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How a superhero learns to fly (every day, every hour, turn the pain into power)

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Midoriya Hisashi and Inko are a lovely couple. They have a picture perfect marriage, good jobs and a love for the storybooks. Mitsuki constantly teases her friend about the Midoriya’s ‘puppy love’, and Inko just blushes and waves her off. “Oi! When are you two going to get busy and have some kids? My little Katsuki could use a best friend~!” Mitsuki jokes, patting her swollen stomach.

“Suki!” Inko scolds, face a bright red amidst her green locks. “Don’t joke like that!”

Mitsuki ignores the greenette and throws her head back laughing. “Aw, come on! Think about it! Hisashi would love to have a little troublemaker running around.”

“Yes, but he would be a terrible father,” Inko replies with a straight face.

Mitsuki cocks an eyebrow. “How so?”

“The man would spoil our child rotten.”

“But at least he’ll love them.”

Inko snorts, sipping on her tea. “I suppose.” “Speaking of Hisashi, where is he?”

A frown pulls at Inko’s lips and she looks to the clock-Mitsuki’s not wrong. Hisashi should’ve been home an hour ago. “I don’t know...maybe he was held up at work?”

Several phone calls later, Hisashi has yet to pick the phone. Worry begins to gnaw at Inko’s heart. “I don’t know what’s wrong, Mitsuki. H-he always calls if he’s going to be late.”

“Hey, hey,” Mitsuki soothes. “He probably just forgot to charge his phone. Hisashi’s been pretty scatterbrained lately, huh?” She laughs at her own statement in an attempt to ease Inko’s nerves.

Shaky laughter slides from Inko’s lips, but she smiles. “I suppose you’re right.”

“You know I always am,” Mitsuki teases. “All that worrying is going to make you an old lady.” She brings the tips of her fingers to either side of her nose and traces ‘wrinkles’ across her skin. “Old Lady Inko, they’ll say.”

This time, Inko explodes with laughter and the two friends shift back into casual conversation and playful banter. Inko’s phone rings and Mitsuki beams proudly. “See? I bet that’s him right now!”

Inko rolls her eyes at the blonde woman across from her and answers the phone. “Hello?”

The small smile falls from her lips and she listens to the person on the other end in silence.

The lighthearted air about the two friends dies. By the end of the call, Inko’s still and bleary eyed. “Thank you,” she says stiffly and hangs up.

Mitsuki tries to think of how to break the screaming silence between the pair. “Inko-”

“That was the police,” Inko interrupts, drained and numb. “Hisashi was killed in a hit and run.”

Midoriya Hisashi’s funeral is a quiet affair. Not many people attend, but not many people are invited. Inko only wants their closest friends at his actual funeral, so the Bakugous are there, along with Hisashi’s old college buddies and some of his co-workers that he hangs out with outside of work.

Used to hang out with , Inko corrects herself, bitterly.

She feels Mitsuki place her hand on her shoulder and pull her close into a tight hug. “It’ll be alright.”

When the funeral service is over, Mitsuki tries to invite Inko over, but Inko politely declines. She unlocks the door to her apartment, and is greeted with the dim, depressing emptiness of it. A few steps in takes her to Hisashi’s mess on the coffee table. Inhaling shakily, she moves it to the side and sits on the sofa. The apartment never felt so lonely. Finally, all the emotions she’s been holding in for the past two weeks catches up with her and she breaks down sobbing.

For the first time in a long time, Midoriya Inko feels truly alone.

“Midoriya-san, I-I don’t suggest going in there. The boy has been through a very stressful situation, and he’s v-very volatile-Ma’am! Wait!” Inko ignores the social worker’s frantic calls and opens the door.

A tiny, lean figure darts to the corner of the room farthest from the door and closest to the window. The boy is young with large green eyes and tanned skin spattered with freckles. He’s constantly shifting and twitching, like he’s preparing for her to strike.

Inko makes sure to keep her distance. “Hey there. My name is Midoriya Inko. What’s your’s?” As expected, he doesn’t answer.

The social worker’s boss walks in and sighs, waving the frantic woman off. “I am Fujiko Ike. I apologize for Hamada-san’s behaviour, but this is one of our special cases.” She flips a few papers up on her clipboard. “His name is Miyata Isamu. He’s been on quite the journey to get here.”

“What happened?”

Fujiko sighs. “Have you heard of Santuario City?” “Oh, yes, the one in the Americas?” Fujiko nods with hints of disdain pulling her lips downward. “He came from….there. Originally, we thought he had family over here, but it turned out to be an error on file, so now, he’s here.”

Inko’s heart goes out to the boy in the corner. He hasn’t moved since she entered the room, and his eyes are still held wide open with terror. She sighs sadly and shakes her head before she sits down where she is. “So, Miyata-kun, what’s your favourite colour?”

With a slight smile, Fujiko turns on her heel and shuts the door behind her with a click.

It takes several months before Isamu warms up to her, but when he does, he bubbles and chatters like a little bird. Inko learns about Hiroshi, the other boy Isamu came over with, who has been adopted by his aunt in Musutafu. The way that Isamu speaks of the other boy kind and with a love normally found between brothers. Isamu reminds Inko so much of Hisashi in unexpected ways. Both had this loveable, somewhat dorky cheer and a friendliness that extended to all, even if Isamu’s is, understandably, more restrained. Isamu finds a place in her heart and makes his home there, and before she knows it, Inko’s signing his adoption papers.

The first time Inko takes Isamu home, he’s wary to enter the house and lingers by the door for a bit. With learned patience, Inko leads him inside and shows him around.

She carries him with his tiny arms looped around her neck. He’s small for eleven, but doesn’t object to being carried by his new mother, however childish it may seem.

“And this-” She shifts him and opens his door. “Is going to be your room!”

Isamu tugs on her shirt and Inko puts him down. He stares at the relatively empty room. “I know it’s not much right now, but you can decorate it as you like.”

Isamu grabs Inko’s hand and smiles at her. “Heroes.”

Inko chuckles and ruffles the young boy’s dark hair. “Yes. As many heroes as your want. And maybe some pretty colors.”

“Maybe….red? Blue…..” He begins muttering to himself.

Inko turns to leave, but Isamu reaches out and catches her hand. “Midoriya-san?”

Inko chuckles. “I told you to call me Inko, Isamu.”

“C-can I dye my hair?”

This causes Inko to raise her eyebrow. “What colour?”

With a lock of his wild, curly hair in hand, he beams at her. “Green.”