzu made his way to the back corner with a small kitchenette type counter, where he promptly set a kettle to boil and pulled out some tea cookies. “Please make yourself comfortable.” He gestured to the couches. 

Oboro let Tomura take the seat closer to the door, the teen stiff as a board, and Oboro couldn’t blame him for it. 

Nedzu had tea in all of their hands in a few quiet minutes. 

“Where do I start?” Oboro muttered, blowing on his teacup. He knew from Shou that Nedzu’s tea take was top tier and he was very excited to have a good drink he didn’t have to prepare himself. 

“After the building collapsed, perhaps?” Nedzu said, somewhere wryly and Oboro shook his head, not able to shake his small smile. 

“I don’t remember it. Not really. I woke up in a lab. Though woke up was a strong word. I was in and out of it for a while. Don’t remember a whole lot until he took my quirk.” 

Nedzu set his cut down with a sharp clack, fixing Oboro with a strong stare. 

Oboro grinned and shook his head. “Of course you know who All for One is. All Might’s currently fighting him, or at least he was as of, oh, four or so hours ago. That’s how we escaped, Number One’s a great distraction.” 

Nedzu steepled his paws. “I am glad for that, and sorry about your quirk, Shirakumo. Though, I am surprised you lived much time after the experience.” 

“Me too.” Oboro shrugged. “Got lucky.” He reached out and ruffled Tomura’s hair. 

Tomura ducked his head. “Sensei needed someone to look after me. I sort of. Hid in R-Oboro’s room and well.” He shrugged, very much avoiding eye contact.

Nedzu watched Tomura, not unkindly, but with that analytical gaze Oboro recognized. “Sensei?” 

Tomura cringed, and Oboro went to explain, but Tomura did it for himself. “All for One. He rescued me. After I killed my family when my quirk manifested. He–He was training me to be his successor.” 

Oboro was just going to be beaming with pride the whole day huh? He wrapped an arm around Tomura’s shoulders, offering support. To speak of what had happened to his family without egregious self-blame was miles ahead of where they were, even this morning.

“So I’ve been taking care of Tomura the last, what, eight years? Just shy right? Time’s been a little wonky for me. He’s a good kid,” He nudged Tomura playfully, and was grateful that eeked out a small smile. “I could go into more details, but honestly, my end of things was pretty boring. I was just stuck in the bar–do not ask me why the guy thought it was a good idea to set up a whole dive bar with an apartment above it to stick a kid in, never made a lick of sense to me. Besides taking my quirk, he didn’t do much to me.” 

Tomura blinked and glared at him. “You lost a year ‘Ro.” 

Oboro frowned and Nedzu asked for clarification. 

“He tried to use some sort of brainwashing quirk on me at one point. Wouldn’t stick for some reason, don’t know why, but I don’t have memories from that year, and my memory, sense of time and ability to be, well present, have been a little off since.” He admitted. “Though, dunno whether all of that is due to the quirk, could also be the more garden variety mental health issues that come with the situation.” 

Tomura’s frown was fixed firmly on his face, and he leaned into Oboro’s side, staring at his cup of tea. 

“And you, Tomura, is it? Could you tell me anything about what you experienced?” Nedzu asked, with a level of gentleness Oboro hadn’t expected, but was grateful for. 

Tomura shrugged again. “He trained me. How to use my quirk, how to fight without it. Taught me about quirks in general, and society, and everything I could ever need to know to help him destroy it.” He looked away again. “It wasn’t good, but it wasn’t bad. He helped me when no one else would. If I didn’t have Ro, I’d probably think he loved me, was raising me as his own. I didn’t… I didn’t even really want to leave until he told me I had to–” He cut himself off. 

“Want me to finish for you?” Oboro asked softly and the kid nodded. “All for One told him he had to kill me. I’m guessing as a sort of mark of growing up. And that wasn’t going to happen without a fight.” 

Tomura shivered slightly, their rooftop conversation still clearly in their minds. 

Nedzu nodded at this, taking a sip of his tea and reminding Oboro to try his. It was a good temperature now and utterly delicious. Floral, but sort of… buttery? Regardless, he happily savored the rest. 

“You should try yours,” He nudged Tomura, who didn’t really drink tea at the bar, but gamely tried it and seemed content enough to finish the cup. 

Oboro then turned to Nedzu. “I’m sure you can put together why I came here–besides not knowing where any of my friends or family might be at this point. I’m hoping it’s not too much to ask for your help in going from here.” 

Nedzu set down his cup. “Shirakumo, it is not too much. It is too little. I can only apologize for failing to confirm your death in that accident. Those on sight confirmed they found enough of you to presume death, but I did not look into it myself. That was an oversight I should not have allowed, and I am deeply sorry for the part I played in your suffering in these years. Both of you.” Nedzu stood and bowed far too low. 

Oboro waited for Nedzu to straighten before rolling his eyes. “Do me a favor, teach, and don’t blame yourself for no good reason. A villain like All for One is going to cover his tracks. You had no reason to think I was alive, and you didn’t hurt me, or Tomura, or anyone else who went through those labs. The kid likes to blame himself for stuff out of his control too, I need you to be a good influence.” 

Nedzu smiled. “I don’t often have that phrase ascribed to me, but I will do my best.” 

“People don’t think you’re a good influence?” Tomura muttered, confused. “But you run a school?” 

Oboro tried really hard not to laugh. “Nedzu’s in a league of his own, squirt, he could be running the world if he wanted to, so most people are happy to just let him have a school.” 

“Quite right!” And at Tomura’s concerned expression, Nedzu continued. “I would be a wholly benevolent dictator, that is a promise.” 

“It’s a running joke.” Oboro reassured. “Mostly. If anyone could out clever All for One it’s Nedzu.” 

Tomura nodded slowly, though didn’t seem convinced. 

Nedzu got them more tea and then eased back into the plush seat. “I can confirm All Might’s fight has concluded, as of about an hour ago.” He said evenly. “He appears to have defeated his nemesis, though is currently in the hospital.” He gave them both a minute to process, but Oboro was going to need a lot more than that. 

He was gone? He was really gone? Just like that? The number one hero was something else, but… it just seemed impossible. 

“Is he… dead?” Tomura asked slowly, Oboro offering a comforting squeeze. 

“It had been suggested they comb the remaining rubble to be certain but yes, we believe so.” Nedzu said carefully, letting the two of them put together that All for One was currently in pieces. 

Tomura looked very, very pale, but still he managed: “They’ll want to be thorough. He has really strong regeneration quirks.” 

“Noted.” Nedzu’s whiskers twitched. “Knowing that, where would you like to go from here? I will do everything in my power to make it happen.” 

Oboro took a breath, sorted his thoughts and started. “Do you know if my parents are still around?” 

Nedzu paused, and Oboro assumed the worst. “Your father passed a few years ago. I believe from heart complications.” 

Oboro bit his lip and looked up, trying to force his eyes not to water, the tears to retreat. His dad always worked too much, those kinds of things catch up to a person in the end. Oboro wasn’t surprised, just devastated. 

“Last I heard of your mother, she took a work contract in Korea, I can see that she’s contacted shortly.” 

Oboro couldn’t stop the tears this time. Not here, not within reach but still alive. Fuck. He wiped at his face, and Nedzu offered him a tissue.

“Thanks.” He managed, cleaning himself up. “I don’t… To be honest, I gave up on ever getting out of there years ago, so I don’t have much in the way of direction, but I can tell you what we need.

“We need to be sure, on-pain-of-death certain, that All for One is dead. I need some time to pull myself together, maybe get my head checked out, and figure out how to, jeez, rejoin society I guess.” He shook his head at the phrasing, but what alternative was there? “And we need to make sure whatever happens from here, Tomura stays with me. Preferably I want legal custody, but I’m not sure if that’s possible when I’m not… a fully functional adult I guess.” 

Nedzu nodded. “We’ll make it happen. I doubt anyone on site will rest until that villain is confirmed to be gone. Custody will take time, but that will also give you time to get on your feet. The second is the easiest. For the time being you can stay on campus, in the international dorms. Which I think, I’ll show you to now.” Nedzu stood up and Oboro made to follow. 

“Um.” Tomura’s hesitant interruption stopped them. “If you’re trying to do things uh, legally, do you need my name?” 

“Your surname would be helpful, yes.” 

“Oh I meant my birth name.” 

“Oh yeah.” Oboro remembered that first meeting. “It changed, didn't it? You almost said another name when we met.” 

Tomura nodded. “I… I don’t want that name back or anything. I’m Tomura now. But I was Shimura Tenko. There’s probably… who knows what the police decided about my family’s deaths, but knowing about me should solve that.” 

Nedzu nodded, brows slightly furrowed at the name, but he didn’t deign to explain why. “Do you need any accommodations for your quirk?” 

Tomura blinked at him, frowning again.

“I imagine your control is excellent.” Nedzu went on. “But if there’s anything we can provide to make it easier to handle, please ask.” 

“Can I…” He looked to Oboro. “I can have gloves?” 

Oboro tugged him into a side hug. “Kid, you can have the world on a string. I trust your control, but if you want to wear gloves, you can wear gloves.” 

Tomura smiled, and when Nedzu again suggested they get settled in the dorms and rest, they went. 

 

 

 

It took Tomura until they were getting ready for bed to break. 

Nedzu managed to throw together the bare essentials, they ate a takeout dinner and had ill-fitting pajamas and a change of clothes for the next day. 

Tomura fussed with the travel toothpaste and brush, and his annoyance seemed to loosen his lips. “I still can’t believe you were a hero student.” 

Oboro nodded and took the travel container from him, popping open the cheap and poorly made plastic case. “I was, though sometimes I barely remember it myself.” 

Tomura looked concerned. 

“Not because of any memory issues.” Oboro corrected. “Just because it was a long time ago. I’m not that kid any more.” 

“Do you wish you were?” 

Oboro thought about that, and his answer was different now than it would have been a week ago. “I don’t think so.” He decided. “I’m sure by this age I would’ve grown up into someone not entirely different than who I am now, but I have no desire to erase the last eight years. Would you?” 

Tomura considered this too. “No.” 

“Okay then. Sounds like those kids are gone, we get to figure things out from here.” 

“Is it awful that I didn’t want to leave?” He asked, staring in the bathroom mirror. 

“Leaving anywhere you’ve been that long, no matter the circumstances, is hard.” Oboro said honestly. “I wanted to leave, but I know I’m not going to handle being away from there very well for a while.” 

Tomura cocked his head. “What do you mean?” 

Oboro sighed. “I mean, when I was cleaning up dinner, I got annoyed at how small this apartment’s kitchen is, and missed the one at the bar. I’m feeling unsettled right now, because instead of being stuck with nothing to do, I have so much I should be doing that I’m feeling overwhelmed.” 

Tomura was quiet. “You don’t regret it though? You would have died, Sense–he would have killed you if I didn’t.” 

“I don’t regret it, no. And not just because of that, but because you came with me. You’re the important bit Tomura. If you had decided to stay, I wouldn’t have left either.” 

Tomura did not like that. “But you would’ve died!” 

“But I would’ve been able to take care of you until then.” Oboro shrugged. “Caring about someone… loving someone makes us do stupid things sometimes, but that’s just part of being human.” 

Tomura looked down at the sink. “I don’t think leaving was something stupid.” 

Oboro grinned. “How about dangerous or rash?” 

“Dangerous yeah, but not rash, that’s like… spontaneous, right? I was thinking about it for a little while.” Tomura admitted. 

“I’m glad,” Oboro replied softly. “Now brush your teeth, squirt, I tested both of these beds and they are decadently soft.” 

Too soft maybe, Oboro struggled to sleep. Around two in the morning he gave up and wandered out to the living room, the TV was modern, flatter than he remembered TVs being, but he was pretty sure he could still work a remote. 

Tomura peaked out of his room soon after to see Oboro staring at three different remotes on the coffee table and trying not to be mad about how confused he was. 

“Hey kiddo.” He said, patting the seat next to him. “Maybe the beds are too soft.” 

“Maybe.” Tomura agreed, sinking into the plush couch. “This isn’t much better.” 

Oboro chuckled, picking up the largest remote and hoping he was right when he pressed the power button. 

The TV brightened and Tomura leaned forward. “I wish the TV at the bar had worked like a normal one.” He commented as Oboro flicked through channels, eventually settling on a cooking show. No story, fairly mindless, and hey, Oboro wasn't going to complain about new food ideas. 

“Do you really think he’s dead?” Tomura whispered. 

Oboro couldn’t say for sure. “I don’t know. I do know Nedzu is going to be damn certain either way before he confirms.” 

“Okay.” Tomura stared at the TV. “I’m scared.” He admitted. 

“I’d be surprised if you weren’t. I’m scared too.” 

“I don’t know if I’m more scared he’s dead, or scared he’s alive.” 

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.” 

Tomura gave him a look. 

“Kid, he took you in. Regardless of all the messed up things that came after that. I have never judged you for caring about his opinion, for doing what he said, for just caring about him , even if I never considered him anything but a monster. I’m not going to change that now.” 

“Thanks.” Tomura murmured, leaning into him and closing his eyes. 

Oboro leaned back into the couch, getting comfortable. “No problem, kiddo, never a problem.” 

 

 

 

Aizawa was not unused to getting strange calls from his boss. Despite being one of the most junior faculty, Aizawa knew he was among the most trusted, an unfortunality he accredited to his years at UA spent as a personal student to the rat. 

This one did annoy him though. It was the break between school years and he and Hizashi got the first half of it off. It was practically the only time they could count on both being free, and they had a series of very important date nights followed by sleeping in planned. 

“What do you want?” He asked, not wanting to stretch this out, as he’d just heard Hizashi shut off the shower. 

“Hello Aizawa! I would like you and Yamada to come to UA tomorrow, any time! It will be worth your while.” The rat said, and Aizawa could hear his grin. 

Hizashi came out of the bathroom and frowned, pointing at the phone and mouthing “who?” 

“Nedzu.” Aizawa replied out loud. “It’s our week off, it’d better be worth it.”

“That is a promise! Oh, and if I remember correctly, you and Yamada were planning on moving to a larger apartment once your lease was up, yes?” 

This had Aizawa deeply confused. “Yeah. You’ll have the updated address as soon as we find a new place, why do you care?” 

“Just confirming, I will see you tomorrow.” Nedzu chirped. 

“It’ll be late,” Aizawa said quickly, “We’re sleeping in.” 

The rat did not reply. Aizawa wasn’t sure if he’d heard or not.

“Why does Nedzu want us?” Hizashi asked, wringing out his hair and distracting Aizawa with how low his towel sat on his hips. 

“Wouldn’t say. Bastard.” Aizawa muttered. “We’re not going before noon though. I am not losing good sleep to whatever this is.” 

Hizashi’s brow furrowed. “Shou, our dinner reservation’s at seven, we’ll be home in time to get a normal night’s sleep.” 

Aizawa gave his husband a look. “That’s not accounting for my other plans for the evening.” 

Hizashi, the love of his life and an absolute asshole, just laughed at him. 

 

 

 

The morning brought more takeout and a grocery delivery, as well as some slightly better fitting clothes and to Tomura’s near tear inducing happiness, gloves. The pants were a touch too short and the shirt too big, but Oboro was overjoyed to wear a t-shirt and sweatpants out and about after years of button downs and slacks. He could go the rest of his lift without wearing another button down, and thought he just might. 

Tomura did not know what to make of jeans, but Oboro had the pleasure of telling him that holes were fashionable so he wouldn’t have to worry about quirk accidents in these, and the kid lit up. 

“Hey Nedzu?” He’d asked quickly at the morning meet up. “Are my friends–Hizashi and Shouta–are they still around?” 

Nedzu smiled at him, it seemed a little knowing which made Oboro suspicious. “Around and local. I assumed you’d like to meet with them?” 

“Please, when you have the chance.” He wanted to ask more since it was clear Nedzu knew something but decided to wait. If they were local he might be able to see them in the next few days and he wanted to hear anything important about their lives from the source. 

“Consider it done.” Nedzu grinned. “Feel free to wander around campus today. Staff have been alerted to your presence so you have free reign. Just be at least as responsible around anything dangerous as you were as a student please.” 

Oboro laughed. “Don’t worry, we’ll probably stick to the grounds for today, yesterday was a lot. I’d say we might just stay inside but my need to touch grass is unyielding.” 

Nedzu chuckled as well before leaving them to it. 

Tomura was enjoying the noise of the TV and it was hard to get him outside. “Sunlight is healthy kiddo, and we’ve got a lot to catch up on.” 

The kid frowned at the TV. 

“We can definitely watch more tonight. It’s not going anywhere I promise.” Oboro reassured. “Why don’t you grab a book or something you can do outside? I’m gonna grab a blanket.” 

“Where are the books?” Tomura was looking around. 

“There’s a whole case in the communal area Nedzu showed us, downstairs, remember? There won’t be any students here right now, so don’t worry about bumping into someone.” 

Tomura was pretty sure he remembered the way and went to check it out. 

Oboro grabbed a school laptop Nedzu let him borrow and a big blanket. He had a lot to catch up on, but he was going to do it outside as much as possible. 

The pair spent a quiet morning on the lawn outside the dorm, Tomura found a couple of age-appropriate sci-fi books and comics, and was carefully paging through them. 

Oboro started by searching random questions he had stacked up about silly things over the years. If his favorite celebrity couple was still together, what was the top ten line-up, did his favorite clothing store still exist (it did, and he found several things in their online store he planned on buying when he had money). Once those ran out, he went to a reputable news source and looked through their archives at the weekly headlines for the last eight years, reading what he found interesting, occasionally going down a few rabbit holes. There was a new console system that blew up last year, he’d have to get one for Tomura at some point. A disastrous landslide in his mother’s hometown that took out most of it soon after he’d left. They were rebuilding but it made him sad a place his whole family had visited with some frequency was pretty much gone. At least his grandparents were dead so they didn’t have to worry about it. 

He popped inside to whip up a quick lunch and they ate on the blanket. Tomura questioned if that was sanitary and Oboro just laughed. 

“Maybe not always, but that’s part of the charm.” 

“If I eat a bug, I’m not speaking to you for at least a week.” 

“Noted and accepted.” 

Tomura’s book couldn’t hold his attention after lunch. “What’s that?” He asked, pointing to a nearby bush.” 

Oboro also saw something weird in the dirt beneath it and upon investigating turned up a softball. 

Tomura had some second hand knowledge of sports from books and video games but not much. “What’s a softball?” 

“It’s like a baseball but bigger. The sport is pretty much the same but mostly boys play baseball and girls play softball, don’t ask me why.” 

“Weird.” Tomura looked at the ball like he was studying a puzzle and Oboro grinned.

“Here, catch.” He threw it the short distance and Tomura caught it but quickly dropped it, thinking about his quirk, only to realize he could catch it.

The teen picked it up and threw it back, poorly but he was close enough Oboro managed to grab it. He took a step away and did it again until they were tossing the ball around like a couple of elementary schoolers in the park on a Sunday afternoon. 

“Doesn’t it get thrown the other way sometimes?” Tomura asked. “Like this.” He threw the ball overhand with way too much strength and it smacked an unsuspecting Oboro in the shoulder. 

“Ow.” Oboro rubbed the offended limb, but quickly smiled when he saw Tomura’s concerned expression. “I’m fine, squirt, however.” He picked up the ball, primed to throw it over hand. 

“This does mean payback.” 

Tomura yelped in a very thirteen-year old way and started running away, Oboro raced after him, laughing. He missed twice before Tomura yanked his glove off and bared his hand. “Try again and I’ll dust it.” 

Oboro dropped the ball and held his hands up, though he kept approaching. “Okay. I’ll stop trying to get you with the ball.” 

Narrowed eyes. 

“But I’m still gonna getcha!” 

It was the silliest, most pointless game of chase Oboro was certain he’d ever played, but yet, when he finally caught Tomura and started tickling him like the boy was six again, it was all worth it. 

Tomura stilled. “Ro?” 

Oboro stopped and looked up. 

There were two men standing in the field between the dorm and the nearest gym, Nedzu just visible behind them. Two men, one with dark hair, one blond, red eyes and green. Different posture, facial hair, barely recognizable to their teenage selves. But still recognizable. 

Oboro beamed, one hand still on Tomura’s shoulder. “Friends, kiddo, promise.” 

He heard a pained whine and realized, startled, that it came from Shou. 

“Oboro?” Hizashi’s voice wasn’t all that much deeper. 

“Hey guys.” Oboro scratched the back of his neck, a little awkwardly. “It’s been a while.” 

The next thing Oboro knew, his best friends had him completely encased in a hug and both were sobbing–even Shou! Aizawa Shouta! Crying!–he hugged them back, as overwhelmed with emotion, but too fucking happy to cry. 

Hizashi pulled back first and then took Oboro’s face in both hands. “You’re real, you’re actually real?” 

“Yeah, Zashi, I’m real. Promise.” He held the man’s hand as he continued to search his face, then looked him over like he was examining for injuries. 

Apart from the scar on his arm and the toll on his mind, Oboro was no worse for the wear from his captivity. 

Shouta finally pulled back as well. “I watched… I saw… you were dead Oboro, no one survives that.” 

Oboro shrugged. “I got both lucky and simultaneously very unlucky.” He offered and at the confused expressions. “I’ll explain, once we’re all calmed down. But there’s someone I want you to meet.” He turned around and held out his hand for Tomura who was watching with undisguised apprehension as Oboro returned to his side. 

“This is Tomura, my son.” 

Tomura flushed straight to his ears. “I mean, kind of.” 

Oboro shot him a look. 

“Hey, I’m not denying it! But it is ‘kind of’.” Tomura protested. 

“Is it because I used the word son instead of kid?” 

Tomura turned pink again. “Maybe.” 

Oboro ruffled his hair. “S’okay, we’ll work on it.” 

He looked back at his friends to find Hizashi on the verge of crying again. “Hi ‘lil listener, it’s nice to meet you!” He managed, though it came out croaky. 

“Is that the catchphrase you went with?” Oboro chuckled. 

“He has so many catchphrases.” Shouta said with much resignation, then to Tomura. “Aizawa Shouta, the loud blond is Yamada Hizashi. Feel free to use first names if you’re comfortable, any family of Oboro’s is family of ours.” 

Tomura looked very overwhelmed by the sentiment. “Um. Okay.” 

Oboro glanced over Shouta’s shoulder to see Nedzu nowhere in sight. “Of course he left without saying anything.” He rolled his eyes. “I’ll catch you guys up on everything, but can I ask about you first? I want to know everything.” 

The pair exchanged a look, and fuck, Oboro was relived they were both still close. He would’ve been devastated if losing him broke them apart. 

“Yeah, we can do that.” Hizashi said. 

 

 

 

When Hizashi and Shouta pulled out the wedding bands they wore on necklaces, Oboro stared blankly for exactly four seconds before pouncing on them. 

“This is amazing, oh my god, I can’t believe you got married! I’m so fucking happy.” That was the craziest thing he’d heard so far. Shou keeping Eraserhead as his hero name? Yup. Hizashi starting a radio show? Awesome, totally checked out. Both of them working at UA? He wouldn’t have predicted it but it made so much sense. Married? Absolutely amazing, what the hell? 

There was a glimmer of something almost negative in his stomach, recalling teenage him’s… attentions darting back and forth between his two best friends like a ping-pong ball for the entirety of his time at UA. But that didn’t matter in the long run, he had them back! And they were still in each other's lives and they wanted him back in their lives! That was the important part. 

“I regret saying yes every day.” Shouta sighed, to an eyeroll (from his husband!!).

“Don’t believe him. He proposed on our fourth anniversary, it was the sappiest thing ever.” Hizashi grinned, and Shouta didn’t even attempt to deny it, just moved on. 

They’d kept in touch with his parents until his dad died and mom moved away. He was glad to hear they’d also stayed together, though Shouta admitted it was dicey for a bit. Their families were well, their careers progressing neatly. They had two cats and regularly took in others as fosters. 

They kept away from the serious stuff. They didn’t ask Oboro where he’d been. They made sure to address Tomura too, tell him about things he wouldn’t know–including the first rooftop banana incident that Shouta had previously sworn would never be repeated! And when conversation slowed, the three of them showed Tomura around all their old haunts. 

They didn’t leave until after dark, and promised to be back tomorrow. 

Tomura approved. “Yamada is loud but nice, and I like Aizawa, he’s… straightforward.” 

Oboro didn’t think he would ever have a day this good again.

 

 

 

His friends visited everyday, not the slightest bit annoyed to spend their time at their place of work when they were supposed to be off. 

Just before classes started up again, Nedzu asked Oboro to come by his office alone, and after making sure Tomura was comfortably situated watching some gaming streamer on youtube, he meandered over. 

There was a specialist there, a neurologist and therapist whose quirk basically made her into a walking MRI–one that could detect quirks effects as well. 

Nedzu left them alone, which Oboro appreciated when they got to the more therapist-y part of his evaluation. Oboro wasn’t ashamed to admit he’d gone through some rough patches, and then issues with his head had made them worse, but better to talk about them with a professional. 

“Have any of these occurrences of ‘leaving’ as you called it, happened since you made it here?” The woman asked. 

Oboro made a so/so gesture. “I think there might’ve been one, but it was short, lasted like an hour after dinner two days ago and Tomura snapped me out of it by mentioning a movie I liked.” 

“And how about the depression symptoms? Any significant change?” 

“Oh night and day.” He said earnestly. “Though I doubt they’re gone completely–I know they’re not. I’m hoping adjusting back to normal life will sort it out though, everything lingering pops up when I get insecure about living off of my old teacher’s hospitality.” He said, jokingly but truthful. 

She went through all the data she gathered through her quirk scan. “I do think there’s some damage from the brainwashing quirk. I have a contact that works on removing lingering mental affectors, I’d like to set you up for an appointment with him if that’s agreeable.” 

“Sounds good to me.” 

“I also think you might want to consider starting therapy sooner rather than later. Or if you’d rather, doing a short course of an antidepressant until you’re feeling more stable.” 

Oboro frowned. It wasn’t that he was against therapy, or thought he didn’t need it-he definitely did and so did Tomura-but that was one of the many things he’d put in the after-I’m-on-my-feet category. It didn’t feel all that urgent since he was out of imminent danger. Starting meds also felt weird, kind of abrupt and silly to do without the therapy part. 

“I’ll consider it.” 

Her expression remained neutral though her eyes narrowed. 

“I’m not just saying that to pacify you, I’m taking the recommendation seriously, I do just want to think about it.” He said quickly and she smiled. 

“That works for me.” 

 

 

 

Nedzu was very, very busy the day before the start of term. Unfortunately, Sir Nighteye did not see this as justification to make an appointment for a later date. 

The man refused to sit, and did not want a cup of tea. He was far more frazzled than Nedzu thought the sidekick could be–which was still far more collected than an average man whose closest friend was still in critical condition a week after the injury. 

“Why are you looking into Shimura Nana?” Nighteye asked with no fanfare. 

If Nedzu hadn’t already gotten all the information he needed on the woman, he might be confused why Nighteye cared. “It is not your concern.” 

“It’s Toshinori’s concern, and he’s currently unable to address it, so I will. Why?” 

Nedzu sighed. “If you will sit and have a cup of tea, I will tell you. I am still deciding how–and if–this information should be conveyed to All Might and Gran Torino.” 

Nighteye–very reluctantly–sat down, and when tea was placed in his hands, he downed it before it cooled. 

“I assume you’re aware Shimura Nana had a son?” 

Nighteye put his cup down. “Yes.” 

Nedzu nodded. “I’ve recently had the pleasure of meeting his son, who is also the only surviving member of his family.” 

Nighteye turned positively green. Nedzu was glad he’d chosen a tea that helped soothe the stomach. 

 

 

 

The incoming first years noticed it last. They didn’t know what to expect, what was normal and abnormal in the country’s most prestigious hero school. But they heard it from the second and third years, who heard it from the two students between them who come from abroad and live in the dorms. That there was a college aged man and a pre-teen on campus, both with pale blue hair, who no one had seen before and were neither staff nor students. 

The internationals talked about catching glimpses of figures in their dorm in the corner of their eyes. Of finding a post-it on a book one was in the middle of ranting about how annoying a side character was. An antisocial gen ed kid spotted two people roughhousing at the edge of the woods when they took their lunch outside for some privacy. A support course student provided the clearest physical description so far when they were sent to Nedzu’s office for accidentally making an illegal bio weapon (it really was an accident! They thought the membrane of the fabric they were working with was tight enough to keep the chemicals separated, they hadn’t meant to gas out half the school!) and saw the older of the two curled up on Nedzu’s couch under a throw blanket like it was their living room. 

It was that last one that really solidified it. For all the students but the nervous first years especially. Before they were just a mystery, but sleeping in Nedzu’s presence? In his office? It was official. 

UA had new cryptids. 

 

 

 

“After much deliberation, we have concluded that All for One is dead.” Nedzu started their meeting with. 

Oboro glanced at Tomura, whose eyes were narrowed with skepticism, a feeling Oboro echoed. “If it needed to be deliberated, he’s probably not dead.” 

Nedzu made a placating gesture. “It was more arguments from the ‘not’ side that kept the investigation going than any measure of doubt. With the normal scope of healing a regeneration quirks, a person generally needs to keep a simple majority of their body functioning to be able to come back from it. Keeping the villain’s multitude of quirks and potential access to this Doctor you’ve told me about, I calculated potentially as low as twenty percent could be built back from, assuming at least part of that was brain matter.” He said all of this evenly, but he kept his eyes on Tomura. Oboro knew they both needed to hear this, needed to know the details to be sure, but the kid shouldn’t have to hear about something this brutal. 

Not that he hadn’t already been through worse.

“Based on that, from what was turned up at the scene, it is reasonable to conclude All for One is dead.” Nedzu finished. “Though this Doctor does still remain at large, we have a sizable force on the case and have already turned up two other bases. We’ll find him eventually.” 

They really did it. It was… over. Maybe not entirely, the Doctor could still certainly do some damage with his Nomu research but without All for One to supply the quirks… 

He felt Tomura shudder and clasped a hand on his shoulder.  

“I think it might take time to really believe that.” Oboro offered and Nedzu inclined his head. 

“You’ll have all the time you need.” Nedzu replied, and then pulled a file folder off the pile on his desk and pushed it over to him. “Moving forward, I’ve been able to quietly reinstate your identities–with an updated name for Tomura. Both incidents that led to your kidnappings have long left the public eye–though perhaps avoid shouting your existence from the rooftops if you’d like to avoid media attention.” The principal grinned at that, a touch feral but not ill meant. 

Oboro heard the suggestion to live a quiet life and he had no intention of doing anything loud. He was still… he was still figuring out the whole doing-things thing actually, but that would come with time. Once the specialist he was seeing finished untangling the damage to his mind and therapy sorted out the worst of the remaining issues. 

He flipped through the documents Nedzu pulled together, reissued birth certificates, ID cards and the like. 

“There is a single forged element.” Nedzu pointed out an official looking form Oboro didn’t recognize. “I’ve slipped in a relation between your father and Tomura’s mother to make you cousins. You have guardianship on account of being his last remaining family, and you’ll both have all the protections that allows.” 

Oboro stared. And Tomura stared. On Tomura’s ID card, on the paperwork here, his last name was listed as Shirakumo. 

“That work for you, squirt?” Oboro asked, throat dry. 

Tomura nodded. “Yeah.” He said softly. “Works for me.” 

The teen pulled out another set of documents from the folder, a civilian copy of a police report, Oboro noticed, it took a little longer to figure out what of.

“Quirk accident.” Tomura looked up at Nedzu. “I’m not… shouldn’t I be… I don’t know, culpable? That’s the word, right?” He looked to Oboro and then back, Oboro leaning over his shoulder to read it more carefully. 

It was the investigation of his family’s deaths. The case had been reopened and closed in the last week, cause of death indicated as Quirk Manifestation Accident, and nothing more about Tomura. 

“We’ve been over this.” Oboro said, gentle but firm. “It was an accident. You did not know what was going on. If you could have stopped it, you would. This kind of thing kid… it’s a tragedy. But it isn’t your fault. It has never been your fault.” He ran his fingers through Tomura’s hair. 

“Maybe now that that’s official on paper you’ll start believing it, yeah?” 

Tomura couldn’t seem to find words. 

“Shirakumo is correct. Quirk manifestations are sometimes dangerous, even deadly. Many parents will keep careful watch during those years, especially if either have a dangerous quirk, or theirs could be combined into something concerning.” Nedzu gently flipped the page of the report in Tomura’s hands. “Take a look at your relative’s quirks, do you see where the potential for yours comes from? At the very least, your parents should have supposed your quirk would wind up touch based, and with the potential mutations, most in that scenario would’ve made sure you had gloves from the toddler years until it manifested. You should have been told your quirk was coming, had plans set for what to do if something you touched reacted oddly. But it is very clear you did not.” 

Nedzu flipped the page again, to other police reports of domestic disputes and concerned neighbors calling for wellness checks on the Shimura family. “Unfortunately it appears your parents were neglectful to you and your sister, perhaps outright abusive though the evidence is not firm. You were in an unfortunate situation Tomura. Their deaths are not your fault.” 

Slowly. Slowly , Tomura nodded. He didn’t say anything else, but Oboro would take that nod . 

Nedzu gently took the police documents from Tomura’s hands and set them aside. “Last thing before I insist you both go rest for the afternoon.” 

Oboro liked the sound of a nap right now. A good cuddle on the couch with a game show on for noise. 

“You are likely not aware, but your grandmother–your father’s mother, was a very well respected hero in her day.” Nedzu informed Tomura, much to the shock of both of them. 

“A hero?” Tomura breathed. “That’s… then why…” 

“I won’t claim to follow All for One’s exact logic, though I can make fair suppositions.” Nedzu replied, though his mouth was a little too flat when he spoke. 

He knew why, Oboro thought, but decided to withhold. If they weren’t both already overwhelmed he might push, but it could wait. For now. 

“She has two surviving friends who were about as close as family.” Nedzu continued. “Both would like to meet you at some point if and when you are amenable!” 

Tomura looked to Oboro. 

“Doesn’t have to be anytime soon.” He reassured. “And if you don’t want to, no one will pressure you.” Oboro spared a glance and Nedzu, who nodded in agreement. 

“I’ll… think about it.” Tomura replied. 

“That’s all that can be asked.” Nedzu smiled, clasping his paws together. “Now off you go! I will be most displeased if I hear either of you are up and about before dinner time.” 

Oboro chuckled, and guided his kid home for a much needed nap.

 

 

 

Tomura had a lot on his mind. Too much really, too many thoughts of his own. It made him almost miss when the only thoughts in his head were put there by Sensei, no effort needed on his part. 

Almost. He couldn’t… he didn’t like those thoughts. Didn’t like what they’d begun to turn him into ( a killer, cruel ), even if so much of the villain’s teachings still made sense. 

His worldview turning on its head in a matter of weeks probably helped, actually. To be freely given assistance and protection by heroes? To see multiple heroes who cared about Oboro extend that care to him without hesitation despite what he’d done? It made it very clear that Sensei had lied. Or at least framed the truth in a deeply skewed way. 

His mind’s occupation in this direction distracted him as he wandered around the training grounds, and meant when the speakers around him chirped with the end of day bell, he was way too far from the dorms to make it back before the few students who also lived there. He sprinted the first stretch, thinking he might manage, but he was practically as far as he could get from that part of campus, so he gave up and slowed down. 

He could also just stay out longer. From his observations, the international students would usually wind down in the common area for a bit, eat dinner, then wander up to their separate rooms to do homework. He’d be clear to head through unnoticed in a few hours, two or three tops. 

But he’d miss normal dinner time, and Oboro would worry. Tomura pretended not to notice how uncomfortable his guardian– dad? –got when he was out of sight for too long. Especially when he didn’t say where he was going. 

(Tomura didn’t mind, if anything, it reassured him Oboro wasn’t going anywhere. Still, it was a little inconvenient at the moment.) 

That settled it then, he’d just have to walk through an occupied common room. That was fine. He could do that. He’d just… sprint right across the whole living area and past the kitchen to the stairs. Why couldn’t the stairs be closer to the door? 

He made it back to the dorm and hovered outside the door for several minutes until he heard voices coming from the direction of the main building. They were probably heading to the running path, but Tomura didn’t want to risk otherwise. 

He darted inside, and immediately made eye contact with one of the international students, who was sitting in front of the big TV in the common area, the other on the couch behind him. 

“Oh! Hi!” The student on the floor said, smiling, very widely and seemingly genuine. 

Weird. 

“...Hi.” Tomura managed, watching the pair for any further movements before slowly making his way toward the stairs. 

“Do you like video games?” The one on the couch asked. 

It took a moment for Tomura to register the words–their accent was pretty thick, but when he did he stopped and realized they were playing with the console attached to the TV. It was one Tomura hadn’t seen before and he’d avoided messing around with it for fear of screwing something up. 

“You could play with us, if you want. We were just going to switch to a racing game, but we could keep playing this shooter too.” Floor kid gestured to the screen. 

Tomura hesitated. On one hand, strangers, oh god get him away from them. On the other hand…

He really wanted to see how this console worked. 

“I like racing games.” He said. 

“Awesome!” Floor kid shuffled over to the box to switch out the games as Couch kid held out a third controller for Tomura. 

He almost took it but stopped and pulled his gloves out of his pocket. 

(He didn’t wear them all the time, he didn’t want to get lazy, didn’t want to lose control. But he also didn’t want to risk dusting someone else’s controller. That was just rude.) 

Tomura slipped his gloves on and took the controller, sitting in the chair to the side. Not the best angle of the TV, but a safe distance from the teenagers. 

“Have you played this before?” 

Tomura shook his head. 

“I’ll show you the controls! So start here…” Floor kid rambled until Tomura was pretty sure he understood, and Couch kid set up their first race. 

Cheerful, competitive music began to play and Floor kid reassured him he’d pick up the controls in a few rounds, that they’d go easy on him. 

Tomura raised an eyebrow. Well, if they were going to do something silly like that, he was just going to whip their asses. 

 

 

 

Oboro tried not to panic when Tomura didn’t make it back to their dorm in his usual time frame. He probably got distracted, took a nice nap on the grass or something, he’d wander back by dinner time…

Which was now upon them and still no Tomura. 

Oboro let out a long, slow breath. He was most certainly fine. Nothing bad could happen on campus. He’d just… go and look for him, just to be sure. That wasn’t… overbearing or anything right? Just checking in.

He eased down the stairs, pausing at voices in the common area. He hadn’t been… avoiding the students who lived here per-say, but Tomura was, and avoiding the questions his presence would bring was fine with Oboro. 

“No way. Absolutely no way you’ve never played this game before, you didn’t fall off the course once!” One of the international students–European sounding accent, Oboro thought–bemoaned to the giggles of one or two others. 

“It’s not like it was hard.” 

Now that voice he recognized. 

Oboro walked into the large open floor plan of the common area to see his kid and the two international students sprawled out in front of the TV playing video games, a small smirk on Tomura’s face, no clear discomfort or fear. 

He could cry of happiness. 

They were a little distracted, and Oboro took the opportunity to walk over, not hiding himself, but enjoying their interactions before they noticed him. 

Tomura did first. “Oh, hi ‘Ro.” 

“Hey squirt, looks like y’all are having fun.” He grinned, eyeing the screen and the small cartoon figures dancing around a podium. 

“Yeah.” Tomura agreed. “I’m winning.” 

“Not for long!” One of the kids protested. “That might’ve been the hardest track but there’s this other course where all of them are kind of tricky, I bet you can’t beat us at that.” 

“Oh you think so.” Tomura was fighting very hard not to smirk. He was not succeeding. 

Oboro didn’t try to hide the glee on his face. “Well I’m going to make dinner while the kids beats your asses, you two hungry?” 

The international students looked at each other, and then Tomura when his stomach growled, finally noticing the delay in their schedule. 

“That would be very nice if you don’t mind.” The other student said, looking at Oboro like he had other questions he wanted to ask. 

Oboro’s unmoving grin did not seem to encourage that. “Not a problem! I love an excuse to cook in a proper size kitchen.” 

“The apartment’s isn’t that small.” Tomura muttered, more than used to Oboro’s complaining by now. And he wasn’t wrong. Oboro was just used to an industrial kitchen and he sort of missed it. 

Not really, of course, but still. 

Oboro waved Tomura off and wandered into the kitchen, glad the half open wall left him able to hear the kids return to the game, as he worked. Tomura cackled at each victory, the one kid taking their losses in stride and the other getting increasingly exasperated as they went, though they still seemed in good humor. 

That one insisted on two rematches before Oboro finished and set out the meal. Tomura seemed a little less comfortable in this setting than playing video games, but the two kids kept trying until they found something they could all talk about. Tomura got a whole list of comic book recommendations and was practically vibrating in his seat to be excused to go start one. 

Oboro shooed him and exasperated kid–he should probably learn their names, huh–off to do just that, but the calmer kid insisted on helping with clean up. 

“It was my turn to cook tonight,” They said mildly. “Helping wash will make me feel better.” 

“Well then far be it to deny you.” Oboro smiled. 

About six dishes in, the kid spoke again. “Tomura’s welcome to play with us whenever.” 

“That’s nice, I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.” Oboro smiled. “Maybe you can even find a game he can’t beat you in.” 

The kid snorted lightly, then paused, gaining a thoughtful, sort of sly expression Oboro remembered seeing on Hizashi a lot at that age. When he was trying to be subtle. “Might take a while to manage that, think we’ll have the time?” 

A very good light probe, Oboro acknowledged internally. He almost wished he could give the kid some info to work with. But nah, more fun to mess with ‘em. 

“Only one way to find out.” He said with a wink, and didn’t budge for the rest of the interrogation/conversation. 

 

 

 

“We’re moving to a bigger place.” 

Oboro cocked his head at Shouta’s odd choice to break comfortable silence. Hizashi and Tomura were kicking a football around on an empty campus Sunday as the other two observed, sprawled out on the grass. 

“That’s nice, you got a point to make Shou?” Oboro tried to keep his focus on his kid, but his gaze sort of zoned out, tracking Hizashi too.

“We want you to move in with us.” Shouta said plainly. 

That got a full body turn. “Elaborate.” 

Shouta grunted to conceal a pout, but Oboro still caught it. “We want you and Tomura to move in with us in our new place. It’s big. Enough bedrooms. UA is safe, but if you want to get back to normal civilian life at some point, it’d be hard to do here.” 

Oboro took a moment to consider his words. “I don’t want to be a burden–no hush, let me finish. I know you wouldn’t think of it like that, I’m not doubting that you care about me, about us.” He jutted his chin toward Hizashi and Tomura who were paused, equidistant from the ball, apparently staring each other down rather than going for it. “But it’s not just money and space, it’d be emotionally taxing too. It’s the nightmares, and the panic attacks, and all the other trauma bullshit. I know you two well enough that I doubt you’d resent us for it but… I don’t know if that’s a weight I’m okay with putting on your shoulders.” Oboro scratched at the back of his neck. Maybe a little too hard, like Tomura used to when he overused his quirk, because Shouta grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away, holding on. 

“That makes us want to be there for you more . I want to share that weight. I couldn’t take a building for you. Let me take some of the aftermath.” 

Oboro rolled his eyes fondly. “Fine, but only if you promise to work on not blaming yourself, alright? You know I don’t.” 

Shouta’s expression darkened. 

“I don’t .” Oboro said firmly. “I don’t blame you. You shouldn’t blame yourself. Promise me Shou.” 

The grip on his wrist tightened, until Oboro rested his other hand over Shouta’s. 

“Sure.” His friend rasped. “I’ll try.” 

 

 

 

Oboro sort of expected it to be a hard sell, but Tomura just nodded when he brought up the offer. 

“We get to be normal people now, right? Normal people don’t live on high school campuses.” 

Oboro snorted. “Fair point.” 

“We can still come by sometimes though, right?” He asked, the first appearance of discomfort. 

“‘Course, squirt.” He ruffled Tomura’s hair. “We’ll find reasons to come around, and maybe once we’re all settled, your friends could come visit us too.” 

Tomura flushed slightly at the mention of friends, as if he hadn’t been spending time with the international students on the daily. 

“Friends are a good thing kiddo.” He pulled Tomura into a hug. “I know mine are.” 

 

 

 

The move in itself went incredibly smooth. They had begun to acquire Things, but not enough that packing was a hassle, and Hizashi took care of all the furniture (“Cohesion in interior design is important, ya dig?”). 

The space was nice, not incredibly modern but well maintained with an open layout in the common areas and uniform bedrooms. Oboro was delighted by the fancy bathtub, and Tomura got really excited when Shouta let him help set up the desktop computer in the corner of the living area. 

The problem came when the two heroes went back to work. Oboro woke up at the same time he always did, which was too late to catch Hizashi before his morning radio segment, and barely in time to wave Shouta off for UA. He stood in the kitchen as the door closed, Tomura still asleep and stared blankly at the entryway for what must have been several minutes before some instinct kicked in and he got cooking. 

Tomura seemed to have the same problem, stumbling blearily out to breakfast but once he was awake, he looked around with that same blank expression. While at UA their time was spent mainly resting, the remaining time split between various therapies and counselings. Medical appointments, and relearning how to socialize. Now though, off campus, appointments set to a weekly rather than daily schedule there was all that empty time Oboro had grown to hate. 

The kid voiced his thoughts. “What now?” 

Oboro blinked for a moment, logic kicking back in. They may not have a set structure to the day anymore, no clear responsibilities, but that didn’t mean there weren’t things to do. “You have your catch-up work, right?” 

Tomura grimaced but nodded. Oboro hadn’t managed to keep him quite up to pace with his reading and math but he wasn’t too far off, it was history and science that he lacked a real foundation in. At least, a real foundation in normal teaching. That doctor had taught him some sort of science and All for One conveyed his skewed take on history. 

“Why don’t you try and work on that until lunch and then after we’ll… go for a walk? Just get outside. Then maybe if you want to check out the games on the computer you could do that.” 

Tomura grinned at the last bit, taking the proposed plan in stride while Oboro cleaned up the kitchen. And then he tidied the living room. And then he finished unpacking and organizing his friend’s books. And then he wiped down the bathroom counter because Shouta shaved that morning and left a few stray hairs. 

“Lunch?” Tomura asked, presenting his progress to be checked. 

Oboro’s stomach agreed. He flipped through Tomura’s packets while the food cooked, discussed and explained what the kid missed as they ate. 

He thought exploring the area on their walk might be fun, but weirdly, it just made Oboro anxious. It wasn’t the busiest neighborhood but there were still people on the sidewalks and he couldn’t help focusing his attention on them. Darting glances between strangers he might never lay eyes on again. Strangers who could be anyone, who could do anything, absolute unknowns. 

Tomura tugged on his sleeve. “Can we go back?” 

They’d been out for all of fifteen minutes. Oboro didn’t hesitate to turn around. 

The kid settled at the computer as soon as they returned, happily hunting down the few games Shouta said were on there–Oboro couldn’t wrap his head around either of his friends playing video games, maybe these were basic pre-installed ones? Who knew–and going at it. Oboro made the beds, and ordered the shoes, and straightened the picture frames, then planned and started dinner. 

“We’re back!” Hizashi’s singsong voice called as they entered the apartment. 

“Good timing!” Oboro returned. “Food’s nearly done.”

“You cooked?” His friend's loud voice was much closer to his ear. “Aw, thank you!” 

“Shower first Zashi, no hair product at the dinner table.” Shouta huffed and Hizashi scrambled off to comply. 

Oboro raised an eyebrow at the interesting rule. 

“I swear you can taste it in the food.” Shouta said, entirely serious. 

Oboro wrinkled his nose. “Cannot have that.” 

The group meal was nice, his friends’ ramblings–and grunted complaints–about their days made Oboro feel more… normal, grounded, compared to the rest of the day. 

Everyone helped him clean up after, Shouta flicked water at Hizashi when he was too loud and the next thing he knew the whole kitchen was rather damp and they had more to clean up. 

Then Shouta got ready for his patrol, and Hizashi had Oboro pick from the long list of movies they had to catch up on and the remaining three sprawled across the living room. He chuckled at the nonsensical dramady and when it was time for bed, he made sure Tomura was squared away before taking care of himself, and settled onto his new, firm, but still comfortable mattress for a decent night’s sleep.

It wasn’t an awful first day, not by a long shot. It was a start, a step back to normal. 

But then it repeated. 

And repeated. 

And repeated. 

 

 

 

Oboro’s phone rang. It was new so it hadn’t done that before and he nearly jumped out of his skin. 

“...Hello?” He’d forgotten how to answer a phone call. 

“Good morning Shirakumo!” Nedzu’s chipper voice came through. “I wanted to let you know I was able to get in touch with your mother, she’s flying in tomorrow.” 

Oboro blinked once, twice. “Tomorrow?” 

“Indeed! Would you like me to send her your new address? I’d be happy for you to meet on campus if that would be more comfortable.” 

“Yeah, campus sounds good.” Oboro said, not entirely sure why. The apartment was perfectly nice, he didn’t feel any sort of shame about his situation right now, or at least he didn’t think so. 

“Of course, we’ll see you at about eleven then.” 

“Eleven, got it.” Oboro replied, still processing as Nedzu hung up and the screen went dark. 

He looked back at what he was doing, trying to fix the fussy toaster while talking Tomura through some basic Bio concepts. His brain couldn’t quite make the jump. 

“An appointment?” Tomura asked, his gaze carefully neutral, watching Oboro’s expression. 

He tried to shake off the weird feeling and smile, but he didn’t quite get there. “Sort of. Nedzu got a hold of my mother.” 

“Your mom.” Tomura repeated, half to himself. 

“I’m going to meet her at UA tomorrow.” Oboro surmised the conversation. “Do you want to come? You could see your friends at least, meet my mom once she’s had the time to process the whole me-being-alive thing?” 

Tomura gave him a look. “Of course I’m coming.”

Oboro hadn’t thought it was an ‘of course’, and felt an odd sting of gratitude. He wasn’t… nervous, was he? This was his mom. Just… eight years removed. 

Huh. Maybe he was nervous. 

 

 

 

Oboro dropped Tomura off at the library with his friends, the kid pulled by both arms over to a table with several other students. He worried for a brief moment, but despite some hesitation, Tomura didn’t seem opposed to the socialization. 

That was good, he needed it. 

Oboro shook his head and wandered in the direction of the meeting room. He was a few minutes early, and knowing airports his mom was probably delayed or held up at baggage claim. Definitely not going to beat him there, definitely not perched in a plush office chair, definitely not whipping around when she heard the door and meeting his gaze with eyes identical to his own. 

Well, stranger things had happened then a flight getting in early. 

“Hey, Mom.” He managed the two words before she launched out of her chair, soft hands and press-on nails cupping his face. 

“Oboro.” Her voice was wispy, like she thought being too loud would shatter the illusion. 

“Yeah, in the flesh.” He promised, covering one of her hands with his. He was taller than her now, a good several inches. He had to look down to meet her eyes, not much, but enough that it really hammered home the passage of time, even more so than the lines on her face, and the gray starting to spread into her dark blue hair. 

She sucked in a harsh breath. “I said I wasn’t going to cry.” 

Oboro couldn’t help a wet giggle. “I made no such promises, and I’m not gonna hold you to that.” 

“Of course you wouldn’t, my sweet boy.” She wrapped her arms around him and he let his head fall against her shoulder. Somehow she still smelled the same, like the wind before a rainstorm and he lost control of his tears. 

Nedzu might’ve been there initially, but he wasn’t a good ten minutes later when they finally untangled themselves and sat down. 

“You’re okay now, right? He said…” She started and stopped. 

“Physically yeah.” Oboro confirmed, then tapped his skull. “There were some issues up here that took a minute to get sorted, quirk effects. Now I’m just in normal therapy for the, y’know. Trauma.” 

She snorted, then wrinkled her nose and grabbed a tissue. “Is that going alright?” 

Oboro shrugged. “Well as it can be I think. Weird things keep popping up, feels like it might be a while before we have everything sorted.” 

“We? Nedzu mentioned you escaped with someone but he didn’t say much else.” 

Oboro smiled softly. “Probably wanted me to explain. I was kept alive to be a caretaker. For a kid. He’s fourteen now. We left together.” He wasn’t sure how to say it other than to just say it. “He’s mine. Nedzu handled all the paperwork. I know you’re kind of young for grandkids, but… you’ve got one. Hope you don’t mind.” 

Somehow her eyes looked watery again, when he was feeling really dried out. “Mind? Oboro, of course not. When do I get to meet him?” 

“He’s around today, hanging out with some friends right now. I’ll introduce you later.” 

“Good.” She sniffed and ah shit, she was crying again. “Sorry sweetie, I just–I couldn’t even call myself a parent anymore and now I’m a grandparent too? You’re spoiling me.” She tried to laugh but it came out wrong and Oboro moved to sit beside her, pulling his mom into a side hug the same way he did Tomura. 

“Hey, you were still a parent. Even if I’d died, that doesn’t change that you raised me. Loved me.” 

It took a few more minutes to calm down again before Oboro could ask questions. About his dad, about how she’d ended up in Korea. Bits and pieces about their extended family and old neighborhood. Eventually they wrapped back around to him. 

“You’re living with your old friends now? Shouta and Hizashi?” 

“Yeah. They said you went to their wedding? Now be honest, how was it? Shouta won’t say jack and Zashi just starts waxing poetic and I can’t tell what’s real.” 

“It was small, and sweet. They had a chair left empty for you.” 

Okay, maybe Oboro did have some tears left. “Course they did. Saps.” 

There was a moment of quiet. 

“Do you… what’s next for you, love? Are you going to stay in the area? I’m stuck in the contract for a few months still but I can move back after.” 

Oboro stilled, staring at the other end of the room. “I… shit.” He ran a hand down his face. “I really don’t know Ma. I’ve been… It’s hard enough going outside somedays I… I gotta figure it out, how to manage like a normal person and support Tomura but I can’t… every time I try to figure out where to start I just get so overwhelmed.” 

She squeezed his arm. “Which makes perfect sense. You missed eight years, Oboro, the time when you were supposed to slowly be transitioning into adulthood. Try and do that all at once and of course you’ll get overwhelmed.” 

Oboro glanced up at the ceiling and shook his head. “What does it say about where my head’s at that I didn’t think about it like that.” 

“It says you’re overwhelmed.” She nudged his shoulder. “So start small, at the beginning. Remember you said that the summer of your second year you wanted to work at the food stand at the local pool so you could get free snacks and go swimming after hours?” 

It was a faint memory, but he did remember that. He’d also wanted that job to try and convince Shouta to get some sunlight every now and again. He actually wasn’t sure if the man knew how to swim. 

“Start there, sweetie. Your first job, something simple. It’ll get you outside, socializing with coworkers, and a little money. Then move on to the next milestone.” 

“GED would probably come next right?” He thought out loud. 

“That makes sense to me.” She agreed. “And by the time you’ve finished both of those, I have a feeling you’ll know the next step from there.” 

He leaned his head on top of hers. “Thanks Mom, don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

She held his hand tight. “And you won’t have to find out for a long, long time.” 

 

 

 

His Mom greeted Tomura by asking for a hug, which Oboro was very proud of him for accepting, albeit stiffly. She asked the basic questions, what he liked (video games and reading), if his friends were nice (yes and annoying), if he would ever want to see Oboro’s baby pictures.

“Mom, no!” Oboro interrupted, recalling the specifically embarrassing album she’d kept in the cabinet under the TV. 

“Are you kidding? Yes.” Tomura replied, grinning at Oboro in a way most people would find terrifying, but most people didn’t have years of exposure from him and Shouta. 

His mom patted Tomura’s shoulder. “I’ll make sure to bring some with me next time.” 

Oboro groaned, but couldn’t keep the grin off his face. All of his favorite people officially got along. It was a good day. 

 

 

 

Oboro found a job at a cafe down the street from the apartment. They needed the early morning shift (four to ten) which fit well into the household schedule. He could get some real food into Shouta’s stomach before he passed out after patrol, and Tomura was actually awake by the time he was home and they could study together. 

It did not pay well. But Oboro came home with day-old pastries and discounted coffee grinds, and the schedule allowed him to keep up with his cleaning and cooking routine since he still couldn’t pay rent so he’s satisfied enough. Exhausted, but satisfied. 

“Glad to see you getting out and about.” Hizashi elbowed him during dinner one night after he’d managed to share his own work story for once. 

“Well, I couldn’t just be your housewife forever now could I?” Oboro elbowed him back. 

“Oh no! My darling, how I’ll miss you!” Hizashi said dramatically and smacked a kiss right on his cheek. Oboro shoved him back and rolled his eyes, even as his stomach clenched, thinking about how much he'd wanted that sort of contact from the man when they were in school. From Shouta too. How he still sort of did event though the pair were married. Oboro was a mess like that.  

He glanced over at his other friend to make sure Shouta didn’t take anything the wrong way and found a glimmer of something in his eyes. This was proven when Hizashi was sent to distract Tomura immediately after dinner so Shouta could talk with him while loading the dishwasher. 

“You know it’s not like that. We… you’re doing more than your fair share of the housework, we’re not blind, but we were letting you cause it seemed… like you needed it. But you’re working now, and I can tell your tired. I know tired. Ease back a little ‘Ro. We managed before, and we’ll manage now. Takeout and leftovers and dust in the corners aren’t going to hurt anyone.” 

Oboro blinked, clearly he’d been worried about the wrong thing. Or, well, maybe he didn’t need to worry about this. Maybe he could take the reassurance for what it was. 

“Okay.” He managed. “I’ll try.” Then he smiled and flicked some dirty dishwater at Shou.

“But I’m used to keeping a clean house so you better not slack, mister.” 

Shouta wiped his face with a huff and finished their task without retaliating. 

Until Oboro thought he was in the clear and had the sponge squeezed down his back. “Oh you’re so on.” 

 

 

 

He made friends with one of his coworkers. She was sweet as a button until a customer was unnecessarily rude and then she managed incredibly devastating yet still work appropriate comebacks. She was in college, studying to be a teacher. 

“I’m planning to work in middle schools so I have to be ready with the sass.” She said to Oboro’s slack jaw after the first one he witnessed. 

He thought she’d be a great teacher. And when she talked about some of her courses, he was genuinely interested. He’d liked taking care of and teaching Tomura… maybe he could be a teacher, or have a career in childcare?

 

 

 

Oboro picked a date for his GED test, and proceeded to stress out about it exceedingly. He burned rice–burned rice! The rice maker had a timer so it wouldn’t do that! Somehow he managed to change it from the default setting and burned rice for the first time in his life because he was stressing out flipping through flash cards on the parts of a cell. 

“Ro, are you okay?” Tomura asked, sliding the windows open to air out the kitchen. 

“Shit, squirt, I don’t know. It’s a pass/fail test, and I don’t think I’m going to fail, I just… I’m going to feel awful if I do, I guess and I’m dreading that.” 

Tomura raised an eyebrow. “You’re dreading something that probably won’t happen?” 

Oboro paused, then let out a breath. “Yes. It is as stupid as it sounds. Unfortunately, I can’t get it to stop.” 

Tomura laughed. “Maybe you need a distraction?” 

“I probably won’t fail, but I still have to study to make sure.” 

“Can’t you take an hour? Let me whoop your ass at Mario Kart?” 

Oboro shook his head. “Where are you learning all that bad language? Those no good friends of yours?” He teased. 

“All from you actually.” 

“Well rats.” Oboro smiled. “I guess I have to defend my parental superiority by attempting to best you in a children’s video game.” 

“Excuse you, it’s for all ages!” 

Tomura whooped his ass. But he did feel better. Tomura said something about one of his friends and Oboro had a thought, glancing at the calendar. 

“When did you last see those guys?” 

Tomura made a face then tried to hide it. “Uh, it’s been a few weeks.” 

“Hmm, we gotta get you back to UA soon. Want to ask when they get home?” 

He was doing his best to keep a neutral expression, Oboro just knew the kid too well and could tell something was making him anxious. “Maybe not today. We talk online, video game chat rooms and stuff.” 

Oboro kept looking at him but decided to let it lie for now. 

Hizashi had a rare afternoon/evening patrol, so it was just Shouta that came home after school, flopping face first onto the couch. 

“Tomura farted exactly where your head is earlier.” Oboro told him. 

“I did not!” Tomura squeaked indignantly from the computer. 

“Ugh.” Shouta’s sort of grunt was barely audible and he did not move. 

Oboro flicked through a magazine and then scrolled through his phone from his comfortable seat on the carpeted floor. He’d start dinner soon, but Tomura was right, he needed a little break, so he was going to take it and then make something simple. 

Six paragraphs deep in a post about emerging dog breeds, Oboro heard the computer mouse clatter and lifted his head in time to see Tomura shove himself to standing and stomp toward the long, floor to ceiling windows that lead to the apartment’s small balcony. 

“You alright kid?” Oboro asked cautiously, Shouta rolling over onto his back to get eyes on the situation as well. 

“Fine.” He snapped. 

“Doesn’t sound like it.” Oboro replied. “Do you want to talk or do you want some quiet time?” 

Tomura turned back toward the two of them and crossed his arms, silent for a solid ten seconds before speaking. “I’m not a good person.” 

“Debatable, but what makes you say that?” 

“I–I’m mean, and rude, to my friends, and strangers online. Constantly. And sometimes they think it’s funny, and sometimes they get upset and… and I don’t know where the line is! I don’t know how to be anything other than mean, and angry! And once they figure that out, that I’m not saying mean stuff to be funny, I’m just mean, they won’t want to be friends with me!” The words tumbled out along with a few emphatic gestures. “I was trained to be an awful person. It’s–It’s ingrained, it’s not going anywhere and I hate it!” 

“You’re not an awful person kiddo. You were raised in a fucked up environment, and you’re having trouble learning normal social boundaries. That’s to be expected. I know it’s rough, but it’s just going to take time.” Oboro’d had not dissimilar conversations to this with Tomura before. It was something he knew the kid’s therapist was working on too. 

“But what if I never get it?” He flopped onto the armchair behind Oboro with a huff. 

“You will.” It was Shouta who replied, surprising both of them. “You’ll train yourself to be decent. And whatever else you want to be. Point is.” He brushed his hair out of his face, getting his fingers stuck in the tangles. 

“Assholes don’t worry about being assholes. Those kids you befriended aren’t stupid, they get that you’re learning, they get that you care. You’ll figure out how to show that the way you want to, and they’ll help.” 

Tomura blinked at him, several times. “Oh. Well. Okay.” 

“Mmm. Now it’s nap time.” He waved a hand at the two of them and used the other to pull a pillow over his face. 

Tomura smiled at the man’s silliness, which then turned into a scheming grin. “Oboro farted into that pillow earlier.” 

“I did not!” Oboro had to defend his honor. 

Shouta groaned. “I live with a bunch of children.” 

“Nah, just the one.” Oboro said, tugging Tomura’s pant leg. “Who’s about to find out if he’s still ticklish!” He pounced and Tomura screeched. 

Shouta did not get his nap. 

 

 

 

Tomura started going to UA a day or two a week to study there. Nedzu didn’t mind. Tomura was slowly wrapping the faulty around his skinny teenaged fingers. And he got to regularly see his friends. 

Oboro was very proud of him. 

His own studying proceeded easily enough, though he continued to stress both about the potential failing and what came after. He’d confided in his work friend, who was delighted to help him study and brainstorm during the brief lulls in the morning rush. 

“Most daycares don’t need degrees, just some courses anyone can take.” She showed him a job listing on her phone, and a local community center that hosted some of the classes for a small fee.

He stole her phone until their manager told them off, adding up the numbers and time requirements and the better (if still not fantastic) hourly rates different daycares offered. These kids were younger than Tomura was at the beginning, but that didn’t turn him off the thought. The cost of the classes totaled less than two weeks of wages as well so also doable. 

Oboro went home that day with a quiet spring in his step, his leg bounced beneath the kitchen table as he made note of dates in a newly purchased planner. He called his mom for a bit to talk about it and she encouraged him. He’d found his next step with plenty of time. He felt… content. 

Hizashi and Shouta came back without Tomura, sending a spike of anxiety radiating down Oboro’s spine. 

“He’s fine, his friends were astounded he’d never been to a movie theater and insisted on taking him!” Hizashi reassured. “Couldn’t tell you what they're seeing, but Shou extracted a promise it would be age appropriate!” 

“And no UA student would dare disobey?” Oboro teased, successfully calmed. 

Shouta rolled his eyes, but did stick most of his face into his capture scarf so Oboro counted that as a blush. 

Hizashi suggested they take the opportunity to watch a not-teen-appropriate movie and Oboro agreed easily enough, setting aside his notes within eyesite of Shouta. 

He raised a dark eyebrow, opening the floor for Oboro to cheerfully convey today’s conclusions. He’d rambled a little longer than expected when he caught a look exchanged between his closest friends that set him on guard.

“...What?” 

Hizashi sidled up next to him on the couch, Shouta perching on the opposite arm. 

“We’re happy for you Oboro, first off, it’s really nice to see you excited about something.” Hizashi started, nudging his shoulder with a fond smile. 

“I am sensing a but.” Oboro replied warily. 

“Less a but, more of a check in about something we probably should’ve discussed earlier.” Shouta offered. 

“We just want to make sure you know, Oboro, that if you still wanted to be a hero, you could.” Hizashi finished simply. 

Oboro looked back and forth between the two. “I don’t have a quirk.” 

“So?” Shouta shrugged. “My quirk only gets rid of others and doesn’t work on mutant types. Limelight heroics might not be achievable, but you could go underground. Between my connections and Nedzu’s we could find you an apprenticeship without hassle.” 

“If that’s something you wanted!” Hizashi continued quickly. “And it’s okay if it’s not. We just want to make sure you know you have the option.” He took Oboro’s hand in both of his and squeezed lightly. 

“I…” Fuck, Oboro hadn’t even thought about it. He hadn’t… he’d assumed that dream was over the second that bastard took his quirk, but Shouta wasn’t wrong. A quirk wasn’t everything, Oboro didn’t see any reason a quirkless person couldn’t be a hero, with real dedication and some solid support equipment. Shouta was functionally quirkless in half his fights and he was a brilliant hero. “I hadn’t even considered it ‘cause–Fuck.” 

Oboro scrubbed a hand down his face, pushing back the stinging in his eyes. He hadn’t considered it because: “That’s not the kind hero I wanted to be. I guess I… dismissed the dream as irrelevant after my quirk was gone but–I... It died. It did. Looking back I think it was after that lost year, I just… I gave up . On saving Tomura or myself, and a hero… a hero can’t give up.” He tilted his head up, looking for more words. 

His friends gave him the time to find them. 

“I don’t… I don’t want it. Even if I thought I was still capable I don’t think that’s the right path for me now. There’s already so much damage I’m trying to fix, if I kept adding to the trauma with hero work, I don’t think I’d ever find stability again.” He huffed. “I’m not fit to save others when I couldn’t even save myself.” 

“You saved Tomura.” Hizashi said quietly. 

“We got out of there together–” 

“And you raised a good kid , in a situation that could’ve created a monster.” Shouta said forcefully. “You gave that child hope and love and regardless of anything else, you are that kid’s hero and no one will hear otherwise.” 

Oboro chuckled, the sound wet as tears finally pushed past his eyes. “Okay.” He rasped, then cleared his throat. “I still want to help people. I still want to be that solid presence, with a silly joke that makes someone smile through a rough day. But I’m gonna do that another way. And right now, it’ll be by keeping little snots safe and happy when their parents can’t be there. And we’ll see where things go.” 

Shouta’s hands reached out to rest at the back of Oboro’s neck, his fingers gnarled from too many hard punches and broken knuckles. “That sounds great ‘Ro.” 

Hizashi snuggled closer and leaned his head on Oboro’s shoulder. “We’re really proud of you.” 

Oboro coughed to hide a worse sound. “It means a lot, you know. That you both think I still could.” 

“You could do anything you set your mind to.” Shouta said, like it was the simplest truth in the world. 

“And with the three of us together? If you think there’s anything we couldn’t do, I’d be inclined to disagree.” Hizashi chuckled into his collar. 

A full body shudder passed through Oboro as he leaned into his friends’ embrace. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll believe that.” 

 

 

 

Oboro passed his GED. By such a wide margin it’s a little funny he was worried. They went out to dinner to celebrate, and Oboro managed to forget they were in public for a bit, laughing hard enough to skew his eyes shut and not immediately succumb to paranoia. The mark of progress was nearly as gratifying as the certificate he hung up on his wall. 

Tomura was very close to caught up on his education. Enough so that he should be able to start high school the next year with his age group. Oboro sat with his kid at the computer and looked up all the nearby schools, focusing mostly on the generic academic ones, though he made sure Tomua knew trade school was a valid option, and he could definitely try for a specialty school if something struck his interest. Oboro lingered on a tech school with a focus on computer science and programming, with the thought that Tomura’s thriving game obsession would see him happy there. 

Tomura looked thoughtful after the initial search, and continued to get that sort of far away look every so often for the next few weeks. 

One day after one of Oboro’s first aid courses, Tomura pulled him to the kitchen table and sat them across from each other, artist-gloved hands pressed flat to the table, bracing. 

Oboro gave him some time to collect himself before the teen started, a little disjointed, but clear enough. 

“I need a general education course. I don’t know enough about the real world to know what I want from it so I need to keep my options open.” He started, chewing on the space between his words. “I want… in the short term, I want to understand the things that still confuse me. Society’s fascination with heroics. Morality and ethics. Further than that, someday… I want to help people. I want there to be less kids like me. No kids like me, preferably. Or be able to help those who are.” He trailed off, reaching up to scratch but catching himself and pressing his hands flat again. 

Oboro fought to keep his expression neutral. He could beam with pride when his son was done. 

“I want to apply to UA’s Gen Ed course. I… I’ll pick backups ‘cause I know it’s hard to get into but… I think I can get what I need and what I want that way.” He shrugged, losing steam now that he’d made his point. “...and already knowing people there will help too. I think.” 

Oboro reached his hands across the table to cover Tomura’s. “I think it’s a great idea. And I’m very proud of you.” 

Tomura blinked, his eyes getting shiny before he ducked his head for a few moments, coming back up with a grin. “Think we can get Zashi to proof-read my essay?” 

Oboro snickered. “I think he’d thank you for getting him off admissions duty for conflict of interest.” 

“A win-win. Would Shouta want to get in on it too?” 

“I think he’d be offended if you didn’t at least ask.” 

Tomura huffed a contented sigh. “That I can do.” 

 

 

 

Oboro wound up in a course covering the basics of early childhood development and child psych. He was glued to the edge of his seat the entire time, staying after to ask questions and getting a whole list of further reading he promptly dived into. He only had one more class before getting his certification, but he looked for more offerings, eventually winding up on the Psych department page of a local college. He looked at the numbers. College wasn’t a realistic expense, not right now, probably not until Tomura was grown and gaining his own independence. 

But maybe someday. 

 

 

 

The sidewalk looked strange. Oboro frowned at it, walking home from his latest shift. He was applying to new jobs with his shiny new certificate, but it would probably be a few weeks before he found something. Things were going well. Tomura’s UA application had been submitted, his studying for the entrance exam in full swing. Their household had a comfortable if chaotic schedule and Oboro was slowly getting better about the little things like leaving dishes in the sink and unfolded blankets on the couch. 

So why did he hesitate outside the apartment door? Was something wrong? He unlocked the door and did a thorough sweep of the place, Tomura eyeing him from his spot on the couch working through a book. 

“You okay Ro?” 

Oboro couldn’t shake his frown, and popped his head out onto the balcony real quick before answering the questions. “I dunno kiddo. Something… feels off.” 

Tomura studied him for a moment before absently looking around himself. “Nothing’s weird here. I think I’d know, I’ve been up since they left.” 

Oboro fidgeted with his hands, then checked his phone, then finally sat, perched on the edge of the armchair. 

“Are you… having a bad day? It’s been a bit.” Tomura suggested and Oboro grimaced. 

He didn’t have ‘bad days’ like he used to in the bar, not since they’d fixed whatever'd been done to his mind. But he’d still had days here and there where depression overwhelmed or anxiety and paranoia made it hard to function normally, those were the new bad days, and Tomura was right, he hadn’t had one in a couple weeks now. 

He thought it over, could be a paranoia day, with how he’d felt compelled to scope out the apartment, but there wasn’t that lingering fear that usually came with it. More of a restlessness maybe?

“I don’t think so.” He concluded. 

Tomura shrugged. “If you say so. You want to take a nap or call your therapist anyway?” 

Oboro wrinkled his nose at the first bit. “Eh, might be worth a check in but a nap sounds awful right now. I feel like I’ve got to do something, I–” He blinked into the middle distance for a few moments as that last sentence sunk in and it clicked. 

“I’m a fucking idiot.” 

Tomura snorted. “You said it, not me.” 

“When I was a kid I was restless a lot, always had to be going somewhere, doing something, be around someone.” He explained. “I’m experiencing the urge to go do something outside of basic life tasks and it nearly sent me into a damn spiral.” 

Tomura did him the courtesy of keeping his laughter quiet. “Okay then. What do you want to do?” 

Oboro had to think about it for a few minutes, but it came to him along with a small smile. “When you go to the arcade with your friends you go to the one on X street right? Well there’s another a bit further that we always used to go to ‘cause it was quieter and Shou would put up with it.” He said fondly. 

“Is it still open?” 

Some frantic internet searching proved it was. 

“Want to come with me? Try some games your old man might actually be able to beat you in?” Oboro asked teasingly. “Unless I’m interrupting your study schedule.” 

Tomura chucked his book to the other side of the couch. “Unlike you, I’m perfectly happy to take breaks.” 

Oboro laughed. “Thought so.” 

They took the train a few stops, from there Oboro’s feet were on auto pilot. 

It was a smaller place, family run. The paint job wasn’t as fresh as the last time Oboro had been here, but it’d definitely had another coat at some point. He stepped inside and the smell brought him back a decade to the first time he’d found this place. Scouting out the area in the months leading up to the entrance exam with his middle school friends–most of whom he hadn’t spoken to since he got his acceptance letter and they didn’t. He’d insisted they stop in here, but the others had gotten bored almost immediately with the mostly older games and he’d reluctantly left. 

The two of them blocked the doorway for a moment, taking it in. 

Tomura nodded appreciatively. “Classics. Nice.” His tone was slightly teasing. 

Oboro rolled his eyes. “These were classics when I was your age. Maybe when my Mom was your age.”

Tomura shrugged. “I’m still going to win.” 

“Oh you’re on.”

Oboro may have spent about a quarter of his last paycheck on tokens immediately but he didn’t care. They had an entire arcade to play through! Tomura got annoyed every time Oboro managed to win, but would usually come out on top in their rematches, once he had a grasp on controls. 

“Hey, with four people we can have a proper air hockey tournament!” A familiar voice startled Oboro. 

Hizashi and Shouta were there, the former grinning at him. They were in civilian clothes but had clearly come straight from work, the blond’s heavily product-ed hair forced into a bun. 

Oboro had trouble moving his mouth for several moments. 

“I texted them when we left.” Tomura explained. “Figured they’d show up, and I wanted more people to beat.” 

Shouta’s eyes flashed red. “Oh it’s on.” 

Tomura answered a question he’d had for sure, but that didn’t settle the thought that had Oboro speechless. Hizashi dragged them over to the air hockey table but let Shouta and Tomura play the first match. It was different then how they used to do it-whoever sat out playing winner. 

But it was still them. The three of them, with the happy addition of his kid who had his full hand wrapped around the mallet without thought or hesitation. 

His eyes stung with pressure from the emotion rising in his chest. 

“You okay Oboro?” 

He grinned, wrapping an arm around the blond’s shoulders and then leaning into his side. 

“I’m fantastic.” 

 

 

 

When they turned in their tickets at the end of the night, Oboro noticed a stuffed elephant nestled in a pile of toys. He was quick to trade for it, and present it to Tomura who protested vehemently that he was too old for stuffed animals. He still took it, and if Oboro heard his kid muttering about whether to call him Stormy or Storm Jr. he just smiled and kept his mouth shut. 

 

 

 

Oboro messaged his friend from the coffee shop on the train ride home, asking if she’d want to grab lunch or go see a movie some time after he got a new job. She replied with an eyeroll emoji and a yes-I-want-to-be-friends-with-you-outside of work too, dummy. 

Walking home from the station–the sidewalk was just a sidewalk.

 

 

 

Tomura was the last one to react to his acceptance letter. 

Hizashi tossed confetti in the air–dork–and Shouta offered a fond smile and a congrats. Oboro grabbed his kid around the waist and squeezed until it seemed to sink in. 

“I got in?”

“You got in!” 

“Huh.” Tomura stared blankly at the table for a few more seconds and then, slowly, his eyes brightened and his mouth split open. “I got in!” 

Hizashi threw more confetti and Shouta told him off without much heat to it. 

“Proud of you squirt.” Oboro leaned down and kissed Tomura’s temple. 

His son didn’t pull away from it, just kept smiling.

 

 

 

Tomura’s UA friends came over for a party, along with a few of the faculty and Oboro’s mom, now relocated back in Musutafu, not even three train stops away. The students had various reactions to their friend’s (and teachers’) strange household, but a single look from Shouta ensured discretion. 

At one point, Oboro noticed Nedzu having a quiet conversation with his son, the latter’s expression turning nervous and pensive for several minutes until a friend dragged him away. 

Oboro asked about it later. 

“Remember um… those friends of my Grandmother? Apparently they asked about meeting me again.” Tomura words were slightly mumbled. 

Oboro did remember, after a few moments anyway. “Do you want to meet them?” 

“I think so? I guess it’d be nice to have some sort of connection to my bio family, even if I don’t remember much. Or anything good.” 

“Then go for it, squirt.” He gave Tomura’s shoulder a squeeze. “Let me know if you want company.” 

Tomura looked incredulous. “Of course you’re coming with me.” 

Oboro pulled him into a quick side hug. “Of course I am.” 

 

 

 

Nedzu kindly volunteered another UA meeting room. They got there a little early, Tomura was pacing around the apartment and Oboro had hoped the journey over would burn off some of that energy but no such luck. 

Oboro ran through reassurances over and over again, not minding repeating himself, but wishing the kid had gained enough confidence to believe Oboro the first half dozen times. 

Nedzu escorted their guests in. The two men were about as different as people could be. One was middle aged, tall and somewhat sickly looking. He sat down immediately, strands of blond hair half covering/half framing his face, tired eyes not quite embracing the even smile on his face.

The other was a short old man with a firm scowl, one that deepened as the taller sank into his chair, tutting lightly before turning his attention to Tomura. Though it was still the other who spoke first, once he was settled. 

“My name is Yagi Toshinori,” he said, and Oboro frowned for a brief moment. His voice sounded almost familiar.

“Your Grandmother was my mentor. A true hero and a treasure to her friends.” His tone was slightly wistful as he reached out a hand. “I am very pleased to meet you, young man, and very glad you are safe and well.” Tomura hesitated for only a moment before taking the hand in a brief shake. 

“Shirakumo Tomura.” He managed. “Uh, nice to meet you too, I guess.” 

“Gran Torino.” The short one said. “I might be retired but no one ever calls me anything else.” 

Tomura frowned slightly, but shrugged. “Sure.” 

“Gran Torino.” Oboro muttered, mostly to himself, but the others heard so he continued his thoughts, louder. “You taught here a while back, right? Just for a couple of years?” 

“That I did. Had to finish training this idiot after Nana went and got herself killed.” 

Tomura inhaled sharply and Oboro frowned at the older man. Age only got a person so much leniency. 

“Maybe that’s not the direction you want to take this conversation?” Yagi suggested, seeming nervous to contradict Gran. 

The old man huffed. “No it’s not, sorry kid. Just a lot of frustration I’m not handling very well.” 

At least he could admit it. 

“Frustration?” Tomura asked for elaboration and with a sigh, the man obliged. 

“Nana got scared at the end, put her son into foster care after her husband was killed rather than leaving him with one of us. She thought severing the connection between them would keep him safe. Keep whatever life he built, his family safe. But it didn’t.” 

Tomura looked like he didn’t want to ask but couldn’t help himself. “Safe from what?” 

It was Yagi’s turn to sigh. “I’d hoped we might simply get to know each other before digging into it, but I suppose there’s no sense in putting it off. Mine and Gran’s hero status and relation to your family mean we have access to most of the information related to your case. Not all the details–” He continued quickly, glancing at Oboro. “But enough to reasonably draw the conclusion that you were targeted because of who your grandmother was. She fought against All for One, as her mentor did before her, and his before him.” 

Oboro’s eyes narrowed slightly as he took the words in. That… seemed like a big deal. He found it strange he’d never heard about it in all of his aspiring hero/fanboy internet dives.

“So what? He wanted to make me a villain to get back at my dead grandmother? That doesn’t make much sense.” Tomura's lips were halfway to a scowl but he seemed to be trying to hold it back. 

“I… imagine he would likely have used this revelation against your grandmother’s successor, to throw him off in a fight and gain an advantage. Blunt and brutal and cruel, but likely effective.” 

Tomura scratched his neck. “I know I was just a pawn to him but… that’s decades of work, for just one moment? That’s just…” He scratched again and Oboro reached out to gently pull his arm down before he could hurt himself. 

“You’re worth more than that kiddo, more than that bastard ever could’ve known.” He rubbed Tomura’s arm until the teenager steadied a bit. 

“Apologies, we didn’t get the chance to ask your name.” Yagi addressed him as Tomura regained composure. 

“Shirakumo Oboro.” He said with a fleeting smile.

“My dad.” Tomura said immediately, something warm and fuzzy wrapping around Oboro’s heart at the words. 

Gran seemed cynical. “You’re a little young for it.”

Oboro shrugged. “The age gap is more like siblings, yeah, but the dynamic works for us so we’re sticking with it.” 

Yagi chuckled. “I’m very glad you were there for each other.” He said, tired eyes warm with earnesty. Oboro’s caution melted a little. He decided he liked this guy. At least for now. 

Tomura clearly had more questions about his grandmother and All for One but pushed those aside for the time being. Oboro knew they’d get there eventually, but no one was going anywhere, they would keep.

They got to the getting-to-know-you bit. Yagi talking fondly of his time in America, Gran revealing a seemingly out of character love for cheap sweets. Tomura talked about video games, his UA friends, and the apartment they shared. 

“You’re all settled then? Safe, comfortable?” Gran’s tone continued to be gruff, but his words betrayed his care. 

“Yeah. Shouta and Zashi are cool. Ro is Ro. I’m good.” Tomura said, a bit unevenly, leaning his shoulder against Oboro’s for a moment. 

“Hmm.” Was the old man’s acknowledgement, which had Oboro frowning at him again. 

Yagi steered the conversation back again, mentioning he’s been off hero work for several months due to a major injury and adjusting to chronic illness but he did plan to go back to it soon. Both Tomura and Oboro raised eyebrows at that, the man’s condition was still obviously poor, but he laughed it off. 

“My quirk is partially a transformation, I’ll be alright in that form, I just have to cut my active hours down a bit.” He said, though still not mentioning a hero name. At least Oboro knew now why he didn’t recognize him besides the voice, there were a couple big heroes that worked primarily in different forms. He could reverse engineer who this guy was by looking into which of them were taking some time off if the man continued to avoid sharing. 

When time ran low, Gran started talking again, passing along contact info and insisting Tomura contact him if he needed anything, clearly overwhelming the kid. 

Yagi put a gentle hand on the old man’s shoulders. “What Gran means to say, is that we’d like to be a part of your life, in whatever way you’ll have us. Perhaps we might talk again in the near future? Maybe over lunch?” 

They made plans for the next week and as soon as they were gone, Tomura collapsed into Oboro’s lap. “That was a lot.” 

“Yeah, but you did great kiddo. You do want to meet them again, right? If you were just saying that to be polite, I’ll get you out of it.” 

Tomura shook his head. “No. I want to know more about her. And them. It’ll be good, I think. Do you?” 

Oboro pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I think the more people rooting for my kid, the merrier.” 

 

 

 

Yagi managed to keep his hero identity a secret for all of a month before he slipped up and came clean. Oboro buried his face in his hands for several minutes to breathe through the hero worship and remember that–All Might or not–Yagi was a fucking dork who had next to no life outside of his career. As human as anyone else. 

 

 

 

Tomura stormed down the hallway and up the stairs, the anger he was radiating clearing even upperclassmen out of his path on his way to Nedzu’s office. Two weeks, two weeks! That’s all the time he’d gotten to settle into UA before more evidence of the hero system’s incompetence was forced in front of his face. He was supposed to be here for the opposite reason! To gain more faith in the system, not less! He had half a mind to put in a transfer application tonight! 

The doors swung open of their own accord as he approached–fucking obnoxious–and once he’d entered the principal’s office, he had to take several deep breaths before he could speak. 

Nedzu waited patiently, which Tomura almost found more infuriating but he swallowed it. Nedzu was always good about giving him space, about not pushing. He steadied himself, and slumped into a chair. 

“You know Yui? In 1-B this year?” He started. 

Nedzu nodded. “I have a basic familiarity with all the students, what about her?” 

“Her mom’s a low level HPSC employee, some sort of secretary I think. Someone higher up found out about Yui’s quirk, and basically fucking blackmailed her into applying for the hero course. She has to go here, report back information, and take a contract with them when she graduates or her mom gets fired and framed for something so she won’t get hired anywhere else. They’re a single income family.” 

Nedzu frowned, turning around to pull a folder out of a filing cabinet and flipping through. “I see the mother’s position and the household situation but I did not have this flagged for concern. How did you learn of it?” 

“We sit at the same lunch table, we’re friends I guess, she was having trouble getting along with the people in her class.” Tomura shrugged, adrenaline fading and a headache beginning to set in. “Me and one of my new 1-C friends were swapping trauma and she joined in.”

“Do I need to be concerned about this gen-ed friend of yours?” 

“Nah, his stuff’s in the past, like mine.” Tomura said quickly. “You can do something, right?” 

“I most certainly can, and I will.” Nedzu was scribbling down a few notes and then flipped through a contact book. “I will be making some calls. Are there any other students you have concerns about?” 

Tomura let himself relax. Nedzu would take care of it. Just like the Principal had taken care of him and Oboro. There were issues with the hero system, the HPSC, but Nedzu wouldn’t let those issues poison his school. 

Though, Tomura did have to wonder, where did that influence end? Nedzu was only one being, even if he was Nedzu . The principal always seemed so all knowing, but Tomura knew he wasn’t. He’d missed what happened to Oboro after all. 

He realized belatedly he’d been asked a question and answered quickly. “Nothing confirmed. There’s a girl in my class who might have some home life issues, though, and that guy in 1-A, who’s super aggressive? The way he snaps doesn’t seem like just hero course cockiness, so I’d flag him too.” Tomura didn’t really think about his words until after he’d said them. That made him backtrack. “I mean, I think anyway, just sort of–gut instinct, you know?” 

Nedzu’s whiskers twitched, his eyes fixed on Tomura’s for several seconds before he nodded, turning again to his notes. 

“If you’d like to go sit in the teacher’s lounge to calm down for the rest of your lunch, please feel free to. You are dismissed.” Nedzu’s phrasing was curt but not impolite, and Tomura took the out, fidgeting with his hands and resisting the urge to scratch. 

He felt kind of weird, getting that sort of angry. Frustration or general upset turning to anger was more his experience. He’d never felt quite so… righteous, maybe?

No actually, that was a lie. Once, the day before he turned eleven, when Oboro accidentally revealed he didn’t remember the entire last year. He’d felt angry at Sensei the villain. This felt like that. But the villain in this scenario wasn’t labeled as such, it was the organization that did the labeling. 

Tomura had the odd thought that he was on the verge of something. Like hunting down the last piece of a puzzle that fell under the couch and was hiding between dust bunnies, just out of reach.

He ducked into the teacher’s lounge and found a seat on the floor next to a napping Shouta. The man stirred briefly, gave Tomura a look and an opening to say something, but went back to sleep when he stayed quiet. 

Tomura supposed he didn’t have to have all the pieces just yet. It was only the second week of school. He had plenty of time to learn. That’s why he was here. 

 

 

 

Oboro frowned at his phone. Nedzu’s call was brief and vague, but Oboro knew it had something to do with the story Tomura brought home. The kid was quiet after telling it, and continued to be pensive. Oboro wasn’t sure what to think, but Tomura was getting better about coming to them when he needed something, asking for help. When the kid figured out whatever was bothering him, he’d say something, Oboro felt pretty confident about that. 

What he wasn’t confident about, was what Nedzu could want to discuss with him. Was the principal worried about Tomura? Was there more to the story the kid hadn’t shared? 

“Everything okay?” Hizashi’s concern wrapped around him, his friend's hand on his shoulder. 

“Yeah, should be anyway. Good thing I’m on the afternoon shift tomorrow.” Oboro couldn’t imagine Nedzu ever scheduling a meeting that conflicted with the other party’s obligations but he still appreciated the effort. There was a bug going around the daycare and finding coverage would’ve been tricky. 

“Speaking of your job. You gotta take those jelly pouches in soon, Shou had two of them instead of lunch today.” He said the last bit loud enough for Shouta to hear from the other room. 

“You should.” Shouta replied, stepping through the kitchen doorway. “I got the orange kind for you, added vitamin C.” 

“Then why were you eating them?” Hizashi protested. 

Shouta shrugged, expression flat but Oboro knew he was grinning internally. “Ran out of my usual.” 

Oboro shook his head as his friends continued to bicker, leaning into Hizashi’s side to prevent the man from getting too worked up.

Whatever Nedzu wanted would be fine. 

 

 

 

Tomura pretended to be embarrassed when Oboro came with him to school the next morning, but he really wasn’t. Oboro could tell by the way he casually introduced him as ‘Dad’. How he rolled his eyes when Oboro shot finger guns at a snarky first year, but didn’t pull away from the hair ruffling. Oboro was more than happy to play the cool parent, parting from the teenagers with a mock salute. 

The smile was still firmly on his face when he entered Nedzu’s office. The principal’s manners were light and casual today: he was handed a cup of tea directly, and they sat around the low coffee table rather than Nedzu’s desk making small talk. 

“So what’s this about, teach?” Oboro asked, finishing off his cup. 

“Two things.” Nedzu replied. “First, I’d like your permission to take Tomura on as a personal student.” 

Oboro blinked, then frowned. “You usually take hero course kids for that.” 

“Yes, but the occasional other finds themself in my office.” Nedzu agreed. “Tomura would not be the first from Gen Ed whom I’ve taught.” 

Oboro set his cup down and thought for a moment. “I’m not fundamentally opposed, but why? What’re you hoping to accomplish with him?” 

Nedzu put aside his own drink and steepled his paws. “Something akin to what I accomplished with another Gen Ed student several years ago, and not dissimilar to Aizawa’s experience. He has the eye for people in need that comes with trauma, and an earnest and surprisingly open personality that comes from your love and makes him an easy confidant to his peers. He has been done harm, and done harm, but still approaches the world with a cautious optimism that things might be good , might be better. Like myself, Aizawa, and many of my other students, he is an idealist. I would like to nurture that, show him the progress and potential, and teach him to realize it, as the best of us try to do every day.”

Oboro shook his head. “Very wholesome of you Nedzu, keep that up and you’ll lose your reputation.” 

The principal grinned. “Some of my methods might make a hardened vigilante blush but we both know if I was half as maniacal as the public thinks I am, I would have taken over Japan by now. Perhaps the world!” 

“Yeah.” Oboro agreed. He wouldn’t have when he started UA, but Nedzu gained Oboro’s trust when the principal managed to earn Shouta’s. “Some might say we’d be better off if you did.” 

“I’ll try not to let that go to my head!” 

Oboro chuckled softly. “You do that.” He muttered, then at volume. “It’s alright with me under a few conditions.” 

“Of course, proceed.” 

“Obviously this only happens if Tomura wants to, give him details and time to make an informed decision. My main thing is, learning from you individually might draw some parallels to his experience learning from All for One–I don’t think you need me to elaborate why. Don’t make him feel singled out, or put too much weight on his shoulders, make sure he knows your goals are a shared effort. I’m going to let his therapist know and we’ll both keep an eye on him, the second this does anything damaging it stops. And for the love of all things, don’t start until next semester, the kid’s never done normal school and I know UA is barely normal but let him have a few months.” 

Nedzu nodded along, fur bristling at the mention of All for One, but his expression was thoughtful through the rest. “I can agree to that.” He poured them both another cup of tea, and Oboro was half way through before remembering there was a second thing. 

“Was there something else?” 

“A proposition for you.” Nedzu leaned forward in his seat. “You’re familiar with Inui’s role here?” 

It took Oboro half a second to switch tracks, but he nodded. He’d met Hound Dog for check-ins his first few weeks away from the bar until he’d settled in with his current therapist. He was a good sort, steady as the student counsellor, but blunt and snarky enough to keep up with the kids. “Sure, what about him?” 

“He’s expressed interest in taking the next hero homeroom that becomes available. A request I approve of.” Nedzu continued and Oboro could honestly say he had no idea where this was going. “I am also aware of your interest in child psychology.” 

Oboro blinked, thinking about the library book on his nightstand, the college classes still open in a tab on his computer. He tried to think about who he’d mentioned that to, but besides his friend from the coffee shop, Oboro was fairly certain no one knew it was more than a casual interest. “Do I want to know how you found out about that?” 

“I suspect not, though I am happy to share!” 

“Whatever, get to your point.” Oboro said, more exasperated than actually annoyed. 

“I am particular about my staff, and keeping those I value close at hand. I would like you to take up the position when it vacates.” 

It clicked before Nedzu finished his sentence and Oboro shook his head. “No, Nedzu, you have already helped me so much, beyond any sort of obligation, I don’t need any more handouts.” 

“It isn’t a handout! It’s a job offer to a candidate I am confident will be a good fit for the role.” 

“A good–Sir, I’m not in any way qualified for a position like this. I want to get a relevant degree, but that takes time–”

“Time which you have! One of the homeroom teachers will need to retire for Inui to take the post, the next one I expect will be in three or four years.” 

Jeez the rat was insistent. “Still, it’s going to take time for me to save up for it–” He caught the look on Nedzu’s face and continued speaking over him. “Which I’m not going to take charity for, it’s unnecessary. I’ll get there, it’s just going to take a while. I’m perfectly content with that.” 

The look didn’t budge as Nedzu stood, walking to his desk and back with a small stack of paper. “I anticipated you would feel that way, though I would happily fund your education if allowed. You may not be aware that there exist quite a few educational grants and scholarships for those whose schooling has been interrupted by villainy or miscellaneous hardships.” The principal set the papers in front of him before hopping back up to his seat. 

Oboro paused his protest to flip through the pages, and shit, some of these were full tuition. One even came with a living stipend. 

“I won’t even help you with the applications.” Nedzu continued, smug. “Though I will insist I be put down as a reference for those that ask.” 

Oboro looked up, incredulous. He’d poked at income based and merit scholarships, but never would’ve thought to look for something like this. “You are something else. But I guess you already know that.” 

“I most certainly do!” Nedzu clasped his hands. “So what do you think?” 

Oboro sighed and rubbed his face, but neither could remove the smile. “I think I’ve got some homework to do.”

Nedzu cackled, then stood to show Oboro out. 

He paused at the door. “Any chance after this I can get you to stop thinking you owe me?” Oboro tried to convey both gratitude and insistence in the words. 

Nedzu’s smile turned sad. “Perhaps after you graduate.” 

Oboro huffed, then held out a hand. “I’m holding you to that.” 

Nedzu shook it with a sigh of his own. “I am glad you are here, Shirakumo.” 

Oboro felt his eyes sting, pure sentimentality was still an odd thing from the quasi-cryptid. “Thanks. Me too.” 

 

 

 

He was still sitting on the couch, shuffling through half filled forms when Shouta and Hizashi came home. Tomura was with a friend for the evening, and Oboro figured he ought to get going on the applications while he was alone. He meant to clean up before they got back, start dinner, but he kept getting distracted by the words on the page, checking and double checking they were real. 

“Whatcha got there?” Hizashi flopped onto the couch beside him, throwing an arm over Oboro’s shoulder. 

“Scholarship applications.” Oboro handed one over, then explained the morning’s events in a still somewhat disbelieving tone.

Shouta perched next to him on the arm of the couch at some point. Taking a few papers and nodding along. 

“This is amazing.” Hizashi said quietly, referring to one of the grants. “This is something you want?” 

Oboro paused for a moment. He hadn’t thought that in as many words because it seemed so obvious, but he took the time to do so. Thinking on what working as a counsellor, what working at UA would look like. And he did want it. “Desperately.” He looked at Hizashi with bright eyes and his friend grinned back. 

“Then we’re happy for you.” Hizashi said, bringing up his other hand, wiping something on Oboro’s cheek with his thumb. Then Hizashi leaned in and kissed his cheek, but not quite, more the corner of his mouth, just a little too intimate for friends. 

Oboro jerked away but was caught by Shouta’s hand on the back of his neck. He looked up to apologize and caught Shouta’s expression. So disgustingly soft and fond and exactly how Oboro knew he looked at the couple when he thought they wouldn’t notice. 

“We’ve always been a trio.” Shouta said, low and steady. 

Hizashi’s hand dropped to Oboro’s, squeezing it lightly. “We want to try, the three of us, if that’s something you’d want.” 

Oboro had to laugh, incredulous. He grabbed Shouta’s arm with his free hand and held tight. This was real, they were real. 

“Yeah.” He said faintly. “I want this.” 

Shouta leaned down, pressing the lower half of his face into Oboro’s hair, Hizashi curling into his side. 

“I want this.” 

 

 

 

There’s a collage of photos on the living room bookshelf. They show Oboro in his college graduation gown, a wide, crooked smile splitting his face. There are two of him and Tomura, one where he’s messing up the teen’s hair, and another where Tomura is retaliating, knocking the cap off of Oboro’s head. There are several nice ones, all of them standing with smiles–even Shouta! A sweet one with his mom where she's grinning through tears. 

And then there’s the big one in the middle. The three men in the center, Tomura and Oboro’s mom on either side, the teenager looking so smug and the woman still crying. Shouta and Hizashi frame Oboro, necklaces pulled out, offering Oboro a matching ring and chain. Oboro is looking up at the camera like he’s the happiest man in the world. 

He just might be.

 

Notes:

Things I have arbitrarily decided about this AU:

AFO did actually die, All Might killed him. The Doctor and some Nomu survived though, and will be a problem around when the canon plot gets going. By which point Tomura will be in college for social work and Oboro a couple years deep in his job at UA. There's still some sort of threat for the canon main cast to deal with and the dorms are still established. Class 1-A isn't sure what to make of thruple's dynamic or their school counselor's son, who sometimes TAs Aizawa's classes when he doesn't have his own.

Tomura takes one look at Todoroki and goes to Oboro: "Dibs" "What?" "I'm adopting him" "Tomura you're 20 you can't adopt a 16 year old" "I don't care I'm adopting him" "If you feel that strongly about it *I'll* adopt him" "No fair, I called dibs!" (No one actually adopts Todoroki, they sort out his home life and his mom gets custody, but Tomura still gets Big Brother status and he and Natsuo become friends 'cause they happen to go to the same school).

And that's that!

If you're reading this, thanks for making it to the end! I hope you had a good time, and maybe I'll see y'all on other fics I post in the future!

:)

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of Oboro Becomes a Teenage Dad