All Might and UA Student missing after attack in America… Yagi Toshinori and Midoriya Izuku were last seen in at a heroics function in Los Angeles… the villain, Corruption, attacked the function killing…
It was raining.
It was raining and it was driving Toshinori insane. Not because he hated rain, but because it was slowly lulling his aching mind to sleep. The sweet rhythm of the rain made his mind dull and his eyelids heavy, but he couldn’t stop now. It was only a few miles to the next truck stop, and he needed to get there before he fell asleep at the wheel. The money they needed was in the magazine box after all. After that, he could take a few hours and sleep until they needed to get moving again. He couldn’t stop, they’d get him and his boy if they stopped for too long.
He drove over the crest of the hill; a sigh of relief left his lips as he saw the lights at the bottom of the hill. He risked a glance over at his passenger. His boy was fast asleep, curled up with his feet on the seat and a cheap throw wrapped around his body. He sighed again.
‘I wish I hadn’t dragged you into this my boy, but I couldn’t have asked for anyone better to make this awful trip with me’ He thought, taking a hand off of the wheel to scratch his chin.
He pulled into the truck stop, pulling into an empty spot near the back of the lot. It was desolate with only a few trucks littering the outskirts of the stop. He let the old van run for a moment after parking it and rested his head on the steering wheel. Calloused hands came up from the wheel and dug into his hair. He tugged at the roots of his hair as he listened to the pitter-patter of the rain. He waited and listened, as the world seemed to slow, and time had no meaning no more.
Moving his hand to the ignition, he killed the van, the silence drilling into him after hours upon hours of driving the shabby old van. He grabbed a rain jacket and a heavy toboggan off of the floor and pulled them both on. He slipped out the door of the van, closing it gently as not to wake up his boy. He locked the doors and trudged off in search of the magazine box.
“Why of all things, did they have to store the money in a lewd magazine box?!” Toshinori huffed under his breath, opening the box and shoving his hand inside to grab at the money hidden inside. He stuffed the money into his jacket’s pocket and slogged his way over to the vending machines.
‘It’s not the healthiest option, but we’re low on snacks.’ He thought as he pulled out a handful of dollars to get a few chocolate bars and other snacks. ‘At least young Midoriya likes them well enough.’ The harsh buzz of the fluorescent light bulbs mixed with the sweet drum of the rain slowly lulled him into a false sense of peace as he fed dollars into a vending machine, stuffing his prizes back into the large pockets of his jacket and pants.
He made his way back to the van and slid inside. He sat the money on the dashboard and dug the snacks from his pockets depositing them into a small basket on the floor. Afterwards, he peeled off the jacket and the hat from his person and tossed them to the floor. Inside the envelope was a few thousand dollars, more than enough to last them a while before they had to ask for more money. Toshinori was about to stuff the money back into the envelope before a little slip of paper fell out of the cash. He picked it up, unfolded the little slip of paper, and began to read.
I know it has been a while since you last heard from me, but I am trying my hardest to locate and stop Corruption from getting to you and Midoriya. I’ll admit the American heroes and police force are tougher to work because I’m all the way over in Japan, but I’m trying my hardest to help find information. I miss you; 1-A misses you and Midoriya, even Aizawa misses you even if he doesn’t say anything. We’ll get the two of you back home soon. I’ll try to find a way to send word more often.
A choked sob came out of Toshinori’s mouth as he read the letter. It was nice news, but there were no big breakthroughs, only an indeterminate amount of time left on the road. But, by god, it hurt to read that his kids, Naomasa, and even Aizawa missed him and his boy. He folded the letter and stuffed it into a pocket in his wallet and jammed the money back into the envelope. He tossed the envelop into the glove-box, trying not to think of how much longer they would be on the run. He ran his hand through his hair and made to get up. A small mattress rested in the back of the van and while it was better to sleep on than the worn-out seats in the front, it wasn’t his mattress back in his teacher’s dorm. Slouched over in the middle of the van, he rested his hand on his boy’s head and combed through the thick curls. He spoke quietly.
“My boy, come move to the mattress in the back, we’ll be staying here for the rest of the night.” He didn’t have to say that it was more comfortable than the front seats, that had been established long enough ago. All he got however was a muffled grumble.
“Come on my boy, you don’t want a crick in your neck.” Another grumble, but this time verdant eyes peered out from underneath the throw blanket. They shone with the dim light coming through the front of the van. His boy squirmed and tossed around, freeing himself from his blanket cocoon. Toshinori backed up, sitting himself on the left side of the mattress. A tired and muffled grumble came from his boy.
“What was that?” Toshinori quietly asked. His boy spoke up a bit louder.
“My bones ache, the weather is making them act up”
“Need a painkiller or a hot pad?” He asked back. His boy flopped on his side of the mattress, pulling all of his blankets closer, forming a lump. Toshinori inwardly chuckled, the boy was just a lump of blankets with a little green tuft sticking out of it.
“No, I just want to get back sleep” He grumbled back.
“Alrighty, my boy, I’ll let you get to it. We’ll be leaving midday tomorrow to get to the next town to pick up a few supplies.” Toshinori huffed with a short chuckle. He collected his own blankets and pillows and wrapped himself up in a loose cocoon, that he knew by morning would be nothing more then a pile of blankets at the foot of the mattress. Or even better, all of them would be stolen by his boy and stacked atop his own. He shifted looking at the painted metal of the roof of the van, listening to the pitter-patter of the rain.
It quickly lulled him to sleep.
And if he awoke with a face full of green curls, small crooked hands grasping at his shirt, and all of his blankets stolen, well that was his business.