Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warnings:
Fandom:
Relationships:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Series:
Part 1 of The Rise and Fall of the Mighty
Collections:
Accidentally being dads (BNHA), My Hero Academia Fics To Cleanse Your Soul ♨️, Absolute Best, (mostly) just some funky lil Izu fics, Vivian's Collection of Finished Works, bnha fics⭐️, My Favorite MHA Fanfics, The Good Fics, Niks 2.0
Stats:
Published:
2022-02-20
Completed:
2022-11-03
Words:
101,164
Chapters:
37/37
Comments:
651
Kudos:
1,900
Bookmarks:
459
Hits:
66,854

How the Mighty Fall

Summary:

“I’m not your son,” Izuku insisted. “Please, I don’t… I’m not…”
“Everything will be okay,” All Smite whispered. “I know you’re scared. So was I. But I promise you, it’s for the best.”
“I want to go home.”
“You are home, my boy,” All Smite replied, gently kissing the top of Izuku’s head.

After intervening in a hero fight, Izuku manages to catch the attention of the most powerful villain in Japan. All Smite decides to adopt him, introducing him to the lineage of villains who have possessed One for All.

Meanwhile, the number one hero, All for One, will do whatever he has to get his stepson back and make things right.

Pre-written, updates Wednesdays.

Chapter 1: Appraisal

Notes:

Hello, Zyla here!

This fic has been a labor of a lot and time and effort for the past several months, and both myself along with Owl and Huntress are excited to share it! It originally started as a pass-along snippet in a discord server and quickly spiraled completely out of control. As is said in the summary, this is completely written and will probably be about 30 chapters.

We hope you enjoy reading it, and we look forward to hearing your thoughts!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Izuku's family had a rule about getting too close to hero fights.

It was obvious who the rule was for: Tomura was an actual hero, Mom never went to hero fights, and Dad liked to do analysis through the TV. 

Izuku was the one who tended to get caught up in the excitement, mumbling to himself, his hands twitching as he mentally jotted down notes, and then without even noticing, his feet would carry him closer and closer. He wouldn't even notice until the police were yelling at him, or he'd get hit by some debris.

Mom would always be waiting at home with a prepared ice pack and lecture. "I need you to be more careful," she would say before wrapping him up in a tight hug. Izuku would then smile sheepishly and promise to be better, which usually lasted until the next big hero fight. 

Izuku knew she meant well, but the lectures always left him silently wondering. Was she worried because he was quirkless? Would the nagging stop if he had a quirk, even something as simple as the ability to pull his eyeballs out of his sockets?

He hoped not. The kids at school were already vocal enough about his uselessness. Izuku really didn't want his family to feel the same. 

They loved him, but they didn't understand the hum in Izuku's chest as he analyzed quirks, the warmth that came from saving people, or the passion that kept him standing when the whole world tried to tear him down.

He needed to be a hero. Izuku was going to be a hero.

Quirk or no quirk.

He knew it wouldn't be easy. Izuku was scrawny, weak, and, like everyone seemed determined to remind him… without a quirk. That was why he watched hero fights. He needed to analyze, get close, and make plans. He'd learn to rely on his brain instead of his quirk or body.

Still, he thought to himself, tucked inside a large discarded box shoved against a dumpster, maybe he could be a little bit more careful about what fights he wandered into.

Bone cracked under the pressure of a fist, and Izuku winced.

Victorious laughter reverberated off of the alley walls as All Smite, the scourge of Japan, charged his way through Firefly and her two sidekicks.

Izuku hadn't meant to wander into this fight. He'd been trailing Firefly all day, jotting down notes, mumbling about how cool it was that she could manipulate flames, and was it an elemental quirk or more of a telekinesis quirk since she couldn't produce flames; she could only control them. And how hot did the fire get, was there a limit to how much she could handle-

That was when she'd almost caught him following her.

Izuku had already been issued several warnings from the police in the past for "extreme fanboying." Apparently, following Death Arms around for a whole week to get a better grasp on his quirk was inappropriate, and Izuku had been issued an official complaint that he was still trying to hide from mom.

So when she looked his way, Izuku had squeaked and bailed into the nearest hiding spot possible–a discarded box tucked up by a dumpster and surrounded by rotting trash.

Of course, that was when All Smite appeared, landing on the pavement with a thud and billow of dust, his hands curled into fists. "I am here!" he declared in his loud, rumbling voice. 

And I should not be,  thought Izuku.

Only an idiot willingly messed with All Smite. The villain had been causing problems for the hero commission for over thirty years, and no hero had even gotten close to defeating him. (Although Endeavour had tried many times, and even the number one hero All for One had gone round for round once..)

Peeking up over the edge of the cardboard, Izuku watched as Firefly and her sidekicks fought back. Unfortunately, true to her name, it was like watching a firefly try to attack a child, who merely laughs and toys with the insect.

Blood splattered on the wall over Izuku, and he bit his hand to keep from making a sound.

"Is this the best you can do?" asked All Smite. He placed his hands on his hips, much like a disappointed parent scolding a child. "I guess it was too much to ask for more."

Firefly hunched over the bodies of her broken sidekicks. 

"Villain," she hissed. Her legs were twisted, and her fingers burnt and smoldering from quirk overuse.  She's going to die , Izuku realized in a flash of horror.

All Smite drew back his fist, and a toaster clonked him on his head, rattling against his metal mask.

"Get away from her!" Izuku shouted.

All Smite turned to where Izuku stood, now unarmed, and threw his head back in a hearty laugh that sent chills down Izuku's spine. He turned back to Firefly, and instead of slamming his fist into her like he would have if Izuku hadn't interfered, he snatched her by the throat, lifting her so that her feet dangled helplessly above the ground.

"Is that how weak the heroes have become?" He asked mockingly. "You need children to save you now?"

Firefly gasped for air, desperately clawing at All Smite's hand. She glanced at Izuku, and even though she couldn't speak, her eyes told him to run while All Smite was distracted. And to his credit, Izuku did run.

Just… he ran at All Smite instead of away.

"Leave her alone!" Izuku shouted, throwing his yellow backpack at the villain.

His aim was dead on. The heavy backpack hit All Smite right in the metal mask, sending old homework pieces, notebooks, and textbooks flying everywhere like confetti made of looseleaf paper. Instinctively, the titan of a man dropped Firefly in a crumpled heap, and Izuku continued to run until he stood between her and her attacker.

As he knocked the backpack away, All Smite looked down to see Izuku now standing defensively over the fallen hero. Izuku was suddenly aware of just how big the Scourge of Japan was. He towered over Izuku, and his hands were easily as large as Izuku's skull. He could crush him without breaking a sweat.

Okay, so this isn't my smartest idea,  Izuku realized, sweat running down his face as his heart began pounding against his ribcage.

"Kid, what are you doing?" the villain asked, sounding more confused under his mask than annoyed. "You're going to get yourself killed."

"He's right," Firefly croaked from behind Izuku. "Leave me and save yourself, kid. Go get help."

Izuku's whole body was shaking as he kept his eyes on the villain in front of him. He was growing more and more aware with every heartbeat that this was it for him. All Smite was going to squish him like a bug. He wasn't ever going to be a hero, even after he tried so hard. He was never going to hug his mom again, watch old films with his dad, or play video games with Tomura. He was never going to watch Kacchan become a hero, like his friend always wanted.

He was scared. And he wanted to run like Firefly told him. Although no matter how badly he wanted, he couldn't do it.

Instead, he turned to Firefly and forced a smile. 

"Everything will be okay," he promised her.

All Smite took a step closer to the two of them, and Izuku's feet might have as well have been sunk into the cement. He couldn't even force himself to move.

"You can't fight me, boy," All Smite warned him. "Run home to your mother."

Izuku shook his head, glaring up at the villain and somehow seeing icy blue eyes through the mask. He had thought those eyes would be amused or full of hate. But as he met them, they seemed almost curious as the villain continued to advance on Izuku and the fallen hero.

"Even if I wanted to, I can't," he admitted. "It was like… like my body was moving on its own. I won't let you hurt her."

For a split second, the villain seemed to freeze at his words. Izuku couldn't read his expression beneath the mask, but something about All Smite's body language told the boy that what he said had gotten under his skin. Izuku almost turned around to see if he could help Firefly get up, but the villain seemed to collect himself and closed the gap between him and Izuku.

"And how are you going to stop me, my boy?" He challenged softly, almost gently. "Are you going to play a hero? Use your quirk to hurt me?"

Even though the most dangerous villain in Japan was standing over him, more than ready to kill him, Izuku could only look away. He wasn't sure if the tears that stung his eyes were from fear or embarrassment. He didn't want to tell this villain the truth. All Smite would definitely laugh and call him weak at best if he knew the truth. At worst, he'd kill Izuku and then kill Firefly.

But then, the villain probably planned to do that anyway.

"Well?" All Smite pressed, and Izuku involuntarily flinched.

Here it comes. He'll kill me, and I'll never be a hero. Mom, I'm sorry.

"I-I can't," Izuku admitted. "I'm… I'm quirkless."

There was a moment of silence in the alley as Izuku's words hung in the air. Even Firefly seemed stunned at his words, and she was barely conscious.

All Smite bent down and reached out towards Izuku. He immediately tried to step back, but All Smite's hand shot out and grabbed him by the shoulder, keeping him in place. With his free hand, he gripped Izuku's chin firmly but not hard enough to hurt. He turned Izuku back and forth as if inspecting a doll and hummed thoughtfully. He seemed to be deciding something, and whatever it was, Izuku hated the way the villain was looking at him. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight, the way the villain traced his freckles and rubbed a strand of Izuku's hair between two fingers as if testing its softness.

Finally, he let go of Izuku and stood upright.

"You'll do."

The next thing Izuku knew, the villain snatched him around the middle and threw him over his shoulder. Before Izuku even had time to comprehend what had happened, the villain leaped out of the alley and into the open air. For a moment, it seemed that they were flying as Izuku watched the ground get farther and farther away, soaring over buildings and cars, only to land on a rooftop almost instantly.

"Wait–" Izuku tried to protest, but the villain took off into the air again before Izuku could say another word.

Had this been any other time, Izuku might have loved the feeling of the wind in his hair, flying at impossible speeds, and looking over the world from the sky. Instead, his heart was pounding, adrenaline screaming at him to move or to struggle, but his fear and sense kept him frozen. He really did not want to be dropped.

"I don't understand!" he shouted when All Smite landed on the next rooftop, already miles away from the alley they had been in before. "What's happening? Why are you-"

His question became a squeak of surprise when All Smite's hand gently patted him on the back.

"You'll be fine, my boy," All Smite told him. "I've been considering adopting a child or a pet for a while now. And after your display in the alley, trying to save that worthless hero, I know that I've found the perfect fit for me."

WHAT?!

All Smite took Izuku from his shoulder and held him out in front of him, still up in the air, as if Izuku were a baby. He couldn't see past the mask, but somehow he knew the villain was smiling.

"You, my boy, are my new son."

And with that, they were taking off again, bouncing from rooftop to rooftop.

Partway through the journey, Izuku found an opportunity to escape. It was definitely a stupid decision, but there was no way he could stick around to be All Smite's pet or son or whatever. So when All Smite landed in an alley for a moment instead of on top of a roof, Izuku kicked out and tried to loosen the villain's grip. It didn't work even in the slightest.

"Let me go! You'll never get away with this. The heroes will come for me!" To his surprise, Izuku was set down. He took off running, almost immediately yanked back by a tight grip on his arm.

"You're determined," the villain noted. "Even more proof that I made the right choice, although we'll have to do something about that admiration of heroes."

Izuku looked up at All Smite towering over him, suddenly much more afraid now that there was no injured hero to try and protect. "Please, just let me go."

The villain smiled before ruffling Izuku's hair. "No, I don't think so."

If Izuku had more self-preservation, he might have thought his options through more carefully. He might have played along and waited for a better chance to escape later. But Izuku never had much self-preservation to begin with, so he rushed forward and bit the arm that was keeping him from escaping.

The taste of blood hit his mouth just as the villain pried him off, uninjured hand wrapping around his neck and squeezing in a warning. Despite the threat, Izuku felt proud as All Smite surveyed the admittedly minor injury. The menacing aura the villain exuded a moment later made him regret it.

Well,  Izuku thought,  I guess this is how I die.

"Well, that wasn't very nice. I suppose I shouldn't have expected you to just go along with this." The man paused to grab some rope from a nearby trashcan and pull a handkerchief out of his pocket.

"W-what are you going to do with that?" Izuku asked nervously. The villain gave another smile in return, and Izuku could do nothing as he was gagged, blindfolded, and bound. The rest of the trip passed in a state of terror and anxiety. Not being able to see made it so much worse. When they seemed to arrive at their destination, All Smite pulled the blindfold off to reveal a sturdy door closing behind them, the lock clicking shut. He wasn't untied or put down.

The room they entered proved to be a sort of entry hall. The villain shrugged off his shoes, started walking forward, then doubled back to pull Izuku's shoes off as well. All Smite even shoved some oversized slippers onto his feet, but they fell off, and the man didn't seem to notice.

"Toshi, you're—what's this?" A black-haired woman rounded the corner, staring at Izuku. "Oh. Oh. Why didn't you tell us you were looking for a kid or that you picked one out?"

"It was a somewhat spur-of-the-moment decision, Mom."

The woman, All Smite's mother, grinned. "Wait till I tell the others. Third is going to have to make something special tonight."

A few minutes later, Izuku was tied to a chair, still gagged, in the middle of a room with seven strangers and All Smite all surrounding him. Three stood a little apart from the others and held an air of authority. One of them, the one with white hair and green eyes, finally stepped towards Izuku.

"He's so cute!"

...What?

"It reminds me of when we first brought our son home." The two others he was standing with nodded.

"Dad," one of them muttered, hiding his face.

A bald man wearing goggles stepped up. "Hey, what's with all the ropes and the gag?"

"He bit me!" All Smite declared proudly. They all flocked around him and cooed over the wound.

"Adorable."

"I like the fighting spirit."

"Reminds me of when I brought Daigoro home," the muttering one said, speaking quietly.

The black-haired woman was back in front of Izuku. "Hello there, sweetie. My name is Nana. I'm your new grandmother."

Izuku screamed into the gag.

"Isn't he just too cute?" the white-haired man asked, petting Izuku's hair.

"Now, now," All Smite cut in, "Are you all forgetting that he's  my  son?"

"That's right," the man with goggles said. "What's the squirt's name?"

"I have no idea!"

Goggles burst out laughing at All Smite's declaration.

"Sounds about right!" he crowed. "I didn't even know En's last name when I brought him home. I had only followed the kid around for half a day before I knew he was meant to be part of the family."

The quieter man, whose face was hidden by a large collar, looked at Goggles in surprise.

"You only followed me for half a day, and you knew you wanted me?" he asked, clearly touched.

Goggles wrapped his arm around the man and pulled him into a hug.

"I wanted to snatch you up the minute I saw you, son," he told him. "Always knew you were meant to be my kid."

Beneath the high collar, En seemed to turn red and looked away shyly. The rest of the strangers all had smiles on their faces as if they were watching a heartwarming scene and weren't standing over Izuku while he sat bound and gagged.

The white-haired man seemed to be fighting back tears of joy as he turned his attention back to Izuku and gently pulled the gag down. The others were looking back to him now, and All Smite knelt in front of him. His smile was probably supposed to be reassuring, but somehow it made things even worse.

"Go on, my boy," All Smite encouraged. "Tell your family your name."

Izuku stared at the villain, his mouth open but words unable to escape. His entire body was shaking under eight different gazes, all waiting for him to say something. The strength he found to stand between All Smite and Firefly was gone, and the adrenaline spurring him to run away and fight back had worn off now that he didn't seem to be in immediate danger.

Instead, he was surrounded by eight strangers, who were all convinced he was All Smite's new son or pet or– Izuku didn't even know now. The ropes were biting into his wrists. He had no idea where he was or how far away he was from home. Did Mom know something was wrong? Had she come back to the apartment and realized he wasn't there? Was Firefly still alive? Would she be able to send the heroes to save him?

"I-I-I-" he stuttered, the words catching in his throat.

"Yes?" the white-haired man pressed.

A sob escaped, and before Izuku could stop it, tears began streaming down his face. Instantly, the room's mood shifted as the adults all began cooing and moving closer to Izuku. All Smite was up in a second and pulled Izuku into a warm hug, seemingly unbothered by the fact that Izuku was tied to the chair.

"Oh sweetheart," Nana murmured from behind him, and Izuku could feel someone gently combing their fingers through his hair.

Someone had untied the ropes holding Izuku to the chair, although his hands were still tied behind his back. Now that he wasn't held down, All Smite stood up, holding Izuku to his chest like he was an infant. He could feel several warm, unfamiliar bodies press behind him and from the sides.

Like some sort of group hug.

"I want to go home!" Izuku wailed, tears and snot soaking into All Smite's clothes. "Please, just let me go! Let me go home. I'm not your son. I'm not!"

"Shh, it's alright, little one," soothed the white-haired man. "It's okay. You're okay. No more tears."

His attempts to console Izuku only made things worse, and he broke down into more frantic sobs. All Smite cradled his head, keeping his face pressed into the crook of his neck, and seemed to be bouncing him like someone trying to calm a baby.

"This might be too overwhelming for him," said one of the men who had been standing to the side. "Take him to our office, Toshi, help him calm down. We'll get dinner started and help get your room prepared. If we knew he was coming, we would have had his room ready and waiting, but…."

"I understand," All Smite answered, and the group hug seemed to break as he began to walk out of the room. Izuku felt Nana ruffle his hair before she walked away.

Izuku tried to look up and see where he was– the more he knew the house, the better prepared he'd be to escape– but All Smite kept him securely pressed into his neck. Izuku wailed as he struggled against All Smite's hand, deaf to the gentle words the villain was whispering. He heard a door open and a light switch flick on, then felt All Smite sit down.

He continued to cry and attempted to thrash out of the villain's grip, but with the way those strong arms held him and the way his hands were tied, it was next to impossible. All Smite didn't let him go, no matter how many times he begged, never raised his voice, and never untied him. He just rocked Izuku back and forth, humming tunes and muttering gentle reassurances.

"I'm not your son," Izuku insisted. "Please, I don't… I'm not…."

"Everything will be okay," All Smite whispered. "I know you're scared. So was I. But I promise you. It's for the best."

"I want to go home."

"You are home, my boy," All Smite replied, gently kissing the top of Izuku's head. 

Notes:

Sneak Peek for the next chapter:

Izuku started to shake. He was in a room with the original villain, a terrorist, a serial killer, and All Smite. Plus, whatever the others were. It was highly doubtful that they weren’t evil. “Y-you all k-kill people.”

Nana patted his head from beside him. “There’s no need to be scared, little one. We would never hurt you. Besides, you’ll get your first kill soon enough. We can have a party when it happens!”

Chapter 2: Chronicle

Summary:

Family dinners and family history. All important parts of bonding with your loved ones and new sons.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Izuku had no idea how long they stayed like that. Minutes? Hours? Days? Izuku didn’t know.

Eventually, his tears ran dry, and his sobs became whimpers and little hiccups. Finally, All Smite’s grip slackened, and Izuku was allowed to look around.

They were sitting on a couch in a tastefully decorated office with two desks on different walls. One was rather messy, piled high with comic books along with other files and books, and decorated with at least seven different pictures. Izuku couldn’t help but notice each one was of the white-haired man with the other strangers in the house. The other desk was much neater and more organized, but Izuku saw similar pictures with one of the men who had been standing to the side earlier with each of the family members.

All Smite bent Izuku forward a little to inspect his bound wrists. They had begun to sting after the fight Izuku had put up, and he was sure they were red and raw by now.

“Let’s get this taken care of,” he murmured. “I know that Grandpa Yoichi has a bottle of lotion somewhere in here.”

He set Izuku on the couch, and Izuku watched as he rummaged through the messier desk, muttering to himself and pulling out several items that Izuku couldn’t see. He returned to Izuku’s side and took out a pair of scissors.

“Keep still, my boy. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Izuku remained as still as a statue as the scissors cut through the ropes and his wrists were finally free. He wanted to run, but as soon as his wrists were free, All Smite had gripped his arms and pulled him into a sitting position. His hands were so large he only needed one to keep Izuku’s arms pinned together. He applied a generous amount of lotion to Izuku’s wrists. Whatever was in the cream worked fast, as the burns and raw skin were soothed away as the villain rubbed it where the ropes had been.

“How does that feel?” All Smite asked. “Better?”

Izuku nodded numbly, rubbing his eyes against his shoulder.

“Thank you, sir,” he said quietly.

“Dad,” All Smite corrected with a sigh. “It’s ‘Dad’ now, my boy.”

Izuku made a promise then and there that he’d never call this villain ‘Dad.’ Ever. Even if it killed him.

His thoughts were quickly torn when he heard a click and felt something tighten around his wrists. He gasped as he looked down to see All Smite securing a pair of padded handcuffs around his wrists.

“What are you doing?” he demanded, trying to pull his wrists away, but All Smite did not yield his grip.

“Just a precaution until we know we can trust you,” All Smite explained, “Until we know you won’t run away. You’ll need help with eating and such until then, but your family will help you with that. That’s what family is for.”

Izuku wanted to tell the villain precisely what he thought of his so-called family, only to yelp as All Smite scooped him up like a baby and stood up.

“Come on. It’s time for dinner. I’m sure Grandpa Third has cooked up something to celebrate. Let’s go.”

Izuku couldn’t help but notice that All Smite still did not know his name.

The kitchen and dining room were a buzz of movement and noises as All Smite carried Izuku back. Cheerful voices threw good-natured insults around, and pans sizzled.

Nana was the first to notice them.

"Oh, Toshi! Perfect timing. Everything is about ready." 

She stepped up into the air, her feet floating a foot off the ground. Now hovering at Izuku's height, she smiled softly. "Hope you're feeling better too, sweetheart."

Izuku bit his lip and turned his head away, unsure of how to respond to the genuine care in the woman's voice. Villains didn't care. They didn't.

All Smite chuckled, "He's feeling a bit shy. I have no doubt he'll warm up to you soon enough."

"Of course."

Izuku grimaced. If these villains thought he would join them, they weren't just evil: they were crazy.

"Hey! Come take a seat!" The bald villain yelled from across the table. "Foods ready, and we pulled out the chair for our- wait, did we catch his name yet?" 

"I've got the chair right here," said En, placing a massive, padded steel chair on the ground. "It was tucked in storage, but it's still in good condition."

"Perfect!" said All Smite as Izuku looked upon the chair in increasing horror. Thick straps hung off the sides, prepared to hold down and secure any limb.

"Wait!" Izuku cried, wiggling uselessly in All Smite's arms. "That isn't necessary."

"Don't worry," the white-haired man from earlier said, peeking out from the kitchen in an apron. "It's very comfortable. I designed it myself."

Izuku fought and thrashed, but All Smite quickly set him down in the chair and strapped him in. Bindings criss crossed over his chest and legs, one even going across his forehead. His hands, still in cuffs, were attached to the strap across his waist, stopping him from lifting his wrists more than an inch.

"Oh, Toshi, he's perfect," Nana cooed. Holding up a phone, she leaned close, zooming in on Izuku's puffy eyes and frown. "Say ‘cheese,’ sweetie."

The phone flashed, catching Izuku off guard. Nana scrolled through the new picture. "Oh, this is wonderful. This will have to go in the photo book."

"Food is ready!" one of the men yelled. "Third really went all out, so take a seat."

All Smite pulled out a seat to Izuku's right while Nana took a seat to Izuku's left, the others claiming chairs around the table.

Izuku strained against his bindings, testing their strength, but stopped when All Smite placed a hand on his head. "Such a cute little fighter you are. But stay seated for the time being."

Izuku wanted to protest, but a glass clinked as the white-haired man stood up from his place at the head of the table.

"Family, today is a special day," he announced. "Today is the day that our family grows bigger and we welcome a new member. I know we all remember when Toshinori first arrived and the life and energy he brought. And now it is his turn to welcome a new member." 

All Smite smiled, his arm coming to rest on the back of Izuku's chair. The white-haired man's eyes glistened with tears. 

"Congratulations, Toshinori, and welcome to the family-" the man paused, his face flushing in embarrassment. "Oh, goodness, we still don't know his name."

"With the fuss earlier, it wasn't appropriate to ask," Hikage murmured.

"But that's over now!" Goggles yelled, propping his elbows on the table to lean forward. "Hey, kid! What's your name?"

The eight members of the room hummed in agreement and turned to stare at Izuku, their eyes boring into him.

Izuku's mouth wobbled open before snapping shut. 

No, he thought, I won’t tell them who I am. He wouldn't give them that too.

He glared at them, screwing his mouth shut, but the room laughed, smiling at Izuku like he was a small child who had done something foolish but cute.

"I see he's got your stubborn streak, Toshinori," one of them said.

"I guess it just means we get to guess it."

Nana leaned in, her dark eyes peering into Izuku's own as if trying to measure his soul's depths for its mysteries. "I think it's Yuu, the name means gentle, and the boy has gentle eyes."

"Or Satoshi. He seems like a clever one."

"I like Yuuta. It means great bravery."

All Smite laughed, ruffling Izuku's hair. "I rather think Takeshi is appropriate. The boy might be weak, but he is a fighter."

The group hummed in thought, and Izuku sunk deeper into his seat. He didn't want to say his name, but hearing names tossed around made him uncomfortable. As if they had the right to change his name and his identity.

"Just call me Deku," Izuku mumbled, trying to jerk his head away from All Smite's grasp. "Everyone else does."

"Deku," said the white-haired man, looking affronted. "That means useless, doesn't it? Like a dekunoboo? That can't be your real name."

All Smite frowned. 

"No son of mine will be called useless," he declared.

"Then it's a good thing I'm not your son!" Izuku bit back.

All Smite sucked in a hurt gasp, the hand that he had set on Izuku’s shoulder squeezing uncomfortably tight. Izuku waited for him to explode, to hurt him. To his surprise, it wasn’t All Smite. It was the one that looked kinda like Kacchan.

“Listen here; you’re part of this family now! Toshinori picked you! Whatever life you had before doesn’t matter. You’re ours now! So don’t go around just saying stuff like—”

“Second,” one of the three that seemed to be the leaders, the one without the white hair, called. “He’s new. He’s scared. We haven’t explained anything. Besides, these things always take time. We have to be patient.”

Second grumbled but backed down as the other man continued. He stared at Izuku, and Izuku tried to shift nervously, but the straps kept him still. “I think it’s time to talk about some family history.”

The white-haired man leaned forward in his seat, giving Izuku a smile. “This story isn’t exactly a happy one, but you need to hear it all the same.”

Izuku did not want to hear the story. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to be strapped to this chair, but Second’s glare was enough to tell him to keep quiet and let the man continue speaking.

“A long, long time ago, there were two brothers who lived through the dawn of quirks. The older one had a quirk; the younger one was thought to be quirkless. The younger brother saw the way quirk users were being treated. He saw what the government was doing and decided to fight back. The older brother didn’t like that. He thought they should find a more peaceful resolution and change people’s minds.” 

The white-haired man laughed. 

“He was an idiot,” he continued. “The only way people were going to change was if we made them. So I actually fought for people with powers while my brother was too much of a coward to do anything about it.”

Izuku was stunned. This man was alive at the dawn of quirks? How could that be possible?

“My brother became the government’s lapdog, one of the first professional heroes. He even threw me in jail!” The man seemed outraged at being thrown in jail for what Izuku was starting to suspect was a series of very violent crimes. “That’s where I met Second.”

The Kacchan lookalike smiled at that. “I wasn’t really a freedom fighter, just someone who was fed up with society and broke into a prison to cause chaos. When I found out that First’s plans would essentially destroy the government, I was in.”

Wait a minute. That face. Alive at the dawn of quirks. Wanted to take out the government.

“I know you,” Izuku whispered, “You’re Anarchist.”

Second smirked at him. “Glad to see people haven’t forgotten about me.”

This was bad. This was so bad. Anarchist was infamous for going to any lengths to destabilize society. Bombings, gas attacks, pretty much anything that could kill large numbers of people. War crimes came to the man as easily as breathing. A suspicion crossed Izuku’s mind as horror filled him. He looked at the white-haired man.

“Y-you’re First, but the first what?”

The man smiled and leaned across the table to pinch Izuku’s cheeks. “I’m the first villain, of course! Sure, there were always people who did immoral things with their quirks, but it wasn’t until me that they really saw what they could do.”

This was the man who killed Japan’s Prime Minister during the dawn of quirks.

“Of course, I didn’t start this until my brother gave me a quirk. I took a group of government sycophants hostage. My brother was so desperate that he gave me a quirk just to let them go,” First laughed. “I didn’t, of course, but the quirk was appreciated. He thought I wouldn’t be able to do much with it because it was just a weak stockpiling quirk. It belonged to a friend of his, an old historian that my brother gave a longevity quirk. She had recently died, murdered by Third actually, but we hadn’t met him yet. My brother couldn’t save her, so he took her quirk. Little did he know the longevity quirk had mixed with the stockpiling one or that I had a quirk that would merge with them.”

Second grinned and slung an arm over First. “We wouldn’t figure out it was transferable until later, though.”

First chuckled at that. “That’s a story all of its own. But seriously, my brother did not like what I could do with the quirk. We were laying low and avoiding him when we ran into a serial killer who, big surprise, tried to murder us.”

Third looked a little guilty. “I didn’t know you back then. But once I realized what you guys were doing, I helped, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you did,” Second admitted. “Kept us from dying quite a few times too. First’s brother flipped out when he realized First had a serial killer for a friend now too.”

Izuku started to shake. He was in a room with the original villain, a terrorist, a serial killer, and All Smite. Plus, whatever the others were. It was highly doubtful that they weren’t evil. “Y-you all k-kill people.”

Nana patted his head from beside him. “There’s no need to be scared, little one. We would never hurt you. Besides, you’ll get your first kill soon enough. We can have a party when it happens!”

Hikage reacted before any of the others. “Oh no, guys, he’s having a—”

Izuku began to breathe much more quickly. His heart was racing. No matter what he did, he couldn’t seem to get enough oxygen in. Faintly, he registered the monsters around him, trying to calm him down, but it was no use. He was too scared. They were going to hurt him and make him hurt people, and he was trapped…

Izuku hyperventilated and passed out.

 

—————

 

Toshinori lunged forward, ripping his son’s bindings off, save for the handcuffs, and catching him as he fell forward. Toshinori cupped his boy’s cheeks, tilting his face from side to side. 

“Son,” he murmured. “Come on, don’t faint on me.” 

His boy was pale, sweat trickling down his face, and still struggling to breathe. Short breaths came in faltering huffs.

“Toshinori, it’s okay,” Nana said. “You need to relax or you’re going to hurt him.”

Toshinori looked down; his hands were pressing into his son’s cheeks, turning the skin white from the pressure. He forced himself to relax and gathered the boy into his arms.

“It’s okay, Toshinori,” En said, “He just had a panic attack.”

Hikage snorted. “We’ve certainly had worse reactions. Daigoro went crazy with his quirk and almost tore the house down to its foundation.”

“And I would’ve too if you didn’t stop me!” Daigoro said with a roaring laugh.

Toshinori frowned, lowering his head to his son’s chest to listen to his heart beating. “He seems alright….”

“He’s fine, Toshi.”

Grandpa Yoichi nodded, “Not everyone accepts their new life easily. It might be for the best that he sleeps. It takes time, and this was probably overwhelming. We can start fresh again tomorrow.”

His son’s head lulled against his chest, his eyes starting to flutter. Toshinori considered him. “Maybe we should keep him sleeping, let him rest well.”

“I’ll get the sedative,” Second grunted, turning back towards the kitchen, “Knock the brat out so he sleeps until tomorrow.”

“It’s a pity we didn’t get his name, though.”

Daigoro scratched his stubble. “Well, the kid did say we could call him Deku.”

“I am not calling him useless.” Toshinori growled.

Second strolled back into the room, a filled syringe in hand. 

“Well, whatever his name is, he’s looking towards a good night’s sleep.” The needle slipped under the boy’s skin easily.  

Toshinori’s son whimpered and twisted, eyes twitching as the chemical entered his bloodstream before finally relaxing.

“Good riddance,” said Second.

Toshinori lifted his son, letting the boy’s head rest on his shoulder. “I’m going to put him to bed. You start dinner without me. I’ll be back soon enough.”

He strode out of the dining room, rocking his son back and forth with every step. He could see where salty tears were drying on the boy’s cheeks, and Toshinori hugged his son closer.

“It’ll be good,” he murmured as he walked through the hallways down to his room.

True to Grandpa Yoichi’s words, his room had been prepped. Clean sheets and additional pillows, as well as a long, thin padded chain connected to the heavy wooden bed frame.

Toshinori set his son down on the bed, eyeing the gakuran his son was wearing. They needed to remove every reminder of his son’s old life, but clothes would have to wait until they found something more in his son’s size.

He unlocked the handcuffs, setting them on the bedside for easy access in the morning. Grabbing a blanket, he spread it out before picking up his boy and placing it in the middle. He found swaddling his son a soothing experience, tucking in the ends of the blanket until his son was neatly cocooned within.

“Good,” Toshinori whispered, cupping his son’s face. This would keep the boy secure but also safe. The click of the ankle cuff also brought an additional degree of peace to his mind.

He considered his son sleeping peacefully and found himself unable to leave. With a sigh, he sat down, lifting the boy’s head onto his lap and running his fingers through the silky, green curls.

“Sleep, little one,” he whispered. “I’ll be here in the morning.”

 

Notes:

Sneak Peek:

The thing was, Izuku has never been good at being ‘cowed’. It’s why his bullies never let off, the way they did with the others that eventually let them push them around. He may not fight back in anger, but he certainly didn’t sit by and take bad treatment.

This was very, very bad treatment.

Chapter 3: Expeditious Retreat

Summary:

Izuku takes his chance.

Notes:

Hi, we may have forgotten we actually have to post the chapter for people to be able to read it 😅

But now: We are here!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Izuku woke up with a splitting headache and a surprising amount of clarity.

It was hard to muddle his thoughts back together at first. For a long time, it was the sensation of soft blankets and callused hands soothing over his scalp. Everything was too warm; even his mouth felt like cotton.

Ultimately, it was the murmurs that woke him up properly. Growing up with a fretful mother like Inko, it was second nature for him to stay relaxed where he was, feigning continued sleep as he listened in.

“-I’m fine. I can eat later. What if he wakes up all alone? He’ll be frightened.”

He registered the familiarity of that voice and felt a spike of pain as his heart rate increased. The villain All Smite. How had he gotten here? When-?

No, that was right. Izuku had been introduced to that… that ‘family’ of villains. That they expected him to be a villain too. He remembers becoming light-headed, frantic, then the goliath of a man holding him, trying to calm him down before something was injected into his body-

This was bad.

He listened as the softer voice- that Nana lady- encouraged him to come back to the kitchen, that ‘his son’ (?!?!) would be out for another hour or so. And shouldn’t he have something prepared to give their new family member anyway?

Izuku fought to keep his breathing even as he felt his kidnapper loom over him once more, a large hand gently petting over his head before both figures seemed to leave the room. Taking the risk, he opened his eyes, looking to the blank wall he had been facing before cautiously looking over his shoulder.

He was alone.

Right. That’s it. It felt like Izuku had been passed from one catastrophe to another, first getting caught in a villain fight, then being taken by the said villain, and now being trapped with several villains. His initial panic was understandable, and he’d tried to reason with them.

The thing was, Izuku had never been good at being ‘cowed.’ It’s why his bullies never let off, the way they did with the others that eventually let them push them around. He may not fight back in anger, but he certainly didn’t sit by and take bad treatment.

This was very, very bad treatment.

Take a breath, consider what you know. Izuku had been kidnapped. He’d been in the Musutafu district, but with All Smite’s ability to leap buildings in a single bound, he could be miles from there. And he’d been blindfolded for the second half of the trip- still, he recalled the change from what felt like the outdoors to coming inside, where he’d been set in the chair and unbound. The exit was in that room- and based on what he recalled of the layout, if he could get to the offices or kitchen, he could backtrack to that and get out.

He wasn’t sure what all the villain’s quirks entailed, but he knew at least two of them were formidable. There’s no way he could fight them, so it was a good thing Deku knew how to avoid confrontation.

First things first, I need to get out of this room.

Careful shifting left him relieved to see that the bed was pretty soundless, with no old springs or creaks to give him away. It took a little bit of wincing and struggling against the surprisingly firm wrapping job to get out of the blanket. He almost gave himself away before realizing last minute that he wasn’t as free as he thought.

He gritted his teeth against the initial wave of panic, seeing the ankle chain—deep breath. Heroes get stuck in bad situations all the time; what can you do? Izuku was used to evading, so he never got into a position where he was restrained. He knew enough to recognize this was an older example of a quirk nullifier restraint. It made sense since there’s rarely a reason not to have one like that on hand.

But they were so effective because people would rely too much on the belief that they needed their quirk to get out. And now that Izuku examined it further, it appeared to have a standard double lock…

Carefully, he felt around his pockets. If only he had a paper clip or a bobby pin! However, Izuku paused when he felt the familiar outline of his writing pen. Perfect.

He worked fast. Time was now of the essence. He dismantled the writing instrument quickly, pulling and tugging at the fine spring until the thin metal stretched into a more suitable shape. Deftly, he started to pry at the double lock, unwittingly holding his breath till he heard the soft click of the ratchet releasing.

Letting out a shaky breath, he slid his socked feet over the edge, heart-pounding almost too loud for him to listen for danger. He dismissed the thought of sprucing the bed to look like he was still in it—no time—but he did carefully pocket the handcuffs laying on the end table.

Focus, keep your cool. Izuku glanced down both sides of the hallway before backing up again. He had to weigh his options. While Izuku was sure he could find the main entry he’d come in from, it also was worth noting all the villains seemed to reside in that space as well. The closer he got to it, the riskier this whole situation would be. Still, he didn’t have any good altern-

Blinking, he glanced back to the left again. It clearly led to a dead end with a few other rooms, but the far door wasn’t closed, and through it was another bedroom with a window.

An open window.

This had to be a trap- except, they all assumed ‘Deku’ was still asleep, safely locked away. No, this was a chance, and it was less risky than going further into the building.

All the voices he could hear were still far off—towards the kitchen if the clinking of dishes and water were anything to go by. Don’t waste an opportunity. Taking a shaky breath, he walked quickly down the hall, keeping his hand pressed against his pocket so the cuffs wouldn’t jingle. Sliding into the room, he quickly turned to shut it, headache aggravated by the slight squeak of it closing. He flipped the lock, knowing it wouldn’t buy him much time if they came, but he felt safer.

Looking back, he felt the first brush of real relief. It really was an open window- they appeared to be on a second or third story, but there was no screen! He might actually get away with this. Izuku hurried over. There wasn’t a nearby ledge for him to jump to, and doing a straight fall was only going to leave him a broken-legged idiot when they found him again. Glancing to the side, Izuku noticed that the rain gutter was situated only a foot or so away. He might have to swing to reach it, and it certainly wouldn’t hold an adult’s weight, but he should be spry enough-

“Yoichi, is that you?”

Izuku felt his heart drop, turning and realizing in his focus on the window, he’d completely ignored a side door apparently leading to some bathroom. It opened to that Kaachan look-alike—the Second—coming out while wiping down his hair, clearly just finishing a shower.

 “Did you talk to Toshinori yet on what he plans to do for the brat’s mis-” 

Familiar eyes finally looked up to see the panicked form, freezing just like Izuku. They both stayed still as if sudden movements would spook the other. Second glanced between the younger student and the open window, understanding immediately. 

“Okay, punk. Let’s not do anything rash.”

Izuku, though, had nothing to lose by being rash. Glancing around the room—the far door, the bathroom, the bed frame, the man’s reach…

“Hey.” The older man’s tone sharpened, watching the kid grow increasingly shifty, “Don’t you dare.” 

He lunged forward, and Izuku dove to the side, rolling over the bed. Ignoring the pain of hitting his hip against the sharp corner of the dresser, he turned back to face the adult, hand going to his pocket. The villain lunged again, almost comically leaping onto the bed to snag him, but Izuku dodged just out of reach before bringing the handcuff down over the closest wrist. 

They both briefly froze again; Izuku because he didn’t think it’d work, and Second because he didn’t expect this kid to have the audacity to do something like this. Before the elder could recover, Izuku connected the other side to one of the bed frame bars with a satisfying snick.

Backing up a step, Second kept staring at him in shock right until Izuku dodged back around him, towards the window once more.

“Ah, f- kid! Kid, you’re going to hurt yourself!” He tugged against the cuff, growing more agitated when it wouldn’t give. Reaching with his other hand still left a few feet too short for him to snag the middle schooler. “GUYS! GET IN HERE NOW!”

No time left. 

Shaking, Izuku swung onto the windowsill, trying not to focus on the dizzying drop. Not giving himself time to think, he leaped off the side, listening as Second yelled in panic. His hands scrambled against the weathered pipe, fingers aching as they fought to keep a grasp. The second he was sure he wasn’t going to plunge down, he started shimmying.

He looked up in alarm when he heard the sound of a door being burst through, hearing the yelling increase. A flare of panic went through him when All Smite appeared at the window, his fearsome visage looking incredulous and angry. 

No no no no—Izuku looked back down- there was still a story or so left, but he’d have to risk it.

“My boy, don’t do it!”

Ignoring him, Izuku took another moment to build his nerve, focusing on a patch that seemed softest, before leaping away.

Only to be snagged by a black whip.

Briefly, he was struck dumb, not processing what had happened. Following the strange line of black energy, he looked back to see the bald villain now leaning out the window, the line leading to his hand.

Another quirk.

Izuku started to be pulled back towards the window and immediately began to struggle again. 

“No! Let go- let me go! I’m not-!” 

His mouth was suddenly muffled, the black energy shifting up to cut him off. Fighting but helpless to stop it, he was brought back into the room, right into the anxiously waiting hands of All Smite.

As soon as Izuku was in All Smite’s arms, he was squeezed tightly against the villain’s chest as the man sank to his knees. Pressed up against him, Izuku could hear the frantic heartbeat and feel how the titan of a man’s arms was shaking around Izuku’s form. 

As if he had actually been scared for Izuku. As if he actually cared.

For a moment, the entire room was quiet, save for All Smite’s frantic, relieved breaths and the soft snick as Third freed Second from the handcuffs. Everyone else watched All Smite and Izuku as if worried that saying anything or moving would snap this strange silent spell. Izuku felt his bonds vanish, and a glance told him Banjo was no longer using his quirk on him.

“My boy,” he whispered, holding Izuku as if he was afraid he was going to shatter in his hands. “My boy, thank goodness you’re alright.”

He kissed the top of Izuku’s head, and something inside Izuku finally snapped.

“Let go of me!” he screamed, thrashing and kicking at All Smite. “I’m not going to be your son! I’m not going to kill people for you! Let. Me. GO!”

He had expected the villains to blow up at him, to snap at him the way Second had at dinner. Instead, almost all of them except for All Smite and Second burst out laughing at Izuku’s struggles and screams. He heard someone snap a picture as he continued to attempt to free himself, and he could see First wrapping Second in a one-armed hug while watching Izuku and All Smite proudly.

It only made Izuku angrier. They were treating it like what just happened was funny. Like it was hilarious that Izuku had been kidnapped, chained, and had to resort to climbing out a window to be safe. Like Izuku was cute when he struggled against the grip of the world’s greatest villain because he wanted to go home.

“Stop it, my boy,” All Smite warned him softly.

If Izuku had been less angry, he might have realized the danger lurking in his captor’s voice, but he couldn’t think anymore. He was so close to going home. So close to escaping. He wanted to get out of here; he wanted his family; he wanted to get away from these murderers before they hurt him or made him hurt someone else. He began to bite and claw at All Smite, but the man didn’t seem bothered as he looked to Diagoro and nodded.

The next thing Izuku knew, he was dangling three feet off the ground, his arms pinned to the side with the black energy of Diagoro’s quirk. All Smite cupped Izuku’s cheek with one hand, grabbed his shoulder with the other, and he finally froze under the villain’s gaze. He had never seen him this angry before. Not when he was hurting Firefly, not when Izuku had bit him, not even Izuku had said he wasn’t All Smite’s son. And Izuku was terrified about what he was going to do to him.

“Don’t EVER do that again!” All Smite ordered him, his eyes still reflecting his fear. “Do you understand? You could have broken something. You could have hit your head. You could have been seen by a hero, and they would have stolen you!”

Izuku was paralyzed under those icy blue eyes and couldn’t even cry or protest as All Smite pulled him tight into another suffocating hug, burying Izuku’s face into his shoulder. Like he believed something was going to take Izuku away from him if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

“I was so scared, my boy,” he murmured. “I can’t lose you. I can’t.”

Izuku made a small noise, muffled against All Smite’s shirt, but even he couldn’t tell if it was a protest or a whimper of fear. Nana’s hand appeared on All Smite’s shoulder, and some of the tension seemed to drain from All Smite just from the touch.

“Go easy on the kid, Toshinori,” Nana advised, smiling down at Izuku. “I would be more surprised if he didn’t try to run at least once.”

She turned to her son as she ruffled Izuku’s hair.

“Besides,” she added. “If I remember correctly, you hold the record for most escape attempts.”

What?

Did that mean… that All Smite had been like him? Had he been kidnapped like Izuku was, brainwashed, and turned into a villain?

Had… had everyone since Hikage been kidnapped and brainwashed by this insane family?

All Smite blushed at his mother’s comment, reminding Izuku of how he’d react when his mother said something embarrassing in front of him. His grip on Izuku had slackened ever so slightly, but not enough for Izuku to attempt to struggle. Even if he did, the bald villain’s black whip still kept him from moving.

“I never climbed out a window and tried to jump from a second story,” All Smite protested.

“No, but you did try to burn down the kitchen to distract us while you made a break for the door!” Daigoro laughed. “Nearly gave poor Third a heart attack.”

“I still haven’t completely forgiven you for that,” Third teased, a good-natured smile on his face.

Second grunted in annoyance as he handed the cuffs back to All Smite. All Smite adjusted his grip and stance, maneuvering Izuku to sit on his lap.

“Wait, don’t-” Izuku started to protest, but All Smite ignored Izuku as the cuffs returned to his wrists.

“I don’t think Second is going to be forgiving your new son any time soon,” Hikage muttered.

“Not likely,” Second grumbled, but he was watching Izuku with interest. “But I’ll admit, he did surprise me. We may be able to make a villain out of you yet, brat.”

Izuku squirmed uncomfortably under Second’s gaze, made even worse when All Smite had begun to card his fingers through his hair.

“I don’t want to be a villain,” he murmured.

Once again, he was ignored as First approached and rolled up Izuku’s pants to expose his ankle.

“How did you escape your chain?”

Izuku’s mind immediately flashed to the sliver of metal that he made into a lock pick, still sitting in his pocket. He couldn’t use it now that his hands were cuffed again, but there might be a chance to use it in the future. He couldn’t let them realize he knew how to pick locks or that he had something to free himself the next time he got the chance.

And next time, he wasn’t going to be taken again.

He looked away, not having to fake the tears or humiliated expression at being caught and cradled against All Smite like a baby again.

“It was loose,” he mumbled. “I slipped it off.”

First practically cooed, squishing Izuku’s cheeks together.

“We have an adorable escape artist,” he gushed. “I’m so proud! I’ll have to teach you all the tricks I know one day. Very useful for escaping pesky heroes when they almost capture you.”

“But I don’t want to be a villain!” Izuku shouted, jerking his head out of First’s grip.

“But you do need sleep,” All Smite said, standing up with Izuku in his arms. “And I think you’ve been up long enough.”

“You’re going to keep an eye on him this time?” First teased.

All Smite was smiling, but his grip became almost protective, pushing Izuku to rest his head against his shoulder.

“After this, I’m not letting go of him for a week.”

Notes:

Preview for next time:

“That is until he found Tomura.

That small boy, trembling and covered in blood, half in shock. The one who curled away from Hisashi’s outstretched hands, terrified that he would hurt the hero who was offering to help him. One who cried as Hisashi wrapped him in his cape and clung to him as Hisashi consoled him in that lonely alley.”

Chapter 4: Awareness

Summary:

New players find out about Izuku's kidnapping.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“Come back next week, and we’ll see how he does with the weighted shoes. If they don’t work, we might have to look into putting bricks in your pockets, young man!”

The small boy giggled at the joke, while his mother nodded gratefully. The poor woman had come into the office with her son’s ankle tied to a string, making him look like a strange balloon, frazzled and exhausted. The look of relief on her face had made Hisashi’s day.

“Thank you, Mr. Shigaraki,” she said gratefully, guiding her son out the door.

“You’re very welcome.”

He waved to them as they left, then stood up straight and stretched his arms. It had been a long day, but a rewarding one, and he was looking forward to going home to his wife and two sons. He might have to call Tomura to make sure he came over for dinner–he was not about to let the boy spend another night cooped up in his apartment playing video games–but if that was his biggest worry for the evening, he considered himself a lucky man.

He smiled as he glanced at his desk, decorated with pictures of his family. His gorgeous, kind wife. His brave, clever sons. Hisashi Shigaraki really did consider himself lucky, especially after two centuries of dealing with–

No, no need for that right now. Hisashi had a good day today, he was not going to let the memories of Yoichi’s sins ruin that.

He had spent decades trying to stop his brother and his followers. Trying to persuade him that what he was doing was wrong, that anarchy and chaos only brought death, not justice. Trying to help him see that peace could be found amongst everyone, quirk and quirkless. Trying to stop the seemingly endless trail of bodies his brother left in his path, almost as if he was taunting Hisashi.

“Look at what you’re failing to prevent, Big Brother. These deaths are your fault. If you had stopped me, perhaps you could have saved at least one. But you didn’t. You failed. So tell me, All For One, how is your crusade worthy if all it does is cause death and misery?”

And Hisashi almost couldn’t bear to admit it, but he had come close to giving up. So close to hanging up the costume and mask and fleeing the country. He had almost believed that all of those deaths had been his fault, and that by staying and trying to stop Yoichi and his group of successors–his family, because Hisashi was no longer family to him–he was only making things worse.

That is until he found Tomura.

That small boy, trembling and covered in blood, half in shock. The one who curled away from Hisashi’s outstretched hands, terrified that he would hurt the hero who was offering to help him. One who cried as Hisashi wrapped him in his cape and clung to him as Hisashi consoled him in that lonely alley.

He had saved Tomura. And Tomura had saved him.

And then he met Inko and her son only a few years later. Inko didn’t care about his past, nor did she blame him for what had happened over the last two centuries. She was the one who saw Hisashi at his lowest points and stayed beside him. Who held him and told him that it wasn’t his fault. Who loved him, despite all of his failings.

And then Izuku, filled with such determination and passion. So set on reaching his dream, becoming a hero, that he inspired Hisashi every day. Unknowingly encouraging his own step-father to be better, and to help people in so many new, creative ways. Izuku had been the first one to call Hisashi a hero without knowing about All For One.

”You help people with their quirks every day, you make them smile, and you make the world better! You are a hero, Dad!”

Hisashi smiled at the memories as he filled out the last of his paperwork and began to pack up for the day. He was ready to go home.

And then his phone–the phone he had for one purpose alone–began to ring.

Hisashi’s smile faded, and he felt a familiar weight on his shoulders. So much for going home to his family tonight. Part of him wanted to ignore it and continue packing, but he already knew that would never happen. He was a hero, after all, and it was his job to respond when he was needed.

“This is All For One,” he answered.

“You answered? I was scared you wouldn’t! They told me you were the one to contact regarding All Smite.”

Whoever it was on the other end did not sound good. Their voice was gravely, as if they were close to losing it, and Hisashi could practically hear the exhaustion hidden beneath the urgency of their tone. Between that and the mention of All Smite…

This wasn’t going to be good.

Hisashi’s other phone vibrated with a text from Inko, but he didn’t have time to check it.

“You heard right,” he replied. “Who is this?”

Floating Flame Hero, Firefly, ” the person said, chuckling dryly. “ Listen, they’re about to take me into surgery, but you need to hear this now. I don’t know how much I’ll recall after the procedure and drugs.”

A hero, All Smite, and about to go into surgery. This was looking even worse. Hisashi forced himself to ignore another text from Inko as Firefly continued.

“I encountered All Smite today, in the Musutafu District. We didn’t see him coming, or we wouldn’t have engaged. We- I- my three sidekicks didn’t make it.”

Hisashi winced in sympathy. He knew better than anyone what it was like to lose his comrades to Yoichi and his “family.” And he could hear the tightness in Firefly’s voice, as if she was physically holding back her grief as she forced herself not to break down. He knew the kind of strength that took, and found himself admiring her even more.

“I’m sorry.”

Thank you,” she replied, audibly fighting tears. “I- they did- I couldn’t- gah, it’s not important right now. All Smite got them, and he beat me to a pulp. He was about to kill me when this kid appeared out of nowhere and began to defend me.

Another text from Inko. This was strange, she never texted him like this unless something was wrong…

“I told the kid to run, but he didn’t listen,” Firefly explained. “And All Smite… I don’t know, he seemed confused, then impressed and then… All For One, he took the kid.”

Hisashi stood up in horror.

All Smite had taken a kid. Found a kid he was impressed with, then grabbed him.

No. Not again. Not another one…

“Firefly, what did this boy look like?” he asked urgently.

Finally, his eyes involuntarily glanced at Inko’s texts.

Is Izuku with you? He wasn’t at home when I got back and he isn’t answering his phone.

I just called Mitsuki, and he’s not with Katsuki. Hisashi, something feels wrong.

Hisashi, please call me, I’m really scared.

Then Firefly gave the description of the kidnapped child, and Hisashi’s world stopped turning.

 


 

Tomura picked up the phone on the first ring.

Once it had been awkward to do, but he had grown accustomed to the one finger gloves he had incorporated into his hero costume, and could now safely pick up objects using all five of his fingers.

“Don’t worry, old man, I’m already on my way to the house,” he assured his father.

“Tomura, I need you to listen to me very carefully and not panic.”

Tomura stopped at his father’s words. He had never heard him this scared or this serious in all his life, except… except when Nana Shimura’s family was involved. And Nana had been off the radar for years now, while her “son” All Smite had risen since then. Which meant he was most likely the reason his father sounded so upset now.

“What happened?” he asked.

“All Smite almost killed a hero today alongside her sidekicks ,” Dad told him. “Before he could kill the hero, a child interfered and All Smite kidnapped him instead of finishing the job.”

Which meant All Smite had chosen his heir. And now a kid was in danger. Tomura quietly swore, already turning around to go back home and call an assembly of the other sidekicks. All For One would need them tonight.

“When was–”

“Tomura, let me finish!” Dad begged. “The hero was able to contact me and give me a description of the boy and what he said before All Smite abducted him. Tomura… he took Izuku.”

Tomura froze where he stood.

Izuku. Izuku had been taken.

All Smite had kidnapped Tomura’s baby brother.

Kotaro Shimura’s words rose unbidden in his mind, a memory Tomura had buried long ago:

“She and her family will come for you, and they’ll take you if you go out and play hero, Tenko. They’ll find you, and they will do terrible things to you until you are a villain like them.”

They had taken Izuku.

“Tomura?”

Tomura raised the phone to his lips, a familiar itch along his neck reappearing after years.

“Who. Do. I. Hunt. Down?”

 


 

If Izuku was honest, he was starting to feel claustrophobic.

Nana had actually caught up to All Smite before he’d gotten Izuku situated back in the bedroom, saying he’d already prepared most of the food, and that sending Izuku to sleep for a few more hours would only spoil his hard work.

Izuku wasn’t sure he had an appetite after his failed escape, but it was better than being restrained and locked in the same room as his captor. He’d been guided out to the dining space once more, briefly debating the pros of grabbing a kitchen utensil and trying to gouge one of their eyes with it, before recognizing he didn’t have the heart to do so.

I miss Mom, Dad, Tomura…  

It had been hours–they had to know he was missing by now. But what if they just assumed he was off on his hero analysis? No, without responding to his cellphone, his mother would surely get worried. Even if he was late, he’d always give her notice. Or maybe Firefly or one of her sidekicks was able to report it. If they were still alive…

“Not feeling hungry?”

Izuku started, realizing he had been staring off at his plate of okonomiyaki. They’d allowed wooden chopsticks, but he’d so far only held them in his hand. At present, it was just the three of them in the dining space, the others apparently discussing his shenanigans back on the far side of the base. (Home?)

Nana–the apparent mother figure–tilted her head, eyes soft. “This was one of Toshinori’s favorite dishes, when I first started cooking for him, but if there’s something else you’d like, I’m sure we can make–”

“No.” Izuku shook his head, words barely loud enough to be heard. “I… it looks delicious.”

All Smite raised a hand to pat his back but paused and withdrew when Izuku visibly flinched. “In the future… Do you have any foods you’d like us to make?”

In the future, I won’t be here.  

Izuku glanced carefully at his captor before looking back to the dish, cutting up slices of the savory pancake but not quite bringing it to his mouth.

“Do you have more of a sweet tooth?” Nana pressed, her smile making her almost kind in appearance. “Daigoro and En have surprisingly sweet penchants, so we regularly keep desserts and mochi on hand. Do you have a favorite flavored mochi?”

Izuku gripped the sticks more tightly, feeling his anxiety spike. “Why? Why do you need to know?” 

Frustrated, he pushed the plate away, burying his face in his arms. 

“What does it matter?”

“Ah, my boy.” The giant hand brushed through his unruly curls. “I know these circumstances are… unique. But we all want to learn more about our next successor! What are your favorite classes? Do you have any games that you like to play? Perhaps school sports?”

Izuku slowly looked back up, hoping the incredulous feeling was showing in his expression. 

“You don’t… you don’t even know me. You know nothing about me!” he stood abruptly from his chair, the two of them allowing him to be unrestrained. 

All Smite moved to correct him, but Nana held up a hand in warning- only frustrating Izuku further. 

“You want to know about me? I don’t like hurting people– I want to help people, like my brother! But I’m not good at anything– not school, not sports, not videogames! I’m a nobody, a deku, and–” he looked down, wishing it wasn’t in the Midoriya nature to start crying when their emotions ran too high. “And I don’t understand why, especially knowing nothing about me, you would choose me to be some sort of- of- some sort of villain in training!”

After a moment, seeing he had stopped, All Smite laid both hands on his shoulders. Izuku only fought a moment before reluctantly allowing himself to be led back into the seat, Nana rubbing his back consolingly.

“Young man.” Japan’s greatest villain leaned forward, like he was having a difficult conversation with his child. “First of all, I can’t believe that someone so incredible as you would ever be a nobody. But I had similar doubts when Nana first chose me.” 

He flashed a smile towards his mother, who mischievously returned it. 

“She had me work it out on my own, but I don’t want you to be troubled by this. I chose you, because I had been fighting one of the top heroes of Japan, and winning. But instead of being frightened away, or staying out of sight, you risked coming out to try and save that worthless creature, even knowing you had no quirk to defend yourself with.”

A gasp came from behind, and Izuku turned to look at Nana, who was staring at him wide eyed, a strange emotion crossing her face. “You’re quirkless? Like my Toshinori was?”

The child frowned at her. “All Smite isn’t–” but he looked back to the villain, realizing it was the truth. “Y-you were quirkless? Like me? But…” He trailed off, eyes following the terrifying lines of muscle and power.

The man smiled, this time it somehow felt less menacing. “Well, that is a discussion for a later date. But yes, I was once just like you. Only I don’t think I was ever as brave.”

“Or resourceful!” Nana stood from her seat, heading towards the kitchen. “Toshinori never broke out of restraints like you did, not on the first day of arriving.”

Izuku opened his mouth to protest, to reassure that it had been loose, he didn’t break out (and he certainly doesn't still have the tool, no sir!), but All Smite nudged him to gain his attention once more. 

“I know first hand how this world can treat you as though you should be worthless,” he murmured. “But you, my boy, are far from being anything like that. With us, we’ll be able to care for you, help you to grow and see your true potential otherwise ignored by this foolish world.”

Oddly, Izuku felt touched by his words. He’d learned for so long to be self-reliant, to be his own supporter– it felt different to have someone who seemed to admire him for him. 

There was a quiet, traitorous part of his brain that felt glad he hadn’t made it out just yet. Oh, of course he was going to leave, he couldn't stay here. But it was nice to hear that they… saw something in him.

Something special.

“Eat your food, lad.”

Without really thinking about it, Izuku pulled the plate back, taking a few slow bites. Mulling over All Smite’s words, he completely missed the knowing look that passed between the adults in the room.

 


 

Sorahiko walked down the street, frowning at the increased hero activity. Something had happened, but he didn’t know what. Heroes were like ants, you’d see a few everywhere, but they didn’t swarm unless you kicked the hill.

If he had been younger, it would have made him nervous to walk down the street right in front of them, but he’d been retired for years now. Even if they did recognize him, he hadn’t fallen out of practice in his old age.

Turning off of the main street, Sorahiko located one of his favorite bars and stepped inside. The bar wasn’t his favorite because it was clean or had good drinks, it was for the information available there. Particularly, it was because of one of the bartenders.

The man had black hair spiked and faded burns spotted him. Fake surgical staples adorned the areas between burns and healthy skin. He called himself Dabi, but Sorahiko knew that wasn’t his real name. The man might be fooling everyone else, but a retired villain with as much experience as Sorahiko was a different matter.

Dabi was an undercover cop working closely with All for One’s group of strays.

Sorahiko took a seat near the end, close to a mid ranking, but well known, villain that had entered just a little before him. The bartender beelined straight for them. “What can I get ya?”

“The usual,” the thug replied. A drink was made quickly and efficiently.

“You hear that some kid got kidnapped? Midoryia Izuku or something.”

Sorahiko narrowed his eyes. Why was Dabi fishing for information on a kid? Sure, it was something the police would want taken care of, but it wasn’t the man’s usual kind of case.

The villain huffed. “That why all the heroes are throwing a fit? Kid related to someone important or something?”

“No clue. Whoever took that kid though should watch out, Sandman’s out for blood.”

Now that was an interesting piece of information. 

The heroes in a tizzy was one thing, but a hero who normally did rescue work hunting down whoever kidnapped the kid? Interesting. 

The hero in question being All for One’s pet? Even more interesting.

Sorahiko waited ten more minutes. Then he muttered some senile excuse about the pet shop not having hamsters and wandered out. Dabi’s eyes flashed with concern, and he had to hide a smirk. That was how he confirmed the man was a cop in the first place. Villains didn’t care like that.

Once he got somewhere secluded, he called Nana. She answered on the third ring. 

“Hey, haven’t heard from you in a while.”

“Listen, All for One’s sidekick brat has stirred all the heroes up. They’re looking for a kid that got taken. Did you guys have something to do with that?”

“…Well, Toshinori adopted a son the other day.”

Sorahiko groaned. “Of course the blond idiot picked a kid somehow connected to All for One.”

There was a muffled, but halfhearted, “hey” from Nana.

“So you guys took Mi—”

“NO!” she shrieked, cutting him off. When she spoke again, it was a little sheepishly. “We don’t know his name yet and want to wait until he trusts us enough to tell us.”

Sorahiko wasn’t going to touch that with a ten-foot pole. 

“Alright, I’ll get Nighteye on figuring out more about the kid and All for One’s strays. He has a pet project he’s been dying to show off.”

“That’s a good idea,” she agreed. “Hey, while I still have you, could you pick up a few things for me?”

Notes:

Preview for next time:

Toga was an unusual addition to the agency, although most were. Tomura didn’t operate a typical agency with sidekicks and heroes. Instead, under the direction of Sensei, Tomura established a league of skilled rejects, each with a different area of expertise.

Chapter 5: Vivification

Summary:

Vivification: to endow with life or renewed life

Both the heroes and villains start a new day. Some are happier about this than others.

Notes:

Happy Wednesday everyone! And from Owl, Huntress, and I... have a wonderful day!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Mirai was fuming after the call. Toshinori chose a son? Without consulting him? The broker had gone to all the trouble of preparing the perfect candidate.

And now that brat was going to bring Toshinori an ocean of trouble. But perhaps there was still hope to salvage this. Maybe if his candidate could prove himself and the Midoriya boy showed to be too high risk, a different successor could be chosen.

Yes, this could still work out.

 


 

Tomura had been scratching his neck again. It was an old coping strategy, but the recent stress had brought it back. They had taken Izuku, and Tomura couldn’t find him. His little brother had to be terrified. What were they doing to him? He had called in every favor, but All Smite was like a ghost right now.

Tomura checked the time. There were still twenty more minutes before he was allowed to go back on patrol. Because he looked up, he noticed the kid walking towards him. Blond hair and a cheerful face, he walked with a bounce in his step.

“I’m Toogata Mirio, the new intern. They told me you would be showing me around.”

 


 

Izuku woke up swaddled in blankets again, chain around his ankle (now tight enough that even with the padding, it still dug into his skin) and wrapped up in the arms of Japan’s greatest villain. Izuku held back a groan as he let his head fall against his pillow. It hadn’t been a nightmare then.

He could see sunlight streaming through the windows, telling him it was probably close to noon. He had no idea when he had fallen asleep or how he had been able to. True to his word, All Smite hadn’t left him alone since his escape attempt. Izuku had been allowed to eat as much as he could stomach, and the handcuffs returned.

Izuku hated what happened after that. All Smite had brought him to one of the bathrooms and sat Izuku on the counter like a small child. With his wrists in the cuffs, Izuku had been unable to wash his face, brush his teeth, or even drink water on his own. All Smite had done it all for him and constantly asked if he was being too rough or if there was anything else that Izuku needed. Izuku’s sarcastic requests to be let go were met with laughter and ruffled hair again.

All Smite had carried Izuku to the bed, and the cuffs finally came off only to be replaced with the ankle chain. All Smite had wrapped Izuku in blanket after blanket and settled his head on a pillow supported on his lap. He had spent the night carding his fingers through Izuku’s hair, encouraging him to sleep, and promising a fresh start in the morning.

Had he cried again last night? The dried tear tracks down his face told him he had, but he didn’t remember.

Izuku was done with that. He wasn’t going to give them his tears anymore. He was going to escape today, he was going to get back home to his family, and this place was all going to become a bad dream.

He wondered if Tomura knew that he was missing yet. He was only a sidekick and a rescue hero at that. But if anyone knew he was missing, he knew Tomura would be doing everything he could to find him. His big brother was a hero. And even if Izuku was quirkless, he would be just like his big brother someday.

”We’ll be able to care for you, help you to grow, and see your true potential otherwise ignored by this foolish world.”

All Smite’s words from last night still echoed in his ears. As much as he wanted to get away, Izuku couldn’t deny how nice it was to hear that someone sincerely believed he could accomplish whatever he set his mind to. To hear that he didn’t need a quirk to achieve his dreams was something he had wanted to hear for years. More than that, somebody knew the discrimination and bullying he faced every day because he wasn’t lucky enough to have an amazing quirk like Tomura or Kacchan.

If only it were his brother, Mom or Dad, or even Kacchan or a teacher who told him, not the villain who kidnapped him.

He wiggled his hand through the tight cocoon of blankets into his pocket, checking it for the small strand of metal that was his lockpick. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found it in his pocket. He doubted he’d be able to escape right now. After Izuku almost made it last night, they would be on alert. And between the blankets, the chain, and All Smite’s arms wrapped around him, he doubted he would get out as easily as before.

And if he tried now, they would know he had a lockpick. He was already lucky enough that they believed he was able to slip out of the chain. He didn’t need to push it and lose his only tool.

Still, at the very least, he wanted to put some distance between him and his kidnapper. He hated the way the villain was holding him right now. Izuku didn’t dislike cuddling. He used to love it when he and Tomura would sneak into each other’s room, talk through the night when they should have been asleep, and wake up with Tomura’s arm wrapped around him protectively. It didn’t happen much anymore since Tomura finished school and moved out.

But Izuku did miss it.

So he didn’t dislike the idea of being cuddled. He just hated that it was All Smite who was holding him like a teddy bear.

Izuku shifted around in his blankets, attempting to move away as quietly as possible while having as much mobility as an earthworm. He made it a few feet and began to scoot closer to the edge of the bed when an arm as thick as a tree trunk stretched out and pulled him back to the warm body in the middle of the bed.

Izuku growled and began to writhe against All Smite’s grip as the villain opened his eyes and smiled sleepily at him.

“Mornin’, m’ boy,” All Smite mumbled, patting Izuku’s head. “Sleep well?”

“Get off of me!” Izuku grunted, trying to kick out against his blanket prison.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes,’” All Smite chuckled, sitting up with Izuku in his arms.

Izuku began to squirm in his grip now that he was sitting in the villain’s lap, only to stop as he caught his gaze. He had seen All Smite joking with his family yesterday. He had seen him angry when Izuku almost jumped off the pipe to escape. He had even seen the villain being sincere last night when he confided in Izuku that he was once quirkless.

But now there was something so loving, so tender and fond in All Smite’s look. Like when he was holding Izuku, he held the whole world in his hands. Like he already treasured Izuku, even though he didn’t know a thing about him.

And somehow, that was worse than anything else.

“What is it?” Izuku asked after a minute, and the staring got uncomfortable.

All Smite blinked, and his smile became a bit sheepish that he was caught staring.

“Sorry, my boy,” he replied. “It’s just that… I know bringing you home wasn’t ideal-“

Izuku snorted at the understatement of the century.

“But I’m so glad you’re here,” All Smite finished, kissing Izuku on the top of his head. “I’ve had you for less than a day, but I already love you more than life itself.”

Izuku shuddered at his touch and avoided the man’s gaze as best as he could. He wanted to shout out at the man again that he wasn’t his son. He didn’t love the man because All Smite had kidnapped him from his real family. Izuku refused to be the villain that he and his deranged family expected him to be.

No matter how exceptional the villains said Izuku was.

But shouting hadn’t gotten him anywhere, and he doubted reasoning would work. So, for the moment, he would stay calm as long as he could. Because he had a feeling, there was worse to come today.

“I don’t think of you the same way,” Izuku admitted, still not looking at All Smite.

He heard a sharp gasp and felt the man’s grip tighten around him, silently telling Izuku how much his words hurt his kidnapper. But almost a second later, the villain’s grip relaxed, and he patted Izuku to reassure him.

“Give it time,” he promised. “You’ll see the truth soon, my boy.”

Izuku didn’t know who All Smite was trying to reassure: Izuku or himself?

“Come on, then,” All Smite said cheerfully, clearly looking for a change of topic. “Time for breakfast.”

Finally, the villain stood up and began to unwrap Izuku from his cocoon. He unlocked the ankle chain and frowned at the marks left in Izuku’s skin, even though it wasn’t as chaffed or painful as the rope burns from yesterday. Still, All Smite rubbed more lotion on Izuku’s ankle and wrists before pulling out the handcuffs.

Izuku tried to crawl back as he saw them, but All Smite grabbed him by the ankle and kept him in place. Izuku resorted to sitting on his hands in an attempt to keep them out of reach from the villain and the bonds.

“Do I have to wear them?” he whimpered.

He hated having his wrists bound, leaving him vulnerable to being dragged and carried around by All Smite. He might be able to pick the lock and free his wrists if he got a moment alone, but he preferred keeping his hands free.

“After your stunt last night? Absolutely,” All Smite replied, easily pulling out one of Izuku’s hand and clasping it in the cuff.

“But you didn’t make me wear them to eat,” Izuku argued.

“Last night was special because you hadn’t eaten all evening,” All Smite pointed out with an exasperated sigh as Izuku tried to keep his free wrist out of reach. “I can’t trust you— stop that —not to run away. I would have considered letting you sit in a regular chair today— let me see your wrist —if you had behaved, but after what you did to poor Second— give me your hand —and after almost jumping to your death, you need to learn your actions have consequences. That means the chair until you can behave.”

With that, All Smite locked the second cuff on Izuku’s snagged hand, the click ringing through the room with finality. Izuku bit his lip, fighting back the tears threatening to reappear.

Izuku was done crying in front of All Smite. He would not cry again in front of him. He would not.

He’s just trying to make me rely on him, Izuku thought bitterly. To eat, to brush my teeth, to take care of me. He’s doing it so that I’ll start to trust him.

All Smite sighed at the look on Izuku’s face and cupped the side of his face in what was supposed to be a comforting gesture.

“It won’t always be like this,” he told Izuku. “Once I see you are behaving, and once I know you won’t run away from me, the cuffs can come off.”

When he saw Izuku was far from reassured, he sighed and gently patted Izuku’s cheek.

“Let’s go get breakfast!” he said, pulling Izuku to his feet and to the door. “After that, once we get new clothes, we’ll see about getting you a bath or a shower.”

He turned back to Izuku, and the soft look on his face did little to make Izuku feel better.

“And I know you’re going to love your new room. It should be done by this afternoon. So smile, my boy. Today is going to be a good day.”

 


 

Tomura sat slouched at his desk, his fingers fiddling with the random video game controller he always kept on hand. His therapist said it was beneficial to have something to mess with nearby when he was feeling anxious as if some stupid little bit of plastic could help him feel better when Izuku was missing.

Glancing up at the clock, he felt his irritation increase exponentially. Sensei was supposed to meet him at 1 o’clock to discuss the case. Tomura had reluctantly even left patrol early to come and talk. But the hands of the clock continued to tick minutes past 1.

“Wow, Tomura, there’s no need to look so grumpy,” Toga giggled, leaning across his desk. “Sensei is on his way. He’s probably just talking to his informants.”

Toga was an unusual addition to the agency, although most were. Tomura didn’t operate a typical agency with sidekicks and heroes. Instead, under the direction of Sensei, Tomura established a league of skilled rejects, each with a different area of expertise.

Toga had been unfairly persecuted for her quirk and deprived of drinking blood until she was so sick that she had almost died. Through their underground broker Giran, she had been found and brought to the agency. Toga did homeschool through the agency but had gotten a special license to use her quirk on missions. It was an advantageous asset to the party, and typically Tomura had more patience for her antics, but not today.

“Get off my desk,” Tomura grumbled, shoving at Toga’s head.

But the girl didn’t move. 

“We’ll find him, Tomura,” she promised.

“It’s Sandman when we’re on the clock.”

“Lay off her boss,” Dabi said, walking into the office. The fire-user worked as an undercover cop, working at a dingy bar to collect information. The purple scars on his face from an early quirk accident looked villainous, and the fake staples he applied before each shift added to his menacing aura. Dabi picked at one of the staples, flicking it onto Tomura’s desk.

“Did you hear any news?” Tomura asked, choosing to ignore the slight.

“Not much. But I’ll share what I do have in the meeting.”

The doors slammed open again as Compress and Spinner walked into the office, still dressed in hero costumes. Both were yet another example of the unique people Sensei employed.

Before catching Sensei’s eye and being strong-armed into heroics, Compress had been a morally grey thief who had stolen thousands of dollars and donated them to charity. And Spinner had been a vigilante, roaming the more dangerous streets of Musutafu.

They were unusual, but Compress’s flair and talent for misdirection made him one of the most popular heroes employed at the agency, and Spinner was unrivaled at swords.

Surveying the room, Compress shook his head in disappointment. 

“I’m assuming by our leader’s expression that All for One hasn’t arrived yet,” The hero sighed, brushing off his hat. “I hope he comes soon; the cleaning crew has been complaining about an increase in sand.”

“It’s dust, not sand,” Tomura said, fighting the urge to scratch his neck.

“That’s silly, Tomura. Your name is Sandman, not Dustman.”

Tomura dug his fingers into the video game controller. He couldn’t dust another one; it would be the second one that day. “All we’re missing now is Twice and Sensei.”

“And that new intern! Right? His name is Mirio!”

The controller cracked under pressure. Tomura scowled. Of all the times to get assigned a new intern. The annoyingly cheerful hero grated on Tomura’s nerves with his bright smile and shiny eyes. No one should be that happy, not if they were a real hero, out on the streets, seeing the worst of humanity.

Tomura didn’t trust smiles like that or people like that.

He paused, except for Izuku, of course. Izuku was the one exception.

And right now, his little brother was gone.

The office doors slammed open as Sensei entered, followed by Twice and new intern Mirio.

His Sensei looked awful. Deep bags under his eyes, disheveled hair, but the piercing glare in his eyes and set stance of his mouth filled Tomura with a glimmer of hope. Sensei would find Izuku. Sensei had to.

“Meeting. Now.”

Notes:

Sneak Peek:

Sensei was looking at the metropolitan map spread out on the table in front of them, and Tomura caught the look in his Sensei’s eyes. He was hiding it well, but Tomura had been by All For One’s side since he was a child. Sensei was overwhelmed and afraid. He knew, like Tomura, that every hour they spent scrambling around trying to find a clue was another hour Izuku spent with the villains.

He had already been missing for over twelve hours. A whole night with All Smite, Nana, and no doubt the rest of the criminals that made up their “family.”

His brother must be terrified, and Tomura. Couldn’t. Find him.

“I might be able to help,” someone by the door spoke up.

Chapter 6: Investigation

Summary:

The search for Izuku Midoriya has begun.

Notes:

Hey y'all! Hope you guys enjoy this next chapter. Owl, Zyla, and I had a lot of fun figuring out where the different characters would be and what they were doing in this universe.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Our forensic scientists haven’t left a single inch of the alley Izuku was taken from unchecked,” All For One reported, standing in front of his assembled team. “It’s as Firefly told us. Izuku’s backpack was there, along with a couple of other items that had his fingerprints that he must have used to intervene and protect Firefly. A lot of blood at that scene, but so far all of it has been from Firefly and her team.”

“But that’s a good thing, right?” Dabi spoke up. “It means the kid wasn’t hurt when he was taken.”

All For One nodded in agreement, and Tomura fiddled with the game set in his hand, the itch subsiding ever so slightly. His little brother hadn’t been hurt, at least. But then again, considering the state of Firefly and her sidekicks, that only confirmed other factors.

All Smite was always ready to kill and kill brutally. And while Tomura was thanking Kami that Izuku hadn’t been the same, it meant that Izuku had stood out to the villain. That All Smite had marked his brother as someone special.

And so he had kidnapped him instead.

“They found his cell phone shattered in the alley,” All For One continued. “So it most likely fell out of his pocket when All Smite grabbed him. There were foot-shaped dents in the pavement near the place Firefly had been laying, and smaller footprints between them, where Izuku must have stood. But after that, nothing. Which means All Smite likely picked up Izuku and went airborne.”

Tomura almost didn’t want to believe it.

His brother… his brave, clever, heroic, idiotic little brother, had deliberately placed himself between Japan’s greatest villain and the fallen hero? He had used his body as a shield to protect one of the best heroes who just had the living daylights beaten out of her, and hoped to protect her against someone who could snap him in two without blinking?

Tomura wished he could be surprised. But this was his little brother. It didn’t matter if it was bullies, or teachers, or villains apparently. Izuku would always try to save someone who needed help. Even if it meant he would be in danger as well.

You were smiling while you protected her, weren’t you, Izuku? Tomura thought. You always said you wanted to be a hero who saves people with a smile…

His fingers clenched around the game controller; the one-fingered glove was the only reason it didn’t decay into dust.

He had to get him back. He had to get his little brother back, safe and sound. But how was he supposed to do that when one of the most well-known villains in the world had somehow slipped off the grid with Izuku?

“If he’s airborne, he’ll be almost impossible to track,” Tomura muttered, scratching at his neck.

“I’ve put the word out on the street,” Dabi offered with a half-hearted shrug. “Got my contacts in the underground getting their ears open. One guy came in and claimed he didn’t know anything, but I’m keeping my eye on him.”

“What was suspicious about him?” Spinner asked.

“Guy came in, ordered nothing, spoke to no one, and then walked out the door after 10 minutes when I mentioned Midoriya and All Smite,” Dabi replied. “Even for a bar that attracts a lot of villains and weirdos, this was something else. He disappeared before I could even begin tailing him, which just makes me even more suspicious.”

“It’s still a lead,” Mirio said cheerfully. “Next time the guy comes in, start fishing for more information.”

Dabi stared at the hero-student with a blank look, as if he wasn’t sure how to react to the positivity radiating off of the kid. Tomura couldn’t help but smirk, glad that someone agreed with him. The new intern was either embarrassingly naive, or there was something wrong about him. Anyone who had been traumatized, who tasted how cruel the world could be could see that.

And this kid wanted to be a hero.

“Okay,” Dabi said, clearly at a loss for an answer.

“My clones have been doing a full grid search. It’s actually a spiral search,” Twice spoke up. “So far nothing, though. Sorry, boss.”

“It’s not your fault,” All For One assured his sidekick.

Sensei was looking at the metropolitan map spread out on the table in front of them, and Tomura caught the look in his Sensei’s eyes. He was hiding it well, but Tomura had been by All For One’s side since he was a child. Sensei was overwhelmed and afraid. He knew, like Tomura, that every hour they spent scrambling around trying to find a clue was another hour Izuku spent with the villains.

He had already been missing for over twelve hours. A whole night with All Smite, Nana, and no doubt the rest of the criminals that made up their “family.”

His brother must be terrified, and Tomura. Couldn’t. Find him.

“I might be able to help,” someone by the door spoke up.

The entire room turned to see a man with blue, smoke-like hair standing in the doorway, a cup of coffee in one hand, a bunch of deli lunches in the other. He was grinning cheerfully as he took off his goggles, but the bags under his eyes told the room he was actually exhausted.

Shirakumo Oboro, or Loud Cloud, raised his hand in greeting.

“Hi guys! I was in the neighborhood, and thought I’d stop by.”

That was a lie, and everyone could see it. The hero looked more like his friend Eraserhead, with dark circles and bags under his eyes. The guy probably had just as much sleep as Tomura—none.

“Loud Cloud, you’re here?“ All For One asked in shock, as the rescue hero set down boxes of sandwiches by the map on the table.

“And I brought coffee!” Oboro laughed, adding a bunch of coffee cups to the table. “Figured you had stayed up all night, old man.”

He turned to Tomura and smiled warmly at his former intern.

“How are you holding up, Sandman?” he asked.

My little brother has been kidnapped, in the hands of the most dangerous man in the world and his family, my father is terrified that we’re going to lose Izuku, I haven’t slept in twenty-four hours, my stepmother is sitting at home right now waiting for answers, we don’t have a single clue about where he could be, and Izuku is alone and scared right now-

The itch was getting worse.

“I’m fine,” Tomura answered.

His former mentor gave him a look that said he didn’t believe him, but he didn’t push it. He seemed to understand why Tomura couldn’t say he was the opposite of fine right now, and why Tomura couldn’t stop because of something as minor as how he felt. Izuku came first.

“You don’t have to—” All For One started, but Oboro held up his hand before Sensei could finish.

“There’s a kid missing, All For One,” Oboro stated. “I’d be involved, regardless.”

He leveled his gaze at All For One and the normally cheerful and goofy hero’s expression became serious.

“Besides, you saved my life all of those years ago,” he added. “If it weren’t for you, I would have been crushed under a building. Wouldn’t have graduated, wouldn’t have been able to save people, wouldn’t have been able to mentor Sandman here. I’m helping.”

He pulled out a small plastic bag from his pocket and turned to the rest of the group.

“And I’ve got a lead.”

Finally, yes!

The atmosphere of the room shifted as Oboro took a pen, and marked the alley on the map that Izuku had been taken from.

“I went to the scene, and looked it over,” he explained. “And there were cracks from where All Smite took off, right? Well, that got me thinking that no matter how far he can jump, he still needs to land. And a big guy like him is going to leave a huge mark.”

He looked up at the assembled heroes and sidekicks, and a familiar grin came to the hero’s face.

“All Smite’s can jump pretty far, sure. But the sky is mine. I started going in larger and larger circles on my clouds, and I found a badly messed up roof here.”

He marked an X on the map, about half a mile away from the original alley. Mirio whistled, clearly impressed with the length of All Smite’s leap and even Spinner and Toga looked surprised at how far he could go with just one jump.

“I was able to start making a trail,” Oboro continued, marking a line of X’s on the map. “Here, here, and here. And then I found something really interesting in an old alley here.”

It was about 5 miles away from where Izuku had been taken.

“I looked around and found some rope smeared with blood lying by a trashcan. The blood was dried, but luckily I remembered that Midoriya’s father was the man who helped the head of the Shie Hassaikai with his granddaughter’s quirk. I brought the sample to the old man, and he was happy to ask little Eri for help.”

Oboro reached into the plastic bag and pulled out a small vial of bright red blood. All For One’s eyes went wide under his mask, and Toga was on her feet before Oboro had to say more. She quickly uncapped the vial and downed the blood. A second later, her body morphed into a perfect copy of All Smite.

“This is weird! This is so cool!” Twice exclaimed.

“Look, Sensei, I’m as tall as you!” Toga squealed.

Okay, it was weird to hear Toga’s perky tone in All Smite’s voice.

All For One looked over Toga, assessing the form for anything that could give them clues about Izuku’s whereabouts. Toga’s quirk allowed her to take on the appearance of someone at the time their blood was taken, including the injuries, even if she wasn’t actually injured. His eyes darted to her hand, and he grabbed it to inspect it closer.

“Sandman, look at this.”

Tomura moved over to his adopted father, and took a better look at Toga’s disguised hand. On the meat of the hand, curved around the thumb, looking deep enough to draw blood were teeth marks.

“He bit him?” he gasped in awe. “Izuku actually bit him?”

“Your brother’s a brave kid,” Spinner chuckled.

“Brave or stupid,” Dabi added, but even he looked rather impressed that Izuku had the guts to take a bite out of the guy he had seen destroy four heroes.

All For One hummed in agreement, before looking to Oboro.

“Was there any other blood?” he asked urgently, clearly scared of what had happened after Izuku had bitten All Smite. Oboro shook his head in reply.

“Maybe the kid escaped,” Mirio suggested brightly. “He bit All Smite, got free, and ran?”

“Are you an idiot?” Tomura snapped. “You don’t just bite someone like All Smite and get away. And if he did somehow manage to outrun All Smite, how come he didn’t find a hero or the police? Why didn’t he come home?”

“Sandman…” Sensei warned.

The annoyingly sunny intern’s face fell as he looked down in embarrassment. All For One took Tomura by the shoulder and the look he got was enough of a reprimand without him having to say anything.

“Sorry, Sensei,” Tomura apologized.

“I agree with Sandman, though,” Compress spoke up. “More likely he tied up Izuku after the boy struggled and bit him. Hence the blood on the unused rope. Did your tracking take you further?”

Oboro nodded, marking off more places on his map.

“The trail went cold way past Musutafu,” he said. “He’s definitely not there. But, while I was waiting for Eri to make the blood liquid again, I talked to Nedzu, and he was kind enough to make an algorithm for us. And based on where he seemed to be heading, the frequency of previous All Smite sightings, similar damages found on roofs and streets, and a bunch of other factors, he was able to narrow it down to three potential cities. They're large, but it's a start.”

He stood upright and three little clouds appeared, each one hovering over a different section: Hosu, Jakku City, and Kamino Ward.

“That’s a lot of area to cover,” Mirio muttered warily.

“But a lot less than all of Japan,” Sensei countered, relief radiating off of him. “Oboro, thank you!”

“Thank me when Sandman’s brother is back home,” Oboro replied, gulping down coffee. “I’ll start patrolling these areas myself once I get some sleep. Shouta will get on my case if I don’t go to bed soon, the hypocrite.”

Sensei nodded, too busy absorbing this new information and planning their next steps to listen to the quip.

“Dabi, start fishing for information about these three areas,” he ordered. “See if anyone has spotted All Smite in there enough to narrow down a location. Twice, start using your clones to turn these places upside down. Use ones of other people and civilians, we can’t let All Smite know we’ve narrowed down these locations.”

“Yes sir.”

“Right away, boss! Can’t we take a lunch break?”

All For One looked up to the remaining group, but Tomura was already taking charge.

“Spinner, you take Hosu,” he picked up where Sensei left off. “Get in contact with your vigilante friends there, bring them in on the hunt. Compress, take Jakku. I’ve got Kamino.”

He glanced at his Sensei and back to his team. He knew the threat All Smite posed, and trusted them to be smart. But even so, this wasn’t just All Smite they were dealing with, if Sensei was right. This was Nana Shimura, and several of the worst criminals Japan had ever produced in the last two hundred years.

“Remember, Izuku is our priority,” Tomura warned them. “ Do not engage with All Smite or any allies he might have. If you can safely rescue Izuku without fighting, do it. But if not, contact us and keep your eyes on Izuku until reinforcements arrive.”

“Great!” Mirio cheered. “Where do you want me?”

Oh, right. He was still here. And judging by the pleading, expectant look on his face, he wanted to go to Kamino with Tomura.

Any other time, Tomura might have been okay with it, maybe even flattered that the student wanted to tag along with him, a sidekick, and not Compress who was a full time hero. But not right now. Tomura couldn’t afford any distractions. Izuku was all that mattered right now. And Tomura wasn’t about to let some optimistic student hold him back from finding his little brother.

Besides, only one person got away with giving Tomura those puppy eyes. And if Tomura did his job right, he would be bringing him home.

“Go to Jakku with Compress,” he decided.

Mirio’s face visibly fell, but Compress took it into stride, wrapping an arm around the student’s shoulders and leading him out of the room, with the others following.

“Ah, a magician’s assistant!” hecheered. “Excellent! Come, young man, I have much to teach you.”

The room was quiet now, leaving just Sensei and Tomura in the room. And while his dad seemed ready to collapse moments ago, Oboro’s clue had renewed both of them. Dad stood up straight, his determination charged as he looked at Tomura.

“I’m going to the area of Dabi’s bar,” he informed Tomura. “See if I can find this man who seems to know something. If I can’t find him, I’m going to start in Hosu with Spinner. Keep me updated about Kamino.”

Tomura nodded, slipping on his mask. He had lost one family because of Nana and her family. He wouldn’t let them tear apart another.

Notes:

Sneak Peek:

All Smite ruffled Izuku's hair. "That's cute, my boy. But what would you be besides a villain?"

"Oh, I don't know. A hero!?"

The room quieted, smiles slipping off the villains' faces. "A hero?"

"Ye-yes," said Izuku, hating the stutter that crept in. "I'm going to be a hero. A hero that makes people feel safe! Like they belong."

Chapter 7: Company

Summary:

Izuku continues his new life with villains and someone new visits.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Izuku glared at the villains encircling him in the living room, each wearing a look of amusement or happiness. He had been up for three hours, and he was already done with the day. He had already survived a humiliating breakfast in the chair with villains cooing at his bedhead and laughing at how long he had slept.

Worst had been All Smite's beaming face inches from his own, hand-feeding Izuku mouthful after mouthful of food like he was a toddler. Izuku had never thought the ability to feed himself was a privilege, but in this household, it was– as well as any form of personal privacy.

"Oh, sweetie, you are just too precious!" Nana cooed. She pressed her fingers into Izuku's cheeks, forcing his mouth into a painfully exaggerated smile. "With looks like these, no hero will suspect you. You'll make such a fine villain!" 

Izuku tried to scowl and jerk his head away but failed as Nana floated right back over, her quirk giving her greater mobility over Izuku.

According to First (or Grandpa Yoichi as Izuku was supposed to address him), Izuku's escape attempt wasn't out of terror or a desire to go home but because he didn't know the family well enough. They needed bonding time. All Smite had approved the idea, and Izuku was released from the chair, only to be carried into the living room and set in the middle of the group.

They claimed they wanted to get to know him, but Izuku, not too keen on the idea, refused to answer any questions and tried to avoid any physical contact. This was easier said than done. The villains sat in a circle on couches and the floor, blocking each potential escape route.

Nana circled him, "I can't decide what type of villain he will be. He looks like a double agent or assassin, but I could also see a melee fighter."

"With those noodle arms?” Second snorted. “The brat needs more muscle before he'll be able to face anyone."

"He didn't seem too scrawny last night when he caught you," First teased, digging an elbow into Second's side.

The Second frowned, and the villain looked so similar to Kacchan that Izuku had to turn away. "He's sneaky; I'll give him that."

"I think he'll be more of a sideline villain," voiced En.

"Or maybe," Izuku said loudly, trying to shut them up, "I won't be a villain at all."

The group burst into laughter, and Izuku's face reddened in embarrassment.

All Smite ruffled Izuku's hair. "That's cute, my boy, but what would you be besides a villain?"

"Oh, I don't know. A hero!?"

The room quieted, smiles slipping off the villains' faces. "A hero?"

"Ye-yes," said Izuku, hating the stutter that crept in. "I'm going to be a hero. A hero that makes people feel safe! Like they belong."

"Oh, my boy," All Smite murmured, reaching out an arm. "You are safe," 

Izuku growled, darting away, but the villain snagged him, pulling Izuku against his chest. He ran his fingers through Izuku's hair, ignoring the thrashing. "And you do belong here."

"No, I don't!"

First stood up from the backed armchair he was sitting in. "You do belong here, and you'll see soon enough. Besides, why would you ever want to be a hero? They're ignorant sellouts."

"Loud," complained Hikage.

"Hypocritical," said Nana.

"Weak," smirked Second.

"Cowardly," said Third.

"Narrow-minded," added Banjo.

"A nuisance," said En.

"And a blight on society," finished All Smite with a nod.

Fury overtook Izuku. 

"No, they're not!" he yelled. "My brother isn’t like that at all!" 

As soon as the words left his mouth, he paled. He shouldn't have said anything. They couldn't know about Tomura. What if he got hurt?

First frowned and started to speak when a doorbell chimed, ringing throughout the apartment.

Izuku froze as realization hit him. Someone had come. 

"HELP!" he screamed. "I'M IN HERE! I WANT TO GO HOmph–" 

All Smite's hand clapped across his mouth, muffling his cries.

"My boy," he scolded, "You can't yell anytime someone has come to visit. What if you scare them off?"

Nana laughed. "It will take more than that to scare Torino off."

Nana floated over everyone’s head and out of the room. Izuku could hear her open the door and a male’s gruff, grumpy voice, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. He frantically struggled against All Smite, fighting to scream past the hand over his mouth. First joined Nana at the door while the others watched Izuku thrash against All Smite with quiet amusement.

“Calm down, my boy, it’s okay,” All Smite murmured. “It’s just Mom’s friend, you’ll see.”

Izuku didn’t even register the words. He was too busy trying to call out for help. Someone was there, someone who could call the heroes, someone who could save him. It didn’t occur to him that Nana was laughing or that First was inviting whoever was at the door inside.

A minute later, an older man who was even shorter than Izuku appeared, following First and Nana, a bunch of shopping bags on his arm. Izuku’s brief flicker of hope remained as he tried to break out of All Smite’s grip, even as the other family members greeted the man with waves and friendly smiles.

I’m not supposed to be here. They’ve kidnapped me– please, I want to go home!

The old man cracked a grin as he saw Izuku writhing against All Smite, even when All Smite had stood up to greet the man.

“Having some trouble there, Toshinori?” he asked.

“Not at all,” All Smite happily declared, despite the effort it took to hold onto his squirming prisoner. “I love my son’s fighting spirit! I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The old man chuckled, looking Izuku over with a critical eye that reminded him of Second. Under his gaze, Izuku desperately caught the man’s eyes, silently pleading that he would see what was so clearly wrong with what was happening.

Please, I want to go home…

“Cute and energetic,” the old man grumbled. “Should have gone with a puppy, Toshinori. Would have been less trouble.”

Izuku’s heart sank. The man wasn’t going to help him.

“Nonsense!” Nana exclaimed, joining her friend. “We love our new little boy. Toshi made a good choice. Just look at him, Torino; he’s so precious!”

She turned back to Izuku, not caring that he was still being held by All Smite, with his hand still covering Izuku’s mouth.

“Sweetie, this is my old friend, Gran Torino,” she introduced. “Torino, this is my adorable grandson.”

“You still don’t know his name, do you?” Gran Torino asked pointedly.

All Smite laughed, ruffling Izuku’s hair as if Torino had just made a joke.

“No, but we’ll get there,” he answered. “My boy just needs to settle into his new home.”

Izuku glared at All Smite, but this only got the rest of the adults cooing again at how cute he was and Torino muttering something about “Too crazy, even for me.”

“You’ll want to be careful,” Gran Torino warned them. “Sandman is on a rampage trying to find this kid.”

Izuku froze at his words, even though nobody seemed to notice.

Tomura? Tomura was searching for him? Izuku’s dying flicker of hope sparked again as he listened to the rest of the conversation more closely, desperate for scraps of information about his family. Was his big brother close to finding him? Were his friends helping him? Was Mom okay? Was Dad alright? Were the other heroes coming for him?

“All For One’s pet?” Second scoffed. “What does he have to do with the brat?”

“No idea,” Gran Torino shrugged. “Apparently, your new puppy means a lot to him. The kid is ready to tear the country apart to get him back. I contacted Nighteye, and he’s putting someone on the case to get more information.”

All For One? Pet? What were they talking about?

Tomura was a rescue hero. He was a sidekick now, but he was already leading a bunch of heroes and sidekicks together, people Izuku’s father had helped with their quirks. Why were they all acting like there was something bigger going on? His big brother was trying to find him, and that was all that mattered.

“If Sandman’s involved,” First mused, “Then All For One is already searching. I guess that was already guaranteed. He always reappears where our family is involved. We’ll have to plan our next moves very carefully.”

All Smite’s grip on Izuku tightened protectively as the others nodded with the same edge they had when Izuku mentioned he wanted to be a hero.

“Don’t worry, my boy,” All Smite whispered. “I won’t let them take you from me.”

Izuku growled against All Smite’s hand that that was precisely what he wanted. All Smite didn’t seem to notice, but Gran Torino certainly did. He snorted, setting the bags he brought with him on the floor.

“Might be smart to stay off the radar until then,” he advised. “I brought the stuff you asked me for, Nana.”

Nana gave a girly squeal as she bent down to look at the contents of the bags. The others joined her, and even All Smite set down Izuku to see what was inside. He realized with alarm that they were pulling out a stack of clothes that all appeared to be his size.

“These are so cute!” Nana gushed, turning to Izuku. “Sweetie, this will be just precious on you!”

“Look, he even got him a vampire cape for this one!”

“Oh, he’s going to look like a mini-mafia boss in this one. Excellent choice!”

“This reminds me of my first villain outfits,” First remarked fondly, pulling out a black leather coat, black pants, a white t-shirt, and some fingerless gloves studded with metal paired with a matching belt. “You’re definitely trying this on.”

Gran Torino grunted before stretching out his back.

“Well, if that’s it, I’m off,” he declared. “I’ll call you later, Nana.”

“You don’t want to stay?” Nana pouted.

“Nah,” Gran Torino replied. “I’d hate to intrude on this ‘family bonding’ time. Good luck with your new brat, Toshinori. And congratulations? I guess?”

He turned to leave, and Izuku suddenly felt his heart plunge. The man was going to leave. He was going to walk away as if there was nothing wrong. As if Izuku wasn’t in handcuffs, as if he didn’t know he had been kidnapped, as if he didn’t know that Izuku’s family was searching for him.

“Wait!” he shouted, launching himself at Gran Torino. “Wait, don’t go! You have to help me!”

All Smite caught Izuku by the back of his clothes, holding him like a kitten by the scruff of his neck. Izuku desperately fought against his kidnapper’s grip, still shouting as Nana and First walked Gran Torino to the door.

“Don’t leave me here!” Izuku screamed. “I want to go home! Help me! Please, you have to help me! Don’t go, please! PLEASE, I WANT TO GO HOME!”

All Smite turned Izuku around and brought him into another hug, burying Izuku into his chest and muffling his screams for help. Izuku could only thrash helplessly against his grip as he heard the door shut and the lock click in place, condemning Izuku to his fate. Izuku went limp when he realized the man had gone, leaving him alone. Alone with All Smite and his family of killers once again.

All Smite was trying to console Izuku again as he fought to keep his tears contained. He would not cry again. He would not cry. 

“Well, now that we’ve got new clothes,” First chirped, returning to the room. “Let’s get our little one dressed up.”

Izuku only whimpered as the man took Izuku’s face in his hands, squishing his cheeks together, a manic gleam in his eye.

“I think you are going to make one adorable little villain,” he cooed.

Izuku didn't fight when All Smite led him to the bathroom or when he unlocked his handcuffs.

He had no energy to escape when he was trying so hard to hold back tears.

He had always known he was a crybaby. A minor thing could set off a torrent of tears. It was embarrassing, but he had grown accustomed to it. Besides, his family didn’t care. Mom said Izuku was like her. Dad told Izuku he had a large heart. And Tomurasaid Izuku cared too much but to never change.

Izuku had held on to their words when Kacchan mocked him and called him useless or the teachers told him to grow up. He was a crybaby, and that was okay.

Except it wasn't when All Smite and his family watched him, laughing at Izuku's pathetic attempts to escape. Shame burned his cheeks as they smiled and cooed at his desperate attempts to get help, invalidating his needs and feelings.

His eyes stung, and he kept his head bowed as All Smite sorted through the bags, picking an outfit for him to try on.

"Hey, Toshi!" Daigoro yelled. "Hurry it up in there. We want to see."

All Smite laughed, "We'll be out in a minute."

He pulled out the clothes First requested, a plain white t-shirt, black jeans with high cuffs, and a black leather jacket with padded shoulders. "Here you go, my son."

Izuku took the clothes wordlessly and began unbuttoning his pants. His gakuran was dirty, and even if he protested, he would be forced into the clothes.

He hated having All Smite watch him change, and the tears lingering in his eyes grew in force, but he refused to cry.

The jeans fit well enough, riding high on his waist and flaring at his calves. They were well made and very expensive. In any other situation, Izuku might have been thrilled. 

All Smite sat on the toilet, fiddling with Izuku's handcuffs and watching Izuku's trembling movements. Izuku could feel the weight of those blue eyes boring into him.

"Did Torino coming over upset you, my boy?" He asked.

Izuku paused, mid-unbuttoning his shirt. 

"It was fine," he ground out, refusing to make eye contact.

All Smite hummed. "You seem a tad subdued. Was it too much? Would it be better if we didn't have anyone over for a while?"

"Why does it matter? You don't care about what I want."

"What?" All Smite asked, brows furrowed together.

All Smite’s look of innocent confusion set Izuku over the edge. "You don't care! You don't care about me or what I want, so why does it matter if I do or don't want him coming over again!" Izuku yelled. "Don't ask for my opinion or wants when you invalidate them by refusing to let me go home!"

"My bo-"

"NO! I don't like it when you call me that! Or any other endearment. I don't want to be your son or pet or whatever." A single tear escaped his eye and rolled down his cheek. Izuku rubbed his eyes in frustration, grinding his fists into his face. "Don't pretend you-"

All Smite reached forward, cutting off Izuku's words as he grabbed the boy's chin. Gently, he tilted the boy's head to the side, revealing a burn on Izuku's collarbone that had been hidden under the gakuran.

All Smite's massive thumb brushed across the red, shiny skin. 

"How did you get this?" he whispered, horror rising in his voice.

Notes:

Sneak Peek:

Izuku decided not to incriminate himself further and stayed silent. These people weren’t entitled to know anything about him. They sure didn’t get to know about his scars. It was his decision to tell them, and he’d decided no.

“You could always take off the shirt and check,” Hikage suggested.

Horror filled Izuku. No! They couldn’t do this. This was his choice. “Let go of me! Don’t you dare!”

“I’m sorry, my boy, but we need to see. Whoever did this to you will pay,” All Smite consoled. His shirt was already being pulled further away. The tears he had done so well holding back finally spring to life. They would see all his scars, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Chapter 8: Degrees

Summary:

Nana’s eyes hardened. “You said it hasn’t happened in a while, but that means it’s happened more than once.”
“Well?” All Smite asked.
Izuku decided not to incriminate himself further and stayed silent. These people weren’t entitled to know anything about him. They sure didn’t get to know about his scars. It was his decision to tell him, and he’d decided no.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Izuku flinched away, struggling to pull his shirt back over the burn. He had completely forgotten about that wound. Kacchan sometimes forgot how powerful his quirk was, but even then, Izuku rarely scarred. Izuku couldn't even feel it now (he had long since grown accustomed to burns), but All Smite was staring at him in increasing worry.

"It's fine," Izuku whispered, looking away in shame.

"No," said All Smite, "It's not."

Grabbing Izuku, All Smite pulled him up into his arms and threw open the bathroom door.

"Wait!" Izuku squawked as All Smite strode back into the living room where the villains sat waiting. "Stop!"

First smiled, glancing up from his armchair. "Ah, Toshi, we were beginning to think something had gone wrong."

Pinning Izuku against his chest, All Smite tore away the fabric hiding Izuku's burn.

"Look at this!" he demanded.

Nana floated up to look closer, and her brow furrowed. "That's a nasty burn. How did he get that?"

Izuku froze under the weight of all their stares. He tried to shift away or turn so the burn would be covered, but All Smite stubbornly held him in place.

“I have no clue.” All Smite turned to look down at him. “How did you get those burns, my—how did you get them?”

Izuku was stunned. Did All Smite just stop himself from saying “my boy” after he said he didn’t like it? The shock of it startled him into being more turhtful. “It’s okay, it hasn’t happened in a while. My brother made him stop.”

“Him?” All Smite asked, voice turning dangerous.

Izuku processed what he had said and panicked. “No, wait, I didn’t mean it like that! It wasn't anyone. I just…fell on the stove! Yeah, I was clumsy and fell asleep while cooking dinner one time.”

Nana’s eyes hardened. “You said it hasn’t happened in a while, but that means it’s happened more than once.”

“Well?” All Smite asked.

Izuku decided not to incriminate himself further and stayed silent. These people weren’t entitled to know anything about him. They sure didn’t get to know about his scars. It was his decision to tell him, and he’d decided no.

“You could always take off the shirt and check,” Hikage suggested.

Horror filled Izuku. No! They couldn’t do this. This was his choice. “Let go of me! Don’t you dare!”

“I’m sorry, my boy, but we need to see. Whoever did this to you will pay,” All Smite consoled. His shirt was already being pulled further away. The tears he had done so well holding back finally spring to life. They were going to see all his scars and there was nothing he could do about it.

A hand stopped All Smite. Third stood before them. “Don’t.”

“But—”

“No. Let me handle this.” The tone left no room for disagreement. Izuku was released from the villain’s hold and frantically pulled the fabric back over the burn.

“Follow me,” Third commanded. Izuku didn’t know what was happening. He was still scared and upset, but this had to be better than what All Smite was going to do. He was led to a side room. (The window had been shabbily boarded up with what looked like the remains of a chair.)

“Okay. We’re going to have a little talk.”

Izuku was most certainly not going to talk. He was already eyeing anything in the room he could use against the man. There wouldn’t be any point in escaping, but if the villain thought he could get Izuku to show him his scars, he was wrong.

To Izuku’s shock, Third pulled off his shirt. Izuku had only ever seen the villain in short sleeves, and now he knew why. Burn marks littered the man. Some were large, but most were small, almost like someone had taken a match to his skin. 

“I was homeless when I was younger. There have always been people who will hurt anyone they can get away with hurting, but the dawn of quirks made it worse. Sometimes I’d just be sleeping and wake up in pain.”

Izuku gaped at the man. “W-what about the police?”

Third’s mouth twisted into a bitter smile. “Back then, police and government only protected people like them. Even if they cared, they had bigger things to deal with. Besides, I learned to deal. After a while, it wasn’t so bad. It was just normal.”

Izuku glanced to the side, not liking how much that sounded like him and Kacchan.

“But then one day I saw some of them cornering a kid. It’s not like I was an adult yet. I was only sixteen, but this was a kid. She couldn’t have been older than eight and they had already lit a match.” Third’s expression went blank, eyes glazed. “That was the first time I ever killed someone.”

Izuku felt his blood freeze. Third pinned him with a stare and spread his arms out, owning every inch of his own personal tapestry of human cruelty. 

“I get it, kid. I won’t judge. The specifics can stay between you and me.”

Third looked so sincere. At that moment, Izuku wasn’t seeing a villain who had laughed at his escape: he was just someone who had been hurt over and over again for no real reason.

With shaking hands, Izuku took off his shirt.

He closed his eyes and waited for the mocking laughter, the scoffs that he was weak. But when nothing came, Izuku carefully peeled open his eyes to see Third looking at him–not with disgust or pity–but understanding.

Third saw the ugly, white, splotchy scars covering Izuku's shoulders and abdomen and accepted him.

"You're a survivor, kid," he said, "Like me and everyone else here."

A sob hitched in Izuku's chest, and he collapsed onto his knees. A broken, desperate wail broke from his lips. No one had ever told him that before, had seen the pain Izuku suffered and acknowledged it.

Loud feet slammed on wooden floors, and the bedroom door slammed open, revealing All Smite gripping the door handle so tightly that it crumpled in his grasp.

"What happened!" he demanded. "Third, you said you would handle this!"

Third raised his hands in mock surrender. "I didn't do anything. He just needed a moment."

All Smite turned to Izuku and knelt on the floor, his hand hovering above Izuku's shoulder. "My bo–" he began before cutting himself off. "Ah, are you alright? You're not hurt? Are you okay?"

Another sob hiccupped out, and Izuku curled deeper into himself. "I- I- I'm fi-fine."

"You don't seem fine."

"Toshinori, he's okay. He's not hurt or anything. He's simply having a needed realization."

Izuku buried his head into the wooden floor, feeling his curls flop around his ears. "My so- ah, no... um, kid. Are, are these your scars?" His warm hand grazed over the puckered scars on Izuku's shoulders.

Izuku shuddered, "Yes."

All Smite paused, and when he spoke, his voice was heavy with emotion. "I knew you were a fighter the moment I saw you, but now I know for sure."

The words penetrated a tender, aching part of Izuku's heart that had never healed. He gasped at the pain and collapsed into a torrent of tears. He couldn't stop them, despite his previous declaration that he wouldn't cry. His eyes grew swollen, and his nose stuffed as he cried and cried.

Why hadn't he heard these words before? Why did it take a villain to validate his pain?

Warm arms encircled him, pulling him up onto All Smite's lap.

"My little fighter," the villain murmured, rubbing a hand up and down Izuku's back. "So fierce, strong, and resilient."

Izuku buried his face in All Smite's shirt, letting the cloth soak up his tears and hide his face. He didn't struggle as the villain picked him up and walked him back to the living room. He didn't hear the other villains' gasps or murmurs or feel their comforting touches. Izuku stayed limp as All Smite sat him down on the couch and snuggled close, draping a blanket over Izuku's shivering body.

"My little fighter," the villain kept murmuring, hand carding through Izuku's hair.

Someone turned a movie on, some old action movie from the pre-quirk era. The sounds of screeching cars and firing guns washed over Izuku, turning into numbing background noise as he sat mourning.

The thought, I'm not weak, pulsed in Izuku's head.

No one had called him strong. For all of his family’s love, they never understood Izuku’s desire to prove himself. Every mention of wanting to be a hero was gently discouraged or ignored. 

Izuku sniffled. Maybe it was his fault; he had never explicitly stated that he needed that validation or honestly said how desperately he needed someone to believe in his dreams.

Izuku's head nodded in exhaustion. The crying and stress were exacting their toll on him. A warm hand cupped Izuku's cheek. "You okay there?"

"M'tired," he muttered.

"I can tell. You haven't been up very long, but I suppose it has been a long past couple of days."

Arms cradled Izuku, lifting him and tilting his head to rest on a broad shoulder. "Nana and the others finished setting up your room. We can let you rest in there; that way you can take a break from the handcuffs."

Izuku's body rocked back and forth, and his eyes fluttered with the soothing sensation. Words murmured close to his ear, Izuku's understanding fluctuating in and out.

"-clothes are already in there, and the bed is set up. You should be able to sleep and do your things unbound, which will be nice, hmm?"

Izuku hummed in agreement, and the chest he rested against rumbled in a chuckle.

"Let's get you in bed."

A door creaked open, and Izuku's head flopped as they stepped down a set of stairs.

"-nice and safe, and you can always customize it."

Izuku drifted farther away, but the screeching sound of metal sliding open jolted Izuku, his eyes flashing open in alarm.

"It's okay, it's okay," a deep voice soothed, a hand patting a soothing rhythm on his back. "Go back to sleep."

Izuku's brow furrowed. It wasn't okay, something wasn't OK, but he didn't know why. Not when he was so warm and wrapped in a soft blanket.

Lips pressed against Izuku's forehead, and then he was falling into deep softness, cradled in blankets and pillows.

"Sleep well," the deep voice whispered as Izuku fell into an exhausted rest.

 


 

Toshinori let his hands briefly rest against the vault door, taking a moment to calm his heart.

Seeing his chosen like this was difficult. Before meeting his boy, he’d knew there would be challenges, but nothing like scars on soft skin. 

The second those teary green eyes had stared him down, admitting to being quirkless but unwilling to be moved, he’d known the boy was meant to be with them. However, now he couldn’t help but imagine what would have happened if he hadn’t found him then. Would his son have even more scars than he’d just seen?

“I’m a nobody, a Deku…”

He shook his head, walking back up the stairs before he impulsively left a hole in one of the walls. Imagining how the world had treated his boy would not benefit anybody. What was important was that he was here now—safe with the family that could mend him.

Seeing the light on in his mother’s room, he gently knocked before opening the door further. Nana was settled in her rocking chair, bright eyes glancing to meet him before smiling wide.

 “Toshi! Come in! Has he settled alright in his room?”

“I don’t think he’s really taken it in yet, we’ll have to ask him what he thinks tomorrow.” Toshinori glanced at the book in her hands and instantly colored. “Mother, you’re going through that again?”

She giggled, gesturing for him to come over. 

“Now that I have a sweet grandson, it’s reminding me of your early days here as well! And we’ll need to start compiling his photos too.” She cooed, turning the album to face him. “Look at this- you both make the same face!”

Sighing, Yagi took the album from her, looking down at the slightly faded photographs.

The first one was of him, decades younger, in a blue seifuku. His hair was disheveled, and he was tied to a chair while glaring fiercely at the camera. His right cheek was swelling—he remembered fighting Mom viciously when she’d first taken him under her wing.

Another picture featured Nana with her signature grin and Toshinori clearly caught mid yell as he was held back by Banjo. The next photo had Toshinori curled on his bed when the vault was decorated as his room, refusing to look at the camera.

The following several pages all seemed to be various examples of him being upset: Toshinori glaring at the camera, Toshinori’s figure blurred as he fought with his family, Toshinori looking miserable as his family tried to help him understand.

It wasn’t until the fifth page that he found one with happier connotations. Nana had taken it on the sly; First and Toshinori, sitting quietly together on the couch. Yoichi held Toshinori’s hand; his gentle expression caught on forever while Toshinori, still bruised and looking worse for wear, held a small smile on his face.

“It was so hard watching you go through those first few weeks.” Nana sidled next to him, watching as the pictures gradually began to show newspaper clippings of All Smite’s accomplishments, his infamy. “In the end, though, it was all worth it. And it will be with your little fighter too.”

Toshinori shook his head, rueful. “For all the scares he’s given me so far, I think you had it worse. I was determined to see you all as my enemies. At least for my son, he’s craving the support we can more than provide.”

Nana rested her head against his broad shoulder. “Oh, he’s certainly sweeter than you were. He’s sensitive, like En and Yoichi. But I think he’s got your spirit. That more than anything tells me that he’s the perfect choice.” She gave him a soft peck on the cheek. “I’m proud of you, Toshi. One for All was meant to be with your boy; I can feel it.”

 

Notes:

Preview:
Hisashi wished he could sweep her off her feet and tell her that Izuku was walking through the door now. That he was safe and sound, that All Smite and the others had been arrested and were going to spend the rest of their extended lives in prison. He wished he could give his wife something that would reassure her that her child was safe.

“We were able to narrow down some possible locations,” he told her instead. “Twice’s clones are scouring everywhere as we speak, and everyone in the team plus any hero who has the time is searching. We’ll find him, Inko, I promise.”

Chapter 9: Respite

Summary:

Hisashi turns to the one place where he can lay down his burdens: at home with his wife.

Meanwhile, Dabi does some investigating.

Notes:

Hey y'all!

Hope you enjoy this next chapter, we had a lot of fun developing Inko and Hisashi! So glad y'all liked the last chapter, we can tell the family of villains is getting in everyone's heads!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

It was well past midnight when Hisashi came home, but all of the lights were on. Mt. Lady was stationed outside the apartment door and briefly told him that Mitsuki had stopped by and stayed with his wife all day before going home, maybe an hour before Hisashi arrived. Hisashi thanked the hero, who resumed her guard post until Death Arms would come to take her place.

Inko was sitting at the table and stood up and rushed to the door as soon as she heard him come in.

“Any news?” she asked as Hisashi shrugged off his shoes.

Hisashi wished he could sweep her off her feet and tell her that Izuku was walking through the door now. That he was safe and sound, that All Smite and the others had been arrested and were going to spend the rest of their extended lives in prison. He wished he could give his wife something that would reassure her that her child was safe.

“We were able to narrow down some possible locations,” he told her instead. “Twice’s clones are scouring everywhere as we speak, and everyone in the team, plus any hero who has the time, is searching. We’ll find him, Inko, I promise.”

Inko didn’t say a word. She threw her arms around Hisashi and buried her face into his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her. He could hear her muffled sobs as they stood in the entryway of their home, and all he could do was hold her and kiss her, even though that wasn’t what she needed. What she needed—what both of them needed- was for Izuku to be home.

But for all of Hisashi’s abilities, all of his connections, it still felt at times like they wouldn’t have been close to finding Izuku had it not been for Oboro’s discovery. And still, even narrowing it down to three possible cities was a daunting task to take on. He knew how good his brother was at hiding. Hisashi could find some quirk to make time stand still, go door to door in every building, and his brother would still find some way to slip past him.

Hisashi couldn’t afford that, especially not now. Not with Izuku at stake.

“So we still don’t know,” Inko whispered. “We still don’t know where he took my baby?”

“We will find him,” Hisashi promised her. “Izuku is one of the strongest people I’ve met in the last two hundred years. Tomura and I will bring him home, Inko, I swear.”

Inko was visibly fighting her tears as she nodded, but her hold on her husband had not fallen away. Hisashi glanced over her head and found their home as it had been when he had left for work the day before. A beautiful, homey place, courtesy of Inko’s eye for decoration, always filled with laughter and fond memories. A place full of life, thanks to his angel of a wife and his beloved stepson.

Now it just seemed so empty. As if even the apartment sensed that someone was missing and would not be complete until he was back.

Inko pulled back and looked guiltily at the kitchen table. Hisashi followed her gaze, and his heart sank a little when he saw the untouched katsudon waiting there.

“I just…” Inko murmured helplessly. “All I could think about was that he might show up any minute. I wanted to have it ready for him, just in case. I know it’s silly but….”

She trailed off helplessly and quickly moved to make him a bowl. Hisashi could see her shoulders shaking as she put the food in the microwave, muttering something about how it was cold now.

Hisashi wasn’t sure if he could actually eat, but he could tell just moving and performing this simple task was something for her to do rather than sit still and feel the panicked emotions they had both been experiencing all day.

Hisashi sat down with a sigh, hating himself as he did. Part of him was screaming at him to get back up, to kiss his wife, then walk back out the door and not return until Izuku was at his side.

But another part of him knew that right at this moment, this was where he needed to be.

For both his and Inko’s sake. Because if neither of them processed what they were feeling, he would never be able to keep moving forward, and he had to keep pushing for Izuku.

“I’m so sorry,” he breathed.

Somehow, Inko caught his words and was at his side once more, the food completely forgotten.

“For what?” she asked.

Hisashi tried to reel in the weakness he felt. He didn’t want his wife to see how scared, how afraid, how guilty he was, not when she was already terrified. He tried to put on a facade of iron, that he had nothing but a single-minded focus to rescue Izuku and no, not even an ‘and’ there. All Smite didn’t matter if it meant Izuku was safe.

But this was Inko. His wife, his partner, the woman who loved him despite all of his flaws. His refuge, his home. If he couldn’t be honest and open with her, he might as well go back to those years when he was on his own. Before he found Tomura. Before he met Inko. When he was all alone, with nobody to help him as he fought his brother’s family.

“This is my fault. I should have protected him better. I- no, I never should have gotten either of you involved. I’ve always known what sort of person my brother is. If I had just stayed away, none of this would have happened. Izuku would be—”

He was cut off when Inko cupped his face in her hands and gently turned him to face her. Her beautiful eyes were diamond-hard in their need to make him listen to her, and her jaw set in determination. Once again reminding Hisashi that Izuku’s strength was always from Inko. That his wife and his son were the strongest people he knew.

“This was not your fault, Hisashi!” she exclaimed. “This was them. Don’t try to blame yourself, not now. Blame the people who took our son.”

“But my brother-” Hisashi protested, but Inko cut him off with a look.

“Doesn’t know that Izuku is your stepson,” Inko finished. “You’ve told me a lot about the kind of person your brother is. If this was a way to attack you or hurt you, would he have left some sort of message to brag about it by now?”

Hisashi paused, thinking it through. She was right.

Whenever Yoichi had done something to hurt Hisashi or prove a point, a message soon followed. Some sort of boast, some sort of challenge, some way to twist the knife deeper. He always did it without fail, and he trained his successors to do the same. Because when it came from the hands of the children Hisashi had failed to save, it only made things worse.

The only time his brother and his “family” were silent and avoided getting Hisashi’s attention was when the next successor had been taken, and they vanished off of the face of the earth to induct the child into their group.

“You’re right…” he admitted.

“And if they knew about your family, why haven’t they gone after Tomura?” Inko continued. “You said he’s the grandson of All Smite’s predecessor. If they knew who we were, they wouldn’t have just taken Izuku; they would have taken Tomura too. They don’t know who Izuku is, Hisashi. This was not your fault."

She met his eyes, silently telling him not even to try contradicting her.

"So don’t you dare blame yourself. And don’t you dare say that you should have stayed away from us. I knew what I was doing when I married you. Izuku chose you to be his father. You didn’t just choose us; we chose you and Tomura.”

Hisashi stared at his wife and slowly began to relax in her arms. He said nothing as she wiped away the tears from his eyes. She had always told him it was okay to cry because it meant that he needed help, and she would be there to help him.

“When did you last eat?” she asked quietly, looking him over. “Or change your clothes? Or sleep?”

Hisashi looked away, which was enough of an answer for her. They both knew he hadn’t done any of those things since Firefly’s call. It felt wrong to do those things while Izuku was trapped, scared, and alone with Yoichi, All Smite, and the others.

“What if something happens while I’m asleep, and I’m too late to save him?”

Inko gripped his hand, and he could tell it was to anchor herself as much as it was to comfort him.

“You won’t be,” she said as if stating an absolute fact. “I’ll wake you if your team calls. You can’t fight All Smite half-asleep and hungry, and I won’t lose anybody to your brother or his followers. Not my Izuku, not Tomura, not you.”

Hisashi believed every word. It was because of that that he was able to make himself eat, shower, and collapse on his bed with his wife looking over him.

It only felt like minutes later that he woke up to his phone ringing. He sat up and answered without hesitation while Inko’s eyes shined with blatant hope. 

“This is All For One.”

“We’ve found something!” Spinner declared, not bothering to greet him. “His school uniform turned up in a dumpster in the middle of Hosu. No blood or anything that says he’s been hurt. Twice is already combing the area now.”

Finally, something! Some other lead at last…

“Get Loud Cloud to lead an aerial search with Hawks, see if anyone left a trail,” he ordered, sitting up and quickly changing into the clothes Inko set out for him. “Contact the police, get them in on the search as well. Have the entire city on the lookout for All Smite. I’m on my way.”

Inko was already at his side, a cup of coffee and bento box assembled and handed him his shoes. He knew he didn’t have to say anything; she already knew they had a lead.

“You said the family tries to brainwash their successors, right?” she asked. “Make them into villains?”

He nodded. There was no point in trying to hide it from her to soften the blow. She needed him to tell her honestly what would happen to their son so that she could be prepared for the worst.

“Then they made the wrong choice with our son,” she stated. “Izuku wants to be a hero more than anything. He’s one of the strongest people in the world. Even with us never encouraging him as much as we should have, he has never let anything get in the way of achieving that dream. He won’t give into them, Hisashi.”

Hisashi kissed her one last time.

“I’ll find him, Inko. I swear, I will find Izuku and bring him home.”

 


 

Mirio had arrived at Hosu with the others, but they seemed reluctant to let him in on the case. It made sense. Heroes wouldn’t want to risk the bright future of a student by throwing his life away going up against All Smite. Even if it would be the intelligent thing to do. Hey, another body just meant more evidence. Gotta be practical! That was what Sir always said.

As he thought of his mentor, a smile bloomed on his face. It didn’t go unnoticed.

“What’s got you so happy?” Dabi grumbled.

Mirio pretended to startle, acting like he hadn’t noticed the man enter their temporary base at Hosu. “Just thinking of someone who means a lot to me. This is scary stuff. If something happens, I want to have taken the time to think about them.”

The man’s gaze softened as though he’d done something similar. Interesting, maybe the mysterious Dabi had a family after all. Something to note for the future if Mirio ever needed blackmail.

“Don’t worry, kid, you’re staying far away from the action,” Dabi reassured. “The two of us are going to just look around the area. Maybe talk to a few people. Keep it subtle, y’know?”

Mirio couldn’t help his pout. He was here to gather information, but they just kept sidelining him again and again. Paperwork that had nothing to do with the case, carrying things between rooms, getting lunch—they didn’t trust him yet. Part of it was because Sandman hated him. Mirio wasn’t really sure why, but it was something that would have to be addressed soon.

“Hey, I know investigative work like this isn’t exactly as exciting as fighting a villain,” Dabi explained, “But it’s necessary to learn to. You’ll be another caped crusader hanging with the best of them in no time.”

Mirio gave him a blinding smile. “Thank you, sir.”

“Don’t call me sir, it makes me feel old. You can just stick with Dabi.”

The cop started walking off and gestured for Mirio to follow. Good thing he had the foresight (Hah, foresight!) to already have his hero costume on. Maybe this would be the mission that would impress Sir enough to earn him a villain costume and let him stop playing hero. His mentor had promised him the act would end someday when Mirio had proved himself. 

Sir had been there for him through all his ups and downs. He’d saved him as a kid. He’d comforted him when Mirio found out he couldn’t end permeation while phasing through someone and damage them. Instead, he just got pushed back. Very disappointing, but Sir was the one with the foresight (Hah, again, he was on a roll.) to see how this could be utilized. And now, he had to find information on the hero’s movements to repay the person who meant everything to him.

Dabi looked tired, stressed, and liable to let more slip than he probably should. Well, the drug Mirio slipped him would also help loosen his tongue a bit, but not enough to be noticeable. And what hero student wouldn’t be curious about all this? “I can’t believe I get to work at the All for One’s agency. It’s such a great opportunity. I just wished it was during happier times.”

“It’s always hard when a kid goes missing.”

Mirio nodded along, pulling upon years of lessons on mimicking emotions to bring concern to his eyes. “And it’s amazing how much All for One cares, even for someone he doesn’t know. Not all heroes are like that.”

Dabi huffed. “Yeah, he’s like that, but one of the reasons this case is so much harder is because it is personal.”

Oh. Now he was getting to the good stuff. Dabi stiffened. Mirio took up an innocently curious expression rather than the smirk he so wanted to make. Clearly, this was something he wasn’t supposed to know.

“You weren’t really supposed to know that. Hopefully, I can trust you to keep your mouth shut about this?”

“Of course,” Mirio easily lied. “I just want to help. But if All for One knows something about Midoriya that could help the heroes find him, shouldn’t he tell everyone?”

Dabi shook his head. “It doesn’t work that way. Listen, you can’t repeat any of us.”

“I would never.”

“Midoriya is All for One’s stepson.”

Oh. Oh. This was what he was after. Sir would want to know as soon as possible. “I didn’t even know he had a family.”

“That’s how he wanted it. All Smite would do anything to hurt him, so the boss kept his family a secret.”

Mirio was about to respond when he saw the flash of metal coming at him. Instinctively, he phased through the ground, angling himself to come up near where the knife had come from. When he resurfaced, he vaguely noted the sound of gunshots. That must be Dabi.

Most of his focus was on the villain in front of him. Mirio grinned.

“Kid, get away from here! That’s the hero killer!”

And it was. Stain stood before him, drawing a katana in one smooth motion.

“Don’t be stupid. I already called for backup, and this won’t help us find Midoriya,” Dabi called again, gun still trained on the Hero Killer. Of course, the man would be unable to shoot without hitting Mirio, just as intended.

Something flickered in Stain’s expression. “I didn’t come here to kill you. I want you to deliver a message. Tell Sandman his day of judgment is coming.”

Mirio was disappointed as the man ran off. A real villain would have made a kill. Still…

“I’m going after him.”

“Kid, wait!”

 


 

Dabi didn’t feel good. Something was wrong. He wasn’t an idiot. Back in his younger days, before All for One had found him, he’d used. He knew what it felt like to be under the influence of a substance. But he would never break his sobriety. Someone was messing with them.

Still, all of these concerns were thrown out the window the moment the Hero Killer appeared. And that idiot student chased after him.

Dabi had worked on many cases. Kidnappers, villains, serial killers, he’d come to be able to predict movements based on his past experiences. If a killer was being chased by a hero student, they’d want to lose them. Dabi knew just what streets he would take in Hosu to accomplish that.

So he took a shortcut instead of following after them. He got there just a little after Lemillion did. For some reason, he didn’t jump in. Instead, something told him to hide and watch.

So Dabi watched the Hero Killer pocket a card of some sort. He watched Lemillion let the man go.

Maybe the kid was frozen in fear, but Dabi didn’t think so. Something else was going on here. Still, it would be best not to say or do anything until he had proof. There was a big difference between the word of a cop and the word of a hero.

So Dabi made his breathing ragged and sprinted up to the kid, pretending to have just arrived.

“I’m sorry, Dabi, I lost him.”

 

Notes:

Sneak Peek

"But of all the options out there, you chose him?! When my Mirio exceeds him in every category!"

Toshinori crossed his arms. "Your Mirio. Not mine. My son is mine for a reason, and I could not have chosen better."

Pride crept into his voice as he talked. "He's a fighter with a determination which knows no bounds. I found him when he tried to stop me from killing a hero. When I took him away, he fought back, managing to wound me with a bite. He is my son."

Chapter 10: Divulge

Summary:

Nighteye reveals some valuable information, and Izuku explores his new room.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Toshinori dipped his steel enforced paintbrush in the number 9, brilliant green paint, and searched for the coordinating number on his canvas. The spot was small, but Toshinori deftly painted in the section. The dark green was bright against the plain canvas, and Toshinori could already see how beautiful the paint-by-numbers would be by the time he finished. Towering mountains, blooming flowers, and trees the color of his son's hair.

Toshinori's fingers twitched, feeling the urge to grab his phone and pull up the app that allowed him to access the cameras in his son's room. But no, he forced himself to dip the paintbrush back in the paint.

It was essential to give the boy space and allow him to explore his new surroundings without his family leaning over his shoulder.

But that didn't mean Toshinori had to like it.

"Toshinori," Second called, leaning over the kitchen table where Toshinori sat working, "what's with the look? Thought you liked your painting stuff."

Toshinori smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I usually do. I just…"

"Thinking about your kid?"

"Yeah."

Second sighed, rubbing his forehead. 

"You kids are always like this every time you bring someone home. Absolutely obsessed,” he rolled his eyes. "The brat will be fine for a little bit longer. Besides, you've got a guest."

"Really?" Toshinori cleaned off his paintbrush and set it down next to the canvas. "And who is it?

"Nighteye."

The informant was already seated on the living room couch, his hands clasped together and legs crossed primly over his lap.

Toshinori smiled, striding across the room to shake his hand. "Sasaki! What brings you here? Has your informant been able to learn more about Sandman and All for One?"

Nighteye adjusted his glasses, "Yes, Mirio was able to gain some valuable information that I believe your whole family would benefit from hearing."

"Oh, really?!"

"Yes." Nighteye was as abrupt and formal as ever, but there was a slight tick in his forehead not usually there.

"I'll get them immediately."

It was easy enough to round up the family. With the heroes on high alert, no one had ventured out. It wouldn't be safe until Izuku was fully integrated into their unit.

"Alright, Nighteye," Toshinorii said, once the family was all together, "What have you managed to learn?”

"My informant and protégé, Mirio, has found information that I believe you will find quite enlightening. Interestingly enough, it is centered on the child you've brought in, Iz–"

"NO!" the family yelled in unison, cutting Nighteye off.

"You can't tell us," Diagoro complained. "We've got to hear it from the kid."

At Nighteye's baffled expression, Third spoke up. "It's part of the welcoming process. If we really wanted, we could pull up a news report and learn the kid's name or hack the commission's files and figure out his background info. But we don't because we want to hear it from him."

"It's a part of him learning that he can trust us," Nana added.

Nighteye's mouth pinched together. "So, you don't even know his name." He rolled his eyes, "I can't believe with all your option you chose some stubborn bra–"

"Be careful, Sasaki," Toshinori growled. "I won't hear you speak of my son that way."

"But of all the options out there, you chose him?! When my Mirio exceeds him in every category!"

Toshinori crossed his arms. "Your Mirio. Not mine. My son is mine for a reason, and I could not have chosen better." Pride crept into his voice as he talked. "He's a fighter with a determination that knows no bounds. I found him when he tried to stop me from killing a hero. When I took him away, he fought back, managing to wound me with a bite. He is my son.”

Nighteye flew to his feet. 

"He will be your downfall!" he declared.

"He is my son!"

"No!" Nighteye snapped. "He's not! He's the stepson of All for One!"

The words shut Toshinori up faster than a slap in the face. The floor tilted under his feet, and he resisted the urge to reach out for Nana to steady him. The desire to grab his phone and look at the cameras trained on Izuku was unbearable.

Yoichi stood up from his armchair, eyes covered by his white bangs. "All for One?" he asked. "My brother?"

Nighteye adjusted his glasses. "Yes, and Sandman's adopted brother. That's why they've been so anxious to get him back."

Yoichi's shoulders shook as a hysterical laugh broke out. He hacked into his fist, unable to control the mirth wracking his body. The others eyed him carefully as their leader laughed harder and harder.

"Oh, oh," he gasped between laughs. "That's so good. My brother's son—without even knowing!"

Second, snorted. "No wonder he's so much trouble."

Yoichi shook his head. "I thought you had made a good choice, Toshi, but this," he gestured to Nighteye, "Is perfect. He's absolutely perfect."

"HE'S YOUR NEMESIS'S SON!" Nighteye roared. "How is this a good thing?! You need to kill him or get rid of him or whatever. But do not keep him and do not give him One for All!"

Toshinori's lips curled back, "Is this what that's about?"

"I've given you a perfect option." Nighteye spat. "I raised him to be your successor myself. And you reject him for, for…" his mouth flapped, as if unable to articulate his rage, "for this hero's brat who will never reach your level of greatness."

The restraint Toshinori had been holding onto snapped. "Get out."

Nighteye blinked. "What?"

Toshinori bared his teeth, spittle flying as he spoke. "Get. Out. Before I smash your brains in. I will not abandon my son. He's mine and no one else. And one day, he will outshine me and everyone else before me. So, get out. Now."

Nighteye's face paled, unused to being the object of Toshinori's fury. "Fine," he said, blustering through a scoff, "may it be on your head. I'll have Mirio continue to spy, but I wash my hands of this."

Without another word, he brushed off his suit and stalked to the entrance, slamming the door behind him.

With Nighteye gone, the rage that had been fueling Toshinori disappeared. He sagged, rubbing his brow.

Nana floated up, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

"Toshi, Toshi, sweetie. It's okay," she whispered.

"He's my son, mom. Mine," his voice cracked at the end, and Nana hugged him.

"I know, I know."

Yoichi spoke up, "He's yours now, Toshi." His eyes glinted. "And no matter what my brother does, it's going to stay that way.

 


 

Izuku jolted away, chased into awareness by dreams of handcuffs and scars and giant men with huge smiles. Groaning, he rolled into his pillow and buried his face in its softness, trying to block out the residual panic. With a yawn, he stretched, working away the stiffness in his arms and legs.

It felt so good to not be handcuffed, he thought sleepily, then stopped mid-stretch and moved his arms back down. "I'm not handcuffed," he whispered, realization dawning on him, and he threw himself out of bed.

No handcuffs meant an opportunity for escape.

His head whipped around looking for All Smite and his family members but found no one. Izuku was alone, and his heart raced at the realization. Since being snatched, he had only been left alone once, right when he made his first escape attempt. This solitude was a valuable opportunity.

He quickly surveyed the room. It was small but large enough to fit a twin bed, desk, and dresser. A small entryway was on his right, and peering in, he noted a bathroom complete with a sink, toilet, and shower. It was meant to hold him for a while, he realized uneasily.

But his anxiety crescendoed into a panic when he looked for an exit and saw an ugly, steel rectangle where a door should be.

Oh no, he thought. His hands wandered over the smooth steel, noting how there were no gaps between the door and the wall or any handle. It wasn't meant to open from the inside.

"No," he whispered, then slammed his hand against the door. "No! No! No! NO!"

He sunk to his knees, still banging a fist against the door. He wanted to go home to his family. He didn't want to be trapped. He had a better chance of escaping his handcuffs with his lockpick than this room.

Wait, his lockpick.

Izuku paled and frantically patted down the dark pants. Turning the pockets inside out, Izuku was forced to admit that he had forgotten his tool in his gakuran. He had been so worked up and upset that he had completely forgotten about it when he went to change.

Izuku slammed his head against the metal door. How could he be so stupid?! The tool wouldn't be much of help escaping this room, but still, to have let a valuable tool slip away without a thought. He was ashamed of himself.

"I'm so stupid," he muttered. "So, so stupid."

He was letting them get into his head, make him self-conscious about his scars, and let his guard down when they showed the slightest compassion. It was pathetic, and it was ruining his chances of escape.

He glared at the door and the cameras' positions in the corners to watch him. "I don't want to be here!" he yelled, unsure if his words were for the villains or his own benefit. "I'm going to escape and go back home, and I won't be a villain!"

His yells echoed in the room, distorted and mocking.

"It's fine," Izuku told himself, pressing his thumbs into his eyes. 

He could go home, but he needed to think rationally. With any problem, whether bullies or analyzing a quirk, you gathered details and then planned, starting small and then working up.

First, he needed to observe his surroundings and determine any resources. This step was painfully quick, as the room was depressingly bare. But Izuku did find the clothes Gran Torino brought over folded in the dresser.

He slipped on a white t-shirt, the least villainous top he could find. Some of the outfits were frankly ridiculous, looking like a cosplay, with spikes, tears, and what he hoped were fake blood splatters. He passed them all over and kept on the same, comfortable black pants he had first changed into. 

With his surroundings explored and no tools found, all Izuku could do was wait.

He sank onto his knees, running through the meditation sequence his dad had taught him. He needed to stay calm and composed. No matter what, he couldn't let the villains get to him. No matter how nice they were about his scars, they had still kidnapped him and locked him in this room.

Anger curled in Izuku's stomach, and he fanned the flames of his anger, trying to burn away any surprise or care, or softness he felt towards the villains. He was mad, and he deserved to be mad.

When the door finally creaked open, and All Smite walked in looking harried and stressed, Izuku gave him his dirtiest glare. 

"What do you want?" he spat.

All Smite startled at the boy’s tone, having previously seen him lulled into a relaxed sleep, the villain was not expecting this attitude. “Is everything alright m– did something happen?”

Clenching his teeth, Izuku stood up, hand gesturing widely. “What is this?”

The villain blinked, baffled. “Why, your room! I think you were too tired to take it in earlier, but Nana and the others worked hard to put it toge–”

“This isn’t a room, this is a VAULT!” Izuku heaved in a breath, realizing his temper was ruining any work his earlier meditation had accomplished. “I won’t stay here! Let me out!”

Yagi moved to further block the door, palms outstretched. “What’s wrong with it? I thought you would have felt relieved to not need the restraints, to have a chance to move about your room.”

“If I had woken up in a room without restraints, that would be amazing. All you did was expand how I was caged!” Izuku briefly thought back to the moment he’d had with them before, feeling strangely loved. “You keep talking about wanting me to be family, but families don’t do this to each other! I don’t want to keep being your prisoner! I want to go home to my real family and my real dad!”

That was apparently the wrong thing to say. All Smite stood straighter, his expression warning. “How can someone who lets you be bullied and hurt be a father worth going home to? Your place is here, with this family, and if you could just see that, there would be no need to feel so upset! I want to be a good father to you, my boy. I will be! Please, if you just give me a chance to prove–”

But Izuku was already shaking his head, backing away. “You’re a villain, and want me to be one too, even if that’s not what I want. You don’t care how I feel at all!” he crossed his arms defensively. “And a real father doesn’t have to lock their children up just to make them stay.” Why, why couldn’t he get through to him? “None of you will ever be my family.”

While he had been speaking his mind more than anything, Izuku saw his words had hit their target. The man’s warning expression melted to hurt. 

“Little one…” he reached out beseechingly. “I, I do care. And it’s only temporary. I know, if you give it some time…”

A frail hand settled on the giant’s shoulder, cutting him off.

“Toshinori.” Yoichi looked up at him from under his hairline, eyes gentle. “It’s alright. Everyone takes time to adjust. We both know he’s not going anywhere.” 

The man turned to regard the boy in question. “I’d like to talk with our little fighter here alone, for just a moment?”

Izuku stiffened, the urge to argue further settling on the tip of his tongue. But instead, he took in All Smite’s dejected posture and turned away, stomping towards the bed. They did not get to make him feel bad for them! All Smite did not get to guilt him into behaving!

Hearing the vault door shut, he turned to see Yoichi had been left in the room with him, gaze appraising. He couldn’t help but hunch further into himself, uncomfortable. In the beginning, the Yoichi had honestly seemed like the safest one to get to know. ‘First’ had been open, encouraging, and kind in his own deranged way. But the look in his eyes now was different, possessive, if Izuku had to put a name to it.

Letting out a soft sigh, the elder walked over, passing him to sit with a soft ‘plop’ onto the bed frame. Looking up to the younger with a smile, he patted the spot next to him invitingly.

Feeling there was no good reason to remain standing, the middle schooler sat with a huff, refusing to look the man in the eye.

Yoichi seemed to take this in stride, moving to clasp his hands. 

“I heard a bit of what you said to Toshi just now. About how you’ll never see us as your family.” 

He leaned back, careful. 

“You know, I’m the founder of our little group. I can tell you right now, most of us didn’t have anybody to miss when they joined. My chosen and his had lost their families in the early wars- Banjo’s mother had abused him, and Toshi had been an orphan.” 

He tilted his head, white hair shifting just enough to catch Izuku’s gaze. 

“It was important to me, that if we find someone worthy, they can recognize us as the people who will support them no matter what.”

No matter what. Izuku bit his lip, turning away. Honestly, the more he learned about the dreaded villain All Smite, the harder it was to truly dislike him, no matter how angry he tried to be. “Well, I’m not an orphan, and I already have a family, and they’d do anything for me! So, you need to convince All Smite I’m the wrong person for all this.”

“Why don’t you tell me about your family. What makes them so wonderful?”

Izuku glanced back at him. Something in his tone felt almost gleeful, dangerous. But when Izuku glanced at Yoichi’s calm expression, he couldn’t help but think, maybe if I can convince him... 

“I have a mom. She works really hard and is always worried about me because of, well, how people treat someone who’s quirkless. And my stepbrother–” 

He paused, wanting to be careful. Surely these villains could find this information themselves (then again, they don’t know my name), but he wasn’t about to reveal his brother’s identity if he could help it. 

“He's been really busy recently, with work. But he’s always been there for me, and he knows how to make me feel better after a bad day. And my dad…”

Yoichi tilted his head, leaning in slightly. “Your birth father?”

Izuku shook his head, feeling a touch warmer just at the memory. “No- I never knew my first father. Mom said he hadn’t wanted to be a family man, and he left us when I was a baby. My stepdad is the only father I’ve ever had.” 

He wrapped his hands around himself, unaware of the eerie green eyes boring into him. 

“He’s amazing. He makes me feel safe like I really can be a h-hero.” he stuttered over that admission, but Yoichi just hummed contently for him to continue. “I don’t get to see him as often as I like anymore. He’s really busy at his work. But I know if I was ever in trouble, I could depend on him.”

“Ah,” A light seemed to go off in Yoichi’s eyes. “It sounds like you trust him a lot, and that you believe he would do anything he could to ensure you were happy and had a good life.”

Izuku gave him a weird look, not liking how he phrased that. “I don’t just believe it. My dad does do those things. And so does my mom, and To– my brother. My family.”

Yoichi’s toothy grin made Izuku’s gut twist with unease, but the man slapped his hands against his legs, standing before the middle schooler could remark on it. “You know, if you were going to be a hero, did you ever consider talking to All for One?”

The change in conversation threw off the captive, and he tilted his head in confusion. “The rescue hero? I mean- he handles the really tough calls, and Tom– my-- I heard he’s super strong…”

“Oh, not just strong.” Yoichi leaned in conspiringly. “Not many people know this, but he got his name as ‘All for One’ because of his original quirk.”

“Original?” Was it possible to have two quirks? Did his quirk change? He knew that some quirks came with physical features but very deviating powers; or a dual quirk that had two corresponding powers. And certain quirks had a habit of evolving over time, but most of those transitions happened alongside puberty, not throughout adulthood or a hero’s career. Also, no one has ever claimed to have more than one quirk as far as Izuku knew-

“You’re right.” Yoichi smiled, tapping his future vestige on the nose. Izuku immediately turned red, realizing he’d been mumbling to himself. “Normally, a person is only ever able to have one quirk. Some quirks have individual diversity, but no person has more than one. However, that hero has a special quirk, one that can give and take others’ quirks. That's why he’s so powerful.”

Izuku felt his stomach drop, disbelieving. “H-He can-? Then that means he could…” If he could meet All for One, if he could escape these deranged villains- would All for One be able to help Izuku become a hero?

“Well,” the man breezed away from him, towards the vault entry. “I can’t imagine someone as ‘well-intentioned’ as All for One denying you. With all his power, why wouldn’t he be able to spare a quirk?” he glanced back towards Izuku, looking all too pleased with himself. “Guess you’d have to meet him, to know for sure. If he saw how amazing you were, the way we see you, there’s no way he’d be able to say no.” 

He gave a sigh, turning back to the door and making three loud raps. “But that’s just a fantasy; All Smite isn’t going to want you near the heroes right now. I suppose we have our work cut out for us if your first family really means that much to you.” 

He paused as if struck with inspiration. Turning back to the child left at the bedside, his grin grew wider. “Actually… that gives me an idea…”

Notes:

Preview:

Izuku hadn’t realized how much he missed being outside. Even if it had only been a few days since he had been taken, the last time Izuku had stepped outside the villains’ home was during his escape attempt out the window. Since then he was kept inside, locked in a vault, with the doors and windows closed to him.

His thrill of being outside of his prison was quickly followed by the realization that if he could get free of his bonds and run, he’d have a better chance of losing All Smite and finding someone who could help him get back home. Before he could form any sort of plan, he was pressed into All Smite as the villain leaped into the air.

Chapter 11: Detonation

Summary:

The family goes on an outing...nothing ominous about that at all

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“Are you alright, little fighter?”

Izuku grunted angrily through the gag and kicked out as hard as he could. He felt his foot collide with All Smite’s side, but All Smite only sighed and hugged Izuku to him a little tighter, as if it would reassure him.

“I know,” he said, patting Izuku. “I know, you don’t like the restraints. We can take off the blindfold and gag when we arrive, alright?”

Izuku responded with another blind kick. He didn’t know what was happening, or why All Smite, Yoichi, and the other villains had taken him out of the vault, only to tie him up, gag, and blindfold him. Any of his muffled questions were silenced when All Smite had picked him up and carried him outside.

Izuku hadn’t realized how much he missed being outside. Even if it had only been a few days since he had been taken, the last time Izuku had stepped outside the villains’ home was during his escape attempt out the window. Since then he was kept inside, locked in a vault, with the doors and windows closed to him.

His thrill of being outside of his prison was quickly followed by the realization that if he could get free of his bonds and run, he’d have a better chance of losing All Smite and finding someone who could help him get back home. Before he could form any sort of plan, he was slung over All Smite's shoulder as the villain leaped into the air.

Izuku remembered all too vividly what had happened the last time he was in this position and hadn’t stopped struggling since. Part of him wondered- hoped- if All Smite had given up and had decided to let Izuku go.

He could tell his words had gotten to All Smite when he was inside the vault. The more time he spent with the villain, the more it seemed that All Smite really saw him as his son in his own, twisted way. If he had gotten through to All Smite- if he had gotten through to Yoichi even- maybe it meant that they were going to let Izuku go back home to his real family.

And maybe while he was dreaming, All Smite would turn himself in, Izuku would spontaneously develop a quirk, and pigs would start flying.

Was this the idea Yoichi was talking about? What were they planning that they would take Izuku outside after being so scared he’d escape if he went out before?

“This is nice,” Nana’s voice came from over the wind. “It’s been a while since we did a family outing together. Or since I’ve been to Hosu, actually. We’re going to have such fun, little fighter, you’ll see.”

Izuku made a noise of protest through the gag and attempted to kick out again, only to be jostled and startled when All Smite finally landed and set Izuku down on his feet. The combination of the bindings, blindness, and disorientation from traveling in All Smite’s arms made it hard to gain his balance, and Izuku found he had to lean up against All Smite just to stay on his feet. Familiar, gigantic hands held him steady as Izuku tried to regain his footing and figure out his surroundings despite the blindfold.

“Easy, my- easy, little fighter,” All Smite soothed. “We are going to meet up over here, come on.”

Izuku stumbled as All Smite began to guide him somewhere, one arm pulling Izuku around, the other supporting Izuku and keeping him from falling. Izuku could hear the sounds of cars and voices, but nothing was close by. It reminded him of the alley he had been taken, with only him to see what had happened to Firefly and her sidekicks.

From the other side of All Smite, he could hear Nana’s voice but no other set of footsteps besides All Smite’s quick strides and Izuku’s shuffling steps as he was half-pushed, half-dragged with the villain. Was she using her quirk to keep up with All Smite and sneak around?

That was actually a very clever way to use Float, now that Izuku thought about it. She could move silently and there would be no trails for anyone to follow her and fewer signs to show if she had broken into somewhere.

No, no he wasn’t going to dwell on that. That was… no, that was too close to how a villain thought.

“Second is planting the explosives around the block,” Nana was explaining. “Hikage will be our sniper across the street with Banjo. He’ll protect Hikage and get us support if we need it. Dad’s going to be close to give us some cover, and I’ll be the eyes in the sky with Third whenever the cop Nighteyes mentioned shows himself.”

“What about Grandpa Yoichi?” All Smite asked.

“Where else?” Nana answered with a small laugh. “Watching everything and making sure the plan goes smoothly. Especially if he shows up.”

Izuku froze.

Explosives? Sniper?

He knew they weren’t going to let him go, and he had suspected they weren’t planning anything good. But he had thought it was going to be something about him, something to convince him that he belonged with them and was meant to become a villain.

But they weren’t talking about making him into a villain. They were planning to kill someone. Kill a lot of people, if Second’s explosives were anything like the ones he used when he was Anarchist. He had always used ones that could take out buildings, powerful enough to get a lot of casualties in the blasts and ensuing destruction.

They were talking about a cop, but Izuku knew that the police officer wouldn’t be the only person who died if they had their way.

Izuku planted his feet against the ground, and as a result, he fell and hit his knees when All Smite continued to push him along, not realizing what Izuku was doing. Both All Smite and Nana gave sounds of alarm at seeing Izuku on his knees, and he felt All Smite moving to lift him up. Izuku threw all of his weight against the ground, refusing to be moved from his spot.

“Little fighter, what-“ All Smite began, only to be cut off by the torrent of curses and protests Izuku shouted through the gag.

He didn’t want this, he didn’t want to be any part of this. All Smite found him when he stopped him from killing someone. Did they really think he’d go along and help them kill? Especially someone like a police officer who helped heroes?

All Smite pulled off the blindfold and Izuku had to blink a few times to adjust to the early evening light around him. They were in an alleyway, not unlike where Izuku had first met All Smite but it was probably just after dark, and Izuku didn’t recognize this area or any of the buildings or street signs around him.

He could only guess they were in Hosu like Nana had mentioned. He could hear the sounds of people close by and even saw a couple of shadows and reflections in the glass. There were still people, maybe just a street over, who could help him if he screamed.

But none of that mattered as he fixed his glare on All Smite who was bending over him. Even in the dim light, he could see the confusion on his kidnapper’s face, and somehow it infuriated Izuku even more.

He had told him. He had told him again and again that he didn’t want to be a villain. Why didn’t he listen to him? Why was he trying to force him into this?

“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” Nana asked, having the gall to sound concerned as she couched down to eye level with Izuku. “Did we scare you with our plan? Sweetie, don’t worry. You’re going to be safe the entire time, I promise.”

Izuku only glared at her as well as he shouted more angry words at the two and shook his head defiantly. Nana glanced at All Smite, looking as lost as he did, only to stiffen and lift her hand to her ear.

“Are you sure?” she asked seemingly no one. “But Toshi might need… well, if you insist, Grandpa Yoichi…”

She straightened up and ruffled Izuku’s hair.

“They want me to go up with Third,” she told All Smite, before looking down at Izuku. “Everything is going to be okay, sweetheart. I promise.”

With that, she floated up and out of view. Neither Izuku nor All Smite watched her go. All Smite looked over Izuku with concern, as if he was scared Izuku had suddenly gotten sick, and Izuku glared back at him, finally going silent. All Smite tugged the gag out of Izuku’s mouth, and Izuku met his own gaze head-on.

It was funny. Maybe for the first time since he had stood between All Smite and Firefly, Izuku actually felt sure of himself. He was still afraid, and still angry. But everything had felt so muddled and strange as these strangers showed him kindness, tried to welcome him to their family in their messed up way, and praised his strength when they saw his scars.

But now that he knew what they were doing, he found he was brave enough to meet All Smite’s gaze, and somehow did not curl up in a ball and beg for mercy.

Tomura would be proud…

“I won’t do it,” he stated. “I won’t become a villain. I won’t help you hurt someone.”

All Smite sighed as he pulled Izuku to his feet. Izuku tried to bite at the hand that held him again, but All Smite quickly pulled his hand away and adjusted his grip to keep well away from Izuku’s teeth.

“I know that you are against the idea, little fighter,” All Smite acknowledged. “And I sincerely believe with time, you’ll see that you have the potential to do more than anyone ever expected of you. But that isn’t what we’re doing tonight.”

Izuku paused.

They… they didn’t want him helping with their plans?

“Then why did you bring me here?” Izuku whispered. His stomach twisted as he glanced around the alley for any sign of the villains making their move or for the police officer the villains seemed to be targeting. But nobody was there. Once again, Izuku was all alone with All Smite.

“To show you that you belong with us, not your old family,” All Smite answered. “And to make sure you realize that leaving us- leaving me- isn’t an option.”

Izuku didn’t like the sound of that. And he also knew that there were people close by, that All Smite didn’t seem to want to hurt him, and he was very clearly in distress if anyone saw him. Without thinking, he twisted out of All Smite’s grip and sank his teeth into the same hand he bit when he was abducted.

All Smite’s gasp seemed to be more out of surprise than pain as he attempted to pry the boy away, blood seeping into Izuku's mouth. He didn’t have to worry. As soon as Izuku felt the tug on his shirt, he turned and spat a mouthful of blood in All Smite’s face.

All Smite paused for a split second, taken aback by what Izuku had just done. And that split second was all that he needed. He writhed in All Smite’s grip like an eel, and broke free, even as he felt his arm bruise from getting loose. He stumbled back but caught himself and sprinted as fast as he could with his hands tied towards shadows and voices so, so close.

“HELP ME!” He screamed at the top of his lungs. “PLEASE, SOMEBODY HELP ME! ALL SMITE IS HERE! HE’S GOING TO HURT ME! SOMEONE HELP ME!”

“Hurt you?”

Izuku cried in frustration as he felt All Smite pull him back. He turned to the villain, only to be caught off guard at the visible pain in All Smite’s blue eyes.

“My boy, I would never-” he gasped. “You know I would never- how could you think that I would do that to you?”

Izuku would not feel guilty. He would not feel guilty for hurting the villain who kidnapped him!

In reply, he opened his mouth and screamed again. To his surprise, All Smite let him scream and struggle, but he never once relinquished his grip on Izuku.

“Unhand the boy, villain!”

Both All Smite and Izuku froze, and Izuku turned to see a tall figure with silver armor standing in the alleyway. Izuku recognized him instantly, and finally, his heart was pounding not with fear, but with hope.

This hero could help him, they could save him!

“All Smite, I won’t say it again!” Ingenium warned. “Release the boy now!”

Izuku waited for All Smite to get angry. He waited for him to get upset that Izuku’s struggles had caught the attention of a hero, or annoyed that a hero was trying to interfere. So when the villain’s hurt expression morphed into a grim smile, and his body tensed like a predator waiting to pounce, alarm bells went off in Izuku’s head.

“The Turbo Hero, Ingenium, right?” All Smite guessed. “Here I thought you were based in Tokyo.”

“Usually, I am,” Ingenium admitted. “Then I heard you had kidnapped a child. I have a brother the same age as him. I had to offer to help. When his uniform showed up in Hosu, we knew we had to be closing in. Looks like now we’ve found you.”

All Smite laughed at this, and the look he gave Izuku made him feel like he was laughing at an inside joke that only he and Izuku knew. He couldn’t tell if Ingenium caught that look or not with his face covered, but he clearly recognized that Izuku was scared.

“It’s going to be okay,” he assured Izuku. “I’m going to get you out of here. Your family is waiting for you.”

All Smite snarled, and Izuku yelped as the villain’s grip tightened possessively, the blood from where he bit All Smite staining the white t-shirt.

Izuku believed he could do it. He believed that the Turbo Hero could rush in, snatch him out of All Smite’s grip, and run away until All Smite and the other villains were long gone, and bring him back to Tomura, Dad, and Mom.

But something was wrong. All Smite seemed ready to attack, but he hadn’t yet. It was almost like he was waiting for something. Some sort of signal maybe?

Nana mentioned the others were in different places in this area. Was it possible All Smite was waiting for one of them to make a move? Or was he waiting for Yoichi to tell him that it was okay to make an attack?

“This child is mine!” All Smite growled. “You and the rest of your hero scum will not take him from me. I chose him, understand? I protect him now. He’s my boy and I will keep him safe until the day he surpasses me.”

“Stop it!” Izuku shouted, squirming against the too-tight grip. “I’m not. Your. Son!”

“I won’t let you leave here with him,” Ingenium declared, crouching down in a running position.

All Smite laughed again as if he wasn’t constantly readjusting his grip to hold onto a struggling Izuku.

“How brave of you,” he noted. “Didn’t you see what I did to the Floating Flame Hero and her team? Unlike her, I won’t spare you for my son.”

“Firefly was a great hero!” Ingenium retorted. “She can’t be one again after what you did to her. And as much as I’d like to bring you to justice for what you did to Firefly, my priority is the safety of Midor-“

Ingenium didn’t get the chance to finish. The very second he began to speak Izuku’s name, the sound of an explosion cut him off, and Izuku could see the light of red, orange, and yellow flames flash past the alleyway, followed instantly by the smell of smoke, ash, and burned flesh. The ground shook but All Smite held him steady as screams followed the explosion, the sounds of shattered glass, concrete landing against concrete, and cars swerving and crashing filled the air.

The bomb , Izuku realized.  Second set off one of his bombs when Ingenium almost said-

“Shouldn’t have tried to say his name,” All Smite muttered, close enough to Izuku’s ear that he could hear him over the rising chaos.

His name? That was it? Second just detonated a bomb, no doubt hurting and killing who knew how many people, because Ingenium had only tried to say Izuku’s name?!

But that meant Second could hear what was going on. That he was watching all of this. And with what Nana said about Hikage as a sniper, her being the “eye’s in the sky,” Yoichi watching everything a safe distance away...

Oh no. No, no, no, please no.

Ingenium hadn’t stumbled onto Izuku and All Smite. The villains had lured him to them. And they had used Izuku to do it.

“Run!” he shouted, holding out hope that the Turbo Hero would listen. “Please you have to run!”

Ingenium only got the chance to look back at Izuku, nothing more. Because right at that moment, Third descended from the sky, spinning and kicking Ingenium in the chest.

The sheer power behind the kick could only be from a quirk as Ingenium was sent flying, his armor dented as he slammed against the brick wall of the building. Izuku heard a window in the building shatter from the impact of the hero hitting the wall.

Meanwhile, the concrete cracked from where Third landed, twirling a long knife in his hand, the blade twisted in a way that almost reminded Izuku of a corkscrew. Unlike All Smite, his posture was completely at ease, wearing thick, dark clothes that looked easy to move in, with some sort of body armor padding his chest. The look in his eyes was almost manic as he smiled at the scene before him.

Izuku remembered what they had told him on his first night when he was strapped in the chair, and Yoichi was telling him of the family’s history.

Third was a serial killer. Right now, he was in his element.

“Here we thought our little fighter would get us a cop,” Third mused. “But he’s already bringing in the heroes. You were right, Nana, he’s going to fool a lot of people someday.”

“Of course I was right,” Nana replied, floating down and landing lightly beside Third. “He is so adorable, who would ever suspect such a precious face?”

The smile she gave Izuku should not have been so proud and warm. Like she was happy that he had lured Ingenium to them. Like he had done a good job acting as bait to lure a hero into their hands. A hero who was trying to help Izuku, who had a family somewhere, a brother.

Just like Izuku had a family somewhere. Just like he had a brother.

“Don’t hurt him!” he begged, struggling against All Smite once again. “Please, he just wanted to help me! I’m the one who tried to run, he was just trying to help me. Hurt me, not him!”

Every one of the adults turned to look at Izuku in horror. As if he had suggested something horrible by asking them to hurt him instead of Ingenium. But he was the one who had lured Ingenium here by trying to run.

If he hadn’t Ingenium wouldn’t be shakily getting on his feet, there wouldn’t be the sounds of screams and sirens, and there wouldn’t be the smell of smoke filling the alley. They set off a bomb because Ingenium almost said his name, but Ingenium wouldn’t be there if Izuku hadn’t shouted for help.

“Little fighter,” All Smite said slowly, bending down so that he was eye level with Izuku. “I’m only going to say this once: we will  never  hurt you. I want to protect you, guide you, and raise you. But I could never hurt my son.”

Nana sighed with disgust and she yanked Ingenium away from the wall, only to shove him away so that he stumbled in the open, clearly still stunned from Third’s kick.

“If being a hero means you ask that you be hurt over someone who deserves it, then believe me you’re better off with us,” Nana stated, hands on her hips. “Look at this man. And he calls himself a hero? He can’t even save himself.”

They were going to kill him. They were going to kill Ingenium just because he came when Izuku called for help. He was going to die and it was all Izuku’s fault.

“Please don’t hurt him,” Izuku pleaded. “I’ll be good. I-I-I won’t run away, I-I won’t fight. I-I-I-“

He needed to say something. Anything. Anything to get them to leave Ingenium alone.

“I won’t become a hero!” he shouted, tears falling down his face. “I won’t become a hero, just let him go!” 

Notes:

Preview:

Yoichi stood in the middle of the alley, arms spread wide. "Why do you always blame me, big brother? If you mean the bombs, then that wasn't me. You know how excited Second can be about practicing his art. And who am I to deny him?"

Several meters away, a masked hero stood in a cracked crater, his black jacket billowing ominously, and a mask covered his mouth and neck. Splashes of red, navy, and white accented a black fitted jumpsuit. However, even from several stories up, Izuku could feel the waves of anger radiating off the hero.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it. Where is the child, Yoichi? The one your follower All Smite took."

Chapter 12: Misconstruction

Summary:

The battle of brothers... Round 1

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

I won’t become a hero!

Just like that. The dream Izuku wanted so badly, the goal he had spent his whole life trying to achieve, was all gone. Up in smoke with the ashes of Second’s bomb, so long as it meant Ingenium could live.

All Smite smiled magnanimously at Izuku, and for a single heartbeat, Izuku thought it worked. He thought he had saved the hero who tried to help him.

“As much as I like hearing this from you,” All Smite said, ruffling Izuku’s hair. “It shouldn’t be to save this scum.”

A red laser dot on Ingenium’s abdomen, and then something fired past the armor and into the hero. Ingenium collapsed instantly as if his legs had suddenly stopped working.

Sniper. Hikage was acting as a sniper.

“NO! No, pl-mph!”

Izuku’s cries were cut off as All Smite secured the gag between Izuku’s teeth. The villain set him down so that he leaned up against the wall, able to watch everything but unable to run or interfere.

“I’m sorry, little fighter,” All Smite said solemnly, and Izuku realized he meant it. “But you have to understand what happens to those who try to separate our family.”

He kissed Izuku’s forehead and wiped his tears, before standing upright. In just a few strides, he made it to the fallen Ingenium.

Izuku couldn’t bear to watch. He closed his eyes and prayed that this nightmare would be over soon, that he could wake up and realize all of this was just a bad dream.

He’d wake up at home, with Mom making breakfast and Tomura stopping by before he went on patrol to show Izuku his new uniform modifications. Heck, he’d even take waking up in the vault if it meant he could escape this hellish dream.

Please, someone. Tomura… Dad… someone, help me, please.

Another deafening explosion sent the ground shaking once more, and Izuku’s eyes opened instinctively as new screams and the smell of smoke filled the air once again.

The villains looked up and Izuku did everything in his power not to think about the blood that was on All Smite’s hands- thisismyfaultallmyfault.

“That’s the signal,” Nana announced. “He’s on his way.”

All Smite nodded, looking over to Izuku even as he lifted his fist to deliver another blow.

“Go with Mom, little fighter,” he said as if Izuku had any other choice. “I’ll see you when all of this is over.”

Izuku didn’t even have the will to protest as Nana scooped him up in her arms and took off to the sky. All he could do was stare at the broken, feebly stirring body of Ingenium.

I’msosorrythisismyfaultI’msorryI’msorry

“Don’t look, little fighter,” Nana murmured, gently pushing Izuku’s head so his gaze was instead on her. “It’s alright, just look at me. Yes, that’s right, everything is okay.”

Izuku couldn’t be comforted by her words. Not when he could see Ingenium’s blood on her clothes.

She flew him through a window several stories up, one that overlooked the alleyway. Yoichi was there waiting, dressed in an outfit that looked eerily similar to the one Izuku had been forced to try on, but with spikes added to the jacket, fingerless gloves, and a holster that held several throwing knives and some sort of handgun. He was putting in some sort of earpiece when Nana set Izuku down, so that his back was against the wall and he couldn’t see out any of the windows.

Like Third, Yoichi was so completely relaxed that it was almost unnerving. His face was serene, as if the sounds and sights of explosions and death were meditative. Izuku would have thought he was about to fall asleep, had it not been for the gleam of anticipation in his eyes.

However, when he saw Izuku, his eyes softened, and he bent down so that he was eye level with Izuku.

“I know, I know it’s scary,” he consoled the boy, wiping away his tears. “I know, you wanted to protect that hero. And I know you’re probably scared that we’ll do this to you if you try to run. I promise you now, we won’t. We’re your family now. We’re going to look out for you.”

Izuku could feel himself hyperventilating as the first villain pressed his forehead against Izuku’s.

“You are safe. You are loved. You are home. And I’m going to keep telling you that until you believe it, alright?”

Izuku sobbed through his gag as Yoichi stood and pressed a finger to his earpiece, saying something Izuku couldn’t hear. The leader of the villain family nodded to Nana as Banjo’s black energy looped around Yoichi, and lifted him like a harness to the window. The man sent one last soft smile to Izuku.

“Everything will be alright, little fighter. I promise.”

With that, Banjo’s quirk lowered Yoichi out of sight.

“Aw, Big Brother, you’re here!” Yoichi’s voice floated through the open window, just as the ground began to shake again, but this time no explosion came with it. As if something— or someone— had just landed in the alley.

“It’s been too long! You don’t write, you don’t call, you never visit. I’ve missed you.”

A second voice responded, almost sounding sad as it did. Izuku felt his heart skip a beat as he recognized who it was.

“Yoichi, what have you done?” 

Izuku gave a muffled cry of horror that Nana completely smothered by slapping a hand over his gagged mouth.

"Shhh, we're to watch only. Understand? Second has several more surprises ready if you make noises and we have to leave."

Izuku frantically nodded, tears flying off his chin. He wouldn't speak. He wouldn't be responsible for any more deaths. Not like Ingenium.

"Good boy." Hoisting Izuku farther up into her arms, Nana floated up and over to one of the corner windows where they could watch the confrontation taking place.

Yoichi stood in the middle of the alley, arms spread wide. "Why do you always blame me, big brother? If you mean the bombs, then that wasn't me. You know how excited Second can be about practicing his art. And who am I to deny him his art?"

Several meters away, a masked hero stood in a cracked crater, his black jacket billowing ominously, and a mask covered his mouth and neck. Splashes of red, navy, and white accented a black fitted jumpsuit. However, even from several stories up, Izuku could feel the waves of anger radiating off the hero. 

"That's not what I meant, and you know it. Where is the child, Yoichi? The one your follower All Smite took."

Izuku flinched, instinctively biting down on his gag. He had thought he recognized his dad's voice, but now he knew for sure. But his dad, his stepfather, wasn't a hero. He couldn't be? No one in the family had told Izuku.

"Recognize him?" Nana whispered. "Just keep watching."

Yoichi scoffed. "The child, really my brother? Could you not be more specific? I swear he had a relation to you, or maybe not."

The hero tensed—one moment he was standing, the next he had Yoichi pinned against the wall, one massive hand wrapped around his neck, the other pinning Yoichi's arms behind his back.

Yoichi chortled, twisting his head awkwardly. "Aww, brother, if you wanted to hug, you could have told me."

"Where's my son, Yoichi? Where is he!?"

"Oh, oh my, you have a son? The great, powerful All for One has deigned himself to consort with the pitiful ordinary folks of this world?"

The air spiked with danger, a predator barely stopping itself from destroying its prey. Izuku trembled, and unthinking, huddled into the arms holding him for safety.

"It's alright.” Nana soothed. “Grandpa Yoichi knows what he's doing."

Metal glinted and slashed, Yoichi rolling out of the pin and skipping across the narrow alley, two knives held crossed over his chest.

"Such a temper, big brother. I had hoped to talk and catch up."

Izuku's dad said nothing, instead, he raised his hand and glowing red and black tendrils erupted from fingertips, chasing after Yoichi's dodging footsteps.

Izuku bit into his gag. He thought his father had fire breath. Izuku had seen him blow out hot puffs of fire for Izuku's amusement. However, the tendrils chasing after Yoichi were some type of emitter or mutation quirk, completely different than fire breath.

Yoichi kicked off the wall, flying in a spinning arc over the pursuing tendrils, slashing at any that came too close.

"I won't say it again, Yoichi. You've crossed a line here. Where is my son?"

"You mean All Smite's son, yes?"

Izuku's dad slammed a hand against the ground, sending out shock waves the pulled the walls up and away, enclosing their fight within the alley. Another arm expanded and bloated before forcing out a blast of air that slammed Yoichi into the newly created walls.

Izuku winced in pain as Yoichi spat blood and stumbled to his feet, still gripping his knives.

"See, that's why I don't understand you, big brother. You give grand speeches about guarding society and protecting the downtrodden, but it's all hollow air when you hold the power of All for One."

"He doesn't deserve this; he's never been a part of this. Let him go."

"But isn't he?" He grinned, forehead dribbling blood into his white hair. "It's like I said before. You're a hypocrite."

Hisashi's fingers warped, and glowing tendrils crackled and reformed, forcing Yoichi farther back into a corner.

"I won't listen to this nonsense any longer."

"Oh, you won't, will you? Well, let me shatter your false ideals in one word: scars."

The hero froze, tendrils poised and ready to strike at their prey but not attacking.

"He has scars, big brother on his shoulders, down his back. Some are probably years old; I can tell, the raised skin has started to fade back to its normal color. But others are recent, gained weeks or months ago. He was terrified of showing us. I think he thought we would abandon him. Of course, we would never. But why would he believe that when you have?"

Tears streamed down Izuku's cheeks, sobs muffled through the gag and suppressed pain. He wasn't sure if it was the lingering burn of those scars or the raw wound in his heart that Yoichi's words tore at.

"I would never abandon my son." Warmth flickered in Izuku’s heart at his dad’s declaration, a feeling of comfort Izuku had desperately needed. 

"Oh really? Then why haven't you tried to help him, All for One, master of hundreds of quirks? I can't believe that you wouldn't have at least one extra that you could part with."

The warmth that had flickered at his father's declaration wavered at Yoichi's words.

"That's right," Nana whispered sadly in his ear. "That's his real quirk, All for One, the ability to give quirks. And yet he never shared it with you."

Even without the gag, Izuku would have been speechless.

"You don't protect him from the ones who gave him his scars, and then you won't even give him the power to protect himself. You don't think he could control it, do you? You think he could hurt himself or someone else. You'd rather he continues to be hurt instead of risking he'd hurt someone else, right?"

"This isn't about you, Yoichi."

But the leader of the villains continued as if he hadn't heard. "Did you teach him to be ashamed of his weakness? Did you leave him vulnerable because you got to be the big hero that comforted a quirkless child? He tried to hide it from us—was terrified to show us. And I can't help but wonder if he learned to be ashamed of the abuse he received from the same person that could have made it all go away, years ago."

Izuku struggled to breathe, snot clogged his nose, and his eyes wouldn't stop running. This wasn't true. It couldn't be true. His family had never really supported his dream of being a hero, but they had never made him feel unloved. The only reason they never helped with the bullying was that he never told them— theydidn'thatehim.

"Do you know what we see in your precious son…? A fighter. Someone with an unconquerable will who, despite all that society's done to him, keeps fighting. Something you obviously don't see."

"That's not true!" Izuku’s dad protested.

Yoichi lunged forward, "Then give him a QUIRK!"

The hero, Izuku's dad, batted Yoichi away. "Never."

The conviction and anger in his voice left no doubt. Izuku collapsed in Nana's arms, his heart shattering and stabbing into him with every frantic pump.

He thinks I'm weak he thinks I'm weak he could have given me a quirk why didn't he give me a quirk?!

He couldn't breathe, every desperate huff coming faster and doing even less.

Weak.

He couldn't focus.

I'll never give him a quirk.

He didn't feel Nana fly away from the window and deeper into the building.

Never be a hero.

Didn't feel her slap his face or press his bound hands against his heart.

WEAK.

She was saying something. What was she saying?

He just wanted this to end. Wanted this nightmare to go away where everything was wrong, and all his fears were proved right.

A deep pinch dug into his neck, and Izuku's terror floated away as he stared up into concerned blue eyes.

Notes:

The end picture of hero All for One was done by the incredibly talented Chaotic Deer. Deer writes and does art and you can check out their other work at...
https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaoticdeer/works?fandom_id=3828398)
and
https://www.deviantart.com/chaoticdeerspirit)

 

Preview:

For a second, Yoichi remained still, as if he was trying to catch his breath. Hisashi could hear him panting as if just this fight had taken a lot out of him. Even with his quirk, Yoichi never had the best endurance; the cost of being so sick in early childhood.

Some small, traitorous part of him told him to loosen his hold, to turn his brother around, and make sure he was alright. Some small piece of him still wanted to protect this man—his little brother—not caring that he had kidnapped, murdered, and done so many other horrible things for the last two hundred years.

Chapter 13: Acrimony

Summary:

Can Hisashi bring himself to fight his own brother?

Notes:

We had to do the hokey pokey with a few of the chapters, but it's all sorted out now. There's going to be a lot coming up!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

He could see the look in his brother’s eyes.

The wild thrill that lit those green eyes and danced with energy. As if in this moment, in this alleyway that Hisashi had walled off, with the smell of burning fires and smoke from the explosions, the sounds of screams and sirens, and with blood dripping from his forehead and from his lips, Yoichi never felt more alive.

Even after two centuries of fighting him and his followers, the sting of seeing that look in his brother’s eyes never dulled. For all the years he had spent trying and failing to stop him, Hisashi could still remember the wide-eyed little kid who would sneak into his bed and read comics with him under the covers with a flashlight.

He would have given anything to make that little kid laugh, smile, and feel safe and loved.

He did everything he could to protect him when the world was changing and was thrown into a war of those with meta-powers against those with no powers. He became a hero with his brother in mind, determined to save him and anyone else who needed help.

"I will protect those who cannot protect themselves.”

He had never dreamed that Yoichi would resent him for becoming a hero. Or that he would resent him so much, would become the man before him. The man standing in the midst of the death and the fear as if it was where he was always meant to be.

But no matter how much it hurt to see Yoichi standing before him, and to remember the child he was before, it had to stop. This war between them had to end.

Yoichi had made his choice centuries ago. Izuku didn't have a choice when he was taken.

And Hisashi refused to let his younger brother destroy one of the greatest joys in Hisashi’s life, no matter how much Yoichi meant to him.

If that meant bringing down his little brother once and for all, then so be it.

Yoichi must have known he was going to go all out, so he arranged a confrontation that forced Hisashi to hold back. The residential area ensured he couldn't use his full power safely.

Hisashi knew that Anarchist was somewhere, waiting for a reason to detonate more bombs, and with so many civilians around that would be unacceptably costly. If Hisashi attacked Yoichi at full strength, there was too great a risk that the buildings would come down after being shaken during the previous explosions.

And Ingenium was already down. If he got caught in the crossfire of the fight, the hero wouldn’t make it. He was barely breathing as it was.

So he attempted to capture Yoichi instead. It was the best way of engaging his brother so that Yoichi would not draw in more innocent bystanders. Hisashi would lure his brother’s followers over and keep Yoichi talking. His brother loved to gloat, and any scrap of information Hisashi could gain now was priceless.

Besides, he had questions for his brother. Questions that his brother had been avoiding since this fight began.

Where. Was. His. Son?!

He had let his brother gloat to see if he would slip and give Hisashi anything that might tell him where he and his followers had hidden Izuku. His desperation to find his son had overridden his better judgment, and he allowed Yoichi’s words to get to him the way only Yoichi could.

Scars. Izuku had scars?

Hisashi had always known Izuku had problems with school. He and Inko had angrily visited the headmaster of Aldera too many times, demanding to know why their son had come home with his possessions stolen, his homework ripped up, his notebooks burnt.

Threats of legal action on Hisashi’s part forced the school to attempt to control the bullying, but Hisashi and Inko knew that the staff was not truly trying. They had begun to discuss pulling Izuku out of there and transferring him to another school only a few weeks ago.

But scars? Izuku had-

Why hadn’t he told them? Why hadn’t he come to Hisashi and Inko from the start if it was that bad? How long had his son been suffering without either of them realizing it?

If he had known… if he had even the slightest hint that something like this was happening-

No, no he couldn’t focus on that. Yoichi knew that this revelation would stun Hisashi, and was hoping to use that to his advantage. He would find out about these scars, and he would make sure whoever laid a hand on his son paid for what they did, but first, he had to bring Izuku home.

Once Izuku was safe, then he could learn more.

And then Yoichi asked him— no, demanded— that Hisashi give his son a quirk. So similar, too similar to how Yoichi himself had screamed and begged for a quirk before this centuries-long fight began. Before he had begun to kill people in order to force Hisashi to yield and give him the power he so desperately craved.

And now he demanded that Hisashi do the same to Izuku. But Yoichi didn’t know Hisashi as well as he thought. Because if he did, then the answer should have been obvious.

“Never.”

Somehow, despite the chaos that had surrounded Hisashi and Yoichi, there was a beat of silence at his answer. As if for one split second, the world tilted over because of what he had said.

“This is not because he is not capable enough,” Hisashi stated, his voice deadly calm. “Or whatever garbage you spew. I have never given him a quirk because he doesn’t need one. He is perfect as he is. He didn’t need anything to stand up to All Smite or to be the brightest light of his family. So no, I will not tell him he’s not good enough by giving him something he never needed. I made that mistake with you, I won’t make it again.”

Yoichi’s eyes gleamed in a way that seemed triumphant-why would he feel triumphant?- as he tilted his head to the side curiously, a strand of white hair falling in his face.

“Even if it would stop all that pain he’s been going through?” Yoichi challenged jeeringly. “Even if it would fix everything?”

It was strange how these words almost made Hisashi angry. He had always known his younger brother had never understood that power didn’t solve every problem in the world. If anything, it sometimes made things worse. If Hisashi hadn’t devoted himself to protecting others and had allowed his quirk to grow to a point that he took powers as he wished… he didn’t want to imagine what he would have been.

But when Yoichi spoke this way about Izuku, Hisashi could feel something rise within him.

First, he dared to take his son, and he then had the gall to say that Hisashi didn’t love Izuku because he didn’t change him to fit this world’s ideal.

“My son is many things, Yoichi,” Hisashi asserted. “And broken is not one of them. My son does not need to be ‘fixed.’ He’s one of the people who fixed me.”

Yoichi scoffed, but his grin still remained. Something deep down told Hisashi he was missing something, but he didn’t know what. He raised his hand again and the black and red tendrils shot from his hand, intent on capturing his brother.

 Yoichi dodged with dance-like grace as he threw one of his knives at Hisashi. Hisashi sidestepped with ease, and Yoichi sneered as he threw another knife at Ingenium.

Air Cannon created a blast of wind that sent the knife spinning to the side before it even came close to the fallen hero. Yoichi pulled out another knife as he continued to dodge the tendrils, and Hisashi noticed the stinking smoke that began to fill the blocked-off area.

Smokescreen. En was here.

Another two blasts from Air Cannon cleared the smoke screen and kept everything visible, allowing Hisashi to see his brother quite clearly. It was also useful that he aimed the air blasts towards the roof where Shinomori had been positioned with a sniper rifle.

Steelskin protected him from most ammunition, but he wouldn’t put it past Shinomori to fire on Ingenium while he was down. Shinomori had a habit of firing on bystanders in order to distract Hisashi while he got away.

With two quick movements, he used Springlike Limbs to reach Ingenium in one stride and pull him to the side and then used Earthshape to make a protective dome form from the concrete, shielding the fallen hero.

Third made his move while Hisashi was distracted, dropping down from the sky again (by Nana or All Smite– Hisashi wasn’t sure), with Black Whip wrapped around him like a trapeze harness. His twisted knife was flashing as he threw all his power into his blow.

He didn’t even get close as Hisashi dodged with Springlike Limbs while tapping his mask. Holes along his mask opened and Hisashi activated Fire Breath combined with Cremation to send a burst of blue-hot flames at Third. His skin flared with pain for a moment before Skin Regrowth took over and healed all damage that came from using the fire.

Third screamed as his skin immediately began to blister and crack under the heat of the blue flames, and he was yanked back by Black Whip before he could take any further damage.

Hisashi heard Yoichi shout with rage at Third’s injury, and he turned in time to see his brother draw his gun.

Hisashi lifted his right hand, and the black and red tendrils shot out before his brother could aim the gun at him or Ingenium. Yoichi danced out of the way once more, but none of the tendrils had been aiming to catch his brother, only disarm him.

Yoichi barely had time to realize Hisashi was knocking the gun out of his hand when Hisashi closed the distance between them and pinned Yoichi against the wall.

“Now, where the hell is my son, Yoichi?!”

For a second, Yoichi remained still, as if he was trying to catch his breath. Hisashi could hear him panting as if just this fight had taken a lot out of him. Even with his quirk, Yoichi never had the best endurance: the cost of being so sick in early childhood.

Some small, traitorous part of him told him to loosen his hold, to turn his brother around, and make sure he was alright. Some small piece of him still wanted to protect this man—his little brother—not caring that he had kidnapped, murdered, and done so many other horrible things for the last two hundred years.

But Yoichi had taken Izuku. Hisashi refused to show weakness.

Yoichi threw his head back and began to laugh.

It was full of gasps and coughs as he still fought to catch his breath, but Hisashi recognized his brother’s laugh all the same. And the fact that he was laughing while Hisashi had him pinned sent chills down his spine.

“Where is he, Yoichi?” Hisashi shouted, twisting his brother's arm behind his back in a way that he knew would hurt.

“You’ll never know,” Yoichi laughed. “You’ll never know.”

“Don’t underestimate what I’ll do to get him back!” Hisashi warned, twisting the arm further to show he was serious. If Yoichi was at all bothered by this display of force, he didn’t show it. He only laughed even more, leaning against the wall as if it was comfortable and he wasn’t pinned to it.

“You’ll never know the ache of being powerless,” Yoichi gasped. “You’ve had power all your life. You’ll never know what it’s like to be looked down on: to be seen as weak and stepped on. But All Smite’s son does. That’s why he’s perfect. That’s why he’s ours now.”

There it was again. Being seen as weak, looked down on. Even after all these years, Yoichi still hadn’t forgiven Hisashi for apparently never seeing his strengths because of his illness and lack of a quirk.

And now he was projecting that slight onto Izuku, and he would use it to twist Hisashi’s son until there was nothing left of him but the murderer Yoichi and his family created. Hisashi refused to let that happen. He had already failed. He had failed too many times with every child that his brother had taken and made into a killer.

Izuku would not be the same.

“This isn’t about you, Yoichi,” he reminded his brother.

Yoichi snorted at that, rolling his eyes like a petulant teenager.

“No, it isn’t,” he agreed dryly. “It never is, with you. Too busy saving these ants to recognize that I was just as strong as you. And when I proved how strong I was, what happened? You abandoned me.”

“You killed people!” Hisashi shouted, remembering the day he found his brother standing over the bodies.

The gleam of the flickering street lamp reflected off of the bloodied badges. A pair of uniformed officers were sprawled out on the street, unmoving. He pushed past his horror to run towards his blood splattered brother, frantically checking for injuries.

“Yoichi, are you okay? Who did this?”

“I did, Big Brother. They saw me take a mochi and tried to take it back. But it was mine, so I took their lives instead.”

“But they’re the police! They were just doing their jobs.”

Yoichi shifted to glare at his older brother. Although his body language spoke of apathy, there was a wild thrill in his green eyes. “Right now their job is to hunt people like you. How many people do you think they’ve hurt, Big Brother?”

“Yoichi, it isn’t your job to worry about me,” Hisashi insisted. “And even if they were after me, I’d rather you just let them take me than do this. They were just– they– for Kami’s sake, it was just a mochi! You killed them for it?” 

“Of course,” Yoichi replied with a careless shrug as he ate the bloodstained sweet. “You, this, they are mine. They belong to me. Their lives didn’t. Do you honestly think their lives could have an equal value to me, Big Brother?” 

“You turned your back on me!” Yoichi spat. “You abandoned me for these sheep. Family doesn’t turn their back on family, Big Brother! But you did! That’s why I got a family to replace you. One who won’t abandon each other for a bunch of nobodies, but will stand by each other.”

The red laser had returned. Apparently, Shinomori had gotten back into position. Hisashi used Air Cannon to blast the man back, but it became clear the goal hadn’t been to shoot down Hisashi; it had been to loosen his hold on Yoichi.

Yoichi twisted out of his hold and moved to the wall of the alley. His manic smile returned, and Hisashi saw Black Whip shooting towards his brother, no doubt to hoist him back up.

“Don’t worry, Big Brother, I’ll make sure to do what you never would. Your son–Oh, I’m sorry, All Smite’s son–will make a fine ninth holder of One for All.”

No, not him. Not his Izuku!

“Yoichi-“

“Oh, and Second says ‘hello!’” Yoichi shouted as Black Whip wrapped around his waist and plucked him up.

“No! Where is he?! YOICHI!!”

Hisashi lunged at his brother, his black and red tendrils shooting out to grab him as he was lifted into the air.

Then all at once, the sounds of at least six different explosions consumed the world around him.

Hisashi howled in rage as the twilight sky became black, blanketed in the smoke of Anarchist’s bombs. Even here, he could feel the heat of the flames, feel the ground shake as structures around him began to collapse on their foundations, the screams of people, of kids, around him.

“YOICHI, WHERE IS MY SON?!”

But the villain had already vanished into the smoke and ash. Even with his sensory quirks, Hisashi couldn’t find them through the thick screen of smoke that didn’t have anything to do with En’s quirk. Not even heat vision could work; everything was on fire here.

He couldn’t pursue them.

He couldn’t chase after them without abandoning these people to die here, and his brother damn well knew it!

“Ingenium, hang in there,” he told the hero, lifting him over his shoulder and rushing out of the alley and into the chaos that waited for them. “I’m going to get you out of this, I promise. Just hold on, I’m going to save you.”

Izuku, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m coming for you, just hold on. Just hold on for me, please.

I’m going to save you. I swear, I’m going to save you.

Notes:

Preview:

Tomura shifted. A dark, brooding energy radiated off Sensei. This case was incredibly personal for him since it involved Izuku but also Sensei's brother, Yoichi.

"Tomura."

"Yes, sir?"

"Were you aware Izuku was being bullied?"

Chapter 14: Discord

Summary:

Hosu bombing fallout: Tomura and All for One edition

Notes:

So just gotta say, all of us we're BLOWN away by the comments last chapter. The thoughts, observations, analyses... we were absolutely thrilled. Y'all might know these characters better than us XD

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Around three in the morning, Tomura dragged himself through his agency's back door, stumbling through the dim hallways. At this hour, no one was in the locker room, which was how Tomura liked it. Especially after his nightmare of a shift.

Most had left the bombing site hours ago, but Tomura had stayed long after, not leaving until the paramedics and officers ordered him home. He had half-heartedly protested but agreed in the end. Besides, his next shift started in seven hours.

A thick layer of dust clung to him, coating his mask and clogging his filter. With a grumble, he peeled it off, tossing the expensive support gear onto the ground. His overcoat came off next; the usually dark red fabric was splattered with blood, grease, soot, and dirt. Finally, his jumpsuit came off, joining the rest of his costume on the ground.

The hot spray of the shower was heavenly, rivulets of filthy water swirling down the shower's drain. Tomura sighed, resting his forehead against the tiled wall.

Twelve hours of death, destruction, and frantically working to preserve as much life as possible.

Sensei had warned them of the destruction All Smite's family would bring, but Tomura had underestimated them. Over three hundred innocent civilians had died in the bombings, and the number of missing was nearly double that.

Tomura had spent the hellish twelve-hour shift decaying through the remains, searching for any survivors. His quirk was perfect for this type of work, but it didn't mean Tomura liked it. He knew the glassy eyes and fractured bodies would follow him into his dreams.

Shuddering, he stepped out of the shower, toweling himself off.

His skin prickled and itched, thick lines of cracked skin opening up around his eyes and mouth, the consequence of quirk overuse. He glared at his reflection in the mirror, wishing he could cover up his ugly face or scratch it off, so long he didn't see it.

Throwing a drawer open, he broke open a tube of his prescription skin lotion, slathering the thick cream over his face, arms, legs, and hands. He hated the oily feel, but he hated the itching even more.

The lotion left white streaks across his skin, and he reluctantly worked it in. When he was younger, Izuku would do this for him. Izuku claimed that it was his duty to help future heroes and, more importantly, his older brother. Tomura made him stop helping years ago.

He wished he hadn't.

Freshly changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt, Tomura ascended the stairs to the third-floor office. All the desks were abandoned, and the only light came from street lights shining through the windows and mounted T.V.s.

Footage of the disaster played on repeat: horrific images of collapsed buildings, dead civilians, and wounded heroes. Families cried and screamed for answers, demanding to know who was behind it, why this had happened, and when justice would come.

It was the last question that worried Tomura the most.

Collapsing at his desk, Tomura pulled out his paperwork stack, determined to work through half of it before retiring for bed. Sensei wouldn't care if it was late, but Tomura needed something to distract him before he attempted sleeping.

His pen struggled across the pages, scratching in answers in a habitual four-fingered grip.

He had been so excited when the agency got word of an All Smite sighting. Watching Sensei change into his hero costume and leap out the window, Tomura had been confident his brother would be found and return home.

But by the time Tomura and the team made it to Hosu, the villains had escaped and the city lay wounded and bleeding.

The pen crumbled in his fingertips, and Tomura swore as he realized he had put down his fifth finger.

"Stupid, idiotic mistake," he muttered to himself.

"Tomura?" a deep voice called. 

Tomura jolted. "Siri?" he asked. He brushed the dust off his fingers and wandered between the maze of desks to Sensei's office.

His adopted father and hero sat at his desk in the dark, his face obscured by shadows.

"What are you doing here?"

"Just finished my shift, sir. They needed me longer at the bombing site. I was working on paperwork and then going back to my apartment to sleep."

"I see." 

Tomura shifted. A dark, brooding energy radiated off Hisashi. This case was incredibly personal for him since it involved Izuku and Hisashi's brother, Yoichi.

"Tomura."

"Yes, sir?"

"Were you aware Izuku was being bullied?"

Tomura’s skin prickled, and he forced his hands to stay at his side. Both his doctor and therapist had told him he had to resist scratching. But the anxiety brought on by the pointed question made the temptation worse. Swallowing, he answered the question, looking to make his knowledge of the situation appear no more extensive than his adopted father.

“Yes, sir, I thought we all were. Wasn’t that why you and Mom went to Aldera?”

Tomura watched his adopted Dad and teacher lean back in his chair, hands steepled in his lap. The pain that colored his father’s voice made his heart clench.

“Yes, but it appears we underestimated the extent,” Hisashi said as he lifted his head. Intense red eyes locked onto Tomura. “Yoichi said that Izuku has scars.”

Tomura stiffened, the hairs on his back rising on edge. Hisashi didn’t miss Tomura's reaction, and his eyes narrowed.

“You knew.” It wasn’t a question but a statement of fact.

“It wasn’t intentional.” The guilt in Tomura's voice was evident as he let the truth fall from his mouth. “I accidentally walked in on him changing, and I saw him. He said it wasn’t a problem, but I thought it was. Most of them were burn marks.”

“Bakugou!?”

“Yeah, punky little brat,” Tomura muttered, hands flexing and he remembered the scared look on the blonde twerp's face. “I scared him right. I told Izuku to tell me if things got bad again, but he said things were better.”

The streetlight filtering through the blinded window didn’t reveal any of his features. When he wanted to, his father could be unreadable.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

The guilt in his chest grew and Tomura couldn’t look at the man he looked up to any longer. He averted his eyes down, looking and feeling like a child in trouble.

“Izuku asked me not to. I wanted to! But I walked in on him, and he was scared of telling you and so he made me promise not to tell or else he wouldn’t talk to me. I’m sorry, I really did want to. But I made a promise to Izuku, and I couldn’t break that promise.”

It had turned Tomura’s stomach seeing the shiny pink skin and ridged flesh. Izuku had flown around, grabbing a shirt to cover himself, eyes wide with terror and his mouth trembling. Tomura had been so horrified and speechless that when Izuku begged him to say nothing, he had agreed.

“You should have told me.”

Tomura flinched.

“I know, but I couldn’t break my promise.”

Hisashi shifted in his chair and stood like an upward falling avalanche, his frame dominating the office. Tomura’s palms sweated, for once, he could understand the fear villains felt when his father arrived on the scene. He had to force himself to not take a nervous step away, even as his father towered over him, crimson eyes narrowed in anger.

“Promise or not you should have told me.”

Tomura looked up blinking as he absorbed the statement.

“What?”

Hisashi continued as if he hadn’t heard the confused, single-word question. “I’m very disappointed in you. I expect you to tell me what Izuku tells you. I need to know this stuff. I don’t care if you made a promise, you tell me when you or your brother are hurt. No matter what.”

Tomura's own irritation rose at his adoptive father's attacking tone. He was exhausted and stressed from his nightmarish shift, and this would do nothing to help find his brother.

“Since when was I supposed to be your spy?! I handled it. He promised me that it was better.”

“And you trusted him?!”

“Yes!” Tomura yelled, throwing his hands in the air. “Because that’s what families do! At least that’s what I thought this family did!”

“Well, you failed in solving the problem.” His father’s words cut Tomura’s already aching heart. “Izuku was still getting hurt, and he’s now in worse danger than he’s ever been.”

Tomura’s skin itched and stung, and he didn't stop his hand from reaching for his neck as he snarled at his father. “Look, I'm sorry. I thought I had dealt with the bullying! But how is his kidnapping my fault!?”

Hisashi stiffened as he stared down at his eldest son who now glared at him with tired, angry red eyes. He scratched viciously at his neck and stepped forward, regaining the ground he had lost when he stepped back.

“This isn't my fault!”

“I didn’t say–" 

“YOU JUST DID!”

Tomura snarled and slapped his open palm on the door frame which promptly crumbled beneath the impact.

The silence that followed was deafening, and Tomura calmed as saw what he had done. The decay had spread a good three feet across the office wall from the frame.

"Tomura I didn't mean t–"

Hisashi didn't get to finish as his eldest son rushed away from him.

Notes:

Next chapter:

The ground was shaking (or was it spinning?) when Izuku woke up.

It didn’t even register to him that he was back in the vault, or that someone had changed him into nightclothes and washed the dirt and grime from his face from the night before.

All he could think about was that the distance to the toilet might as well have been across the world for all of the energy he had. Instead, he stumbled to a trashcan by the desk, and everything he ate the day before made a reappearance.

Chapter 15: Bewilderment

Summary:

The aftermath of Hosu continues to send everyone into a downward spiral, clinging to anything they can to remain upright.

Notes:

Happy Wednesday! This was another chapter we had to mix around, but we got it, and hopefully y'all like it! We loved your last comments, the amount you guys analyze this is incredible! Some of y'all seem to understand these characters more than we do!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

That could have gone better. Much, much better. Dabi ran a hand over his face, leaning against the wall. He just needed to take a minute. All the damage and lives lost…it sometimes made him regret taking this path in life. Even so, he knew he could have turned out so much worse. Although, it didn’t help that it intensified the paranoia and trust issues he dealt with. What was he doing? Guilty, Dabi thought of the program he had running on his laptop. It violated all kinds of laws and police proceedings. If anyone saw it, he’d be in deep trouble. He could even lose his badge. The nagging voice, the one that told him everyone was out to get him, didn’t care about potential consequences. Dabi was a terrible person, but there wasn’t much he could do about that right now.

Okay, he had taken his time. Back to work. On the way to his desk, he noticed the boss’s door opened slightly. Ragged gasps could be heard through the crack. That couldn’t be All for One…could it? The boss was strong, imposing, a pillar that couldn’t be shaken. And yet, Dabi was peering through the gap from the not entirely closed door to see the most powerful hero in the world hunched over his desk and taking in ragged breaths.

“It was supposed to be me, all of the burdens of taking on villains and saving people was supposed to be for one, for me. I’m supposed to protect those that can’t protect themselves, but I can’t even keep my own son safe,” All for One muttered to himself.

“Boss, stop.”

All for One looked up in shock, struggling to compose himself. “Dabi, you shouldn’t be here.”

“You’re not okay.” Dabi didn't know what words to say or how to do this, but he knew when someone needed help. Personal experience sure was some teacher. “You wouldn’t let me get away with pretending I was fine, so there’s sure as hell no way I’m letting you do it either.” 

The boss looked conflicted, staring at Dabi, eyes lingering on his scars. “Dabi…do you ever regret not having your quirk? Would things have been better for you if you had it?”

Where was this coming from? It had been years since then, so why would he…Izuku. Oh man, if this was about the kid, the conversation was going to be much harder than Dabi had thought. The two of them waited in anxious silence for a moment, only broken when Dabi sighed and closed the door. He slid down the wall to sit on the floor. “I hated you at first.”

A mirthless laugh. “I know.” 

“I wanted to be a hero, and here was some big shot pro stealing my quirk and getting me institutionalized.”

The boss winced. “I did offer to give it back.”

 “You did,” Dabi conceded. “I know why you took it, that I would have been worse off having it at that point in my life, but you have to understand that losing my quirk broke me. I couldn’t see any future past the one my quirk offered.”

“I used to think quirks were a blessing.” All for One stared at the hole in his hand. “Now I’m not so sure. Maybe we all would have been better off without them.”

“Probably.” Dabi laughed at the boss’s shocked look. “What, you expecting me to disagree? If there weren’t any quirks, my family probably wouldn’t have been so messed up. But I also probably wouldn’t have had any reason to meet any of you.”

“Dabi…”

“My quirk led me to where I am now, but it doesn’t define me.” Dabi looked at All for One, hoping he was communicating the sincerity of his words. “I told you I didn’t want my quirk back and I stand by that. Sure, life may be easier if I had it, but I don’t need it. I didn’t need it to graduate from the police academy or become one of the youngest detectives out there. It’s hard, but it makes me who I am. Getting my quirk back would make all of that feel invalidated.”

Something hope flickered back to life in the boss’s eyes. “And…how do you feel about your scars? If you could hide them, would you?”

Dabi smirked, spanning his arms out. “I’m a pretty up front guy. The only things I hide are what I need to so my family stays safe. I may not be proud of how I got them, but I’ll be damned if I don’t claim every scar as mine.” 

All for One didn’t quite look convinced, but he seemed more stable now. “Thank you, Dabi. This was…helpful. I think I need to speak with Tomura now.”

“Good, because he really needs someone to talk to.”


The ground was shaking (or was it spinning?), when Izuku woke up.

It didn’t even register to him that he was back in the vault, or that someone had changed him into nightclothes and washed the dirt and grime from his face from the night before.

All he could think about was that the distance to the toilet might as well have been across the world for all of the energy he had. Instead he stumbled to a trashcan by the desk, and everything he ate the day before made a reappearance.

He could hear the screech of metal grinding as the vault door opened, and he vomited again in the trash can as all he thought about were the sounds of explosions, metal smashing under Third, Nana, and All Smite’s blows, and Ingenium’s cries of pain.

My fault-too weak for a quirk-Dad LIED-I’m too weak-they hurt him for trying to help me-too weak-Dad lied-he lied!

Someone was saying something to him in a soft tone, patting him on the back, and carding fingers through his curls, as if trying to console him. The same voice and hands that beat the life out of Ingenium, because Ingenium wanted to bring him home.

Home… Dad lied to him.

He said he was a quirk counselor. He never said he was a hero.

Why hadn’t he told Izuku? Why did he think Izuku was weak? Why did he let Izuku suffer for years, why did he let everyone tell Izuku he couldn’t be a hero, when he could have helped Izuku this entire time?

Did Tomura know? He had to, he was a hero as well… 

Why didn’t they help him? Why didn’t they save him?

Although he knew how warm the vault was, he was shivering with freezing sweat, as he remained kneeling over the trash can. Tears, snot and sweat joined the contents as he leaned over, resting his head against the leg of his desk. Whatever little energy he had before had already drained, and he couldn’t even squirm as All Smite pulled him back and sat Izuku on his lap, cuddled against his chest like a child.

Instinctively, Izuku curled up into the warmth, even though all he could see were All Smite’s bloody hands striking Ingenium again and again. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to scream at All Smite to go away and leave him alone, or allow himself to rest in All Smite’s arms, like he did when they found his scars.

”Do you know what we see in your precious son? A fighter.”

 He didn’t feel like a fighter. He felt weak and helpless, and all he wanted was his father and his brother to walk through that steel door instead of All Smite, and bring him home. But instead, all he had was the villain who had kidnapped him and insisted he was his son.

”You are safe. You are loved. You are home. And I’m going to keep on telling you that until you believe it.”

Izuku didn’t believe Yoichi. But he wanted to feel that way, just for a moment. 

He just wanted to feel safe and loved again. He wanted to pretend he was in Dad’s arms right now, that it was Mom who was whispering kind words to him, that it was Tomura who was carding his fingers through Izuku’s hair.

He wanted to pretend he was anywhere but in the arms of the man who kidnapped him, who used him to lure Ingenium to his death, and wanted to make him just like him and his family.

They wanted Izuku to be the one who detonated the bombs, who tore heroes apart with his bare hands- heroes like Ingenium and Firefly- and now they wanted him to up against his own family. They wanted him to fight Tomura and… and Dad.

He didn’t feel safe. He didn’t feel loved. He didn’t feel like he was home.

 But he wanted to be.

 “It’s alright, little fighter,” All Smite murmured, rubbing soothing circles on Izuku’s back. “It’s alright. Let it all out. It’s alright. I am here.”

As if waiting for permission, his tears spilled over and he cried out. It was a guttural, ugly sound  that echoed through the walls of the vault.

All Smite moved him so that his arms so that he held Izuku like a baby, and Izuku clung to All Smite’s shirt, burying his face in the material as he wailed. He didn’t struggle as the villain rocked him, didn’t protest as every ragged sob, every raw scream was gently shushed, allowed every tear to be wiped by the hands that had hurt Ingenium.

“It’s alright,” he kept saying. “You’re safe, my son, you’re strong. You’re alright. I am here. Everything will be alright.”

But it wasn’t alright. None of this was.

And Izuku was torn between making that clear and clinging to the only source of comfort he had in this prison. He wanted to stand up to the villain and declare that what he did was wrong, but at the same time all he could feel was the mess of grief, hurt, anger, and fear that raged inside of him like a storm and wouldn’t go away, no matter how hard he cried.

“I hate you!” he sobbed. “I hate you so much.”

“I know,” All Smite replied. “I know, it’s okay. I love you, it’s alright. What you feel is natural, it’s okay.”

 Izuku had expected hoped All Smite would get angry at his declaration. But at the same time he was just happy that someone was there with him, holding him when he needed a hug. And as much as he wished it could have been his mother or Tomura, he could only desperately cling to the villain. 

Because what else could he do?

This was wrong. He shouldn’t feel comforted by the villain. He shouldn’t feel flattered that they saw a fighter in him when Dad refused to give him a quirk. He shouldn’t feel anything good about these murderers.

So why did he? What was wrong with him?

Maybe if he felt like this, then maybe it was a good thing Dad refused to give him a quirk. Thoughts like this… Izuku didn’t deserve one. He was selfish. He had seen so many people get hurt and all he could think of was why his stepfather never gave him a quirk.

How could he seek comfort from the people who had hurt so many innocent civilians and heroes? He couldn’t save Ingenium last night, he couldn’t save the victims of Second’s bombs. He hadn’t been strong enough to save anyone last night, and he wanted to be a hero.

But now he wasn’t sure that could be a reality. Not even his father believed him; if he did then maybe… maybe…

“Why didn’t he tell me?” he whimpered. “Why didn’t he give… he knew how badly I wanted to be a hero. Why didn’t he help me?”

“I don’t know,” All Smite answered. “But don’t think that you are in the wrong for feeling like this. You aren’t weak for feeling upset or scared. You are one of the strongest people I’ve met, little fighter.”

Izuku didn’t want to be admired by them. He didn’t want to be seen as strong by the people who killed… Izuku didn’t want to think of how many people they had killed last night. How many people died just because Ingenium almost said his name.

Maybe if Izuku had just told them his name from the beginning, maybe they wouldn’t have detonated that bomb. Maybe they would have-

No, no he had to be realistic. They had been trying to scare him. They would have killed those people regardless of what Ingenium did, or if Izuku had tried to escape. There was nothing Izuku could have done about that. He had to make peace with that and move forward, before the guilt swallowed him up whole. 

It might be the only way he could survive today would be to accept at this moment, what happened in Hosu wasn’t his fault.

All Smite held Izuku until he had stopped crying, and only let go of him to wrap him up in a blanket, sit down on the bed, and resumed holding him again. When Izuku’s tears had finally dried, and his sobs had died down, he sat Izuku down in the bed propped up by the pillows, and made a warm nest of blankets around him. He went to the bathroom, and returned with a warm, wet washcloth, and carefully wiped away any tear tracks, snot, and saliva from Izuku’s face.  Afterwards, he sat by Izuku, fingers carding through his hair, neither of them saying a word.

 “Do you think you’ll get sick again?” All Smite eventually asked after several minutes of silence. 

Izuku shrugged in answer.

 “Do you think you can keep anything down?”

 He shook his head. Right now it felt like his stomach, throat, and everything else had closed off, and would refuse any entry. If he tried to force anything down now, it would probably come up again.

“Do you want to go upstairs with the others? Or do you want to stay down here?”

Izuku didn’t feel like going upstairs. He didn’t want to spend time with the people he saw yesterday. He had thought Third understood him when he saw the scars, but the look in his eyes when the villain attacked Ingenium… the look of serenity in First’s eyes as he got ready to fight All For One- Dad… knowing that Hikage fired the shot that hurt Ingenium…

He didn’t want to be with them right now. But he didn’t know if the villains would respect that or just drag him upstairs for another “fashion show” or “quality time.”

“Will I have to wear the handcuffs?” he asked instead, eyes fixed on his blankets. He didn’t want to look at the villain right now.

All Smite paused, and Izuku could tell he was searching for some sort of sign of whether Izuku was bluffing or not.

“Will we need them?” All Smite asked evenly.

Izuku’s breath hitched as he shook his head. He squeezed his eyes shut before the tears made a reappearance. He had already cried too much.

“I won’t run,” he promised. “I won’t run away. Just please… Please don’t kill anybody like that again. Please.” 

He knew it was the right thing to do. He didn’t want someone to die because of him. He didn’t want someone else ending up like Ingenium, or the people caught in the bombs. But at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel like he was surrendering.

“That’s good,” All Smite said, and Izuku could hear that the man was fighting a smile. “That… that’s good to hear, my b- little fighter. I’m so proud of you.”

Izuku sniffled as quietly as he could, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

He didn’t want the villain to be proud of him. He wanted to go home. He wanted to go home where he did feel safe, where he did feel loved. 

But then… would that mean going back to a place where nobody believed in him? Mom had thought he wouldn’t be a hero, Tomura told him to never change, and his father apparently was the hero with a hundred quirks, but planned to never give one to Izuku.

They didn’t know. They didn’t believe in him.

Here they did.

But that… that wasn’t a good thing, right? That couldn’t be a good thing. They were villains. They had killed and Izuku…

Izuku wasn’t sure anymore.

And that scared him more than anything. 

 

Notes:

Sneak Peek:

The next time the kid spoke, his voice sounded so much smaller. “I’m going to be a hero one day. It would be selfish of me to—”

“You’re right. It is pretty selfish. Complaining about the pain you’re in, especially to heroes who have dealt with so much worse, it must make you a monster.” Dabi grinned, making sure his scarred face stretched in a way that freaked even Toga out. “After all, what’s more noble than to suffer silently? Than to throw everything else away to join the others worshipping on the altar of self sacrifice and virtue.”

“Exactly, you understand.”

Chapter 16: Cessation

Summary:

Izuku deals with his new reality.

Dabi finds an idiot.

Notes:

Hey everyone, Zyla here! We’re quickly approaching a section of the story where things are going to get a bit darker, especially with Izuku’s mental state. We’ve gotten questions so we just want to put this out here. While Izuku’s mental state will get worse, we will stay away from self harm and suicide idealization. We hope this helps relieve some worries you might have had.

We also just want to say thank you for reading and commenting! It’s been a delight to hear your thoughts. Enjoy the chapter! <3

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

After talking with the boss, Dabi decided to go out for a walk. It was a nice night and he needed to be reminded that there were still good things out there, things worth fighting for. Plus, the exercise would do him well.

He strolled around the block, his feet never taking him too far away from the agency. The night breeze was cool against his ever-sensitive scars and most people were tucked inside their homes as if instinctively hiding from the bad fortune that had struck Hosu. 

As he walked, his eyes carefully analyzed his surroundings, noting darker shadows and the flicker of movement. Close by the agency, Dabi saw a figure standing underneath a street lamp. Casually, he tucked his hands into his pocket as if at ease but really slipped a pair of brass knuckles onto his hand. 

However, as he got closer, his unease lessened. There, standing in front of him in a black facemask and his freaking school uniform was a kid that looked suspiciously familiar.

“Kid, it’s midnight,” Dabi drawled. It was actually eleven, but midnight was much more dramatic. “You better have a good reason for being here.”

The brat stiffened and, for a second, Dabi really thought he was going to run. Instead, he stood up straight and spoke in a voice far too choked by grief for someone so young. “My brother almost died a few days ago. A sniper shot a bullet through his spine. The doctors say he’ll never walk again, much less be a hero. He still hasn’t woken up.”

Oh. This kid looked like Ingenium for a reason. “Your brother sounds kinda reckless for coming across a sniper.”

“My brother is a paragon of heroics! He wouldn’t have been out there if people didn’t need him.” The brat was worked up, hand chopping through the air and chest heaving.

Dabi looked at him, really looked at him. “And you don’t need him?”

The next time the kid spoke, his voice sounded so much smaller. “I’m going to be a hero one day. It would be selfish of me to—”

“You’re right. It is pretty selfish. Complaining about the pain you’re in, especially to heroes who have dealt with so much worse, it must make you a monster.” Dabi grinned, making sure his scarred face stretched in a way that freaked even Toga out. “After all, what’s more noble than to suffer silently? To throw everything else away to join the others worshiping on the altar of self-sacrifice and virtue.”

“Exactly, you understand.”

“I do,” Dabi confirmed. “Which is why I’m telling you something it took me years to figure out. Stop.”

“…Stop?” The kid looked so confused, eyes scrunching up under his glasses.

“How you feel matters, even if you think it’s selfish. Suffering silently doesn’t birth heroes, it creates villains.” Dabi could see how uncomfortable the kid was. “Tell me, what are you really doing here?”

Ingenium’s younger brother burst into tears, wiping at them furiously. “I just…I couldn’t let the people who hurt him get away with it. I can’t do anything to help him or make him better, but I can do this. I can bring the people who hurt him to justice.”

Dabi sighed. “I understand where you’re coming from, but this isn’t going to lead to justice or anything good. It’s going to lead to your parents calling in late at night to identify your corpse.”

The kid sucked in a breath, eyes going wide.

“It’ll be so messed up that they can barely look at it, but they’ll find that one untouched piece that leaves them with no doubt that it’s you. They’ll be crushed, having to deal with one son whose career ended and another who died far too young. I wonder how they’ll react.” Dabi tilted his head at the kid, this dumb, misguided kid who was trying so hard to do the right thing but couldn’t see past his own inexperience. “Do you think they’ll despair? Will they hold onto everything you’ve ever touched—”

“Stop it.”

“—Or will they get rid of it because they can’t bear to even think of you? Will they blame themselves? Will they wonder if you could have lived if they had only seen how much pain you were in? Will they even decide to keep—”

“I SAID STOP IT!” The younger Iida’s cheeks were red and covered in streams of angry tears. When he spoke, it was like the words being forcefully torn from his chest, shredding something inside him along the way. “IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT? TO MAKE ME SCARED TO DIE?”

“I wasn’t scared to die,” Dabi whispered. “I was fine with dying if it made my father proud of me, if it made me the hero I wasn’t sure I could be. One day…I went too far. Someone pulled me back and got me help, gave me a reality check I needed, even if I didn’t want it. It made me realize exactly what might have happened if I had kept going. My mom was on the verge of a mental breakdown. It would have sent her over the edge and who knows what she would have done. My father would have messed up my siblings, maybe even worse than me.”

“What are you saying?” The kid was a mess, crying and confused. And so, so angry.

“I’m saying I don’t want you to be scared of dying, but every choice you make has an impact on the people around you, the ones that love you most of all.” Their faces flashed through Dabi’s mind, the people he lived for. “I want every choice you make from here on out to terrify you. Be scared to hurt the people around you. Be petrified to make the same mistakes others have warned you about. Most of all, be scared of people who hide their pain. Make sure you see them, otherwise they’ll disappear when you finally turn around to look.”

The kid looked like he was about to respond, but his phone rang. “It’s my mother.”

A business card was thrown in the brat’s direction. “If you need someone to see you, I’ll be around.” 

Dabi walked away. Tenya was a good kid. He’d make the right choice.

 


 

Izuku lay limp on the bed facing the wall, his sheets half on him and half off. Someone had recently put up posters to brighten up the dull metal. The one currently facing him featured a fluffy, gray kitten, dangling precariously from a rope. Above it were the words, “Hang in there.”

The metal door of the vault screeched open and closed, and heavy footstep padded towards him. A large hand caressed Izuku’s cheek, “Hello there, my little fighter,” All Smite murmured. “How are you feeling today?”

Izuku shrugged, still staring at the wall.

Above him, the villain sighed. “Another bad day, huh.”

 Izuku twitched. Every day was a bad day here; some were just worse than others.

“Are you hungry?”

“No.” 

It was the first he’d spoken in over a day, and his voice cracked from disuse.

“I’m sorry to hear that. But you know the rules. You have to eat at least two meals every twenty-four hours. You skipped dinner last night, which means you have to eat breakfast.”

A plate of steaming rice and fish entered Izuku’s field of vision.

“Sit up now if you want to feed yourself.”

Rubbing his eyes, Izuku sat up and took the plate of food. Despite its excellent seasoning and flavors, every mouthful tasted like ash.

He closed his eyes, forcing down the lump in his throat. It had been almost two weeks, and he hadn’t escaped the deafening sound of bombs going off and dust clogging his lungs. Ingenium lay battered and broken, and Izuku’s father all but admitted he thought Izuku was weak. Why didn’t Izuku’s family believe in him? Was he not enough?

All Smite brushed a tear from the corner of Izuku’s eye. “No need to cry. It’s just breakfast.” 

The villain tucked Izuku closer, carding a hand through Izuku’s hair. “I know you’ve been struggling the past little bit, but I want you to know, my little fighter, just how proud I am of you.”

Izuku took another bite of rice. He wouldn’t cry, he told himself, he would not.

“I have to run some errands today, but I didn’t want to leave you alone. So En agreed to be with you. Sounds good?”

“It’s fine.” Izuku pushed his half-eaten breakfast away. “Can I be done? I’m not hungry.”

All Smite’s smile tightened, “I suppose so. But I expect you to eat an extra-large portion for lunch, okay?”

“Okay.”

The villain pulled Izuku into a hug, cradling Izuku’s head and squeezing gently. “I love you so much, my boy.” Izuku didn’t fight back. It wasn’t worth it when it ultimately hurt people.

After a minute, All Smite gave a final squeeze and let Izuku go. “I’ll see you soon. Be good for En.”

Izuku flopped back onto the bed, not bothering to watch the villain go.

He didn’t have the emotional energy to deal with All Smite or his family. Not when Izuku’s own heart ached.

Tomura always said Izuku was too sensitive for his own good. Did Tomura think Izuku was too weak to be a hero?

A faint curl of mist warned Izuku of En’s presence as the man stopped in front of the bed, customary jacket buttoned up all the way.

“Comfy?” he asked.

“It’s fine.”

“Yeah, I remember feeling that way when I was in here too.”

Izuku didn’t mind En. The man had a calm, almost kind atmosphere about him. He didn’t force physical contact or make Izuku try to talk. One time, he sat with Izuku for three hours, never saying a word, but keeping silent company.

But most importantly, with En, Izuku held onto the false reality that he wasn’t with villains. As far as Izuku knew, En hadn’t killed or injured anyone during the attack. He made the smoke that allowed the villains to escape, but even that was a mercy. It meant that no one else had to die trying to stop them.

“Wanna play video games?” En held up a controller. “We could do Mario Cart again.”

Izuku shrugged but gathered up the sheets, wrapping them around him like a cape, and trailed after En.

Collapsing on the couch, he watched as En quickly pulled up the game on the large T.V. and calibrated the devices before taking a seat by Izuku.

The bright colors and cheery voices were the opposite of how Izuku was feeling but playing video games was better than staring at the villain’s terrible choices in posters.

En was as good as Tomura at video games. He skillfully drifted through tight turns and flew over large jumps while Izuku struggled to keep up. However, Izuku noticed that every couple of games, En would make a simple mistake that cost him first place, thus allowing Izuku to win.

Whenever Izuku played with Tomura, Izuku never won. Tomura was competitive to a fault, but he always praised Izuku’s good races.

En ruffled Izuku’s hair. “Good game, little fighter.”

Maybe that was the real reason Izuku didn’t mind En. In some ways, he reminded Izuku of Tomura.

They started a new tournament, but Izuku kept driving off the course, distracted now by memories of his brother. Kacchan thought Tomura was creepy, but Izuku thought Tomura was genuine. He was always true to how he felt whether that was happy, sad, or angry. Was he sorry that Izuku was gone? Or did he blame Izuku for being weak?

A hand settled on Izuku’s shoulder, and he jolted out his thoughts.

“You, okay?” En asked, his brows furrowed. “This is the third time you’ve driven off the track in a minute.”

Izuku ducked his head and fiddled with his remote. “M’ fine.”

“I’m not so sure. You’ve been muttering a bit. Something about your old family? I know you miss them, but you don’t need to. We’re here for you now. It’s like Grandpa Yoichi says. You are safe, you are loved, you are home.”

His voice was so sincere and his eyes so earnest that Izuku felt shame curdle in his gut.

“I don’t believe that,” he told En.

The villain smiled. “I know, and that’s okay. We’ll keep telling you until you believe it.”

 


 

Dabi should sleep. The dingy clock on his desk said that it was well into the early hours of the morning.  He should really be sleeping right now. Instead, he was driven by restlessness. This was understandable, it had been several weeks since the attack on Hosu and even longer since the kidnapping. Tension was building in the office, especially between the boss and Shigaraki. Dabi guessed that Sensei still hadn’t spoken to Shigaraki, maybe out of some type of guilt or pride. 

Dabi drummed his fingers on his leg as he scowled at the glaring light of his laptop. When things went wrong like this, all you could really do was work the case, and some things still weren’t adding up in his mind. Maybe it really was his paranoia acting up. Still, the program on his computer should help alleviate that, even if it wasn’t legal. 

Not wanting to stay and sit in the tension, Dabi strolled out of the agency, following a familiar route for his walks.

He dialed a number on his phone and waited. And waited. Voicemail. Of course. Why wouldn’t it be? Huffing, Dabi just decided to continue with his message. “Hey, guess you’re doing something or sleeping. Either way, your night is definitely better than mine has been. Anyway, I just wanted to tell you I won’t be back for a bit. There’s a lead I need to follow. Take care and all that.”

He hung up the phone. Internally, he debated for a moment. In the end, he gave in and made one more call. As fate would have it, voicemail again. What, people weren’t up past midnight anymore? Losers. “It’s me. Been a while since I last called. Just wanted to check in and see how you were doing. There’s something I have to do, so call the agency if I’m still out working. I had a really weird night and just wanted to tell you not to be dumb. I care about you too much for you to be the kind of idiot who would track down a group of killers on your own because your older brother got hurt. Anyway, I’m taking some time off around your birthday, so you better save me some food this time. See ya later.”

Feeling a little better about life, Dabi gave himself five minutes. He took five minutes to deal with everything that was falling apart in so many lives lately.

Then he wandered into the night and got to work.

 


 

Izuku mutely followed Daigoro around the base. He was practically drowning in the excessively oversized hoodie En got him, but that was alright. It was snug and loose, like a little Izuku cave that went wherever he did. Even though the handcuffs had been gone for a while, he still found the ability to bury his unbound hands in the pocket strange. Sometimes he was angry they ever made him feel like walking around with his hands free was a privilege, but most days he felt something nice at the thought they trusted him enough to allow this.

Today, everyone else was out. It was just Daigoro watching him. Before, Izuku would have seen this as a chance to escape, but now…

Now he just followed the villain like a shadow, steps light and silent.

“Alright. There are a few things I’m supposed to get done, but after that, we do whatever you want, sound good?” Daigoro looked back at him for a response. 

Izuku pulled the soft black fabric of his hood further down. The villain didn’t seem to mind, continuing to chatter endlessly. Eventually, they stepped into the kitchen. Those familiar black strands reached around, opening cabinets and drawers to set things down on the counter.

One of them moved past Izuku and he couldn’t help but be curious. Daigoro had used the strands to restrain him before, but he never really got the chance to examine them. There were always more pressing concerns. Hesitantly, Izuku reached his hand out to stroke the black energy. It was oddly cool, feeling like some sort of tangible mist or cold silk. At his prodding, the string wound itself around his wrist. It wasn’t aggressive, more like a curious cat. Did Daigoro know his quirk was doing this?

The man was looking at Izuku with a curious expression. Izuku lifted up his wrist. “Did you do this?”

“Nah, my quirk has kind of a mind of its own. It’s not quite sentient, but it could get there if it was passed through a few more generations.”

That just made Izuku more curious. What stimuli would it respond to without instruction from Daigoro? Would it differentiate a human touching it from something like a strong breeze? Did it perceive itself as part of Daigoro or a separate entity? What was its tensile strength?

“What’s tensile strength?” At the villain’s comment, Izuku flushed. He must have been muttering. This was so embarrassing, but the villain looked more curious than anything else.

“It’s how much you can pull or stretch something before it breaks. It’s how much tension it can withstand.”

“Oh yeah, the others will talk about tension and stuff like that sometimes, but I never know what they mean.”

Izuku blinked. “I guess you never took a physics class?”

Daigoro laughed, a rough and unrestrained sound coming from deep in his chest. “I didn’t really take any classes. I dropped out pretty young and never bothered to learn. Sometimes they talk about stuff like division and I make a joke about how funny the word sounds.”

Wait, so one of the most feared villains out there, feared by Izuku’s fa—by All for One, didn’t know basic algebra? “They never offered to teach you?”

“Nope!”

“Well, that won’t do.” Izuku frowned, trying to decide on a plan of action. Eventually, he just started walking back towards the living room where Nana had left some paper and pens out. The strand of Blackwhip was still coiled playfully around his wrist, but he didn’t notice.

This time, the villain followed Izuku through the base.

Notes:

Preview:

“I… you don’t love me. Not really,” Izuku replied, shifting uncomfortably on the floor.

The faces of the villains around him turned grave, identical looks of disappointment turned towards Izuku.

Deserved disappointment. They didn’t love Izuku, and they couldn’t force him to believe it. Maybe he wanted to be loved by somebody… to be loved in a way his actual father hadn’t given him. But he couldn’t find it from them. It wasn’t real.

Chapter 17: Effusive

Summary:

The villains try to help Izuku feel a little more at home.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Yoichi walked back to the base. He’d been at a separate location, checking on the surprise they had planned for their newest family member. It would probably still be a while before they needed it, but there couldn’t be anything subpar for the youngest of their number. And if worse came to worse, the surprise could just as easily be for his big brother.

That brought a smile to his face. Big brother had looked so broken when they fought. It reminded Yoichi of how his brother used to act back at the beginning of all of this. Yes, his brother had buried himself in apathy for far too long. The child was just the right lever to maneuver big brother back into their game. Older siblings were supposed to play with the younger ones after all.

Stepping into the base, he forced all thoughts of his brother from his mind. Once he locked the door, it was time to focus on his family. The poor kid Toshinori brought home was having a hard time. The reality check that came with their field trip had been both good and bad. On the plus side, the little fighter wasn’t trying to run away anymore. On the other hand, he had become withdrawn, trying to avoid speaking or interacting and barely eating. The hoodie En got him only made things worse, giving the kid a way to physically hide himself even when they were in the same room.

Conversation drifted to him from the living room, but it wasn’t Daigoro’s voice. Yoichi was stunned as he listened to the little fighter talking. Not only that, it was a real conversation, not the dull husks of responses they had been getting.

Yoichi walked into the living room and internally cooed at the domestic scene. Daigoro was sitting on the floor by the coffee table, hunched over sheets of paper and looking like he was fighting an army single-handedly. Meanwhile, the little fighter was sitting near him on the floor, back against the couch, and playing with a bundle of Blackwhip strands sitting in his lap. The strands would periodically twist and curl closer to him, almost like a sleepy cat.

The most shocking part was how relaxed the kid looked. His hood was off and there was no tension in his muscles as he stroked Blackwhip. Yoichi didn’t want to move, afraid that any motion would break the fragile peace, but he summoned the courage to take a photo.

“Okay! I think I have it this time,” Daigoro announced.

The little fighter reached for the paper and began looking it over. “You did all the steps right, but you forgot to carry the one here.”

Yoichi’s heart melted as the kid picked up a pen and showed Daigoro how to finish the problem, then he frowned thinking about it. Their new family member was never that comfortable around him, especially after the attack. Maybe this was his chance though. If he could bond with the kid in a small way like this, maybe it would stop the little fighter from being afraid of him.

“Is that math?”

The kid startled, letting out a frightened squeak as Blackwhip started to writhe defensively around him. “O-oh. Y-you’re back.”

“I am,” Yoichi replied patiently. “Is that math?”

“Yeah, Daigoro said he didn’t know how to do it, but everyone should know math.” The little fighter shrugged even as Yoichi raised an eyebrow. Daigoro had certainly never told any of them that.

“Huh, I can’t believe that never came up. Although I never really told the others that I’m horrible at math,” Yoichi lied. It was just a small thing, a little bit of untruth to get the little fighter to open up to him.

“You have problems with math?” The kid looked to be in disbelief but didn’t seem to doubt Yoichi’s words.

“I have a math-related learning disability. Everything else was fine, but math…” He trailed off. The truth was everything in school had come easily to him. There had never been any doubt that Yoichi was a genius, just like his brother.

The kid’s eyes shone with a kind of determination. Gone were the flickers of fear from before. “Then I guess I’ll just have to teach you too.”

 


 

Toshinori walked up the stairs from the basement where he had left his son safely tucked in his room for the rest of the night. His son had gone without fighting, but Toshinori had seen the resentment in his boy’s eyes.

Every time it hurt his heart, but he masked it in bright smiles and warm hugs. His boy should never feel unloved, not when he was with his family.

With a sigh, Toshinori locked the basement door behind him. Even though his boy had been behaving as of late, the extra locks and steel walls made Toshinori feel safer about leaving him alone.

He was the last to the dining room. Everyone else had already taken their chair around the table. Toshinori pulled into his spot, chair number eight, located across the table from his mother. A new chair, number nine, had already been added next to Toshinori, waiting for the day that his son would accept his role in their family.

“Were you able to tuck him in, alright?” Nana asked.

“Yes. He wasn’t happy about it, but I left him with a new book, and that should help keep him occupied for the time.”

“Well, good.” Yoichi stood up from his seat at the head of the table. “Now that everyone is here, it’s time we start our family meeting. Hikage, you and En have been leading up the spying on my brother. Do you have any new information to report?”

Hikage shook his head. “All for One and his agency took a huge setback due to Second’s surprise. Most of their resources have been allotted to cleanup, and less time has been devoted to looking for us.”

Yoichi clicked his tongue. “Disappointing. Anything else?”

“Our mole is still free from suspicion. According to him, there’s been increased friction between All for One and his subordinates, especially the hero Sandman.”

“Who is Sandman again?” Third asked.

En buried his mouth deeper into his jacket. “We don’t know. Personal records on him are well hidden, but he does appear to have a close connection to All for One and Toshinori’s boy.”

“I don’t like it,” Second grumbled. “Do more research on the hero. All for One is usually not one for personal connections. It’s odd that he would bring a stranger so close to his inner circle.”

Yoichi hummed, “Yes, big brother rarely does things without good reason. There’s a chance this hero is of greater significance than we realized. If he’s not, at very least we will know better how to deal with him.”

“Right, sir.”

As the family continued talking, Toshinori slipped out his phone, pulling up the app for the vault cameras. His boy lay curled on the bed, sheets tucked around him, hood pulled up over his head. Fiddling with the camera’s controls, he zoomed in on his boy. The lighting was poor, but he could see the tear tracks on his boy’s cheeks. Tears. Again.

“Toshi.”

Toshinori startled, fumbling with his phone. Nana chuckled as Toshinori tucked his phone back away with an embarrassed smile. “Ah, sorry.”

Yoichi smiled, steepling his hands in front of him. “Checking on your little fighter again?”

An unwilling sigh slipped out. “Yes, I just… worry.”

“Oh, Toshi,” Nana murmured, “It’s okay.”

“But is, though?” Toshinori ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “It seems like for every step forward we take, he takes two steps back. The… display has made him stop trying to escape. But most days, he’s so….”

“Depressed?”

“Yes! Whenever he’s in his room, he doesn’t move from his bed, and when he’s upstairs, he hardly speaks a word. He feels lifeless.” Some of the worry he felt must have leaked out in his voice because Nana reached across the table to give his hand a squeeze.

“I don’t know. I think the kid might be doing better than we think. He seemed pretty excited to give me and Yoichi math lessons. Can’t really figure out why, but he lit up then.” Daigoro explained.

“But those are the exceptions,” Toshinori argued back. “And whenever he does start to open up, he freaks out when he realizes it and shuts back down. All progress stops then for several days. I know I’ve never been on this side of the process before, but it has been almost a month.”

“And you’re starting to get worried,” Yoichi said, finishing Toshinori’s thought. “Yes, I do see what you mean. And it is true that typically by this point, he would be more open. So what’s the problem.” He spread his hands open, gesturing to the table. “Any ideas?”

“He’s a stubborn brat. That’s the problem,” Second grumbled.

“Actually, I’d disagree.” En straightened up from his seat at the table. “I think he doesn’t feel worthy of love.”

“What!?” Toshinori cried in outrage, his feelings shared and voice likewise by several at the table.

En shrugged. “He mutters to himself sometimes. It’s hard to catch, but if you listen close, you can hear pieces. He’s obsessing over the demonstration and what All for One said. That somehow he’s not good enough or worthy of love because of the way his family treated.”

“That’s not true at all!” Toshinori yelled. He stood up from the table, ready to go down to the vault and hug his boy until he understood, but a black tendril wrapped around his arm.

“Hold it, Toshinori,” Daigoro said. “Hear En out.”

“He’s feeling insecure right now,” En explained. “He probably believes that we will abandon him like his other family.”

Nana hummed to herself. “So, if we can help him feel how much we care, he’ll be more open and less likely to retreat.”

“Exactly.”

 Yoichi clapped his hands together, a broad smile on his face. “Then it appears our next steps are clear. We need to make sure our little fighter knows how much we love him.”

 


 

The vault door creaked open and Izuku instinctively turned to face the doorway, just having woken up. He’d fallen asleep reading the new book All Smite had given him last night, too engrossed to put it down. His face was smushed against the pages and he hurriedly hid it under the covers so All Smite couldn’t see just how far he’d gone through the book in one night.

Luckily, All Smite didn’t seem to be here to reprimand Izuku for his bad sleeping habits.

He greeted him with a good morning, beckoning Izuku forward. Izuku rolled off his bed and walked toward him without complaint. Better to be outside than stuck in the vault for so long.

A large hand landed on his shoulder and Izuku repressed a flinch from the sudden movement.

“It has come to our attention we have been neglecting some part of your mental health,” All Smite said, sincere sorrow clear in his voice.

That was… odd. Izuku wouldn’t have thought his mental health would have been such a high priority given he was a victim of kidnapping. He knew they all had the pretense of loving him as a family but it wasn’t real. His own father hadn’t even loved him enough to give him a quirk. These people couldn’t truly care.

Regardless of his opinions, Izuku allowed All Smite to shepherd him toward the main room. All the other villains were waiting there, all staring up at Izuku with similar honest smiles. They were sat in a circle, and the door closed behind Izuku with a final sounding thump.

“It’s good to see you again, little fighter,” Nana said softly, patting the ground next to her. All Smite went to sit down and looked expectantly up at Izuku. Izuku followed in quiet succession.

He stuffed his hands into the pockets of the huge hoodie, letting its massive size swallow him up. It was comforting, to feel its soft presence surrounding him at all times. However, he could feel the gaze of the villains on him, watching his every breath, twitch, blink. Izuku wanted to curl up and disappear but that wasn’t an option. 

“Do you think we love you?” Yoichi asked, hands steepled under his chin. His face spoke business, but his words struck panic into Izuku’s heart.

“I… you don’t love me. Not really,” Izuku replied, shifting uncomfortably on the floor.

The faces of the villains around him looked grave, identical looks of disappointment turned toward Izuku.

Deserved disappointment. They didn’t love Izuku, and they couldn’t force him to believe it. Maybe he wanted to be loved by somebody… to feel accepted and cared for, but he couldn’t find it from them. It wasn’t real.

“That’s okay,” Yoichi said. “Don’t worry, you haven’t done anything wrong. Clearly, we just haven’t been open enough about our love for you.”

Izuku felt a lump form in his throat. What… did that mean?

All Smite reached out with one hand. His intention was clear. En sat on his other side, and his hand was held out too. Izuku slowly dragged his hand out of his pockets and placed them into theirs, unsure exactly of what was happening. The rest of the circle connected hands until the entire ring was interlinked.

Once this was done, Yoichi gestured to Nana.

“I love you for your big heart,” Nana said.

Like an invisible baton, En spoke up. “I love you for your fighting spirit.”

“I love you for your patience when teaching,” Daigoro added.

And so it went, round and round, circles and circles.

All words of love directed to Izuku. Tailor-made for him. Pieces of himself they’d seen, pieces he’d never thought about himself as being good. His mumbling, the way he fidgeted too much sometimes, they loved all of it. Every part of him. Parts of him Izuku hadn’t even noticed about himself.

He looked out onto the faces of the villains before him and all he saw was love. Honest, sincere, truthful as far as Izuku could see. Love.

They even mentioned parts of him his father hadn’t liked. Parts he’d known worried his father. His determination to get out into the real world to help people, to jump into trouble without a thought, the same part of him that had gotten him into this mess in the first place. They loved that too.

And they believed in him. Believed where his father had not, believed that Izuku could be something more if he was given the chance, if he was given the ability to try. Izuku had always been protected from going out and doing what he wanted to do by his family, and while he now understood why, it still hurt. And he knew what these villains meant, what exactly they saw in him that they believed so strongly.

They believed where no one else did and faced with all those words, with all those compliments, with all that love - it was just so hard to deny any longer.

There was no doubt, no second-guessing. They held Izuku in his entirety and they loved him.

Izuku couldn’t help the tear that rolled down his cheek.

Notes:

Next Chapter:

If she could, Inko would punch her husband. She loved him, but sometimes he didn’t realize how hurtful he could be. Tomura was suffering like the rest of them, now wasn’t the time to pin the blame. “Hisashi told me what he said… what he shouldn’t have said. Izuku has always tried to play the hero, even if it hurt himself. I wish you would’ve told us, but I understand why you didn’t.”

She touched Tomura’s arm, looking for any sign that her words were getting through. “But right now, I just want you to talk to me. I’m your mother. I’m here for you.”

Tomura jerked away. “You’re not my mother.”

Chapter 18: Fracture

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Inko sat at her kitchen table and glared at her mug of tea. For weeks, she had cried. And cried. And cried. Mitsuki came over a few times and it helped, but Inko really needed her family. 

She needed Izuku back. She needed to reassure Tomura and make sure he was dealing with this in a healthy way. She needed to talk to her husband.

But they weren’t here. No one could find Izuku. Her other son and husband were too busy looking. Inko couldn’t blame them. Of course, she wanted them to look for Izuku. He took priority.

However, she hadn’t spoken to her family in days and it had been even longer since she had seen them. It felt like her family was slipping through her grasp, and the stress was starting to weigh her down. She could feel herself break a little more every day Izuku was gone.

But she was done crying.

Mind made up, she dialed the phone. It rang out and went to voicemail. Patiently, she dialed again. 

“Inko? Darling, now isn’t the best time—”

“It has been days since I’ve heard from you or Tomura,” Inko stated coldly. “I heard about what happened with Yoichi’s group on the news, not from you.” 

“I’ve been busy. With the attack, we got set back and I have to search for my son, I don’t have time—” 

“HE IS MY SON TOO!” Inko screamed. There was a moment of utter silence before she crumbled against the kitchen table. “Izuku is my son too!” 

“…I’m sorry. You should have heard about it from me.” 

She let out a coarse laugh. “Yes, I should have, but I don’t want to fight right now. Let’s just…talk. I don’t—I haven’t felt like a family in a while. Where’s Tomura? Why don’t you get him and we can all just talk and take a moment?” 

“…I don’t think that’s going to happen.” 

The blood drained from Inko. Oh no. Oh no. As if one son wasn’t enough, now this? “What happened to Tomura? Is he alive?”

“Tomura is fine. He’s just not speaking to me right now.”

Inko knew her husband could be rash sometimes. He was often dragged down by the weight of the world that he insisted on carrying himself. “What. Did. You. Do?”

“Well…”

At the end of his explanation of what he’d said to her son, Inko took a deep breath. She did not scream or shout. Instead, she spoke in the calmest tone that had ever come from her. “You son of a Shigaraki. You owe Tomura more than just an apology. Excuse me, I have someone else to speak to now.” 

Then she hung up on the number one hero without an ounce of remorse. 

Inko did not make another call. Instead, she got in her car and drove. When she finally reached her destination, she parked and strolled through the building’s door. She didn’t stop at the reception desk, striding past without hesitation.

“Miss, you can’t go back there. That’s for the heroes,” the receptionist tried.

She ignored him. When he reached out to grab her arm, Inko finally turned around. “My son works here and right now, he needs me. I suggest you get out of my way before I take your—”

“Whoah, it’s all cool here. I know her,” a blond boy in a yellow cape reassured.

The receptionist faltered. “Well, then I guess it’s okay…”

Once they had passed, Inko said. “Thank you.”

“No problem! I’m Mirio Toogata, but my hero name is Lemillion.”

“Well, you’ve certainly been my hero today,” Inko praised. “I’m Tomura’s mother, Inko Midoriya.”

Mirio’s eyes lit up at that. “He’s been having a hard time. I’m sure he’ll be glad you stopped by. You’re a good mother.”

Inko blushed at the praise. What a lovely young man. The agency has chosen its intern well. “Thank you again for your help.”

“Anytime! I need to save a million people, but that doesn’t mean I can slack off on the small stuff.”

The boy left and Inko returned to the task at hand. Barging through the door to the offices, a startled head looked up at her. Tomura, deep bags under his eyes, his hair limp and greasy, seemed shocked by her appearance. 

“What are you doing—”

“Oh, Tomura,” Inko rushed forward, catching him in a hug. “Whatever has happened or will happen, I just need you to know that I love you. I will always love you.”

She wiped the tears away from his stunned face. There were deep, irritated red lines along his neck. Inko frowned.

“Tomura, be honest with me, are you okay?” 

He wouldn’t look her in the eye. 

“I’m fine, but I’m busy right now. I can’t talk.” Tomura turned out of the hug, ignoring her eyes and typing away at his computer.

“When did you last take a break?”

“I don’t know. The level hasn’t been cleared yet, so I’ve been grinding at it.”

Inko’s pursed her lips. For the most part, Tomura had outgrown gamer lingo, but sometimes, when he was stressed, it snuck back in. It had taken her years to learn how to speak his language. “Well, you’re due for a stat restoration. I brought food. You can come to sit out on the patio with me before going back to your level.”

Not waiting for a response, she grabbed Tomura by the arm and pulled him up out of his seat. Grumbling, he followed, scratching at his neck.

Like the main office, the patio was clear of people. Inko led them to a quiet bench and table overlooking the bustling streets below. “Where’s all your team?” 

“Busy.” 

“All of them?”

“Compress, Spinner, and Twice are all patrolling Hosu looking for any new signs. Toga is off duty until we get more information or until it’s a little bit safer. I heard that Loud Cloud has been patrolling in Musutafu, and Dabi was apparently following up on some lead, but we haven’t heard from him in a while.”

The words were rote, like a soldier rattling off a report to a general.

“I see. And what about you?”

Tomura’s hands flexed and unflexed, flakes of skin falling off with the movement. An easy sign of quirk exhaustion.

 “Pulling shifts. Finally finished up the cleanup from the attack, so I’ve been back to patrolling.”

“Tomura,” Inko whispered, reaching up to brush a strand out of his eyes. “You know that’s not what I’m asking.”

A breeze picked up, blowing the strand of hair back into Tomura’s eyes. “And what am I supposed to say.

“How you feel, Tomura.”

“I feel like going back to work.” Tomura’s gaze was directed ahead, shoulders and back hunched in on himself, hands limp at his side.

If she could, Inko would punch her husband. She loved him, but sometimes he didn’t realize how hurtful he could be. Tomura was suffering like the rest of them, now wasn’t the time to pin the blame. “Hisashi told me what he said… what he shouldn’t have said. Izuku has always tried to play the hero, even if it hurt himself. I wish you would’ve told us, but I understand why you didn’t.”

She touched Tomura’s arm, looking for any sign that her words were getting through. “But right now, I just want you to talk to me. I’m your mother. I’m here for you.”

Tomura jerked away. “You’re not my mother.” 

Inko’s mouth fell open in a silent gasp. “I…” she started. “Tomura, of course I am.”

Tomura got to his feet, his eyes wide and ringed with red, scratched skin. “I killed my mother, and my father, and all of my family. We were so worried about Nana Shimura and her family that we ignored the real threat.” His fingers dug deep grooves into the flesh of his neck, blood dribbling down. “Maybe Sensei is right,” he laughed desperately. “Maybe I am the real problem.”

“No, Tomura, of course, you’re not.” 

Tomura turned his back to her. “I have to go. I have another shift starting soon.” 

Inko reached out for him, but he had already slipped inside, the door handle flaking from where he had touched it. Tears dripped down Inko’s face. She was an emotional crier, something Izuku got from her. But no tears could capture the agony she was feeling. Why?! She wanted to cry. She already had one lost son. She didn’t need to lose another. 

“Oh, Hisashi,” she cried to herself, “please save our boys.” 

 


 

You’re not my mother. 

Tomura stared at his reflection in the mirror, washing his hands to get rid of the blood underneath his fingernails. However, all he could see was Inko Midoriya’s heartbroken expression, her green eyes full of tears as he said the most hateful thing he could to her. 

She had come to make sure he was okay. She had come to help him, and Tomura had all but slapped her. And she had done this when he knew for a fact that she was not alright herself.

How could she be, after nearly a month of nothing? He didn’t want to think of how many times she must have cried over these last weeks, because he had failed again and again to bring his little brother home. 

Now she was probably crying again because Tomura was a thoughtless idiot who just hurt one of the kindest, warmest people on earth. 

He had wanted to tell her not to worry about him. He should be able to take care of himself, without her help. How could he call himself a hero or an adult if he still needed his mother to hold him and help him? 

How could he be the hero Izuku needed if he still needed help?

The truth was plain and simple: Tomura was a failure. 

He had thought he had done the right thing in keeping Izuku’s scars a secret and scaring the Bakugou boy into backing off his little brother. He had promised Izuku that everything would be alright and that the scars would remain a secret between them so long as he told Tomura if the brat or any other kid tried to hurt him. His little brother had hugged and thanked Tomura, and in that moment, Tomura had felt like a true hero.

In the end, that’s all he wanted to be. A hero who could make his brother proud. 

But instead, he had failed. 

He helped his brother and earned Sensei’s doubt and disappointment which hurt far more than any itch along his neck could.

Sensei told him All Smite, Nana, and the others now knew about Izuku’s scars. And all Tomura could think about was what Kotaro Shimura had told him about Nana and her family. How they would do terrible things under a mask of kindness and love. How they would convince you they loved you, and no one else in the world did.

They had killed Kotaro’s father out of their so-called love. It was one of the many reasons Tomura’s biological father had feared Nana and her family. Tomura had known this, he had heard it from his father time and time again growing up.

Tomura knew All Smite was using his brother’s scars to his advantage. Taking his brother’s vulnerability, and using it as a means to spin the lie around Izuku that he belonged with All Smite and Nana, and not his real family. 

All the while, the woman who had wiped away Tomura’s tears, who had hugged the nightmares away, and had been at his side even before she married Sensei was at home, wracked with worry about what was happening to her son. Sensei was beside himself with the guilt that he couldn’t protect his family, and blamed himself for the deaths of the bombing victims. 

And what had Tomura done to help? Saved as many as he could (but he couldn’t save his precious little brother), scratched at his neck until it bled, and took his anger out on the woman who was his mother in any way that mattered.

Tomura was wrong, he wasn’t just a failure. He was a monster. A monster who killed his first family. Even though he got what so few monsters did–another chance–he was ruining the second family he had.

He failed to protect his little brother. Failed to save him from the villains who had taken him. He had disappointed his adopted father, the man who saved him, and refused to see him for the monster he was all those years ago. Now he had just hurt the woman who had loved him unconditionally.

Sandman was supposed to be a rescue hero who turned obstacles into dust to save people, but instead, Tomura was decaying his world and hurting the people he loved. 

Crack! 

Tomura started, his reflection shattering into dust as he realized his bare hand had touched the mirror while he was lost in thought. He pulled his hand back and quickly slipped his gloves back on before anyone or anything else got hurt. 

He had hurt too many people already.

The only thing he could do now is keep moving, and keep hunting down the villains who had helped destroy his first family, and now were tearing down his second family. If he could just bring Izuku home, it would be enough.

He could finally save Izuku and be the hero his little brother needed. He could atone for his failures to Sensei by reuniting Izuku with the family. He could apologize to Inko by giving her back her son. If Tomura could at least save Izuku, if he could at least protect his little brother, then maybe he wouldn’t become the monster who had killed his family fifteen years ago. 

How Tomura felt now was unimportant. In the end, bringing Izuku home was all that mattered.

Notes:

Next Chapter:

Mirio looked on in amusement as Nejire dragged Tamaki by the wrist over to the poor senior citizen walking his dog. When he had infiltrated UA on Sir’s orders, he hadn’t expected to get close to anyone. Sure, he would need to make friends as a cover, but he wouldn’t get attached. Then Nejire’s outgoing demeanor talked his mental guard to death and grew on him. Every cold shoulder was ignored, every subtle insult treated like a joke. Eventually, he gave in. Why not have this be his cover friend? It seemed low effort. But the way she would find him whenever he was stressed, always calming him down with her stream of consciousness…things changed.

Chapter 19: Espionage

Summary:

Mirio continues on his mission, and Izuku begins to crumble under the constant affection of his new family.

Notes:

We have officially reached more than the halfway mark in the story! AHHHH! Thanks to everyone who's been following along. We promise more craziness to come!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Mirio scrolled through his phone, trying to find the address the heroes had messaged him. His coworkers had invited him to join them at a café at the end of their shifts. Mirio didn't care about the food, but it was an excellent sign of progress. He was becoming integrated into the group and despite that one hiccup-he scowled thinking of it-he was unsuspected.

His GPS led him to a small café, tucked in one of the quieter parts of Hosu. Blinds covered the windows, and from the outside, it seemed almost abandoned. If it was a trap, he should be able to phase out of there without any problems.

He tucked the phone back into his pocket and pushed the doors open.

The inside was as subdued as the outside, dim lights with softly playing music. The tables were pressed in corners, separate from each other, and most customers sat quietly eating by themselves.

"Psst, Mirio!" Already recognizing their voice, Mirio turned to see Toga waving from a corner table. Compress and Spinner were already there, food sitting in front of them. "Over here." Toga said unnecessarily.

He strode over a broad smile on his face. "Am I the last here!"

"Yeah, Dabi still isn't returning our texts, and it doesn't look like Sandman is going to be joining us."

"Really?" Mirio asked, infusing concern into his voice. He pulled out a seat, positioning himself near the wall for easy escape access and away from Compress, the biggest threat.

Spinner ran a clawed hand through his wild, purple hair. "He's really struggling right now, but the thing about Tomura is he won't let you help him unless he wants it."

"Poor planning on his part, a magician always needs his assistant, but we respect his wishes. Still, it is concerning. He hasn't skipped a café break in a long time."

"Yeah, what kind of café is this anyway?"

"We call it the off-shift café cause it's usually visited by heroes who just finished up a shift and need a bit of quiet."

Mirio furrowed his brows, and he glanced around the quiet interior. "But it's so… boring."

Compress raised his hands. "Heroes cannot always be performing. Sometimes they need time to prepare their tricks and sleights for when they are performing again."

"It's about not having to pretend," Spinner said. "Heroes do what they can to help, but they need time to be human too. Honestly, being a vigilante was easier that way."

Mirio tried to contain the curl of his lip. It was so like heroes to be fake. They pretended to be beacons when they were as weak as the rest of the population. At least villains were true to who they were.

"It's okay if you don't like it, Mirio," Toga said, slurping on straw. "I think it's a bit boring, but they do have tasty shakes."

Spinner shook his head, "How you convinced them to put blood in your shakes is beyond me.

Toga grinned, revealing her shiny, pointed canines. "I am very convincing."

Mirio laughed. It was such a shame that the girl hadn't chosen villainy. With her quirk and attitude, she would've been a serious threat. A shame indeed.

"So, how has the search been going? Sensei still has me stuck on office duty for the most part." It was aggravating, but Mirio didn't let his smile drop. He had learned some valuable information by working in the office. He had managed to spy on part of Sandman's conversation with Sensei's wife. He would need to pass that information on.

Spinner frowned. "Not good. We haven't found any new leads despite all of the heroes and police in the city being on high alert. I'm personally wondering if they've moved on. Maybe they ditched Hosu."

Not good, Mirio thought. "Oh, I'm sure they're hiding somewhere in the city. You know how sneaky villains can be. There can be one right next to you, and you'd never know."

"Yes, the disappearing act is a skill most villains obtain."

"It's okay," Toga said. "We'll find the villains." Her eyes gleamed, predatory in the dim café lights. "Sensei doesn't give up. He and Tomura will track the villains down. And they'll make them ever regret crossing us."

A shiver ran up Mirio's back, and he fought the urge to phase. Instead, he laughed. "I'm sure they will!" 

But not if I have anything to do with it,   he thought.

 


 

“Hey, hey, hey, I bet you didn’t know that Ryukyu grows her own aloe vera!”

“I didn’t know.”

“Oh! Do you see that puppy! It’s so cute! I don’t understand the costume though. Why does that old guy have it dressed like a brown bear with a spear? Oh! Look, they’re getting closer! I’m going to ask to pet it.”

“Please, no.”

“Why do you look so moody? You should pet it too! It will relax you!”

“No. It won’t.”

“Come on, everyone says you have to work on your self-confidence, this can be the first step!”

“W-wait!”

Mirio looked on in amusement as Nejire dragged Tamaki by the wrist over to the poor senior citizen walking his dog. When he had infiltrated UA on Sir’s orders, he hadn’t expected to get close to anyone. Sure, he would need to make friends as a cover, but he wouldn’t get attached. Then Nejire’s outgoing demeanor talked his mental guard to death and grew on him. Every cold shoulder was ignored, every subtle insult treated like a joke. Eventually, he gave in. Why not have this be his cover friend? It seemed low effort. But the way she would find him whenever he was stressed, always calming him down with her stream of consciousness…things changed.

Tamaki wasn’t on his radar for a long time. It had been just him and Nejire until she dragged a shy boy trying to hide behind his hands to eat lunch with them one day. Tamaki was one of the fiercest opponents in the class during combat training, going out on his own and completing the task. According to the girls, he had the “dark, mysterious, and brooding” aura that vampires in romance movies had. The second Nejire dropped him into a seat across from Mirio, all of those assumptions vanished. Sir would be so disappointed in him, because Mirio was quickly realizing he knew nothing about this boy. So he joined Nejire in dragging the suffering introvert to lunch and to hang out after school. At first it was for fun, watching Tamaki flounder like one might watch a particularly low-budget but well-thought-out circus.

Then, much like with Nejire, Mirio started to feel differently. Although, it wasn’t the easy, infectious friendship he had with her. It was…different.

“Mirio, help me!” an embarrassed Tamaki begged, still held captive in the cackling girl’s grip.

Mirio looked up at the sky as he laughed, hiding the faint blush on his cheeks. “But if I do that, the poor little guy will think you don’t like him. Don’t you think the puppy is cute?”

“YES!” Nejire screamed, drowning out more protests.

Mirio caught a glimpse of someone out of the corner of his eye. “I’m going to go grab us some snacks.”

“TAMAKI! THERE’S ANOTHER PUPPY!”

Mirio shook his head fondly and walked off. As he walked, he straightened his posture and stood at attention. “Sir.”

Casually sitting on the bench, a newspaper in front of him, and a coffee off to his side, Mirio's mentor, Sir Nighteye, looked like a normal businessman, much in the same way that Mirio looked like a normal hero student. If only the sheep knew. 

“Mirio," Sir Nighteye said, not moving his gaze from the paper. "It’s been a bit since we’ve checked in.”

“I’ve learned a lot. For one thing, I learned about Sandman.”

Sir Nighteye’s brow lifted in interest. “And what did you find?”

"His mother’s name is Inko Midoryia.”

“Just like…”

“Yep. He’s Izuku’s brother. Adopted brother. Not just that, but All for One and him had a falling out. Sandman is coming apart, not even letting any of his coworkers get close to him. I’m not sure he’s even sleeping.” 

It had been amazing to watch. The hero kept pushing past his limits to save his younger brother. Truly heroic. And like all heroic things, it was tearing him apart at the seams.

Sir ruffled his hair. “You’ve done well.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Mirio swallowed, debating whether to make his request again. He’d made it before and always been told it wasn’t the time, but maybe he would get a different answer now. “About Tamaki and Nejire…”

“We can work on converting them later. Now is not the time.” Sir looked at his sullen expression. “Although, the fact you keep asking is just more proof that you should have been the one.”

Left with that confusing statement and disappointment, Mirio went to get snacks for his friends.

 


 

Mirai called the most important number on his phone, impatiently waiting for him to pick up.

“Hello!”

Mirai frowned. “You’re not Toshinori.”

“No, I’m not. I’m his great-great-great-great-great grandfather. Toshi has his hand full with…another matter.”

“You’re one of the first three.” Mirai nearly dropped his phone. One of the greatest villains of all time was talking to him. He had met him in passing when he had visited Toshinori, but to actually hold a conversation with him… The first encounter had been awkward at best, Mirai knew better than to lose his temper, but this was his chance to prove himself. 

“Yes, I’m the First. Why were you calling?”

“I, um.” Mirai cleared his throat, trying to settle his nerves. He had only heard stories about this man from Toshinori, everything else was muddled details in history books. “My protégée had acquired new information, particularly pertaining to Sandman. Apparently, he’s your new family member’s brother.

“How did you come by this information?”

“Mirio happened to help Sandman’s mother out. That’s Mirio Toogata.” Mirai couldn’t help but try to put his chosen successor for Toshinori out there and on First’s radar.

There was a long pause on the line. “Send me this woman’s address along with anything else of note. I’ll text you my number from Toshi’s phone.”

The call disconnected, but Mirai couldn’t bring himself to care. Less than a minute later, his phone buzzed.

He. Had. The First’s. Phone number!

If anyone had been around him at that moment, they would have heard him give a very undignified squeal. And then he would have killed them of course, so it was probably for the best that no one was around.

 


 

The gym was quiet save for Izuku’s grunts of exertion and the sound of his fists hitting the punching bag. The family had been pulling Izuku out of his vault room for regular family activities like dinner, games, movies, or exercise. On top of a room-sized vault, the villain’s hideout also included an impressively stocked fitness room filled with workout machines, weights, and punching bags.

So far, it was his favorite place in the hideout.

Izuku’s knuckles stung as he threw a side hook, the tender skin tearing open against the punching bag. But he ignored the feeling, relishing the physical exertion. Sweat dripped down his forehead, plastering his green curls against his head, and his heart thumped in his chest. He fixed the punching bag with his fiercest glare and struck it again and again until his chest wheezed, and he had to slump against the bag.

“Aww, that’s my fierce grandbaby!” Nana cheered. The room erupted in applause as the villains acknowledged his efforts. Second grunted, his permanent frown not leaving, but there was begrudging respect in his eyes.

En strolled over to Izuku. “Not bad,” said En. Even though his workout clothes had a high collar that covered his neck, Izuku could hear the smile on his face.

Izuku tried to tell himself the flush covering his cheeks was from exertion and not pathetic happiness from being acknowledged, but he struggled to convince even himself.

A heavy hand settled on his shoulder. Izuku flinched, but All Smite smiled proudly at him. “That was excellent.”

Izuku shrugged, fiddling with the athlete's tape covering his hands. He could see where red was beginning to peek through the white bandages. “It’s nothing.”

He slipped past the villains to grab his water bottle resting by the wall. Using his teeth, he pried the cap open and drank deeply, using it as an excuse to escape the family’s gaze.

They were monsters who hurt and killed for their amusement. They weren’t good, even when they sat with Izuku, talked with him, or complimented him. It didn’t matter that they saw Izuku’s weaknesses and accepted him when Izuku’s family didn’t. In a way, he didn’t expect, they genuinely cared for him, and it was making it harder for Izuku not to care.

He needed to hate them.

He hated them.

Even if he had to keep telling himself that.

“So, what’s the story, little fighter?” Banjo squeezed Izuku’s biceps. “You’ve got more meat on you than we expected. We thought we’d have to kick your butt!”

“And your reflexes are nothing to scoff at either.” Said Second, bare, scared arms crossed over his chest.

Izuku shrugged, fiddling with the cap of his water bottle. “I’ve been training every day for the past two years. Tom- my brother, has been helping. Attending UA as part of the hero’s course has always been my dream, so I knew I’d have to work even harder than the other applicants.”

Tears pricked his eyes. He had loved training with Tomura. They had created their own little gym among the trash-covered Dagobah beach. Tomura had decayed a path and spot in the center where they could work out in privacy. Every day before the sun rose, Izuku would jog over there before working through a routine of lifting weights and sparring against his brother. He had loved feeling his muscles develop and seeing his brother’s half-mocking but approving smile.

A tear trickled down Izuku’s face. Even with all the hurt, he missed his family.

“My bo-” All Smite started, then stopped cutting himself off. “Ah, sorry, umm.”

Exhaustion hit Izuku, weighing down his shoulders and his willpower. He was so tired of fighting and failing against these villains. Even if he somehow escaped, they would hurt others to get him back. Ingenium, dazed and bloody against the alley wall, flashed in his mind.

Izuku’s resolve crumbled as he watched All Smite fumble through his words. “You can call me my boy or whatever you want,” Izuku said tiredly, wiping his tear away on his shirt. “It’s not like it really matters.”

“My boy.” All Smite whispered, and Izuku flinched at the awe those words carried. Izuku didn’t deserve it.

Thick arms wrapped around him and crushed him against All Smite’s chest. “My boy, my boy,” the villain crooned, running his hands through Izuku’s sweaty curls. “Oh, I’m so proud of you, my boy.”

A camera snapped, and Izuku heard the other family members gathering around, cooing.

“Oh, we’ll have to tell First,” Nana gushed. “He’ll be thrilled.”

“My boy, my son, my fierce little fighter, oh, I’m so proud of you.” All Smite kept up the litany of praises and pet names as he rocked Izuku back and forth.

It’s okay, Izuku told himself as more tears slipped out. He was just tired of fighting. It only hurt people. Weeks later, he could still hear the exploding bombs and Ingenium’s cries of pain. Doing what the villains wanted kept people safe.

I don’t like them , he whispered to himself. Not even En easiness, or All Smite’s care, or Nana’s exuberance, or all the other little ways the villains showed they knew and cared about Izuku.

They hurt people, and he didn’t want them to keep hurting people. That’s why Izuku was allowing himself to relax in All Smite’s hug. That was the only reason why.

Wasn’t it?

Notes:

Next Chapter:

“Is there any news?” Inko asked, walking out of the kitchen to her husband. “I didn’t expect you back so early, I-"

She stopped dead in her tracks as she got a full look at the man in her home. His hair was white, and his smile was very similar to Hisashi’s. She could see the resemblance, even if his hair was longer, his form lither than Hisashi’s muscled form, and their eyes were different colors.
Inko recognized him instantly, both from the pictures going around the news asking for civilians to be on the lookout and from the childhood photos her husband had shown her.

“I think my big brother is too busy turning Hosu upside down,” Yoichi Shigaraki said in lieu of a greeting. “But I thought I would come by and keep you company. After all, I’ve been wanting to meet my beautiful sister-in-law.”

Chapter 20: Matriarch

Summary:

Yoichi and Inko have a conversation. Someone leaves wounded and mildly traumatized.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Inko hated feeling helpless.

It had been weeks since her son had been kidnapped, and days since she learned about the fight between her husband and her stepson. She had called Tomura every day since he snapped at her, but he never answered. All of her texts went unread. Knowing Tomura as she did, he felt ashamed and was avoiding her rather than face her and what he did. Hisashi was only coming by for a few hours every other day to eat, shower, and get a little sleep before he went back on the streets to search for Izuku once more. He called her every evening to update her on the situation, but she could hear how exhausted and desperate he grew with every call. And every time, it was the same thing: since the attack on Hosu, they had found no trace of Izuku.

Her family was fragmenting, and Inko felt like there was nothing she could do to stop it. 

Was this how Izuku felt? Had Izuku felt alone and helpless while facing the attacks of bullies, the harsh words of teachers, and having the world turn its back on him because he was quirkless? To feel like this, and still want to be a hero… to still want to save people, even when most would mock him…

Izuku was one of the strongest people she knew. Inko wished she had told him more before this happened. Maybe he would have been more willing to tell her and his father about the bullying if she had. Maybe he would have shown her the scars he bore, so she could help him.

Instead, he hid it from everyone but Tomura, and her family felt like it was falling apart even more because of it.

Inko wiped away a stray tear, refusing to let it ruin the katsudon she was preparing. She didn’t care if she had made it every day for the past month now, and it always went uneaten. She didn’t care that she also made Tomura and Hisashi’s favorites now, but only Hisashi was the one home to enjoy them. She had to do something. She had to have something prepared for when her boys came home.

They would come home. They would come home, and they would gather around their table, and they would eat a meal together, and the anxieties Inko had suffered this last month would slowly heal as she watched them. Sometimes it felt like she was the one holding her family together. She couldn’t let them break apart now when they needed each other the most.

She was torn from her thoughts as the door swung open, and she caught a glimpse of white hair from the corner of her eye.

Hisashi? But it was only noon, and he had left this morning. Had he forgotten something here?

“Is there any news?” Inko asked, walking out of the kitchen to her husband. “I didn’t expect you back so early, I-“

She stopped dead in her tracks as she got a full look at the man in her home. His hair was white, and his smile was very similar to Hisashi’s. She could see the resemblance, even if his hair was longer, his form lither than Hisashi’s muscled form, and their eyes were different colors. 

Inko recognized him instantly, both from the pictures on the news asking for civilians to be on the lookout and from the childhood photos her husband had shown her.

“I think my big brother is too busy turning Hosu upside down,” Yoichi Shigaraki said in lieu of a greeting. “But I thought I would come by and keep you company. After all, I’ve been wanting to meet my beautiful sister-in-law.”

For one split second, Inko froze.

Where was Death Arms? He had been guarding the door, he should have been able to at least stall him, or fight him, or give Inko some sort of warning she was in danger.

Had he been knocked out? Killed? Did he run when he saw Yoichi and call for backup?

Yoichi caught her glance to the door behind her and chuckled as he turned the lock. The click rang through the apartment like a gunshot.

“Don’t worry, I only knocked your pathetic guard unconscious,” he promised her. “A dead body would draw more attention than a useless hero sleeping on the job. But if you make too much of a fuss, dear sister…”

He held up his hand, and Inko saw very clearly a small black rectangle that almost looked like a cellphone, but with fewer buttons and a switch. Inko remembered what happened in Hosu, and recognized the threat.

He had a detonator. Which meant there was a bomb somewhere. If Inko tried to scream or call for help, he would no doubt set it off, and kill who knew how many civilians.

Well, at least Death Arms was alright. Unfortunately, Yoichi Shigaraki was in her apartment and she had no one to call for help.

Breathe. She had to breathe.

She knew what this monster wanted, and she refused to let him use her to hurt her sons or her husband. She would be strong like Izuku, Hisashi, and Tomura. Yoichi Shigaraki had taken many things from her, but he would not have her fear.

“Would you like some katsudon?” She asked.

Yoichi paused and for a moment Inko caught the surprise in his eyes. He almost resembled a fish, his eyes wide and jaw slightly dropped. A little bit like Hisashi when she caught him off guard with a cheeky comment, and less like the villain responsible for so many deaths in Hosu. It made breathing just slightly more bearable as she half-sarcastically gestured for him to come in.

The villain’s face twisted into a smirk as he slipped off his shoes at the threshold, and stepped past her, surveying her home (he was in her home ) with a critical eye. 

She hated how he seemed to be picking apart their lives with just a glance, finding ammunition to further twist and destroy her son. 

She hated how he almost seemed to admire the decorations, the way he barely glimpsed at the pictures of Tomura but zeroed in on ones with Izuku and Hisashi. 

She hated how he looked ruefully at the picture of her and Hisashi on their wedding day as if it pained him to see her and her husband so happy.

She hated this man, but she couldn’t let her emotions get the best of her. 

“Sorry I missed the big day,” Yoichi apologized—how in the world did he sound sincere? “If I had known my brother was getting married, I would have come and said ‘congratulations.’”

“He was sad you weren’t there,” Inko admitted bitterly, fiddling with gems on her wedding ring. “You were his only family and you weren’t there to be happy with him.”

“You don’t sound like you minded too much,” Yoichi noted idly, still not taking his eyes off of the wedding picture.

The nerve of this… this…

“I was sad because the love of my life was hurting again,” Inko answered. “But I’ve come to realize where you are involved, my husband winds up hurting.”

“My big brother hates me that much?” Yoichi responded with a mock pout.

Inko wanted to slap him. How dare he! How dare he treat her husband’s pain like it was a joke when she had seen the pain and the burdens Hisashi endured! How dare he act like his brother, one of the best men she had ever known, was in the wrong when it was Yoichi and his choices that hurt her Hisashi.

“He loves you that much,” Inko replied evenly. “But that was never enough for you.”

Yoichi reeled back as if she slapped him. Inko didn’t bother to savor the expression. She had no taste for this conversation. It was all she could do to keep her hands from shaking as she lead him to her kitchen and gestured that he take a seat. He sat down with his back to her as she finished chopping the green onions for garnish, and threw it on top of the bowl she made. It would be too easy for her to attack him while his back was turned or to run.

But Inko had raised two boys. She knew very well that was what he wanted. Like a child trying to pull a prank by presenting an obvious bait, only to pull away at the last second and cheer himself for tricking her. He might have thought himself clever, pretending to be relaxed as if she couldn’t see his body wound tight, ready to spring into action, or his fingers playing with the detonator as if itching to activate it. As if she would be stupid enough to attack the most dangerous man in Japan, even if his back was turned.

She set down the knife on the counter directly behind him and brought the food over to the table.

“I’m surprised you haven’t burst into tears yet,” Yoichi taunted, as she placed down the bowl and a pair of chopsticks beside it.

“You aren’t worth the tears,” she spat, sitting down across from him, her hand still fiddling with her ring. “Where is my son?”

“Liar,” Yoichi grinned. “I can see it, sweet sister. Your hands are shaking, you're breathing fast, and your heart’s probably pounding. I bet it’s taking everything you’ve got not to fall apart right now.”

He was right. It was taking everything for her to hold herself together, but she had felt that way long before he darkened her door. What he had done to her family had already hurt her far more than anything he could threaten her with now. However, Inko absolutely refused to let this monster see that.

“Where. Is. My. Son?” She repeated, careful not to say Izuku’s name.

Hisashi had warned her about their ritual of not learning their victim’s name until the child told them. Apparently, one of the bombs in Hosu was set off because Ingenium almost said Izuku’s name while trying to rescue him. Inko had no doubt Yoichi would leap at the chance to do it again and place the guilt of more deaths on her family.

Yoichi leaned forward, looking like a pleased cat as he took a slow, deliberate bite of katsudon, and closed his eyes in enjoyment. Inko could have screamed, knowing that he was doing this to taunt her. To keep any information about her son, just a scrap, so close and yet still out of reach.

He was cruel. A cruel, despicable scum of the earth.

“Somewhere safe,” he finally answered. “Surrounded by his new family, showered with love, and happier than he’s ever been in his life.”

“Now who is the liar?” Inko asked although she did feel a wave of relief. She knew in his mind, that this was partially true. Which meant that at the very least, Izuku wasn’t hurt. That alone was a comfort to her.

Yoichi chuckled, taking another bite of katsudon.

“Inko, how well do you really know your son? I mean, did you even know about–”

“His scars?” Inko guessed. “No, not until my husband told me after what you and your people did in Hosu.”

Yoichi grinned and cocked his head to the side, as if curious. His long white hair fell over his shoulder as he looked at her with a piercing green stare.

“Tell me, what sort of mother does that make you?” 

Inko tilted her head to the side, imitating his posture and refusing to blink as she glared at him. She recognized the jab for what it was, and that it was meant to send her into an emotional spiral so that when Hisashi came for her, he’d find her a sobbing, inconsolable mess.

The fact was that Inko had been asking herself what kind of mother she was every hour since her baby was taken. Yoichi had hurt her husband again and again, and it was his “family” that made Tomura’s life miserable before Hisashi found him. Inko would ask herself what kind of mother she was, but this monster didn’t get to do it.

“One who will do anything to get her son back.”

“Really?” Yoichi smirked, his eyes flashing with an eager hunger and anticipation. “Anything?”

Inko straightened and held her head high. She knew what he wanted her to do next. He’d want her to get on her knees and kowtow to him, and beg for Izuku’s life. He wanted her to beg for him to take her instead, to promise to do anything, to say anything he asked of her if it meant freeing her son. She would do it if she thought for one moment it would work.

Knowing him, he would ask for something terrible. Maybe promise to leave her husband, maybe to spy on Hisashi, maybe even to use the detonator herself. Then he would leave her, with her doing something terrible that would destroy her family further, while he still kept Izuku from her.

“You have done unspeakable things to make my husband question the beliefs he holds dear,” Inko answered coldly. “You have taken my baby to make him into one of your villains. You killed so many in Hosu, and you are trying to sink your claws into my family and tear us apart even more. I am not giving you the pleasure. You can’t have my pain, Yoichi Shigaraki. I will not beg from you.”

In the end, this conversation and visit weren’t about Izuku. They were about her family, and Inko refused to let him hurt her family more than he already had. She wasn’t a hero like her husband or her sons (both of them). But she refused to be helpless. She would fight back for Izuku.

“My husband loves you, Yoichi,” she said, surprised by how honest she was. “He loves you so much that he’s willing to fight you. He loves you so much, but instead, you’d rather hurt people to hurt him. You surround yourself with brainwashed captives that you call ‘family,’ because you have shunned someone who truly loves you, and you do terrible things as if it gives you meaning when you are so empty.”

Yoichi froze at her words, and Inko shook her head, a small smile coming to her lips.

“I pity you. I really do.”

Yoichi stared at her as if she had grown a tail, and his jaw went slack. It seemed that the first villain was truly at a loss for words.

“I… you… His–”

He cut himself suddenly, and she noticed his free hand flinch to what she could only assume was some sort of communication device in his ear. His eyes went wide as whoever was on the other end spoke to him, and Inko could only guess that they realized what she had done. He turned to her, and his green eyes were full of both anger and shock.

“How?” He demanded. “I was watching you. How did you get a distress signal out to Hisashi?”

Inko looked at him innocently, fiddling with the jewels on her wedding ring. Specifically, the one that when pressed sent out a distress signal to Hisashi’s agency, alerting them of her exact location.

Yoichi jumped to his feet, and his free hand flew to the detonator.

“Wrong move, Mrs. Midoriya!” He sneered.

But as soon as his fingers even inched towards the detonator, Inko activated her quirk. The black detonator flew out of his grip, and into her outstretched hand. For one heartbeat, Yoichi looked completely taken aback, and Inko realized that he either didn’t know her quirk or he had underestimated it. It seemed he was making a habit of underestimating her.

His expression darkened, even though they both knew he had lost. With Hisashi on his way to save his wife, and her with the detonator, she had taken his advantage. The only thing Yoichi could do now was run.

“Tell my big brother–-”

She was done hearing this man threaten her and her family!

She activated her quirk once more, holding her free hand out. The knife she had placed behind him on the counter flew straight towards her, and probably would have landed in her hand if he wasn’t standing in the way. Yoichi shouted with pain as it lodged into his shoulder.

“Tell my son we love him, and we are coming for him,” she told him instead.

Yoichi snarled and threw something from his pocket to the ground. There was a loud BANG and a flash of light as smoke filled Inko’s apartment. She reeled back, shielding her eyes as her ears rang. She bent over coughing while keeping a death grip on the detonator. She refused to let him yank it out of her hands while she was down.

She clung to it with an iron grip until she felt hands, safe and warm, scoop her up and carry her out of the apartment. She could vaguely hear someone calling out her name, but it wasn’t until she was out of the apartment and brought to Emergency Medical Services that she began to hear and see normally.

She wasn’t surprised at all to see both Hisashi and Tomura standing over her, both of them clinging onto her with identical looks of fear on their faces.

I’m alright,” she assured them. “I’m okay.”

Her hands were still shaking. Shaking so much she could barely hold onto the detonator, though she dared not drop it. Adrenaline still coursed through her veins as she looked down, and Hisashi seemed to recognize what it was. Gently, he pulled it out of her grip and handed it to Loud Cloud, who immediately brought it over to the police officers on site.

Tomura hugged her tightly, and Inko could feel his hot tears as he buried his face into her shoulder.

She hugged him back tightly.

“I’m okay,” she promised. “I’m okay.”

Notes:

Next Chapter:

“We didn’t mean to startle you. This was supposed to be a fun surprise to show how proud we are of you. Come on, take a look.”

Reluctantly turning his head, Izuku glanced back. They were in the dining room, where Izuku had first realized just who had kidnapped him and how much trouble he was in. However, the table was decorated with a deep green tablecloth. Streamers dangled cheerfully from the ceiling, and balloons bobbed midair. All the while, the family stood around the table, faces twisted in pity and concern.

Chapter 21: Celebration

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

All Smite wouldn’t stop smiling at Izuku.

Of course, All Smite was always smiling. That was his whole persona. But this was different. His grin was wider, holding a giddy excitement usually shared with young children on a holiday morning.

Izuku glanced around his room. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. The sturdy vault door was sealed shut, and the cameras were watching him from their vantage point. 

As well, nothing unusual had happened that morning. All Smite had brought him breakfast before taking Izuku to exercise. Now they were sitting side by side on the couch, All Smite having tucked Izuku into the crook of his arm while they watched a movie.

It was normal. Except it wasn’t because All Smite kept smiling at him.

Izuku thought back on the past several days. Had he done something wrong? Everything had seemed normal except for the fact that Yoichi and some of the other family members had disappeared for stretches of time, but Izuku assumed that’s what they had always done before they kidnapped him. He didn’t know what was going on outside of the compound. It was possible, but probably unlikely, that the heroes had found a lead. He hoped they hadn’t. He didn’t want to see another hero broken like Ingenium or a bombing or his brother or father fighting against one of the villains who had taken Izuku.

A hand settled on Izuku’s head, and he flinched.

“My boy,” said All Smite, and that’s who the hand belonged to. Izuku knew that. “Are you alright? You’ve been muttering to yourself for the last little while and sounding rather distressed.”

“I’m fine,” said Izuku, mortified and terrified that All Smite had caught him mumbling. He wouldn’t get in trouble for that, would he?

“There’s no need to lie to me, little fighter. As your father, I can tell something is upsetting you. What’s wrong?”

Izuku flinched again when All Smite referred to himself as Izuku’s father but kept his mouth shut. It wasn’t worth arguing over. “I… I just was wondering…” he trailed off, before gathering his courage. “I was wondering where everyone else was. Usually, someone else has come by now.”

If possible, All Smite’s smile grew even wider. “Ah, my boy, you’d noticed, hadn’t you? We’ve been trying so hard to keep it a secret, but I suppose you’re too smart for that. I’d imagine, though, that we can go up now.”

He stood up from the couch and pulled Izuku into his arms in a single fluid motion. Izuku squeaked but didn’t protest as All Smite strode towards the vault door.

The villain practically skipped up the basement stairs, throwing the upstairs door open with a boom. All the lights were off, turning the usually recognizable furniture and openings into looming shadows. All Smite strode confidently through the maze of darkness as Izuku shrunk into himself. The lights were always on when he came upstairs. Had he done something wrong? Was someone going to get hurt again?

“What’s going on?” Izuku whispered, but All Smite didn’t respond. Instead, he tightened his grip on Izuku.

Tears swelled in Izuku’s eyes. He had been good. He hadn’t tried to escape. He couldn’t see someone hurt again because he was too weak and useless.

“Please,” he begged, trying to get All Smite to understand. “Please.”

As the villain turned a corner, lights flashed, blinding Izuku as voices yelled.

Explosion.

Gun crack. 

Ingenium’s dazed eyes as he turned his head back to the burning city.

Screams and burning flesh penetrated Izuku’s senses.

“NO!” Izuku screamed, pressing his eyes shut against the burning lights and covering his ears. “Please, no!” he sobbed, “I don’t want to see it again. I don’t want to be there again!”

He could feel the pawing hands and murmuring voices of the people who had been murdered because of him, burned to a crisp in Second’s explosions. His chest clenched, and he panted through shallow, panicked breaths. “No, no, no, nononono. I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.”

“My boy,” someone was saying, “my boy, my boy, please, it’s alright. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Izuku wailed as the dead man’s arms wrapped around him, pinning his thrashing body against him. They were touching his head, his back. Snot clogged Izuku’s nose, and tears blinded his eyes.

Eventually, he gave up, allowing the touch as he sobbed. He deserved it. He deserved it for holding onto stupid dreams and hurting people. His dad was right; Izuku was weak. He cried and cried and cried until the tears ran dry and his chest heaved from the effort.

“Please, breathe with me, little fighter,” a voice murmured. “Come now. You’re alright. I’m sorry we didn’t consider how this must have startled you. It’s okay.”

With significant effort, Izuku lifted his head and peeled open watery eyes.

All Smite’s face loomed inches away, the usual smile gone and replaced with concern. The tears in Izuku’s eyes even made it look like the man was crying.

“There you are, my son.” Izuku felt the hand that had been consistently rubbing his back move to his head, carding through his curls. “Are you feeling better now?”

Izuku shuddered and pressed his face into All Smite’s shoulder like a young child seeking comfort from a parent.

A voice in the background cooed, and a camera flashed.

“We didn’t mean to startle you. This was supposed to be a fun surprise to show how proud we are of you. Come on, take a look.”

Reluctantly turning his head, Izuku glanced back. They were in the dining room where Izuku had first realized just who had kidnapped him and how much trouble he was in. However, the table was decorated with a deep green tablecloth. Streamers dangled cheerfully from the ceiling, and balloons bobbed midair. All the while, the family stood around the table, faces twisted in pity and concern.

“I don–” Izuku hiccupped. “Understand.”

“We wanted to throw you a surprise party. You’ve been with us for a while now, and we are all so proud of the progress you’ve made.”

Izuku scrubbed at his eyes. “I don’t understand.”

All Smite bounced Izuku in his arms. “Haven’t you ever had a surprise party before? I’ve always loved them. The decorations and traditions are a bit American, but I’ve always had a fondness for the country. I loved my years of villainy there.”

“I thought… I’m not in trouble?”

“Oh, of course not, sweetie. My poor little grandbaby. No wonder you were upset.”

From his place at the head of the table, Yoichi smiled softly. “We know this transition has been hard on you, but we wanted you to know that we’ve recognized your progress and the effort you’ve made. I’m not the only one who feels and can say that you are a valuable member of this family.”

“This party was to celebrate you, kiddo!” Daigoro yelled.

Izuku sniffled. His head ached from crying and the temporary panic that he had gotten people hurt like last time. He glanced around the room again, taking in the decorations and even the silly pointed hats sitting atop everyone’s heads.

“A party?”

“That’s right! A party just for you. Do you still feel like celebrating?”

Izuku’s eyes widened. He hadn’t had a real party in years. Mom, Dad, and sometimes Tomura would try to do something fun, but they often got called away. Hero work in his father’s case, Izuku now realized. And his quirkless status had long since prevented him from making friends.

His chest clenched with a new emotion. They had thrown him a party. Were throwing him a party. He should say no. He didn’t deserve it. But out of his mouth came a quiet, “Yes.”

The party itself was unusual, but with the number of actual party experiences Izuku had, he wasn’t entirely capable of judging.

He sat tucked close on All Smite’s lap, the villain unwilling to let go after Izuku’s panic. He randomly bounced Izuku on his knee and constantly bowed his head to whisper, “I love you, son.”

The table was overloaded with various desserts and foods, their pleasant aromas filling the room. All Smite had taken it upon himself to fill Izuku’s plate with a little of each dish, and he watched with eager eyes as Izuku ate.

The food was delicious, but Izuku found it hard to focus, his heart still beating uncomfortably fast in his chest. However, the villains held no such discomfort, laughing and cheering.

Across the table, Daigoro picked up a takoyaki ball and flung it at a distracted Hikage, but the former merely moved his head while continuing his conversation with Third. To All Smite’s left, En glanced at Izuku and gave him a knowing look.

Reaching towards his plate, En picked up a ball of rice and, with a single flick of his fingers, sent the rice ball flying across the table to smack Daigoro in the eye.

At Daigoro’s look of outrage and En’s neutral stare, a laugh slipped out of Izuku.

The table quieted, every head turning to look at Izuku. He curled into himself, moments from apologizing when Second cut him off.

“I don’t know if we’ve ever heard you laugh, brat.”

Pink colored Izuku’s cheeks.

“I think it’s adorable!”

“Super sweet!”

“But why’d it have to be at my expense?”

Yoichi clapped his hands, and the comments ceased. “Nothing wrong with a good laugh, but if we’ve reached the point of throwing food, we’re probably done eating. Which means… it’s time for presents.”

The family nodded, and every member reached under their seat to pull out a brightly wrapped package. Each stood up and carried it over to a shocked Izuku.

Izuku’s fingers trembled as he reached out towards the presents. “These are for me?”

“Of course, kid!”

“Who else would they be for?”

“Absolutely, sweetie.”

His eyes watered as he ran a finger across the crisp bows, and when they didn’t disappear, a small smile spread across his lips.

“Thank you.” 

Izuku’s hands shook as Daigoro handed him his gift. He would tell himself later that it was because he was scared of what was inside the brightly wrapped package, but he couldn’t deny there was a familiar giddiness that he felt when opening birthday or Christmas presents with his family.

He didn’t even mind or notice the encouraging squeeze from All Smite as he tore through the paper to reveal several beautiful, framed documents that looked almost like diplomas.

Attached to each one was a laminated ID card, all of them with different pictures of Izuku. Someone must have caught a few of him when he was in a better mood because in several he was smiling. However, the photos had been doctored. Some made his hair lighter or darker, some changed his eye color, some removed his freckles, and some changed the shape of his nose or gave him a scar he never had before. As he looked closer he realized that the names, dates of birth, and other key factors on the ID cards were different, and none of them were accurate. 

Akatani Hirano

Mirikumo Azuma

Yuuto Furutani

Endo Kururugi

“I had each of my contacts make you one,” Daigoro explained, the normally boisterous man almost bashful. “And the diplomas are my way to thank you for all your help learning math and science.”

Izuku tried so hard not to think of what else the diplomas meant. That he was never going to get another year of school. That he wouldn’t be able to graduate. The other villains might teach him and tutor him, sure, but he was never going to go to high school, let alone actually earn a diploma.

No, no, he wasn’t going to think about that. Right now, he was part of a party, and Daigoro clearly was hoping he would like the gift, especially after how hard the villain worked with math. So just for now, he could pretend that the tears in his eyes were from gratitude and not from another reminder that he was never going to get away from the people who had kidnapped him and murdered so many innocent people.

“Thank you. This is very thoughtful.”

Daigoro grinned and made his way over to Izuku, pulling him into a tight hug and ruffling his hair. Izuku melted into the hug and wasn’t surprised at the coos and sounds of cameras clicking as he returned it. He was returned to All Smite’s lap, definitely ignored the kiss to his temple from All Smite, and quickly moved on to the next present, this one from Hikage.

Hikage’s present contained a bunch of hypodermic needles with syringes of various sizes and lengths and several bottles of liquids. Had he given Izuku a bunch of medications?

Izuku squinted to look at the labels and felt his heart plunge as he began to read each one. Ketamine, Haldol, Morphine, Fentanyl, Insulin. Black Mamba venom, Mercury, Brown Recluse Venom, Amanita mushroom. Arsenic and cyanide mixed in liquid solutions. Chloroform. Australian Box Jellyfish poison.

“The drugs can be used for abductions and when you want to make it look like an accident or overdose,” Hikage explained. “The venoms and poisons for when you want to be obvious about who did it and show off. Chloroform for the old classics.”

He would not think about the implications. He would not think about how this meant they wanted him to one day kill or abduct someone. He would not think about the possibility the opioids presented that this family had killed a lot more people than he had thought, but they never got police attention by making it look like an accident.

He would enjoy this. Because people got hurt if he didn’t do what the villains wanted.

He thanked Hikage and gushed about how interesting the different drugs were and asked if they could go over the gift later to learn about each one’s effects and dosages. A part of him spun a daydream where he put enough of each drug in a needle and kept it on hand after the villains thought he was asleep. And then when All Smite went to wake him up in the morning, he injected him with enough tranquilizer to knock out an elephant before running to sweet, sweet freedom.

Bombs going off— Ingenium collapsing from the sniper bullet—the screams thescreamsthescreams!

Izuku couldn’t run. Not when they would kill so many people, not when they would hurt who knew how many people to get him back. The only thing he could do now was stay and pretend because it meant that they wouldn’t hurt someone else as retaliation.

The next gift was from En: a set of infrared goggles.

 “Oh wow!” Izuku gasped, trying on the goggles. “These are so cool!”

“My quirk helps obscure areas by making smoke screens,” En chuckled. “I figured if we ever do something together, these might come in handy.”

Izuku nodded eagerly, for once not having to fake his enthusiasm over the gift. At least it wasn’t a weapon or a reminder that he was trapped here. 

Third’s gift was by far the smallest. It was an envelope with a bunch of seemingly random strings of letters and numbers. Izuku stared at it in confusion for a moment before looking up to the man who showed him his scars.

 “Is this a code?”

“Very good,” Third answered proudly. “I figured you could use something else to entertain yourself with when you’re in your room. I’ll give you a hint: they are all addresses.”

“Addresses? To where?” Izuku asked, returning to the codes and trying to decipher them already.

 “Break the code, and I’ll show you,” Third promised with a teasing grin.

Second presented his gift, and Izuku was half expecting some sort of explosives like a grenade or a brick of C-4 inside. Instead, he unwrapped a set of beautiful knives, with pearls and silver in the handles, gleaming with the light of the dining room shining down on the blades.

“You aren’t ready for the big stuff yet, brat,” Second said before Izuku could even ask. “Knives are going to be your best bet for a fight right now. I’ll teach you how to use them, and then we can move on to something a little stronger when you’re ready.”

Izuku shouldn’t have felt as touched as he did at Second’s words. He knew the terrorist hadn’t liked him since the start, and even less when Izuku handcuffed him to his own bed so he could try to escape. It always felt like Second saw him as weak and useless—much like what Kacchan said Izuku was.

But instead of beating him down the way Kacchan did, Second wanted to teach Izuku to be better. To be stronger. And Izuku really wanted to feel strong once more. If he had ever felt strong to begin with.

“My turn!” Nana announced cheerfully, presenting Izuku with the next gift.

For the first time in a long time, Izuku felt a burst of hope when he opened the present. It was a cellphone.

This could change everything! With a phone he could contact his father, the heroes, the police, anyone. He could tell them where the villains were, and they could capture the villains before anyone else got hurt.

 He could speak to his mom again. To Tomura. To Dad. He could apologize. He could apologize for being so weak, for letting himself get captured, for getting all those innocent people in Hosu killed!

“It can only call those who are listed in the contacts,” Nana playfully scolded him, as if she could read his mind. “And I’ve already listed a few for you. Some of our spies in the police forces and a bunch of hero agencies. We’ll give you more as you earn them.”

“I…” Izuku started, but the words got caught in his throat. He had been so close. So close to thinking he could escape, that he could get help without anyone else dying because of him. For the first time, for a split second, he had hope and now it was taken away from him once more.

 Make them happy. Keep them happy, and nobody else will die because of me.

 “Thank you, Grandma Nana.”

Nana almost seemed close to tears at the nickname. She wrapped both him and All Smite in a hug, sandwiching Izuku between the two villains as she carded her fingers through both of their hair and kissed each one of them.

“My boys,” she cooed. “My sweet, loving boys.”

 “I love you too, Mom,” All Smite replied, hugging her back (and thus hugging Izuku as well). “And I love you, my boy.”

Izuku hated the way he fell into the hug, hated the way that he absolutely needed that hug to comfort him after taking yet another blow when he should have known better. He should have known better than to think he could ever get away from them.

Notes:

Next Chapter:

“My boy,” All Smite said, drawing Izuku’s attention up to him. “It is my turn. And I am going to give you something that is very, very important. Perhaps the most important thing I could give you.”

And with his words, a solemn silence fell across the dining room. It was far too similar to the reverent silence from Yoichi making his speech welcoming Izuku to the family on his first day here. But this time it was All Smite who spoke, gently brushing Izuku’s hair out of his face as he did.

Chapter 22: Gift

Summary:

Pain train here we come...

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Nana finally sat down, wiping her eyes, and Izuku was too focused on collecting himself to notice the look exchanged between All Smite and Yoichi.

“My boy,” All Smite said, drawing Izuku’s attention up to him. “It is my turn. And I am going to give you something that is very, very important. Perhaps the most important thing I could give you.”

With his words, a solemn silence fell across the dining room. It was far too similar to the reverent silence of Izuku’s first day when Yoichi made his speech welcoming Izuku to the family. However, this time it was All Smite who spoke, gently brushing Izuku’s hair out of his face as he did.

“You see, our family has been able to hold onto each other through a very special gift,” All Smite continued. “A quirk that first appeared when Grandpa Yoichi forced All For One to give him a meta power of his own. It builds on the collective strength of those who wield it before you.”

A quirk? Something related to his step-dad? What was All Smite talking about?

“What none of us knew,” Yoichi spoke up. “Is that I had a quirk all along: the ability to pass on my quirk to another. It was through the combination of this quirk and the quirk that All For One gave me that I was able to share longevity and strength with my first true family.”

He nodded to Second and Third, and Third gently squeezed Hikage’s shoulder.

“And when the time came, we passed it onto Hikage,” Third explained.

“And I to Daigoro.”

“And I to my En.”

“And then from me to Nana.”

“Then from me to my beloved Toshi,” Nana added, smiling at All Smite.

“And now I am giving it to you, my boy,” All Smite concluded.

Izuku stared at them, unable to wrap his head around what they were saying. In theory, it should have been impossible. It should be impossible to pass down quirks since they were based on genetic inheritance. But then, the possibility had always been discussed (even if it was never truly explored) because everyone assumed that it could not happen. As it turned out, they were right, it didn’t happen naturally. It had taken Yoichi combining three quirks–stockpiling, longevity, and passing down, to accomplish this.

It would also explain why All Smite was impossibly strong. It wasn’t just an enhancer quirk, it was the combined strength of all of the family members before him. All Smite literally had the strength of eight people together.

“You’re mumbling again.”

Izuku shut his mouth so fast that he almost bit his tongue. The adults were chuckling as if they found it adorable, and Izuku had come to expect that reaction from them. He usually mumbled whenever he was scared or stressed, and they would be quick to soothe him, no matter how unwanted the comfort was.

“You are right,” All Smite confirmed. “This quirk would not have been passed down had it not been for Grandpa Yoichi’s luck, but it was through that combination of quirks that not only have the greatest villains of each generation risen, but our family has come together. All united through the power of this quirk. And now, my boy, I give that power to you.”

Izuku opened his mouth, his mind overflowing with questions and protests.

Somewhere, deep down, he desired a quirk that could help him be a hero. Even if he had surrendered that dream to save Ingenium, he still desperately wanted to be a hero. If he had a quirk, he wouldn’t be weak anymore, and his family wouldn’t have to worry about him any longer or try to protect him.

He wouldn’t have to be the useless Deku. 

If All Smite had offered him this gift when he had first been taken, he might have kicked up a fuss. He might have shouted for them to wait, demanded a better explanation, or even asked for a few days to consider what they were offering.

But now he knew All Smite and his family. They were not offering him anything. They were going to give Izuku this bizarre quirk, willing or unwilling. Just like they were forcing him to become a villain. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t refuse them.

But… he did, right? He did want to refuse them… right?

No, that was wrong. Izuku did want it.

“Will it hurt?” he asked instead of taming his rampaging thoughts.

All Smite squeezed him reassuringly while shaking his head. 

“No,” he assured Izuku. “Do not be afraid. I will give you the power to succeed and one day surpass me. My boy, my son, my little fighter.”

And with that, he reached up with one hand and plucked out a single strand of blond hair.

“Now: EAT THIS!”

What?!

Izuku gaped at the villain, probably resembling a dead fish, as he tried to wrap his head around what he was just told to do. There were a couple of laughs around the table from Banjo and Third while Yoichi just shook his head.

“You have to consume some of your father’s DNA to inherit the quirk,” he explained. “We usually use hair just because it’s the easiest to consume without being gross.”

Oh, that makes more sense, Izuku thought absently as All Smite pressed the single blond hair into Izuku’s shaking palm. It was all happening so fast; Izuku felt like he was barely able to keep up as he stared at the seemingly innocent hair in his hand.

They were giving him a quirk. A powerful quirk that could one day make him as strong as All Smite. Something that his father refused to give him, forcing Izuku to remain weak and a target for bullying and discrimination.

They weren’t just giving him a quirk, they were giving Izuku the key to finally fit in with the rest of the world. He wouldn’t be discriminated against any longer. He wouldn’t be overlooked or seen as weak by his family anymore. If he wanted, he could be a hero. 

How long had he dreamt of having a quirk of his own but wrote it off as a fantasy? But now, it was possible. It was real. So why was he hesitating?

Why was there something screaming in him not to do this?

“I… I…”

“What’s wrong, little fighter?” All Smite asked, looking over Izuku with concern. “I promise you, there won’t be any pain. And I will train you every day until you understand the ability.”

“We all will,” Nana agreed.

What did that mean? Did that mean more people would die? Did that mean that he’d one day have to fight his father? Or Tomura? Did that mean they would want him to hurt other people?

“Little fighter.”

Izuku’s eyes involuntarily went to Yoichi, who was smiling as he approached Izuku, still on All Smite’s lap. But those green eyes were lit with the same dangerous gleam that Izuku had seen right before the villain had gone down to confront All For One.

“You are safe.” 

He gently took Izuku’s hand in his. 

“You are loved.”

He guided Izuku to lift his hand to his mouth.

That gleam… he would hurt other people. If Izuku didn’t do what they wanted, they would hurt so many innocent people, and it would all be Izuku’s fault.

Just do it. Do it. It’s not even something bad, it’s what you’ve always wanted. Just do it before someone else dies because of you.

He put the hair in his mouth and swallowed. Yoichi’s eyes flashed with triumph as he cupped Izuku’s face in his hands.

“You are home.”

The table immediately burst into applause, cheers, and whistles, and Izuku was scooped up and brought into a tight bear hug by All Smite.

“My boy,” All Smite cheered, spinning Izuku in his arms, tears of joy in his eyes. “My boy, I’m so proud of you! I’m so proud of you, my son!”

He tried to tell himself his eyes were watering from the strange way the hair went down. Not because he was scared of what he had just done. And not because he was touched by what these villains had given him and by the strength they saw in him when even his own family thought him weak.

For his own sanity, the last part was not true. It had to be a lie.

He returned All Smite’s hug (to keep up the act, not because he needed someone, anyone, to cling to right now) and buried his head until the cheers and applause died down. Yoichi still hadn’t moved and was wiping his tears from his eyes.

“Welcome to the family, little fighter,” he murmured. “In celebration of you finally receiving your quirk, One For All, I have prepared a special gift for you.”

Izuku looked at the first villain curiously, but unlike the others, he didn’t have a brightly wrapped package for Izuku to open. Instead, Yoichi walked towards the living room and gestured for everyone to follow. The others stood up, all of them with eager looks of anticipation as All Smite carried Izuku after Yoichi.

The lights were dark in the room, but this time Izuku prepared himself for the sudden brightness as someone turned on the lights. He could hold off the panic attack that had come when All Smite brought him up to the party. But the sliver of pride he felt at holding back his panic quickly became horror when he saw Yoichi in the middle of the living room.

Lying at his feet, on large sheets of plastic spread over the floor, was a young man with dark hair, blue eyes, and a combination of pale and purple skin from old burn scars with several fake staples in different places. He was glaring at Yoichi hatefully, but when he saw Izuku in All Smite’s arms, he began to frantically thrash around, rustling the plastic. His hands were bound tightly behind him, his left leg wrapped up in a clunky, clumsily made cast. 

In his hair was a bright red gift bow, and a strip of silver duct tape was over his mouth with the words ‘For Little Fighter’ written on it in black marker.

Izuku’s eyes were wide as moons as he recognized the man. He had seen him several times when he had visited Tomura’s agency. The man was a police detective who worked with Tomura and his friends.

“Dabi?” he breathed, staring at the young man in horror.

Yoichi grinned and pulled the police officer to his knees by yanking on a fistful of hair, earning a grunt of pain from his captive.

“My gift to you, little fighter. Today, you earn your quirk and make your first kill. Today, you become a true villain.”

Notes:

Next Chapter:

“I-haven’t I been good? I haven’t tried to run away. If I don’t run, no one gets hurt. P-please just let him go.”

“My boy,” All Smite said, “This isn’t a punishment; it’s a celebration. We all want to be there for you when you make your first kill. You’re part of our family, and we don’t want to miss out on your life.”

Chapter 23: Termination

Notes:

Huntress here!

All I can say is we apologize in advance for this!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Several weeks ago

Dabi passed through the night like he belonged to it. In a way, he supposed he did. The shady deals, petty muggings, and desperate faces… that could have been him so, so easily.

There was no use focusing on the past. Right now, he needed to ensure no more kids ended up as misguided as him. It was why he dragged a crazed teenage girl with a knife to All For One all those years ago. It was why he stepped in when he saw Tenya Iida wandering around and looking for a serial killer. And it’s why he had to do everything he could to find Izuku.

Dabi looked rough and unwelcoming, hell, he was rough and unwelcoming, but he’s never been one to turn his back on a kid in trouble.

He walked back to the bar he worked at, hoping to make contact with someone who could tell him where the kid was. There was always that old man. The guy would come in, act as crazy as Toga when Dabi first met her, then leave at the most convenient times. Something about him just raised Dabi’s hackles. There was something that man was hiding.

As he entered the bar, his manager’s eyes widened. The reaction was odd, but Dabi also didn’t just come into work announced like this. “I have some free time and don’t want to be alone. I won’t even make you pay me.”

“There’s been some calls to our suppliers I’ve been putting off. You hold down the fort.” And then the manager scurried off. Dabi grabbed a rag and wiped the bar counter down. It was slow at the moment, but it would pick up later. He watched in interest as a few of the villains checked their phones, paled, then paid their tabs and left. Maybe there was a job going on?

It kept going until Dabi was alone in the room. At that point, he knew something was wrong. His hand itched to his phone to send a message to the boss about this, but he was interrupted by his manager.

“Hey, can you go check how many straws we have left?”

Dabi snorted. “We always have straws.”

“Just go check.”

He shrugged. Being in the storage room would make it easier to send intel without being caught. It was dark, but the second he went to flip on the lights, there was the sound of something speeding through the air.

A boot struck his hand, and Dabi cried out. He tried to back out the door, but it was slammed shut, encasing him in darkness. No sooner had he drawn his sidearm then a foot struck his back, knocking him over and sending the weapon flying. This was bad. He was being assaulted by an unknown enemy that had already disarmed him, and he couldn’t even see.

Any attempt to make for the lights or cover was met with more strikes. Even just staying still, he was barraged. 

“I don’t know who you are, but you better knock it off. My manager will come looking for me.”

An elderly voice cackled. “Don’t know who I am? And here I thought you were looking for me.”

The lights flipped on, revealing the old man Dabi had been keeping tabs on. He was dressed in a baggy white suit with a black mask.

“No one is coming for you, zygote.”

“My manag—”

“Sold you out,” the old man confirmed with a wicked grin. Dabi thought back to how all the villains had left in small groups, how no one else had entered the bar. “He called me as soon as you came in.”

“How’d you figure it out?” 

The man had to know Dabi was a detective. That’s the only reason he could think of for this confrontation. Slowly, he inched closer to his firearm.

“It’s all in your eyes. You’re too soft, weak. You actually care,” the villain sneered. “But most of all, you were digging too deep for information on the Midoriya kid. If you had just left well enough alone, no one would have cared about such a small fry.”

When he was two steps from the gun, Dabi lunged. A boot struck the back of his head just as his fingers curled around the trigger, and Dabi saw black.

 


 

Waking up was a struggle; consciousness fought him like he had kissed its wife. His whole body ached, numerous patches of skin declaring they would like to be bruises now. The smallest shift elicited a groan of pain.

“Nana’s friend sure did a number on you.” The voice was accompanied by a low whistle.

Dabi jerked away, ignoring the protests his battered body gave. A resistance on his wrists proved them to be encased in cuffs that had been anchored to the wall by a chain. His eyes narrowed on a white-haired man standing in front of him. Leaning against the wall in the back of the room was another man, this one with spiky blond hair and a scar.

“I’m surprised you didn’t just kill me.”

The blond man let out a coarse chuff. “Oh, Third’s going to like you. Anyone who talks about death so bluntly has his interest.”

“I’ll have to invite him over for tea sometime,” Dabi snarked as his mind whirled. They mentioned Third. This was bad. Having known the boss for longer than most of the others, he was privy to more information. He’d never been allowed to see the photo, he was pretty sure only Tomura was ever allowed that privilege, but he knew who he was dealing with.

“Hello, Yoichi, your brother would want me to send his regards.”

The villain practically started to glow. “You know who I am! And here I thought my big brother didn’t let anyone know about his black sheep of a brother.”

Dabi never had great self-preservation. His primary defense mechanisms were sarcasm and sass. “Well, old people like the boss seem to think their personal experience helps youngsters learn. You were my childhood cautionary tale on why I shouldn’t murder my brother or base my self-worth on a quirk.”

Yoichi’s smile dropped. A cruel gleam entered his eyes. “I knew I was going to enjoy this part, but now I really am.”

The man in the back of the room stalked toward Dabi. Before he had a chance to say anything, Yoichi had grabbed his leg, holding it still. Dabi’s eyes widened in fear as he finally saw the crowbar the other villain was carrying.

 


 

“Wouldn’t life have been better if my big brother had just given your quirk back?”

“Screw you,” Dabi gasped out through dry lips. He was parched, starved, and his leg hurt like nothing else in his life ever had. It had been weeks, maybe months here. He had lost track of time early on when he blacked out from the pain.

“That’s not nearly as creative as your other insults. I think you’re slipping.”

Dabi stayed silent, unwilling to entertain Yoichi’s playful mood. The villain almost seemed to pout at the lack of reaction.

“My, my. Big brother trained you well. You’re almost as good at pretending to be boring as him.” The villain clapped his hands together. “I finally decided what I wanted to do with you. You see, we’re all having a little party for our newest family member soon, and everyone has to pick out presents. I’m not nearly as good at shopping as some of the others, but it then came to me.”

The villain leaned in close, and Dabi recoiled, expecting more pain. Instead, the man only booped his nose.

“Why go shopping when there’s something right here to give the little fighter? His first kill, it will be great!”

At that, Dabi couldn’t suppress his laugh, even if it aggregated his injuries. “That kid once cried when someone killed a ladybug. I’ve seen him apologize to a door. You must be as crazy as the boss says you are if you think he’d ever kill anyone.”

Green eyes hardened. “We’ll see. He’s not one of yours anymore. He’s ours now. And we’re never letting him go. I mean, we’re not letting you go either, but we also care less about your safety or happiness.”

“All I see is a whiny little brat who never got enough love from mommy and daddy, so he threw a fit when brother didn’t give him all his attention. Grow up, you’re not the only one with issues with your parents.” The look on Yoichi’s face was worth the inevitable pain his words would bring him. “Even the kid hunting the serial killer was smarter and more mature than you.”

The villain took two angry steps toward him before Dabi spoke again. “Uh uh, don’t you know better than to give people broken presents?”

“You,” the man hissed, “Are going to regret this. I can’t wait to see my brother’s face when I leave him your body.”

The villain stormed out, leaving Dabi alone with his thoughts.

At this point, he didn’t have anything as foolish as hope. He knew how this would end. But there were still a few shining lights in his life.

There was still a chance someone would find the program on his computer.

And because of the boss, people wouldn’t forget him. There were people who actually cared whether he lived or died. And some of them…

“I can’t believe the last thing I ever did with them sent them a voicemail. I hope—” Dabi choked back a sob. “I hope I wasn’t an idiot. I better have told them I loved them.”

 


 

Now

Izuku stared at the man on the floor. The bow glistened like blood, blood that Izuku would be expected to spill. All at once, the somewhat amiable atmosphere from before faded away. Even the possibility of being given a quirk and the speculation that went with it had no place in his mind. The eyes of the villains became hungry. Before Izuku’s eyes, they almost seemed to warp, becoming more feral and monstrous than before.

A loose circle formed, each of the villains picking a spot around the man Yoichi was still parading. “Well, little fighter, how do you want to do it? This is the perfect chance to try out some of your other presents!”

“I’ll go get the suitable ones,” Hikage declared quietly before leaving the room.

No, no, no, no, no. This couldn't be happening. This could not be happening. Everything Izuku had done was to keep other people from being hurt. He was good, he had been so good. Frustrated tears slipped down Izuku’s face.

“What’s wrong, little fighter, are you okay?” Nana immediately came to place an arm on his shoulder. He flinched away from it, and all the villains shifted with concern. Yoichi glared at Dabi as though it was his fault Izuku was upset.

“I-haven’t I been good? I haven’t tried to run away. If I don’t run, no one gets hurt. P-please just let him go.”

“My boy,” All Smite said, “This isn’t a punishment; it’s a celebration. We all want to be there for you when you make your first kill. You’re part of our family, and we don’t want to miss out on your life.”

The villain tried to pat Izuku’s head soothingly, but he jerked away. In a split-second and ill-conceived decision, Izuku threw his head back to hit All Smite in the nose. The villain didn’t drop him, but after a moment, he did set Izuku down to look him in the eyes. “My boy—”

Izuku didn’t pause to listen. As soon as he was on the ground, he shrugged off All Smite’s hands and backpedaled out of reach. “Don’t touch me!”

Hikage returned, holding the knives and poisons. He gently set the boxes on a table in the room before looking uneasily at Izuku. “Maybe this isn’t the time. Usually, we wait longer.”

“Nonsense,” Yoichi dismissed, “This is the perfect time. We need to prove to the little fighter that we believe he’s capable, but we also don’t want to throw him at the world without a safety net. This is the perfect compromise! Besides, we can’t wait.”

Izuku made a break for it, slipping between En and Third, being careful to stay far away from Daigoro. He didn’t run towards the exit but to Dabi. His hands fluttered nervously over the man’s leg, not knowing the extent of the man’s injuries or even how to treat such a wound. He ripped off the duct tape. “I-It’s okay. I’m going to get you out of here. I won’t let them hurt you, I promise.”

Passive cerulean eyes flitted over him before looking over his shoulder. “Kid-”

The Dabi broke off in a coughing fit. His voice was so rough and hoarse. Had they given him anything to drink?

“He needs water!”

“Good idea, you can poison it!” Daigoro declared happily, still not sensing the shift in the situation. The other villains watched Izuku with narrowed eyes and tight frowns. They looked so disappointed, but for once, he didn’t care. He had to save Dabi, even if it meant he never got to leave the vault again or worse.

Yoichi held out an arm to stop Daigoro. His face was expressionless, but his eyes burned with barely concealed mania. “Little fighter, if you need one of us to show you how, we will. If you want to make it quick and painless, we’ll let you. But you’re not leaving this room until you kill that man.”

“He doesn’t have anything to do with this, he’s not even a hero!” Izuku protested.

“He tried to take you away from us! He was trying to find you and steal you!” Yoichi exploded. A silver dagger appeared in his hands, being flipped violently back and forth. “You don’t belong to them anymore little fighter. You’re ours, and if we have to leave another body to prove that, we will. We’ll kill everyone in the city, everyone in Japan, before we give you up.”

“Kid, okay,” Dabi tried to choke out.

Everything he had been through told him to cower, to put his head down and do whatever they asked. It would be easier. They would be nice to him, and Yoichi wouldn’t have to yell at him. They wouldn’t look at him like that. It would be better just to do what they wanted and kill Dabi.

But he couldn’t accept that. Izuku could never accept laying down and watching someone die. It went against every inch of his being. The only reason he stopped fighting in the first place was so that no one got hurt. Now, he just had nothing left to lose.

They wanted to call him little fighter? Today, he’d earn that name.

Yoichi prowled towards him, shoving the dagger in his hand when he got close enough. The villain gave a pleased smile as Izuku wrapped his fingers around the hilt.

Izuku lunged at the villain, trying to remember every self-defense lesson his classes and Tomura had ever taught him. Go for the legs, that way they couldn’t chase you. Do as much damage as possible.

The white-haired villain was too shocked to react, the others letting out startled cries. As the knife grazed the fabric of Yoichi’s pants, Izuku faltered. Could he really do this? He could hit an artery and kill him. It would really hurt Yoichi, the man who told Izuku he was loved and wanted him, genuinely wanted him. He called Izuku family…

Izuku’s body moved on its own, tugging the knife out of its path before it could do so much as scratch the villain. He looked at the knife in disgust. Was this who he was now? Someone willing to stab a person? Disgusted, he hurled the knife as far away from himself as he could, distantly noting Blackwhip catching it before it could hit the wall.

Izuku expected to see disappointment or even anger on Yoichi’s face, but instead, there was a brief flash of triumph that gave way to consideration. “It’s okay to be nervous, little fighter, the first kill is always the hardest to make, but after that you’ll learn to love it. Now that your tantrum is over, you know what to do.”

Is that all they saw? A temper tantrum? Like he was a toddler instead of a genuine threat.

Screw them! Izuku slipped his arms under Dabi’s armpits, using all the training he’d done to heft the other man up enough to drag. He made it two steps towards the door before the man spoke.

“Kid, your family is looking for you,” he choked out. “Not blaming you, they want you back. Hold on. Okay, I’m not your fault.”

Desperate tears slipped down Izuku’s face. “It’s not okay! You’re not going to die here, I promise! I promise!”

“Stop, being a hero,” Dabi rasped with a painful chuckle. “Time for that later. Too young now.”

“I’m not! Everyone thinks I’m too young, my family, the villains, even you! I can do this. Let me save you!”

How could he make Dabi understand?

“When you’re saved, find my-” a cough cut off the last word, “Tell them what happened. I love them. And don’t blame.”

Izuku’s mind was filled with possibilities. A sibling? His parents? Maybe a lover? Whoever it was, Dabi could tell them himself. “I-”

“This has gone on long enough,” Yoichi declared. “The detective isn’t leaving this room alive. Toshinori, he’s your son.”

For a brief, naive second, Izuku thought All Smite was going to try to convince him to make the kill. But he misunderstood the first villain’s order.

All Smite ripped Dabi from his arms. Izuku gave a startled cry, but it was cut off when he met the detective’s cerulean eyes. Even from across the room, he blazed. If he didn’t know better, he’d almost think the man had a fire quirk from how his gaze seemed to burn with everything he was feeling. Acceptance, despair, anger, and an overwhelming sense of spite came from him. In that moment, even without knowing anything about the man, Izuku understood how unfair his life had been. Even now, Dabi made a conscious effort to be as reassuring as possible. There wasn’t a smile, just a nudge to hold his chin higher, an attempt to maintain his dignity and defiance even now.

“Wasn’t…afraid…to die.”

“I won’t kill him,” Izuku declared before the villains could try to convince him again.

“I know,” All Smite said. And then he lifted Dabi up by the neck and started squeezing.

Izuku ran forward, determined to keep his promise, to save the person right in front of him, but Daigoro lashed out with his quirk, cocooning Izuku to the point where he could barely move. One by one, the villains came forward and put a hand on Izuku. One of them even titled his head up, forcing him to watch, not that he could look away.

Only All Smite was left, strangling a thrashing Dabi. Even with all his acceptance, it was still the body’s natural reaction to fight death. It was the worst thing he had ever seen. Even Ingenium being shot, even Firefly’s sidekicks being ripped apart didn’t compare. It was so slow, and with every moment of it, Izuku could see Dabi’s pain and panic. Fighting didn’t work, begging didn’t work, nor did screaming. Izuku was what he always feared being most, useless. He was powerless.

Even when Dabi’s thrashing came to a halt, body going still, All Smite didn’t relent. The detective was held in the air for half a minute longer before being dropped to the ground like a discarded doll.

Yoichi walked out in front of him, dropping to his knees to be on eye level with Izuku. “You could have made it quick. Next time, I think you’ll make the right choice.”

A low keening noise was drawn out of him, unable to find words.

“Toshinori,” Yoichi ordered, “Finish it.”

For the rest of his life, Izuku would have that sound in the back of his mind, the slightest trigger bringing the memory to the surface. Every time someone separated chopsticks, anytime a glowstick was cracked, Izuku would be thrown back to the moment that All Smite’s giant hands drew Dabi to his chest and snapped his neck.

Everything fell away. In that moment, it was only Izuku and his failures. His eyes focused on the limp, battered body on the floor. “I-I promised him.”

All Smite walked to the others, carelessly stepping on the body in his path.

“You did,” Yoichi said, stroking his hair in a comforting gesture. “Didn’t you know? You can’t save everyone. And it’s much easier to break people than to fix them, little fighter.”

“Not my name,” he whispered, eyes still glued to the…the corpse of someone who used to be alive, someone who used his last words to try and comfort a scared teenager. A tear slipped down his cheek, and with it went the last of his resistance. He went boneless in the villain’s hold.

 


 

Yoichi hummed a nursery rhyme to himself, pouring over an old photo of him and his brother from when they were younger. Big brother had printed it in black and white because it was taken during his art phase. They were holding hands and smiling, brilliant and carefree. Little Yoichi’s gaze was on a bird, tugging the other child to go look.

“I win, big brother,” Yoichi whispered, finger tracing over the other child’s fond smile, eventually moving to cover the eyes of the brother in the photograph. “You don’t see it yet, but you’ve lost again. You’ll keep losing because you’re always alone. You only have one family member, and that’s me, but I have all of them. You don’t have the little fighter anymore, and once he makes his first kill, I’ll make sure you don’t have Sandman or that pretty little wife of yours. You’re not allowed to love anyone other than me.”

A knock came from the door, and Yoichi set the photo down, getting up to let an irritated Second in.

For a moment, they stood in silence. Then the oldest member of Yoichi’s real family spoke. “I told you it was too soon. The quirk takes longer to work.”

“I don’t know, I think that went very well. He’s taken to it faster than any of the others. Did you see him stop the knife?”

Second only grunted in acknowledgment, but that was okay. For that brief second the little fighter held the knife over his leg, Yoichi had seen the child’s eyes glow green.

 


 

That morning, Tomura was woken up. It wasn’t by an irritated staff member hounding him to do paperwork or even by someone with a job for him.

Instead, he was woken up by Toga’s ear splitting wail of despair as she saw what was left in front of the agency.

Notes:

Next Chapter:

Tomura had never seen his father so haunted. So guilty. So heartbroken. His father looked as if someone had torn out his heart, and yet he was somehow still breathing. Like he had been stabbed in the chest but somehow kept moving when he should be dead.

Tomura bent down, trying to complete his paperwork so that he had something to focus on instead of sitting still. Because sitting still would mean allowing himself to feel the grief and pain, and right now, the numbness of work was better. It was safer. It did not hurt. It did not paralyze him in the way that not even a quirk could.

Chapter 24: Aghast

Summary:

Your screams of pain and outrage in the comments are, as always, a delight to read. At this point, we're fairly certain All Smite and his family need to worry more about you than All for One XD Things are still gonna get a bit worse before they get better, but hold on! We're enjoying this ride with you.

-Zyla

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Tomura couldn’t believe it. 

He still couldn’t wrap his head around it, even though it had been… he glanced at the clock and was surprised at how much time had passed. It just seemed impossible. In a world where people could fly, where animals could open schools for heroes, and where the laws of physics seemed to bend to quirks… how could he be dead?

How could Dabi be dead?

No, no, he didn’t want to think about it. If he thought about it, then the pain would come, and he would freeze, and he would collapse on himself, and right now, he couldn’t do that. Not when the team needed him. They needed him to be strong,

Toga was still crying, held tightly by Twice and Compress. The girl who was so cheerful (and probably the only one who could compete with Izuku in being a ray of sunshine) was inconsolable.

Twice was silent as he hugged Toga, his normally cheerful face stoic. Mirio had commented he was taking it better than Toga, which was a sure sign that the student did not know Twice. The man was always talking, joking, laughing, or arguing with himself, often just to amuse his friends. If he was silent… the news had stunned him. Hurt him.

Compress was harder to read with his mask, but Tomura had a feeling he was keeping it on now for that exact purpose. But even so, the usual grace and fluidity of the magician’s movements had become stilted and jerky. As if it was hard for him to move because his body just wanted to stay still and not comprehend the news.

Spinner had ducked out of the room, muttering something about making coffee, but Tomura could hear quiet sobs coming from the break room, and heard a series of small thumps as his friend sank to the ground and gently pounded his fist against the floor. Because being still was far worse than doing something as stupid and meaningless as punching the floor.

And All For One…

Tomura had never seen his father so haunted. So guilty. So heartbroken. His father looked as if someone had torn out his heart, and yet he was somehow still breathing. Like he had been stabbed in the chest but somehow kept moving when he should be dead.

Tomura bent down, trying to complete his paperwork so that he had something to focus on instead of sitting still. Because sitting still would mean allowing himself to feel the grief and pain, and right now, the numbness of work was better. It was safer. It did not hurt. It did not paralyze him in the way that not even a quirk could.

However, as he filled out the paperwork, all he could think about was how Dabi had a mountain of paperwork that had piled up on his desk. Dabi would never do paperwork again.

Or play video games or eat sandwiches or go out for drinks with them again.

The day was cloudy, but Dabi wasn’t ever going to have cloudy days or sunny days.

The world was still turning, even though a good man had died, and Tomura couldn’t understand why.

The door of the agency opened, and everyone looked up, startled out of the empty silence that had fallen over the office. Three unfamiliar people entered, looking around with wary, nervous expressions, and he saw a wave of grief crash over Hisashi before he stood, as if bracing himself.

Tomura hadn’t seen them before. There was a young woman in her mid-twenties with white hair streaked with red, a man who looked to be about Tomura’s age with white hair and a college sweater, and a boy who looked to be about the same age as Izuku, his hair half red, half white, with a bad burn scar over his left eye.

The youngest boy met Tomura’s eyes curiously, and he felt his stomach plunge when he recognized the blue eye beneath the scar tissue. It was the same color as Dabi’s eyes.

“Fuyumi, Natsuo, Shouto,” Hisashi greeted as he approached the group. “I’m so-“

The woman, Fuyumi, took one look at Hisashi’s expression and understood instantly.

“NO! Oh no, please, NO!”

Her scream echoed through the office as she collapsed to her knees. Hisashi caught her, and she limply clung to his shoulder, burying her face into his uniform. Her brothers understood what was happening, and the older one, Natsuo, stumbled back until he hit the wall. Shouto just slowly sunk to the floor, staring in shock as tears began to fill his eyes.

“No,” Shouto muttered. “Not, big brother. Not… no…”

Fuyumi seemed divided between trying to hit Hisashi and crying on his shoulder. Hisashi allowed her to beat his chest, the look in his eyes telling Tomura he believed he deserved every hit all too well. Her heartbroken wail was like an icy dagger to his heart.

“What happened?” Natsuo whispered, somehow as clear as day. “What happened to Touya?”

Touya… so that was Dabi’s real name. Dabi had said a while back that ‘Dabi’ was just an alias, so his family could be safe. Tomura never knew who his family was. Dabi had never told him.

He hadn’t told anyone.

He and the rest of the agency had playfully debated who his family was. Sweet parents who he visited every weekend? Siblings who made up a goth rock band? A lover? A child?

Now he knew. And Tomura wished that he didn’t know. If this was the way he learned more about Dabi and his family… he would gladly go back to those days of blissful ignorance.

“We found Touya this morning,” Hisashi reported. “Coroner reports he likely died last night. We believe it was a villain attack. I promise you, we are doing everything we can to track down those involved.”

He did not say how they found him. Dumped at the agency’s door, his neck snapped, his hands bound in festive ribbon, a red gift bow in his hair, and a tag around his neck like a label.

”For Big Brother. I win again.”

None of the heroes dared to tell the siblings that, though. They would not tell them the indignity that their brother’s body had been treated with when the body was left. They wouldn’t hurt them even more with that.

“Why didn’t you help him?!” Natsuo demanded angrily. “Why was he alone? What did you let this happen? He didn’t have a quirk. Why didn’t you save him?!”

Compress stood up and approached the siblings, removing his mask so he could look Natsuo in the eye.

“Your brother was undercover, pursuing a lead,” he explained gently. “He was working to find a missing child. Your brother was a hero.”

“We don’t care about heroics,” Shouto hissed. “We want our brother back!”

“I’m so sorry. And I know sorry will never be enough, but-“

Natsuo cut Compress off when he pulled Shouto into a hug. Shouto’s shoulders were shaking with quiet sobs.

For one second, Tomura saw himself holding his own little brother, comforting him.

Would that ever happen again? Would he ever hold his baby brother again, wipe his tears, console him?

Or would he be on the other side of this story, being told by a stoic hero that his little brother was gone forever?

Despite everything he tried, a memory, from his first year interning with the agency crept back involuntarily.

He had bluntly asked why Dabi, Twice, and the others were making jokes about villains, missions, and disasters. Why were they so callous when they should be sensitive to what others were going through?

Dabi took him down to the police station and showed him a family in an interrogation room, as an officer with a stoic expression spoke to them behind closed doors.

“You see that officer in there?” Dabi had said. “He’s telling that family that their father died in a villain attack. That family is going to spend their whole day at home, mourning, planning his funeral, and crying. They aren’t going back to work or having fun tonight. And nobody blames them. But the officer? Do you think he’s going to go home and mourn? He can’t. He’s going to be there for them, and then he’s going to get back to his desk, and he’s going to get back to work because there are still people who need him.”

Dabi had turned to Tomura and sadly clasped his shoulder.

“The hardest part of this job, kid? It isn’t the interviews or the paperwork or the long hours. It’s that at the end of the day, we can’t save everyone. That’s the reality we face every day. That’s the choice we make with this job. You have to figure out how to live with that. And the way we do that? We make jokes. We laugh even though the world is messed up. We support each other. And we get up the next morning, and we go back to work.”

But Tomura didn’t get the chance to try.

He didn’t get a chance to try to save Dabi. He couldn’t even say that he gave his best effort to rescue his friend because he didn’t even know that Dabi was missing.

And now Izuku… he was trying so hard to find his brother.

But what if he failed? What if Izuku was one of the people Tomura couldn’t save?

Tomura already knew the grief would destroy him. No amount of humor or support could save him. He would–

No. No, he would not let grief consume him. Not when his family needed him. Not when Izuku needed him.

Nana Shimura. All Smite. Yoichi Shigaraki.

They had destroyed his first family. Drove Kotaro Shimura to such paranoia and fear that he took it out on his family and triggered something horrible inside Tomura.

They continually killed and hurt other people and destroyed families simply to hurt his father.

They took his little brother.

They threatened his mother.

And now they had killed Dabi.

The need to move became too much for him.

Tomura needed to do something. He needed to act, to do something real, something to fight back against what the villains had done. He had no idea what, but he just knew he had to move.

His body moved before his mind, and the next thing he knew, his feet were carrying him out the door. He barely noticed Mirio wheeling in a paralyzed Ingenium into the agency’s office.

“Where are you going?” Mirio asked curiously.

“Don’t know,” Tomura snapped. “Any suggestions?”

“Kamino?” Mirio offered.

“Sure.”

Slipping on his red jacket and mask, Tomura walked out the door, outwardly raging when inside, he was howling with grief, pain, and fear. The things he couldn’t show to anyone because he was a hero.

And he had to be strong.

 


 

Izuku had always had an overactive mind. It was constantly computing and analyzing, observing all the pieces of the world, clicking together and breaking apart. He would lay away at night, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep because his mind wouldn't shut up. 

Now though, it was memories playing on repeat, making Izuku feel like he was there again, in the moment but incapable of changing the future he knew was coming.

"It's much easier to break people than to fix them, little fighter."

Izuku rolled out of bed and stumbled over to the bathroom. The shower handle wasn't working correctly. Izuku kept looking at it, and it wasn't working. He forced himself to focus, gripping the handle between both hands and turning it, flinching as the water slammed into his face. Izuku tripped over his feet, slipping in pooling water and falling with a painful slam on his rear.

Izuku didn't get back up. He sat in the water, feeling it smash into his face and trickle down his arms.

Dabi's eyes bulged in his socket, desperately coughing. "I'm not your fault."

Izuku's skin was turning pink, but he couldn't feel anything. He dug his nails into his flesh until blood beaded up and then wrenched his hand away.

Blood sprayed out of Ingenium as the bullet pierced his armor.

The mirror was foggy, completely obscuring Izuku's view. He wiped a hand across its surface, watching the condensation form into trickles of water. Dull green eyes watched Izuku. The face in the mirror looked so… broken. There was no hint of a smile in the corners of its eyes and cheeks.

Dabi's neck lay cracked at an impossible angle, his mouth agape in death. "You could have made it quick. Next time, I think you'll make the right choice."

Izuku's clothes were wet. He might have worn them before. Did he take them off in the shower? Was there a towel? The water dripping off him formed a puddle on the ground. He wondered if he could melt into it. Was there a quirk or a poison that would make him stop? Make him nothing more than water? Izuku's toes twitched. He had a quirk now and an extra pinky joint. He should be excited. He always wanted a quirk.

Yoichi lunged toward Izuku's father. "Give him a QUIRK!"

"Never!"

There was noise, deep and creaking, and then hands on him. Touching him. Hands of dead people. Izuku's victims. They were coming back for him.

"-ttle fighter? Kid? You there? Are you okay?"

 


 

If Toshinori hadn't seen the rising and falling of his son's chest, he would've assumed the boy was dead. The boy sat in the middle of the bedroom, fully dressed and dripping water. His bangs were plastered to his forehead and hid his eyes.

Toshinori crouched down. "You alright, little fighter?" His boy didn't respond, even when Toshinori scooped him up. "Look at you, all wet. Did you not change? Did you take a shower in your clothes?"

He carried his son over to the bed, carefully depositing him on the comforter before bustling off for clothes.

Izuku had looked so happy last night when he got his presents. Toshinori had felt his son's excited trembling as he unwrapped his gifts. The look of innocent joy on his boy's face had warmed Toshinorii's heart. Toshinori had always believed one of the best feelings in the world was crushing his opponents under his fists and seeing the absolute despair on their faces. But watching his son be happy and thrive? Toshinori wouldn't trade it for any victory.

He grabbed a clean pair of clothes and brought them back over to the bed. His boy hadn't moved and showed no reaction when Toshinori said, "let's get you changed." But Toshinori was a good dad, so he gathered his boy in his arms and helped him change.

"Are you okay, little fighter?" 

His son shuddered at the nickname, his lips pulling a frown.

Toshinori didn't give up. "Did you sleep well? You were upset last night when I brought you to bed." Although that was an understatement, upon entering the bedroom, his boy had flown into a rage, screaming and crying. Toshinori hadn't cared until the boy began throwing himself against the vault door, screaming that detective's name.

For his son's sake, Toshinori had been forced to put the boy into a chokehold and send him to an early sleep.

Now though, his boy had flipped from over-reacting to unresponsive. Toshinori grabbed a blanket, wrapping it around his son. This had happened after Hosu, and they had rallied above it. Toshinori squeezed his boy tighter. "You're my fighter. We'll get over this again. I promise."

His son didn't respond, but Toshinori didn't mind. He would sit here with his son as long as needed.

 


 

"Uh-huh. Yes? Well perfect. We'll be sure to greet him when he arrives." Yoichi said. He ended the phone call, a giddy smile crawling across his face.

"What's with that look?" Second grunted.

"An update from Nighteye from his little spy. It appears we're going to have a guest soon."

Second, who had been lying on the bed, swung his legs over the edge and sat up. The scar on his face wrinkled as he frowned.

"You remember Sandman? My brother's little pet? He's making a visit to Kamino to see us. Apparently, he was quite distressed over the present I left my brother."

"Will your brother be coming too? Do I need to prepare some explosives?"

"No… I don't believe so. It sounds like he will be coming alone. Still, it would be better to be prepared. We've been given a unique opportunity. We would be foolish not to take advantage of it." Yoichi could already see the look of agony on his brother's face when Yoichi gifted him with another body. Maybe they could even set up recording devices so Yoichi could watch the realization dawn on Hisashi's face.

"What do you want to do with the brat? One for All hasn't entirely integrated yet. We can't leave him alone."

"We'll take everyone but have Banjo stay back. He can restrain the little fighter if needed and keep him safe."

Second grimaced and stood up, striding over to the armoire with his villain costumes. "I don't like only leaving one person behind. We've underestimated the brat in the past."

"That may be true, but he has One for All now. That changes things."

"Fine," Second grunted. "I'll get the group together, but you'll have to convince Toshinori to come. He won't want to leave his kid around now."

"He'll come when he realizes it's to keep his boy safe."

Second nodded and strode out of the bedroom, already calling for the other family members, leaving Yoichi behind in the room.

Yoichi braced his hands against the armoire, relishing the adrenaline rush already singing through his body. His brother's defeat was growing ever closer.

Notes:

Next Chapter:

Izuku screamed louder, and deep inside, a power answered his call. It crackled across his body in electric red and white. Banjo swore, tightening his bindings around Izuku. "You gotta calm down. You're alright. Just breathe."

"I CAN'T!" Izuku screamed, flinging an arm free from blackwhip. He reared back, the strange power filtering through him intensifying and concentrating in his arm. "JUST STOP!"

Chapter 25: Siblings

Summary:

We apologize in advance

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Izuku lay limp on the bed. All Smite had left at some point, and Banjo had replaced him. Izuku didn't care. It didn't matter which villain was watching him. Even if Izuku yelled and screamed, it wouldn't matter. Izuku couldn't do anything, couldn't save anyone.

Banjo was in front of him now, inches from Izuku's face. The harsh lines of his face were pulled into a smile. He'd been smiling when they'd killed Dabi.

Dabi on the ground, leg broken, mouth gagged, and topped with that hideous bow. Like he was a present.

"-id? Kid? Are you there?"

Izuku's eyes fluttered closed. He was drifting. Flitting through memories to watch every instance he had failed. There were a lot of them. That time in elementary when Kacchan beat up the boy at desk 13. When Firefly's sidekicks were beaten to death. When the doctor looked at Izuku through those thick glasses and told him he was quirkless. Had Izuku always been such a failure and just not realized it?

He blinked his eyes open. Banjo was lounging on the couch, fiddling with his phone. What if Izuku lunged for it, grabbed it, and called for help? A pile of bodies would be his reward. More people would be dead because of him.

Izuku looked down at his hands, and even as he blinked rapidly, he could see sticky, crimson blood dripping from them. He could feel it congealing underneath his fingernails and drying on his palms.

Izuku dry heaved, gagging on his stomach acid. Stumbling, he ran back to the bathroom, shoving the sink's faucet up. There was blood on his hands, and it wasn't coming off. He pumped the soap until a thick, greasy layer coated his hands, and then scrubbed and scrubbed. But it wasn't coming off. The Dabi's blood was still there. Dabi was still in his arms. Izuku had promised him he wouldn't die.

Dabi smiled at him, "Stop being a hero."

Izuku collapsed to the ground. His chest rattled with deep, heaving sobs. "I'm sorry," he wailed. "I wanted to be a hero. But every time I try, someone gets hurt. And it's my fault. I keep hurting them. I can't keep smiling and pressing on, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please, Dabi, Ingenium, Tomura, Mom, Dad… forgive me."

He gasped. His lungs weren't working. He couldn't make them fill up enough.

"What do I do? What do I do? I just wanted to be a hero, but I'm a monster."

Black tendrils wrapped around him, pinning his arms to his side and pulling him out of the bathroom. Izuku wailed, thrashing against them. "No, I've got to get it off. It has to come off. I don't want them to die. I don't want them to die!"

"Kid, it's alright. You're alright. No one is dying."

Izuku screamed louder, and deep inside, a power answered his call. It crackled across his body in electric red and white. Banjo swore, tightening his bindings around Izuku. "You gotta calm down. You're alright. Just breathe."

"I CAN'T!" Izuku screamed, flinging an arm free from blackwhip. He reared back, the strange power filtering through him intensifying and concentrating in his arm. "JUST STOP!"

Power exploded out of Izuku, and the force of it threw Izuku and Banjo back, slamming them into the vault's wall before falling to the ground.

Izuku moaned, his lungs wheezing from getting the air knocked out. He shifted on the ground, stopping when the movement sent red-hot pain through his arm. He tilted his head to look for the pain but saw bloody purple flesh. His finger twitched, and the mutilated flesh twitched in kind.

That was his arm, he thought. A hysterical laugh bubbled in his chest. "I broke my arm. Mom's gonna be so mad."

Beside Izuku, Banjo groaned, his eyes pressed closed and a trickle of blood running down his forehead. Banjo had taken the brunt of the hit, stopping Izuku from hitting the wall directly, and it looked like now he was unconscious.

Izuku dragged himself to his feet, alternating between staring at his bloody, broken arm and the unconscious villain. Unsure of what to do, Izuku poked his arm, tears welling in his eyes from the pain but not falling. Raising his head, Izuku examined the room. The furniture had been destroyed by the maelstrom of Izuku's punch. The bed and couch were splinters, and the T.V. was broken glass. But most glaring of all was the massive hole in the side of the vault.

Izuku stumbled over to it, not believing his eyes; there was a gap of shredded metal and steel that would allow Izuku to step out and escape. He could run. He could leave. But should he? After everything he'd done? Why would his family ever want to see him again… Izuku didn't deserve to see them again.

But Izuku's feet pulled him closer and closer to the hole until he was stepping through it and out into the hallway. He shouldn't do this. He shouldn't run away.

His hands were still bloody, and he couldn't tell if it was his own or the blood of everyone he hurt.

However, his feet began to move on their own, picking up speed as he sprinted down the hallway.




 

Tomura… had no idea what he was doing.

He had gotten on the train to Kamino, stepped off, and just started to wander wherever his feet took him. It felt like Tomura's world had been caught in the devastation of decay and was now slowly crumbling to ashes. 

Dabi was dead. Izuku was missing. Tomura had hurt his mother and then almost lost her to Yoichi Shigaraki. His father blamed Tomura for the scars Izuku, and maybe he had a point. 

All Tomura wanted was to make his family proud. He wanted to be Izuku's hero, but instead…

Instead, so many people had died.

Instead, with every passing day, he felt like he was farther and farther away from finding his precious little brother. 

He felt like he was seven again, when he had gotten a brand new video game and in his delight, had accidentally pressed all five fingers against it. In despair and terror, he had frantically tried to cling to the decaying game, to try and force the crumbling pieces together. In the end, there was nothing but tears and dust coating his hands. 

Was that what was happening to his family? Had he loved them too much and tried too hard, so now, even as Tomura frantically tried to hold on, their bond was turning to dust?

He was losing sight of his little brother with every missed minute, hour, and moment that Izuku was in the hands of the villains and not safe at home.

And now, Dabi's family would feel the same. They would spend their next days scrambling to put their lives back together, even though they knew their brother was never coming home again.

And what could Tomura do? Just wander the streets of a strange district, trying to sort through his feelings like he was still a hot-headed teenager, unable to comfort Dabi's siblings, hold his mother, or help his father. Unable to do anything to save his little brother.

He was cursed like his quirk: doomed to only destroy and unable to save his precious brother. 

He brushed off the stares, the people running up to him, recognizing him as Sandman, instead ducking into the back allies and isolated parts of town. He didn't want to be around people right now. He had a feeling he'd do something he would wind up regretting if he was around people. Last time he was like this, and he was around people…

You're not my mother."

He wasn't doing that. Not again. He couldn't hurt anyone else he loved. He couldn't lose anybody el-

He was abruptly cut off from his thoughts when someone slammed into him. Tomura cried out more from surprise than pain, the person somehow having enough strength to send him falling to the ground when they collided, despite them being a good deal shorter than him.

"Hey, watch it will-"

He froze, heart and breath seeming to stop as he finally looked at the person who had run into him. Wild green curls, freckled cheeks, wide, innocent eyes full of tears.

"Izuku?!"

His baby brother started in shock, then looked up and recognized the figure he had run into. For a second, those green eyes were a mixture of pain, disbelief, hope, and despair. As if part of him desperately wanted it to be real but was too afraid and hurt to trust that it was.

Why? Why did one of the kindest, most hopeful people Tomura knew have to look like that? What had those villains done to fill his brother's eyes with such agony?

"Izu-"

"Tomura!"

Izuku shouted his name like a prayer. Not even a heartbeat later, Izuku closed the distance between them and threw himself into his brother's arms. Without hesitation, Tomura wrapped his arms tightly around his baby brother, untold relief sweeping over him like a tidal wave at Izuku's very presence.

He couldn't believe it. He couldn't… what… how…

No, none of that mattered. No question in the world could matter now.

Because his baby brother was in his arms, he was alive, he was breathing- Thank goodness, he was alive and breathing- and that was more than enough for Tomura.

It didn't matter that his brother was wearing clothes clearly designed to resemble All Smite's villain costume or that they were hugging in the middle of an abandoned alleyway.

It didn't matter that-

Okay, it did matter that Izuku's arm was purple and very clearly broken and bloody- what had those bastards done to him?!- but even Tomura couldn't think about that, his thoughts consumed by the singular knowledge that Izuku was here.

Izuku was sobbing, and Tomura's eyes were going misty as he held his brother tightly. Tomura had no idea how long he held his brother, how long the two of them cried as he rocked Izuku back and forth. All he knew was he didn't want it to end. He was never losing his brother ever again.

"Tomura," Izuku sobbed. "Tomura, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Sorry? For what?"

Tomura tucked his brother closer and did his best to avoid touching the mangled arm- they needed to get him to a hospital- no, first they needed to call Dad- no, they just needed to get out of here- Izuku was here!- as his brother leaned into him, holding fast to the black body suit.

"I-I'm so sorry for being so-so weak!" Izuku wailed. "I'm so sorry. It's all my fault!"

And just like that, the floodgates opened, and the words Izuku had been holding back for months finally poured out to the ears of one of the people he trusted more than anything.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get caught! I didn't- I didn't- I didn't mean to! I just wanted to help Firefly. I didn't mean to get taken, I swear. I didn't mean to get Ingenium killed! I tried to save Dabi. I tried so hard! I tried so hard, Tomura. I didn't mean for the bombs to go off. I tried so hard to stop them from hurting Dabi. I tried to escape, but I didn't want the bombs to go off again, I didn't want to hear the screams, I didn't want someone else to die because of me, and I'm so sorry!"

Tomura did not know what else to do besides cradle his brother in his arms.

"I got so lost," Izuku sobbed. "I got so lost, and— and at night I would— and I was all by myself- and you weren't there. Mom wasn't there. Dad wasn't there. And they would come and they would hold me, and they would love me and I didn't know what to do. I got lost, and they did terrible things, and I couldn't watch, but I couldn't leave because more people get hurt if I leave, but then it wasn't enough for them. They just kept demanding more, and they'd never stop loving me or let me go. I didn't mean to get so lost!

"It's okay," Tomura promised him. "It's okay. Izuku, I promise, none of this was your fault. It's okay."

"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I'm so weak. I'm sorry I got so lost."

"Shh," Tomura whispered. "It's okay, little brother, it's okay. I promise everything is going to be okay. I'm going to get you home, and we'll figure this out."

"I missed you so much!"

"I missed you too, Izuku. You… you have no idea how badly I missed you."

Izuku sobbed again, tears and snot staining Tomura's uniform, but he did not care. Izuku could burn it, and dance on the ashes of his costume for all Tomura cared, so long as it meant his little brother was safe and home.

Both brothers were too busy holding each other that they didn't notice the two approaching figures until it was too late.

"Huh, would ya look at that?" Banjo's voice called out. "We've been looking for you, Sandman."

Izuku froze, and Tomura looked up to see two figures he recognized from All For One's reports.

Banjo Diagoro and En.

Black Whip and Smokescreen.

Father and son, and En was Nana's "father."

It was like Izuku had become a statue with how still he was in Tomura's arms, clutching his clothes like it was his only hope of survival.

En smirked, twirling a knife in his fingers as smoke started to emerge, and black strands of energy stood at alert from Banjo.

But then both villains paused when they recognized the child crying in Sandman's arms.

"Oh hell," Banjo muttered. "What are you doing here, little fighter? I've been looking for you but didn't expect you to run into him."

Tomura was on his guard instantly, arms still wrapped protectively around his brother. The villains were clearly taken aback that Izuku was with him, but he couldn't afford to think that would give him an advantage. These were some of the most dangerous villains in the last two hundred years.

"Tomura," Izuku gasped, his breathing becoming frantic and fast. "Tomura, don't. Please don't."

Tomura looked down and saw his brother's eyes wide with fear. Izuku was begging that Tomura not endanger himself by fighting the villains, but he was also pleading that Tomura wouldn't let the villains retake Izuku.

No way was he letting his brother go back to them. He just got his little brother back. He wasn't losing Izuku again.

Banjo glanced at En, neither of them missing how tightly Izuku was clinging to Tomura or the way Tomura curled himself protectively around Izuku. Their little fighter had run straight into the arms of the man they were hunting. If they didn't act now, Toshinori's son could be lost to them.

The father and son shared a look and immediately understood what had to be done.

Getting their little fighter back home was the first priority. Only one of them needed to be here to take down Sandman and buy the other time.

"Bring him back home," En told his father. "I'll catch up with you once the scum's dead."

Banjo nodded and ruffled his son's hair.

"Have fun, kiddo."

"I will, Dad."

With that, Black Whip shot out, and wrapped around Izuku's waist, yanking him back. Izuku cried out in pain and alarm as his broken arm was moved, but his good hand still kept a death grip on Tomura.

"NO!"

Tomura held onto Izuku as if his world depended on it. He just got his brother back; he couldn't lose him now. Even as the villains cirlced closer, Tomura found himself unable to tear his gaze away from Izuku's terrified eyes. 

"Tomura! Tomura, don't let them take me! I don't want to go back. I want to go home!"

"I've got you!" Tomura promised. "I've got you, it's okay! I'm not letting go, Izuku!"

Banjo tried to pull him back again but stopped when Izuku screamed in pain, refusing to let go of his brother.

"Stop it!" Tomura shouted. "Stop hurting my brother, you bastards! Can't you see you're killing him?!"

Neither brother cared that the area was becoming clouded with En's smoke or that Banjo was wrapping strand after strand of Black Whip around Izuku's waist, legs, and even his good arm.

"Tomura, don't leave!" Izuku begged. "I don't… I can't…"

"I'm not going anywhere, baby brother."

Without warning, one of Black Whip's strands lashed out and collided with Tomura, hitting him in the chest. Tomura doubled over as the breath was knocked out of his lungs, but he clung to Izuku as tightly as he could.

"Don't hurt him!" Izuku shouted. "Don't hurt my brother! Please-"

He was cut off when Black Whip wrapped around his mouth, muffling his pleas. Tomura cried in rage at seeing his brother bound like an animal, and in his fury, was oblivious of the figure that appeared out of the smoke, knife in hand.

Izuku felt a spike of fear and adrenaline as he saw the murderous gleam in En's eyes as the villain who comforted him and played video games with him lunged to kill his brother.
Without thinking, Izuku stopped holding onto his brother and instead, pushed him back with all his might.

En's strike missed, barely cutting through Tomura's gloves. The material fell off, leaving all five of his fingers free. But Tomura couldn't even bring himself to care as Izuku was pulled through the smoke and out of sight.Banjo took off with the boy as soon as he had him, leaving En and the hero to fight in En's smokescreen.

Notes:

Next Chapter:

En appeared in the smoke once again, missing Tomura’s trap by inches. His knife shot out, and Tomura was barely able to dodge as the knife clipped him on the side. Tomura didn’t even make a noise as he tried to disarm the villain, only for En to vanish back into the fog.

“He used to cry out for you when he was asleep, you know,” En’s voice rang out.

Chapter 26: Deteriorate

Summary:

Hello lovely readers!

This chapter, we have a special shout-out/thank you to Chaotic Deer! Deer actually helped write a portion of this story and played a major role in helping the rest of us authors plan out the story. The events in this chapter, in particular, were originally suggested by Deer. As well, Deer has graced us with two AMAZING pieces of artwork. One at the beginning and one at the end. Highly recommend checking out the other fics and artwork Deer has done.

We all hope you enjoy this chapter! It's one that we've been looking forward to sharing for a loooooong time!

-Zyla

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Sandman

"NO!" Tomura screamed as he watched his brother disappear from him again. "Give me back, my brother!"

En chuckled as he took a couple of steps back, allowing himself to vanish into the smoke.

"Your brother?" En sneered. "He's ours now, hero."

Right, Tomura also had a villain attacking him. A villain who was stopping him from saving his brother. He needed to focus. 

Snarling, Tomura reached into his jacket pocket and slipped on his mask, the support equipment whirling into action just Tomura shoved his hand against the ground. 

"I don't have time for this!" he snarled. 

He decayed a spot in the asphalt and quickly moved two meters back before decaying another spot.

All For One's research had said that En was just as blind in his smokescreen as an average opponent but made up for it by figuring out his enemies' locations through sound and movement. Tomura's mask acted more of a filter and eye protection for when he used his quirk, so he was just as blind as En.

But if En was trying to pin him based on his movements, that also meant he wouldn't be expecting areas of decayed ground to act as traps and potholes. If he could trick En into stepping into one… he had him.

He didn't need to fight the villain. Just trip him up enough to get out of this haze and find his brother.

"You know, you should thank us for not killing you in front of him, the way we did Ingenium and… oh, what was the detective's name?" En taunted.

Dabi. His name was Dabi. And he was a good man.

The hardest part about this job, kid, is that you can't save everyone.

Not this time. Tomura would save him this time. He would save his brother, even if it killed him.

"Huh, that's not a bad idea, actually," En mused from within the smoke as Tomura carefully decayed more holes for traps. "Maybe take you back to base, see if our little fighter's finally ready to make his first kill. I'm sure Grandpa Yoichi will love it."

En appeared in the smoke again, missing Tomura's trap by inches. His knife shot out, and Tomura was barely able to dodge as the knife clipped him on the side. Tomura didn't even make a noise as he tried to disarm the villain, only for En to vanish back into the fog.

"He used to cry out for you when he was asleep, you know," En's voice rang out.

Don't let his words get to you. Focus on the traps. Focus on making traps and tripping him up, so you can find Izuku.

"'Tomura, I'm scared!' 'Big brother, please find me!' 'Tomura, you're a hero. Why haven't you saved me?'"

Tomura froze, and En's knife lashed out again from the smoke, stabbing into Tomura's leg. A couple more inches and it would have nicked his artery. 

Tomura darted back, not giving En time to pull out the knife, but the villain smiled before disappearing back into the smoke. The metallic hiss of metal informing Tomura that the villain had another knife.

"I think it was when he watched Ingenium die that he realized that his big brother wasn't coming to save him. He started to let us love him and protect him. After all, his big brother failed him, but we wouldn't."

"Shut up!" Tomura screamed. "Give him back, you bastards! IZUKU!"

En laughed, low and triumphant. "Izuku, huh? We've been trying to get his name for weeks now. Thanks for your help, Sandman." 

The villain's words rang in Tomura's head, repeating his little brother's name, and something in Tomura snapped.

Something powerful, something angry, something that lurked beneath his skin begging for release. It had been there the day that Kotaro Shimura had died. It had laid dormant, tamed by the love All For One and the Midoriyas gave him.

But at hearing the villain's taunt, it refused to be held back any longer. It roared to life, and Tomura embraced it like an old friend.

It crawled up his skin, leaving flaking patches and turning his mask into dust before exploding outwards. 

All around him, the alleyway decayed.

Complete destruction radiated out around him. The ground cracked, the surrounding buildings started to shift as their structure was unbalanced, and even the air was no longer smoke but a hurricane of ash and dust.

And while En might have trained himself to target enemies within his smokescreen, the ash and dust of destruction belonged to Tomura. He had foolishly assumed because Tomura was fighting blind, he had the advantage, but he was wrong.

In this environment, fighting blind, Tomura was the one who was far more powerful.

A creature of complete chaos and destruction. The same monster who had killed his family that day, twisted from Kotaro Shimura's fear of these very villains.

The monster they had created.

He could hear En fall, coughing as he fought to clear his lungs, knife clattering to the ground. Despite Tomura's injury to his leg, he jumped towards the sound, his arm outstretched.

DIE!

He only had time to see the fear in En's eyes as his hand slammed over the villain.

The sixth wielder of One For All became dust beneath his fingertips.

Elsewhere, seven villains all stopped in horror.

As one, they all felt something echo through the quirk that connected them. A terrible pain, as if they had been stabbed in the heart with a red-hot blade, as if a piece of themselves was suddenly ripped from their bodies without warning.

And as one, all of them knew what had happened.

Meanwhile, the boy wrapped up in strands of Black Whip, struggling and crying to return to his brother, screamed in agony as the quirk within him howled in loss, and his vision became black. 

Tomura collapsed to his knees as the smoke and dust cleared around him. He could only stare down at his hands covered in blood, the decayed remains of En before him.

But it wasn't En's blood on his hands.

It was Hana's. It was his mother's. It was his grandparents, Mon-chan, Kotaro's… it was his family's blood that stained his hands.

Izuku… Izuku, what have I done? What did I do?

"They'll twist you into a villain, just like them, Tenko."

Kotaro… Dad… I… what have I become? What am I?

Mom… Hana… help me…

"You did it, Sandman!"

"That was one of the villains from Hosu, right? Sandman, you saved everyone. You're a hero!"

"Don't worry about the damages, son, okay? I'm just glad you got him before he hurt anybody else."

"Three cheers for Sandman!"

Please… Please don't cheer for me. I'm not a hero. I'm a murderer. I'm…

A monster. He had become a monster.

All around Tomura, people cheered and applauded him, as he stared at the blood on his hands, inwardly screaming for help where nobody could hear. 

 


 

Inko wrung her hands nervously. Even if she hadn't been there, she'd seen the news. Izuku...he had been so close. She had been so close to having her son back, then the villains took him away again. When the smoke had clouded everything, trapping Tomura inside it alongside that monster, she panicked. Mental preparations were already being made for the worst-case scenario. If either of her sons came back in a body bag or even worse, left out at the door to her husband's agency like some sick gift (she'd heard what happened to that poor detective)...

But Tomura survived. Tomura survived, and that was what mattered most.

(Don't think about the rest. Don't think about the body; there was nothing left of. Don't think about the look in Tomura's eyes, the sheer joy, and freedom that shone through them when everything was crumbling around him. Don't think about those few seconds where she had been scared of her son before he realized what he'd done, and horror bloomed on his face. She was a terrible mother.)

And Inko was a good mother. She hadn't ever hesitated to offer him a hand, not even after learning about Decay. Right now, Tomura just needed someone to stand by him. She couldn't heal wounds, she couldn't go toe to toe with powerful villains, but she could be a non-judgemental source of reassurance for him.

Mind made up, she walked through the hospital. “I’m here to see Tomura Shigaraki. I'm his mother."

After verifying her identity, they let her through. (Her husband must have called ahead to ensure she wouldn't be kept away.) What remained of her family was already waiting inside. They seemed to be having a conversation.

Maybe it would be best to wait. Inko would stay outside the room until she heard that they were done or if there was a good time for her to enter.

She could hear Hisashi's voice through the door. "The doctors say your injuries are light. This was more of a precaution than anything else. They want to hold you overnight in case anything was in En's smoke, but otherwise, you'll be cleared."

"Great."

Inko's heart sank at Tomura's clipped reply. Those two had always been so close, but ever since Izuku had been taken…

Her family was coming apart at the seams.

"Tomura, I just want you to know, what you did, the actions you took… I'm proud of you."

"What?"

"You stopped one of them for good. Now, En won't be able to add the lives of any more innocents to his tally. This might even show them that keeping Izuku will cost too much. Maybe they'll arrange a ransom, and we can get him back."

Oh, Hisashi. That wasn't what Tomura needed to hear. Inko was about to walk in before she heard her son's voice again.

"You." Tomura's voice shook with rage. "I thought you knew me. I thought you saw me. No one else cared! When I killed my family, no one else offered me a second glance. But you offered me your hand, your home. You helped me. You said I wasn't a monster because I didn't mean to do it, that you'd make sure I never accidentally hurt someone again."

"Tomura—"

"NO!" Tomura's ragged breaths could be heard through the door. "YOU SPENT YEARS TEACHING ME I COULD BE SOMETHING MORE THAN A MURDERER! YOU GET TO OFFER ME PRAISE OR TELL ME IT'S OKAY! I'M A MONSTER! WHY CAN'T YOU SEE THAT? WHY CAN'T ANYONE SEE THAT?"

"I'm sorry if I hurt you, I didn't mean it like that, but you need to calm down."

"You know what? I do need to calm down. Tell the doctors I left."

"Wait!"

A moment later, Tomura stormed through the door. He didn't notice her at first, turning to face the wall and letting out ragged sobs.

Gently, she stepped forward to put a hand on his shoulder.

He whirled around and grabbed her, quickly switching positions and pinning her against the wall, four fingers wrapped around her throat. His eyes burned, making him unrecognizable. At that moment, she was afraid of her son. For years, she trusted that he would never hurt her, hurt anyone, really. But right now, she was terrified for her life.

A small whimper escaped her, and it seemed to jolt Tomura back to awareness. He stumbled back and looked at his hands in horror. "Mom, I, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to!"

Inko pushed away everything she was feeling. Right now, comforting her son was all that mattered.

She was a terrible mother, he had needed her to accept him, and she flinched away. She hesitated to trust her own son.

"It's okay, Tomura. You didn't hurt me."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, Hana!"

"I'm not Hana. You need to breathe," she tried to get through to him.

He shook his head rapidly, raking his fingernails along his neck. "No, I need to get out, I need to get away. I need, I need space."

Before she could do anything, he tore through the halls.

From the door, she could still hear Hisashi muttering to himself.

"If I had just taken his quirk, if I had never taken him in…if I had never married Inko…"

No. Oh no. Not you, too, Hisashi. Inko wanted to cry. I need you. I need you not to give up.

Inko felt that even if she was with her husband and Tomura instead of crying in a hospital hallway, she'd be surrounded by strangers.

 


 

Tomura had gotten a hold of himself as he walked to the agency. What was he becoming? Back there, for a moment, it hadn't been his mom he was looking at. Why couldn't he have just kept it together? Why can't he ever seem to keep it together and hold on to his family?

Every time he tries, they slip through his fingers like dust.

Maybe he's just cursed.

"Shigaraki," Mr. Compress called him, snapping him out of his head. "What you did, know that we're here for you. All of us. When you're ready to cry, scream, or mourn, we'll be here."

His coworkers…his friends were a league of their own. They were all like him, people who had been lost long before they'd been found. And here they were, not absolving or condemning him, just offering to stand by his side.

"I…I could really use someone to talk to right now."

Mr. Compress nodded and led him through the agency to the workroom with everyone's desks. "Almost everyone is still scattered about. We shouldn't be bothered here."

"I killed him." It came out broken, almost like a question.

"You did," Mr. Compress agreed. "We are the last people to judge you for it, but we all were very concerned. I think you scared Toga when you did it."

"I never wanted any of you to be scared of me," Tomura mumbled.

"She wasn't scared of you. She was scared for you. She, more than any of us, knows what it's like to get lost in the thrill of your quirk. None of us want you to ever be lost again." His friend took off his signature mask. "And if you ever find yourself lost, we'd gladly lose our way to bring you back."

Tomura swallowed. "I—"

DING

They both startled at the sound.

"Ah, I'll go see what that's about," Mr. Compress told him. A few seconds later, he was standing in front of Dabi's computer with a shocked look on his face. "You need to come look at this. Tell me I'm hallucinating."

Wary, he looked at the screen. The notification was an alert for a program. A very illegal program used for monitoring calls on devices. What was Dabi up to?

Impulsively, he opened the program.

"Shirgaraki, are you sure that's wise?"

The program connected them to a call.

"Okay, Tamaki. Just make sure Nejire doesn't steal my socks and blame it on trolls again. Bye."

It ended, leaving them both in stunned silence.

"I don't get it," Mr. Compress began, "Why would he tap Mirio's phone?"

Realization hit Tomura like a punch to the face. "They knew I was coming. They said they had been expecting me."

"What do you mean? Who knew you were coming?"

"The villains! The ones who took my brother! They knew I was coming, and there was only one person I told before I left." Tomura watched the other realize what he was saying. "Look at the other files!"

An old call was opened.

"Sir.

"Mirio, It's been a bit since we've checked in."

"I've learned a lot. For one thing, I learned about Sandman."

"And what did you find?"

"His mother's name is Inko Midoryia."

"Just like…"

"Yep. He's Izuku's brother. Adopted brother. Not just that, but All for One and him had a falling out. Sandman is coming apart, not even letting any of his coworkers get close to him. I'm not sure he's sleeping."

He closed out of it, not needing to hear more.

"Compress, where is Mirio right now?" Tomura asked slowly.

His unmasked face paled. "He took Toga out for dessert to try and cheer her up."

 


 

Tomura losing it:


Scary Tomura

Notes:

Next Chapter:

Izuku wasn’t sure how he was able to fall asleep.

Or maybe it had been too easy. He hadn’t ever really come out of his daze since Banjo brought him back to the base. Back home to his family. Dissociating had been easier than facing his family and the pain of his mauled arm. Maybe he had always been half asleep and just slipped completely without realizing it.

But when he opened his eyes, he was standing in the vault once more.

Except it wasn’t the vault.

Chapter 27: Suffocation

Summary:

One For All begins to take root...

Notes:

Hey guys!

We absolutely loved seeing y'all's reaction to last chapter, and we are super excited to see what you guys think of this one! I'd say we apologize in advance but... yeah, I think we're sorry not sorry for this one!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Every member of the family felt the moment En died. For Yagi, it felt as if his guts had been ripped out. He lurched forward, gripping his stomach, feeling his lungs constrict as his body tried to figure out how to survive when missing such an essential part of himself.

Nana had collapsed onto the sidewalk, the flight ripped out of her. The pain pulled a deep wail from her that had Yagi shuddering. “Dad,” he had heard her gasp.

Despite the burning need for revenge, their aching group had struggled back to their home, each nursing the pain in a different way.

Now, they sat huddled in the living room, not speaking as they struggled to comprehend how En could be gone. Yagi sat with his back against the couch, keeping his son’s limp body resting next to him. Third stared blankly into the wall, his fingers fiddling with a long knife while Banjo’s blackwhip curled and flared, reaching out for a son that was no longer there. However, each could feel the aching gap inside One for All, the quirk recoiling from the loss.

“I shouldn’t have left,” Banjo muttered, cupping his head. “Why was I such an idiot.”

“You didn’t know,” First said. Of the entire group, he looked the calmest, his face folded into a neutral expression, but Yagi recognized the glint in Grandpa Yoichi’s eyes. Murder of the most brutal kind was being planned and envisioned. “My brother has never condoned extreme force against villains, and certainly not death. Sandman was acting on his own. The plan to break my brother’s group has been successful, but not in the way we imagined.”

“But En is gone!”

“It’s my fault,” Banjo muttered, “I shouldn’t have left him alone.”

“You were protecting the kid,” Grandpa Yoichi reminded him.

“And it was my fault he escaped in the first place! I knew he had One for All, but I never expected it to react so violently. It busted a hole clear through the vault! We’ve used that thing for ages! Not even Toshinori managed to break through.”

“He shouldn’t have run in the first place,” Second snapped.

“He was scared and upset. And besides, the damage One for All did to him… I might’ve run too.”

Yagi glanced down at his boy’s mutilated arm, the bone clearly cracked and the flesh an ugly mottled purple. They would need a doctor or someone with a healing quirk to help piece the boy’s arm back together. But that wasn’t even considering the impact En’s death had on the boy.

Through One for All, each prior member had felt the death ripple through the lingering power residing inside them. But the current holder would have felt the full impact. When En died, their little fighter had a seizure, his limbs twitching and body spasming. The seizure had only lasted a few minutes, but even now, the boy had a glazed look in his eyes. He was there, but not really.

“One for All grows stronger with time as its power binds us together. We simply did not understand how powerful it would be.”

Yoichi’s eyes settle on Yagi’s son. “This boy will someday be the strongest of us all.”


 

Amidst the words and the gazes, Izuku floated.

He could feel Tomura’s warm body next to his. Those hands wrapped tight around him as his brother promised he wouldn’t leave. And then the black, the bindings, the tears as Izuku was ripped away. Izuku had screamed through the gag, begging for his brother as he was carried away. Izuku had fought, ignoring the deep throbbing pain as he fought against Banjo and begged to be taken back. Instead, Banjo had moved faster, using Blackwhip to swing through the streets and alleys of Kamino. They had been mid-air, Banjo’s scowling face inches from Izuku’s when it happened.

En died.

Izuku’s head had seared in agony, feeling as if it was being pounded open with a brick, split from forehead to neck. His heart had stuttered, reaching out for a soul that was no longer there. Izuku had been unable to breathe, to see. He had vaguely felt arms wrapping around him, carrying him, but nothing mattered besides the pain.

And then it was gone. The pain was fleeting.

But it didn’t matter, not when En was still dead.

Izuku couldn’t muster any energy to move or a tear over failing in his escape. He laid limp on All Smite’s lap, allowing him to stroke Izuku’s hair and tuck Izuku close. All Smite was always so gentle with Izuku. Despite his large stature and great strength, Izuku knew the villain wouldn’t hurt him. Families protect each other. All Smite would always protect Izuku.

All Smite’s touch was grounding as Izuku floated above it all. It tethered Izuku’s battered body to his bleeding soul, reminding him that, unlike En, Izuku was here. Guilt gnawed at Izuku. He had been the catalyst; he had sparked the confrontation. He was responsible for En’s death, and you don’t fail your family.

The spark of the quirk inside Izuku felt empty. Like someone had ripped a plant from its pot, leaving a gaping hole. The quirk shuddered, reaching for a family member who was no longer there. A warmth that was gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. Izuku’s heart was cold, pumping icy blood through him, his body wishing to join En in death.

Why did he do it? Why did he run ? He was alone. He needed his family. He wanted his family. He didn’t want to feel this chill in his heart and the tears frozen in his eyes. Izuku hadn’t wanted anyone else to die. And what had he done?!

The cold inside him thawed enough to allow a single tear to trickle down his face.

All Smite brushed it away and tucked Izuku closer. “It’s alright, my son. We’ll get through this. Our family will survive.”

Izuku wasn’t sure how he was able to fall asleep.

Or maybe it had been too easy. He hadn’t ever really come out of his daze since Banjo brought him back to the base. Back home to his family. Dissociating had been easier than facing his family and the pain of his mauled arm. Maybe he had always been half asleep and just slipped completely without realizing it.

But when he opened his eyes, he was standing in the vault once more.

Except it wasn’t the vault.

Instead of one wall with a large, gaping hole, or even all four solid walls of steel, the walls were made of a thick, impenetrable black smoke. And instead of his bed, the bathroom, and the other furniture Izuku had come to associate with his room , the vault, there were nine golden thrones, each one labeled 1 through 9 in Roman Numerals.

On one of the armrests of each throne was a shackle connected to a long chain that latched to the previous number. Whoever sat in IV would be chained to III but would hold and control the chain of V. Only I had no shackle, and only IX had no chain to control.

On the cushion of each throne was a golden crown. I’s crown was a plain crown of gold, while II was gold encrusted with diamonds. III had gold, diamonds, and rubies. Each crown was a combination of the different jewels of its predecessors, along with a new sort of jewel. IX’s was gold, but also covered with diamonds, rubies, sapphires, onyx, peals, opals, topazes, and emeralds.

Izuku tried to take a step towards IX, when he realized he couldn’t move.

What?

He looked down and realized most of his body was covered with the same black smoke that made up the walls. Everything below his nose except his right hand for some reason was surrounding him and preventing him from moving. Izuku made a noise of terror, only for it to be swallowed up by the smoke.

“Don’t be afraid.”

Izuku started as a familiar face appeared, grinning happily as a pair of arms embraced him.

“It’s good to see you, Izuku,” En said.

Izuku couldn’t answer even if he wanted too. He could only stare at his lost family member in shock. En looked just as he did the last time he saw him. Same high collar, hair combed down, same gentle, encouraging expression that had reminded Izuku of Tomura the killer . The only differences were that En wore a crown on his head (one made up of gold, diamonds, rubies, sapphires, onyx, and pearls) and around his wrist was the shackle connecting to V while he held the golden chain to VII.

“Oh yeah, Sandman was shouting your name when Dad was bringing you back home,” En explained, clearly thinking that was what surprised Izuku and not the fact that En now stood in front of him. “Shame I didn’t get to tell anyone. But I guess it saves the surprise when you finally tell them.”

Tears stung Izuku’s eyes. Tears of guilt, fear, and joy . He didn’t know how En was here. En was dead. He was dead because of Izuku. He was dead because Izuku had run away and tried to escape.

But now he was here, and Izuku was so happy to see him.

“Come on, I’ll help you sit down,” En offered, and he somehow picked up Izuku in his smoky form.

Izuku tried to protest— protest against what? En was family. Izuku should stay and listen to his family. — as En carried him to the throne labelled IX. As if something else was guiding him, his right hand moved on its own, fitting itself in the shackle, allowing him to be chained to VIII. En smiled proudly as he secured the shackle in place.

Forever chaining Izuku to the others.

“We never realized just how powerful One For All has become,” En explained. “It seems even when we die, we still live on inside the quirk. Whoever holds the quirk can speak to us, communicate with us, even borrow our gifts. I’m glad. It means we’ll all be together someday, even if Sandman somehow was able to take you away from us.”

Tears freely escaped Izuku’s eyes as the full meaning of En’s words washed over him.

Even if the other villains who held the quirk died, they would live on here in this world, wherever it was. Live on as vestiges, who could see through Izuku’s eyes, and speak to him, and hold him, and love him from beyond the grave.

After all, family should always stay together. Not even death could separate them forever.

Izuku was never leaving them. Even if he had somehow managed to escape, even if Banjo hadn’t dragged him back, even if En hadn’t died, he was never getting away. His fate was sealed when he swallowed the hair Dad had given him. Now he was forever bound to his family.

Even if he died… he was never getting away from them.

He belonged to his family now.

En smiled and placed the bejeweled crown on Izuku’s head. Izuku couldn’t tell if he bowed his head to accept the crown or to avoid En’s eyes.

“It’s alright, Izuku,” En assured him. “I’ll be waiting for all of you. Tell them it’s alright, I’m okay. Say it with me now.”

The smoke moved away from his lips, and once more Izuku could speak. He sobbed as his lips moved for him, saying the words he did not want to say but now had become absolute truth.

“I am safe. I am loved. I am home.”

Izuku’s eyes snapped open, only to find himself surrounded by smoke that appeared from his body, obscuring his view of the room around him, even if he recognized Dad holding him.

Somehow, he had used En’s smokescreen.

“Little fighter?” 

All Smite’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts like shattered glass, and the smoke vanished around Izuku. He was on the couch, surrounded by his family, his head resting in All Smite’s lap. The others were staring at him in shock as the smoke evaporated around them.

“That was… that was Dad’s smoke,” Nana whispered. “Little Fighter, how...”

Yoichi stared at Izuku in awe, a warm, understanding smile slowly coming across his face. As if he knew, deep down in this moment, that En wasn’t truly gone, if there was any truth to Izuku’s dream.

“It’s as I said,” he murmured. “He’s going to be the strongest of us. En’s power lives on inside our little fighter.”

At hearing En’s name, Izuku immediately broke down into sobs. En was gone. The man who consoled him in the vault, who gave Izuku his hoodie, who played video games with him and did not push him… he was dead.

En was gone, and Izuku wanted him back!

“I’m sorry,” he cried. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to- I didn’t-“

He lifted his hands to bury his face, only to realize two things. One: his arm had somehow healed. They must have called in someone with a healing quirk while he was asleep. Two: the handcuffs were back around his wrists once more.

No. No, not this again. Not again, please.

This was right. He deserved this. En was gone because of him, he deserved to be punished.

“What were you thinking?!” Second bellowed.

He crossed the room, and grabbed Izuku by the shoulders, pulling him to sit up. The terrorist held Izuku tightly, as if afraid he would slip out of his grasp, and his eyes were a mixture of anger, fear, and grief.

“We almost lost you!” He shouted. “We lost En. You ran away, little fighter, what the hell were you thinking? We almost lost the quirk, and we almost lost… we lost…”

Izuku stared in guilt and pain as the toughest, most stoic of the villains broke down into tears and pulled Izuku into a bear hug. Involuntarily, Izuku melted into his hug. He was with his family. He needed to stay with his family. He needed to help his family. He loved his family.

“You are ours now,” Second insisted. “We can’t lose you too, little fighter. We just can’t.”

Izuku choked out a sob as he nodded, burying himself into Second’s shoulder and crying. It wasn’t like he’d be able to leave anyway. He could never escape them, he knew that now.

Besides, why would he want to leave his family?

All Smite knelt behind them and pulled both into a hug. Nana swiftly joined, crying loudly, and then Banjo, and then everyone else. Not a word was spoken as Izuku felt his family hold him and each other, comforting one another in their loss.

He was safe. He was loved. He was home.

And now he believed it.

 

Notes:

She let out a hollow laugh. “If it had been anyone else, they would have just sent me to jail, but Dabi isn’t just anyone. He’s one of the few people that’s been broken and successfully pieced themselves back together. That’s what he helped me do.”

“It sounds like you’re very lucky you met him,” Mirio offered.

“I wish I had just gone to jail,” Himiko whispered.

Chapter 28: Treachery

Summary:

The heroes begin to figure things out. Toga gets angry.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Himiko licked her cherry ice cone, savoring the flavor. When the syrup mixed with the half-melted ice on her tongue, she could almost pretend it was the texture of blood.

"Here, why don't you put this on it," Mirio suggested, passing a small water flask. The container seemed to be made out of some sort of insulating material. Curious, she uncapped it and sighed happily as the scent of blood hit her. A moment later, her head whipped up in shock to a grinning Mirio. He laughed. "I figured it might make the snow cone taste better for you."

"How?" Himiko asked in wonder.

"I asked Recovery Girl to draw some of my blood. It's no big deal." He noticed her disbelieving expression and frowned. "It's just, what you're going through is hard. I figured the least I could do was try to make it so you'd actually enjoy the dessert."

Tears blurred her vision. Just as she saw Mirio starting to panic, she flung herself forward and wrapped him in a hug. When she finally spoke, her voice was small. "Thank you. The others don't mind my habit, but Dabi was the only one out of them who gave me his own blood."

The crushing feeling was back. It was the one Himiko could never run away from or escape. It sat on her chest, whispered in her ear, and broke her whenever she tried to stand beneath its weight. Mournfully, she moved away, so she had room to take her backpack off. A long, tattered, black coat was pulled from it. She didn't hesitate to slip it on, even as it touched the floor when she wore it.

Mirio sucked in a sharp breath. "Is that—"

"Dabi gave me his coat when we first met," Himiko muttered, gaze drifting to stare at the clouds. "I'd just killed someone, a boy in my class. My parents didn't like my quirk. They didn't like me. One day I just snapped. When Dabi found me, I was still covered in the blood."

She let out a hollow laugh. "If it had been anyone else, they would have just sent me to jail, but Dabi isn't just anyone. He's one of the few people that's been broken and successfully pieced themselves back together. That's what he helped me do."

 "It sounds like you're very lucky you met him," Mirio offered.

"I wish I had just gone to jail," Himiko whispered. "If I was never fixed, I wouldn't have cared. It wouldn't hurt now. I wouldn't be thinking of how he'll never call me crazy again or how he'll never rig another secret Santa, so he gets me to give me blood."

"The heroes didn't save him," Mirio cut in, stunning her. "They didn't save him when it was their job. They didn't even know he was missing!"

Golden eyes widened in shock. Mirio had always seemed go-lucky, positive no matter what. Now he was losing faith in the heroes?

"It almost makes you wonder if becoming a hero is worth it. Couldn't you do more good on your own, outside the law?" His eyes flickered over to her, and a second later, he let out a forced laugh. "I'm just kidding, of course. I'm sure the heroes did the best they could."

She took a minute to ponder his words. "Hey, Mirio, do you want to know a secret? Well, it's not so much a secret as something I don't really tell people."

His eyes shone with an eager light. "Sure, I'd love to know."

"So, there's this thing—"

"TOGA, DUCK!" Compress screamed at her.

She didn't stop to hesitate, trusting in the people she'd fought with over the years. Jumping off the bench, she pressed herself to the ground just in time for a marble to become a car soaring at where her head used to be. Mirio didn't take the advice, and for a second she thought he was going to die, but then he phased through it.

Blue eyes regarded her coldly. "Think about what I said, Toga. If you change your mind about the whole hero thing, I know some people who would love to work with you."

In the next moment, he slipped beneath the concrete. Compress chased after him, muttering a curse and guessing where he would appear again. Meanwhile, Sandman (Dabi had taught her the importance of using hero names while in the field) slid over, grabbing her by the shoulders and frantically checking for injuries.

"What's happening? Why are you chasing Mirio?" Himiko demanded.

"He's not who we thought he was. Mirio's been spying on us this whole time. He's the reason the villains knew I was there! Dabi had tapped his phone–"

"Wait, Dabi knew he was a traitor?"

"At the very least, he suspected and was looking for proof."

Golden eyes glared down at the flask in her hands. In one swift moment, she chugged the contents. Blood dripped from the corner of her mouth. The fangs she flashed were stained red. "Show me."

 


 

Togata knew he was operating on a time limit. While he was hard to catch, with enough quirks and enough time, even the heroes could accomplish something. Sir would be so disappointed in him. He'd failed. But Togata could do something to make it right if he grabbed the file copies he'd been making since he started at All for One's agency.

It took about half an hour to reach where he'd stashed everything and then pack it up. In the end, it all fit neatly into one backpack. Ironically, the backpack was All for One branded. They didn't even make merchandise like that. It had to be custom ordered. Togata thought Sir would appreciate the humor. Gulping down a breath, he hoped his mentor would appreciate the humor enough to not designate him a lost cause.

By all logic, he should reconvene with Sir and deliver the evidence. He'd no longer be a spy, but he could be a true villain now. It was all he wanted! Except…there was one thing still missing. It was risky, but he'd have lingering regrets for the rest of his life if he didn't try. If word about him had already spread, it was all over.

Not giving himself more time to think about it, he hit the call button on his phone. "Please pick up, please pick up."

"Mirio? What's going on? You never call."

"Hey, can you meet me by the boba shop near the school?"

"But we have that essay due. I hadn't had a chance to start it yet."

"Please, Tamaki," Togata begged. "It's important. I promise I'll explain later."

"Okay, I'm coming."

Togata sighed in relief and made his way to the spot. As soon as he saw the raven-haired boy cowering and facing the wall by the entrance to the shop, his heart lightened. "Thank you so much for coming. I'll explain everything in a minute; just come with me first."

"I thought we were getting boba," Tamaki asked, confused. That was when Togata noticed his clothes. He was in a lovely red shirt with a black vest and a pair of black slacks. The shirt and pants seemed a little long on him, and the cuffs rolled up once, but overall the outfit complemented him. Togata's breath caught for a minute. These clothes were so…fancy. Did he…did Tamaki think this was a date? Of all the times.

"I know this sounds crazy, but we need to go somewhere private," Togata noted his uncertain expression and softened his tone. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

And just like that, they were headed to the safe house. When they got in, Tamaki looked around curiously. A rare smile graced his lips, even as his cheeks turned red. Togata thought he almost looked excited, but it was more likely to be embarrassment.

"So, I guess I owe you an explanation." Togata locked the door to the house behind them and gestured for the other to take a seat on the couch.

He obliged and almost sunk into the brown material. "You do."

"Tamaki." Togata took a deep breath, heart racing. "I'm a villain. I've been spying on the heroes and on UA."

 A tear slipped down Takami's cheek. "You're just joking, right?"

His heart clenched at the broken sound of his friend's voice. "No, I'm not joking. Hero society is broken. The villains are right, you know, about a lot of things."

"The agency you worked with, they said someone from there died…"

Mirio winced. He knew he was fighting an uphill battle, but he had hoped the news of that particular incident hadn't yet spread. If he convinced Tamaki to come with him, the other boy would have to be eased into villainy. Either way, he couldn't let there be any more lies between them. "I told the villains about him and where he'd be. He was poking his nose into things he shouldn't have. Believe me, I don't kill just for the sake of killing. I always have a reason."

"So you did it then?" Tamaki accused. "You killed Dabi?"

"I didn't kill him myself, but I helped arrange it," Togata admitted. Black hair fell to obscure the other's face as Tamaki put his head in his hands. "But everything I feel about you, our friendship, that was all real! I promise I wouldn't have come if I didn't care for you. You and Nejire are my friends."

Slowly, Tamaki uncurled and slipped to his feet. Togata still couldn't see his face, and after a minute, his gaze was instead locked to the trembling hands that undid the buttons of the black vest. The shirt was; next, a pile of discarded clothing sitting to the side as Togata stared at his friend in stunned silence. When the hands moved to the slacks, Togata finally turned around, face blushing a furious red. What on Earth was Tamaki doing? He'd just found out his friend was a villain, and now he was getting naked? "Look, I'm not sure what you're doing, but we should probably talk about this."

Something sharp stabbed into his neck, stunning him for a moment before he phased through it.

 "I'm done talking," his own voice snarled at him. "All the others want to talk, but I'm the only one willing to act."

Togata turned in horror to see himself holding a hypodermic needle. It was a perfect copy, but his face was twisted into absolute fury.

"Toga." His eyes narrowed. "What did you do to Tamaki?"

"Nothing worse than what I'm going to do to you."

She tossed the syringe to the side, letting it shatter against the ground as she charged at him. As soon as her hands touched his shoulders, he activated his quirk. To his surprise, her hands clutched him firmly, one of them shooting out to swipe at his face. Despite his instinct to use his quirk, he ducked his neck backward instead and made it out with gashes along his cheek instead of his eye. "My, my quirk,"

"You were bragging about how your costume was made of your DNA, and that's why it didn't fall off," Toga told him smugly. "Guess what? I'm made of your DNA right now."

Her knee aimed for between his thighs, and this time he was too slow to dodge. The impact made him crumple to his knees with a pained groan. The sharp jabs to his solar plexus and nose didn't help either. With each strike, he came just short of dodging. She was too fast. Or maybe he was just slow. As the fight dragged on, his movements became more and more sluggish. Eventually, Togata realized what was happening. "The needle."

"I wasn't able to give you a full dose, but there should still be enough to paralyze you," Toga spat at him. Although her tone was angry, her expression was filled with joy. She truly wanted to murder him. The idea of spilling his blood brought her purpose and release. She would have made a great villain.

One more hit to the stomach, and he went down. At this point, whatever drug Toga gave him had done its work, making his muscles and nerves rebel against his input. Toga shivered with satisfaction at seeing him frozen on the ground and at her mercy.

"Well then," Togata spoke in resignation, "Finish it."

A dagger stroked his cheek, leaving another bloody line against it. Mirio looked into his own face as he realized this was how he would die. Toga swiped another shallow line on his face. "I never got to tell you my secret."

For a second, he struggled to figure out what she was talking about, but then he remembered their conversation before all this happened. She continued speaking in a wistful tone. "My secret, the thing I don't tell people, is that it's not just about drinking blood for me. Sure, it tastes sweet, but transforming is even better. And when I transform into someone I love? It's the best feeling in the world. I don't want to just be around people. I want more than anything to be them."

Togata hoped she would make it quick, but he knew how unlikely that was. The knife rested against his neck. Toga pulled her arm back and slashed across his skin.

It took him a minute to realize he wasn't choking on his own blood. Instead of a gaping wound, a shallow cut was weeping blood.

"And all the people I love are heroes." Toga stood above him like an avenging angel, clutching the bloody knife to her chest with both hands. Still wearing his face, she smiled as tears slipped down her cheeks. She gave a pitying look. "You could have been one too."

In that moment, not knowing whether she meant that he could have been a hero or someone she loved, he wondered what kind of hero he could have been.

Notes:

TOGA HIMIKO SUPREMACY!

Next Chapter:

Mirai entered the bar, scanning for any sign of his student.

Mirio had frantically called an hour ago, telling his mentor that he’d been discovered and that he was only just barely able to escape the Heroes.

He was scared and alone, and the only safe place he could think to go was a bar that frequently catered to villains and vigilantes. Somewhere where nobody questioned anybody who was there, including spy hero students waiting for their beloved villain mentors to take them to safety.

Chapter 29: Twofold

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Sasaki entered the bar, scanning for any sign of his student.

Mirio had frantically called an hour ago, telling his mentor that he’d been discovered and that he was only just barely able to escape the heroes.

He was scared and alone, and the only safe place he could think to go was a bar that frequently catered to villains and vigilantes. Somewhere where nobody questioned anybody who was there, including spy hero students waiting for their beloved villain mentors to take them to safety.

It was a good location, well thought out, out of the way, and somewhat safe until Sasaki could find him.

Sasaki was proud of his student. He was already thinking and acting like a spy and a villain, and now that his cover had been blown, perhaps now he could act as a villain out of the shadows. Show All Smite just what a true, perfect candidate he was, and let All Smite choose him as his heir.

The Midoriya boy didn’t have the capacity to be a villain of the family’s caliber. He was too pure-hearted, too innocent, too weak. He had grown up coddled by two Heroes and a hero’s wife. He might have had his eyes opened to how cruel the world could be, but he could not revel in it the way Sasaki had taught his student.

Combined with who his stepfather was, the boy was perhaps the worst choice for an heir, and Sasaki still didn’t know what his friend had been thinking. But perhaps now he could convince his friend otherwise. Show him that Midoriya could never hope to hold a candle to All Smite or his family, but Mirio could. Mirio could be any sort of villain All Smite desired.

He’d even help his friend keep the Midoriya child as a pet since he was already deeply attached to the boy. But Sasaki didn’t deserve the power that All Smite held, passed down through solemn ritual from his predecessors and family members.

That honor should have been Mirio’s, and Sasaki was willing to do whatever it took to ensure his student was given that great gift.

And if All Smite was too blind to the big picture?

Well… Sasaki would do what he had to. Even if his friend hated him for getting rid of the boy, he was doing everyone a favor.

This boy had been too dangerous. He never should have been considered as an heir, let alone chosen to be All Smite’s son. He was the stepson of their greatest nemesis, the brother of an up-and-coming hero. If All Smite thought he could convince the boy to turn on Heroes, he was growing too old and senile.

Speaking of old and senile, Sasaki didn’t see any sign of his student. But he did find an old, familiar ally nursing a drink at the bar. At the sight of Sasaki, he grunted and nodded to the bar stool beside him.

“Nighteye.”

“Torino.”

The two villains sat in silence, not daring to say more. Even in a place like this, you had to be careful in revealing your friendships. Too easy for some undercover hero or detective to figure out more about you and your people.

Sasaki ordered himself a drink while he waited for his student, eyes checking his phone for a new update or message about every thirty seconds. He tried to occupy himself by glancing at Torino’s phone.

Apparently, he was sending some sort of file on his phone to Nana. Something about Sandman.

Well, there was no need to worry about him. Mirio had already updated Mirai about Sandman. His precious student had sent Sandman running straight into the line of fire with the First villain and his family. Mirai had never been so proud.

So where was he?

It’s alright, he told himself. Mirio probably just needed to shake a tail before arriving. Or he got caught up at the train station. Or he was going to try to recruit those friends of his before he comes. It’s fine.

He barely glanced at the sandy-haired man who stumbled to the seat beside him and ordered a whiskey and just stared into the drink as if it held all the answers. The man was muttering to himself, and his hands were shaking. Sasaki looked over again as tears fell from the man’s eyes, mixing into his shot.

“Tough day?” he guessed.

“No. Yes,” the man replied. “I lost my best friend.”

“My condolences.”

“I don’t want to hear it… thanks.”

The man took the shot and closed his eyes, savoring the burn. The bar was starting to get really crowded, to the point people were starting to bump into each other. It wouldn’t be a problem for Mirio, though it was annoying.

“He was a nobody. World will keep on turning without him. My world’s stopping. How do I go on without him?”

That wasn’t Sasaki’s problem. He couldn’t care less about this guy’s loss. He needed to be ready to help Mirio get out of here when he arrived.

“What happened?” Torino asked curiously.

“He was an idiot… he did the right thing,” the man answered. “He got in over his head with this Hero and Villain crap… he just did his best.”

He seemed to be contradicting himself, but then grief did that to the best people. Sasaki wasn’t surprised that the man felt conflicted over his loss. Sasaki had seen grief tear people apart until it seemed to split them into two.

“Sorry to hear that,” Sasaki said.

Oh, why not? It wouldn’t hurt him to be nice and possibly gain a potential ally if things went sideways. Sasaki ordered another round of whiskeys for the man, himself, and Torino. The man gratefully accepted and lifted his shot glass.

“Here’s to…” Torino began to toast before glancing at the man when he realized they didn’t know his friend’s name.

The man wiped his eyes and looked at the two villains. The look in his eyes made both Sasaki and Torino freeze where they sat.

“Dabi,” the man replied. “His name was Dabi. And he was a hero.”

Dabi… wasn’t that the name of…

Sasaki didn’t even get the chance to twitch when the entire bar swarmed him and Torino. He shouted in horror as at least twenty copies of the man tackled him, yanked him from his seat, and pinned him to the ground. Sasaki thrashed futilely as someone smashed his spectacles in the stampede, another person clapped him in handcuffs, and at least a dozen different sets of hands held him down.

“You’re under arrest!”

“We’re going to murder you!”

“You killed our best friend!”

“Dabi was the best person! He helped us when nobody else would look our way. Nobody but All For One and him!”

“He always believed we could be better, even when life dealt us a bad hand!”

  “He let me crash on his couch when I had nowhere to go.”

“He got me through Hero training so I could become a sidekick. He’d stay up all night helping me study.”

Torino was frantically fighting them off, kicking and punching until the copies that attacked him became puddles of mud and clay. But even his speed couldn’t keep up with the fact that there were almost a hundred of these guys, and they were all intent on dragging him down.

The other patrons at the bar were of no help. They had either fled or ducked for cover when the entire attack went down.

The last thing Sasaki saw before someone tied a blindfold over his eyes was Torino getting pinned down by about thirty of the guy’s duplicates.

“Normally, we’re kinda split on personality.”

” Half of us are positive balls of sunshine.”

” The other half have sticks up our rears!”

“But we’ve all agreed on one thing!”

” We will get justice for our friend!”

A new voice reached Sasaki’s ears, and his blood turned to ice. No. No, not him. Anybody but him.

“Sir Nighteye and Gran Torino,” All For One spoke. “You are the scum who has been helping All Smite, Nana Shimura, and my little brother.”

No… they were caught by him? After everything they had done, all the precautions they had taken… how…

“Well done, Jin,” All For One complimented the man.

“You got it, boss!  They had it coming!

“Now,” All For One said. “I want to know one thing: where the hell is my son?!” 

 


 

Hisashi stared at the men behind the glass, both handcuffed to the table and waiting for someone to come in and speak to them.

Finding Dabi’s bug had been the breakthrough they needed. They had caught Mirio, thanks to Toga (who was in so much trouble; facing a villain on her own, what was she thinking?) Hisashi was torn between grounding her, giving her a year’s worth of paperwork, and giving her a hug- and now they had Mirio’s mentor and ally.

He remembered Gran Torino now. He had been Nana Shimura’s foster brother prior to her kidnapping of the now late En. After Nana was kidnapped and brainwashed by the family, she had reached back out to her foster brother and convinced him to help interfere with the investigation to find her. He had assisted in leading at least five police units and several good heroes into traps and their inevitable deaths, including Nana’s first kill.

He had outrun police capture when he was a teenager and hadn’t been found since. It was safe to say he was still in contact with his old friend and had helped her out on more than one occasion.

Sir Nighteye, as Mirio called him, on the other hand, was seemingly a small-time villain. But just spending a few minutes with the man convinced Hisashi that he was much more of a mastermind than he made himself out to be.

Sure enough, when they looked into him further, he was involved with at least a dozen murders, robberies, and incidents of blackmail.

“So what now?” Tomura asked from beside Hisashi. “Are we interrogating them?”

Neither Hisashi nor Tomura had yet addressed their several disastrous conversations. Not even close. But the revelation of the traitor and the two villains involved had been enough for them to put aside their rampant feelings and emotions until Izuku could be found.

Yes, once Izuku was found, everything would be alright. He’d save his son, he and Tomura could fix things, Inko would no longer have to cry, and Hisashi’s family would be whole once again.

“Not quite,” Hisashi answered. “They won’t say a word to you and me, or they’ll try to talk in circles and try to gain the upper hand in the interrogation. They are ready for questions from heroes and we’ll just waste our time.”

“So what?” Tomura asked. “We just let them sit there and regain HP? That’s just wasting time too!”

“Don’t worry,” Hisashi assured him as the door knob turned. “I called in our best bet to get answers.”

Tomura opened his mouth to ask, only for his jaw to drop when Inko Midoriya walked into the interrogation room, dressed primly in a sharp business skirt and blouse, hair up in her usual bun. She entered with an air of confidence as if she hadn’t just walked into a room with two villains who would love nothing more than to choke the life out of her.

If only they knew. Inko had stood her ground against Yoichi, of all people. If they knew the steel of the woman in front of them, the two villains would be begging for mercy.

“Mom?” Tomura asked, turning to Hisashi in horror. “You sent in, Mom?”

“Trust me,” Hisashi said. “She knows what she’s doing.”

Inko gave a crimson smile at the two men handcuffed to the table and sat down with the grace of a queen. Both men were watching her, clearly waiting for her to speak, neither of them recognizing her.

Why would they? In their family, Inko was the one the villains would overlook the most. Not a hero. Not a student.

Just the heart of their entire family and the strongest woman Hisashi had ever met.

Nighteye smirked as if something was hilarious as Inko sat down and crossed her legs, while Torino looked bored. It was clearer than day that neither villain saw her as a threat, just a pawn for Hisashi.

“Hello, gentlemen,” Inko greeted politely.

“Don’t bother, girly,” Torino warned her with a dismissive nod. “We aren’t saying anything, even if they try this ‘good cop/bad cop’ routine. We don’t need All For One’s mouthpiece to ask his questions for us.”

Inko smiled so sweetly as if he didn’t just insult her. Tomura shuddered involuntarily. Unlike Torino and Nighteye, he knew that smile promised big, big trouble for whoever his mom was smiling at.

“Oh, don’t worry about All For One,” she said, flicking her hand as if brushing the thought away. “Your interrogation would be a lot different if he was the one running it.”

“Really?” Nighteye scoffed. “You expect that to work? Playing the sweet lady to get us to open up and betray our friends?”

“Oh, not at all,” Inko promised, shaking her head. “You see, All For One would give you one chance to tell him what he wanted before things got very messy. I, on the other hand, shall be giving you… fifty-four chances to speak to me.”

Both villains laughed in her face.

“Little girl, clearly they are being nice to you for your first case,” Torino snorted. “Go and get a professional, please, and we just might let your family find pieces of you to bury.”

Tomura raised his fingers to the glass, but Hisashi caught his wrist before it could even crack.

“Trust her,” he whispered. “She knows what she’s doing.”

 Inko leaned back and tapped a pen to her lip thoughtfully.

“Do either of you men know my quirk?” She asked conversationally.

“Do we look like we know your quirk?” Nighteye retorted.

Inko shrugged as if to say that was fair and placed the pen on the table. Hisashi watched as she used her quirk to draw the pen back into her hand, without even touching it.

“I can attract small objects to me,” she explained. “It usually is harder when I can’t see them or if they are tied down, but with just the right amount of pressure and will, anything I want winds up in her hands.”

She looked up at the villains, that sinister, sweet smile on her face.

“And if I’m correct, you have each have thirty-two teeth, ten fingernails, ten toenails, and two eyes. So like I said: you have fifty-four chances to tell me where Izuku Midoriya is.”

Her words were followed by a chilling silence as the villains’ mirth had turned into horror before the cold, righteous fury that was Inko Midoriya. Even Tomura and Hisashi stood spellbound at the woman in front of them, the same woman who hugged them when they felt weak and consoled them when they were sad. It was Nighteye who broke first. 

“You wouldn’t dare,” he accused. “Heroes can’t condone torture. If they use torture, they can lose their license and even be arrested. And if you’re a police officer, you’ll be fired for certain.”

Inko laughed, and it would have sounded sweet and pretty if it wasn’t so terrifying.

“Well, that’s alright with me. I’m not a hero or a police officer.”

She paused as if she realized a mistake, and sighed.

“I’m sorry, I forgot to introduce myself.”

She looked back at both men, and the look in her eyes could make a grown man run home, crying for his mother. The look promised the men that she was both willing and capable of doing everything she threatened and more.

“My name is Inko Midoriya. And I want. My son.  Back .”

If the men had been scared when they had been arrested at the bar, they had done a good job of concealing it. But now, under Inko’s glare as she rose, her arm reaching out as if to decide what to start with, they were staring at her with nothing short of pure, undiluted terror.

“Shall we get started?”

They told her everything. 

Notes:

Next Chapter:

Izuku lay pliant in All Smite's arms as the family played a game of Monopoly. It was that or watch a movie, but no one was in the mood for anything realistic, and most animated shows had a dead family member—something no one had the emotional energy to deal with. Two days. En had been dead for two days.

Chapter 30: Delegation

Summary:

The Vestiges come to a decision.

Notes:

Hi, sorry for the late update. We still got it done today (for my time zone at least) though. Updates in the future should continue to be earlier in the day.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Izuku lay pliant in All Smite's arms as the family played a game of Monopoly. It was that or watch a movie, but no one was in the mood for anything realistic, and most animated shows had a dead family member—something no one had the emotional energy to deal with. Two days. En had been dead for two days.

All eight were playing, and Izuku was the dog token like he always was. Izuku used to play Monopoly a lot with his old dad. His dad would play the boat, and the thimble was taken by Tomura No! Don't think about Tomura. He didn't want to think about Tomura.

He was with his family. He was safe; he was happy; he was home.

The handcuffs were still on Izuku's wrists, but he didn't care anymore. It didn't matter because Izuku was where he belonged.

All Smite nuzzled Izuku's hair, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. "I love you, my son." Once Izuku would've hated himself for enjoying the affection, but now he leaned into the villain’s touch. His family loved him.

He rolled the dice for his turn and went through his actions. Claiming rent that he added to his assets. No one was very into the game. They were too lost in their thoughts.

Nana was on her phone, a finger tapping against the table as she scrolled through a file. She blanched, dropping her phone to the table. A dry sob rattle in her throat.

All Smite lunged to his feet, Izuku tucked against his chest. "Mother? Is something wrong?"

Trembling, Nana handed the phone to Yoichi. "Read it," she begged.

Yoichi’s eyes furrowed as he accepted the phone. His brows knit further together, his eyes squinting in concentration until his mouth opened in a perfect "Oh." Yoichi read back over it again. "Oh, that is interesting. "

Second scowled. "Are you going to share? Or are you going to keep talking to yourself?"

"We've just received… interesting news. A file of information gathered by Mirio and Torino about Sandman."

"That report requested weeks ago?" Third asked. "They finally got around to it?"

"Well, apparently, my brother has been very careful about preserving Sandman's background, and for a good reason." His smile sharpened. "Sandman or Tomura Shigaraki is actually Tenko Shimura."

"What?" All Smite gasped, sinking back down into his chair with Izuku.

"Which means he's Nana's hidden grandson."

Nana sunk to the ground, the shock knocking all float out of her. Over and over, she mouthed the words, "He's my grandson. I have a grandson."

"How can he be Nana's grandson!?" Second demanded, "We tracked down Nana's husband and killed him for betraying Nana and the rest of us to the heroes."

Third flipped his knives between his hands, his lips pursed in thought. "He never did confess to anything in the end. We figured he killed Kotaro out of spite. But if that's not the case, Tomura may be one of ours."

"One of ours?!" Banjo spat. Blackwhip flared around his body, reacting to his anger. "How is he one of ours! If none you have bothered to remember, he killed En. We lost out sixth because of him."

"But what if we took him," Second proposed. "Putting aside whether or not he is Nana's, think of the psychological damage that would do to All for One. We will have taken his protégé and son-"

"My son," All Smite growled.

Second rolled his eyes but conceded. "Originally All for One's brat but now Yagi's son. The psychological damage an attack like that would be far more devastating than any dead civilians."

Yoichi smiled at Second, "Have I ever mentioned I love how you think."

"So, like that, we're taking him in!?" Banjo yelled. "Are you serious?! He killed En! How do we even know it's true?!"

Yoichi tapped the phone. "The file is extensive. They didn't send us this information until they were absolutely certain. We can always do our research, but I believe this is true."

The shock barely even registered in Izuku's chest. His already broken heart throbbed as another piece broke off from the betrayal. But did it even matter anymore? It was yet another truth hidden from the useless Izuku. He couldn't even spare a tear. His eyes were dried from sobbing away his hurt.

Yoichi steepled his fingers. "The question now becomes what to do with this knowledge. The way I see it, we have two options. Option one, kill him. Option two, bring him into our family."

From his seat, Hikage spoke up. "I can't see bringing him into our circle a wise choice. Unless we intend to make him our tenth, I fail to understand how we could possibly control him."

"No!" All Smite yelled. "We can't take One for All away from our little fighter already. It's not right!"

"Then I would advise against bringing him in."

Yoichi spoke up, "Hikage, could you use danger sense to determine if he's a threat to us?"

"It doesn't work that way. And even if it doesn't register him as a threat initially, it doesn't mean that he can't turn on us."

Banjo slammed his fists on the table. His breath came hot and heavy. "I have lost my son because of this bastard. Are you all wanting more to die? Is that what you want, Yagi?" He turned to face All Smite and pointed down at Izuku, curled up on All Smite's lap. "You will lose your son, Yagi," Banjo warned.

All Smite's arms flexed around Izuku, tightening until Izuku wheezed, "Dad, too tight."

All Smite's arms loosened slightly. "I can't put my son at risk," he said.

Third spoke up, "But what if-"

"I don't want to hear another what if!" Banjo yelled.

The table erupted into angry arguments. The information about Tomura had affected each member as they yelled and gestured. Quite a few of them had watery eyes and twitching jaws.

Izuku sunk into his dad's arms, unable to cope with the angry voices. This was home. He wanted to feel safe and loved. He was exhausted, tired of feeling scared and hurt. Wasn't that why he gave in? Because they promised it would be different?

Yoichi stood up from his chair at the head of the table and raised his hand.

"It appears we are divided on this issue, and due to the nature of this problem, I believe we must make a decision immediately. Therefore, I propose a vote." When Banjo scoffed, Yoichi turned towards him. "Fifth, I understand that you have strong feelings in this matter, but so do most here. A vote is the only way to resolve things. Can everyone agree to this?"

Yoichi's gaze traveled around the room, locking eyes with every person at the table until they nodded their agreement. Even Izuku nodded, although he doubted they noticed.

"Good. To protect against a tie, I will sit out of the voting. But I will say that I believe that bringing Tomura in is a good idea." The eye not covered by a curtain of hair glimmered. "It would be one of the final blows to destroy my brother and thus any threat to our family. But I will stand by whatever decision you come to."

Yoichi sat down and nodded to Second, who stood up to face the table. "I recognize the dangers of bringing in Tomura. But I believe it is the best way to ensure our future safety. I vote to bring him in."

Third stood up next. "Tomura is a skilled fighter but no more skilled than me." He tossed his knife, letting it spin in the air before landing neatly in his hand. "If he becomes a problem, I have no issues ending him." A sick feeling churned in Izuku's chest, but Second continued. "But, if we can sway him to our side, we will have gained a valuable asset. The chaos we could cause with his understanding of hero society would be incredible. I vote yes."

As Third sat down, Fourth stood up, his face graver than usual. "Sandman is a threat. Containing his quirk would be dangerous. However, I would also argue that we don't kill him either." Surprised noise echoed around the table. Hikage waited for it to settle down. "We should focus on strengthening our forces and leave Sandman alone for now."

"So that's a no," noted Yoichi. He turned to Banjo. "I believe we already know your opinion on this, but is there anything else you want to say?"

"He killed En. That's all there is to it."

"Understood. Nana, what's your vote?"

Nana raised her head. Mascara was smeared under her eyes, and her lip trembled. "I don't know," she said. "I'm so angry and devastated about what's happened. But I've just lost a family member. I don't want to lose another one. I'm sorry, Banjo, but I vote we bring him in."

Banjo nodded stiffly and looked away.

All Smite shifted in his seat. "I'll be frank, my motivation behind my decision is purely selfish. I don't want to share my boy with Sandman. Our little fighter is finally opening up, and I don't want to see him regress because of Sandman. I vote no."

Yoichi hummed, "This does put us in a bind. Three against three. I suppose the deciding vote comes down to the little fighter."

"What!?" Both Banjo and All Smite yelled.

"You can't. He's obviously biased."

"No more biased than the rest of us."

All Smite stiffened, "I don't like it. I don't want-"

"Eight," Yoichi said. "He's family. And every family member gets a vote."

"Ninth," Yoichi said, turning to Izuku. "What's your vote?"

Izuku blinked several times as if that would clear the fog in his head and the ache in his heart. Grandpa Yoichi called him Ninth. Ninth, like the number nine throne Izuku was shackled to within One for All. Ninth in the family. And they wanted to know if Izuku wanted their family to be bigger.

"I… I want…" Izuku's voice trailed off, his mind fighting through the storm of mixed emotions. Did Izuku want Tomura, the killer, here? Did he want to have to see Sandman?

Did he want his brother, no, this danger here? A raspy laugh echoed in his ear, Tomura's laughter.

Izuku's gaze dropped to his hands. There was a scar on his right arm now from breaking it, similar to the scars on his back. Scars Tomura had seen and wanted to protect Izuku from.

Protect your family.

He didn't want Tomura to be hurt. But did he want Tomura here? Of course! Izuku was happy with his family. The handcuffs, steel walls, and gripping hugs that made him want to vomit because of the blood dripping from them and the screams of people and- NO.

Izuku did not want Tomura here.

Protect your family.

Yes, Izuku would protect Tomura by saying no.

Izuku opened his mouth, his voice husky from barely speaking the last several days. "I protect my family. I want them safe. We shouldn't do anything. I vote no."

Notes:

Preview:

"I don't understand."

Inko took one of his hands, peeling his fingers open and pressing something into his palm. "You will in a minute," she said and pushed him into the closet.

Chapter 31: Reconciliation

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

For the first time in almost three months, Hisashi felt the grip around his heart ease ever so slightly. For the first time in three months, he felt hope again.

Inko had gotten both Gran Torino and Nighteye to reveal every dirty little secret they knew about All Smite and the family of villains. She didn’t have to even use her quirk by the end, the two villains had been so intimidated by his goddess of a wife. 

If Hisashi had been the one interrogating the villains, he doubted they would've given him anything but their silence and contempt. 

But Inko, his blessed, fierce, protective angel of a wife, had done what he could never.

Instead of blindly looking for his missing son, he had a lead. And soon, a plan. He would rescue Izuku, have his boy back in his arms, and then get on his knees and beg for forgiveness for failing to protect him. And then he would do the same for all of them. Tomura. Inko, Touya’s siblings, everyone that he had ever failed. 

He would make this right. 

Yoichi wouldn't win this time. He couldn't. Hisashi didn't think his heart would survive it.

However, he didn't let his feelings show, standing tall and impassive in the agency's conference room. To prevent suspicion, every team member had been ordered to continue their patrols as usual before reporting back at the agency. That way, even if they still had a mole in their midst, their actions wouldn't seem out of the ordinary. But he found himself unable to focus at his desk and instead waited in the conference room, preparing for their meeting.

A hand touched his arm, and he melted into the soft touch of his wife. "When will everyone be here?" Inko asked. Mascara was smeared under her eyes, the only sign of her distress from the interrogation. He squeezed her hand and she leaned against his shoulder, both of them taking what comfort they could in this moment of calm before the storm.

Hisashi checked his watch. "At least another hour. Potentially more."

"And the villains?" Her voice hardened.

"They've been discreetly transferred to a private prison in absolute secrecy and Twice has created doubles of Toga to take their identities. It's only a temporary solution. Toga can only pretend so well, she only has so much blood, and her doubles can't take much damage. But it should at least fool some people while keeping her safe in the meantime."

"Meaning for this to work, we'll have to be quick and efficient,” Inko surmised. 

"Yes,” he agreed solemnly, squeezing her hand tightly. “This will be our last chance."

If not, Yoichi would take his son away or cause some horrific disaster that would dwarf the bombing at Hosu. He couldn't have his legacy and role be one of failure—both as a brother, father, and hero.

"I see," Inko's hand tightened around his arm. "If that's the case then, may I speak with you in private, dear? I want to show you something."

"You're not hurt, are you?" he asked, looking at her with concern. The villains hadn’t made any moves against her–Hisashi would have made sure they knew the definition of pain if they laid a finger on her–but he knew that the interrogation had been stressful for her. It wasn’t in Inko’s nature to make such threats as she did in that room. 

"No, nothing like that," she offered a weak smile and tugged him along. Out of the conference room, she took him through the agency's hallways before stopping outside a closet door and pulling it open. The closet was dark and empty, with a single spider web hanging in the top corner. It was a typical, unused closet, yet Inko had brought him here.

"I don't understand."

Inko took one of his hands, peeling his fingers open and pressing something into his palm. "You will in a minute," she said and pushed him into the closet.

Inko wasn't nearly strong enough to physically push him in there, but the action was so unexpected that Hisashi allowed it to happen, stumbling over his feet and into the closet.

"Inko, what's going on?"

His wife puffed up, rolling her shoulders back and clenching her jaw like she was preparing for battle. 

"Hisashi Shigaraki. I married you because you are a good man. But sometimes, you do foolish, stupid things. And while it's typically fine, if we're going to save Izuku, this cannot happen. So you two," she said, pointing her finger at Hisashi, "are not leaving until you talk this out."

Hisashi's mouth hung open, his shock leaving him struggling for words. "Inko?"

And in response, his lovely, beautiful, fierce wife slammed the door shut in his face. He lunged forward, reaching for the doorknob in the darkness when Inko, predicting his actions, warned, "I am more than prepared to pull your kidneys out if I need to. Stay. In. There. And talk it out."

"Talk it out? What do you mean?!" Hisashi yelled in frustration.

And as if in response, the marble Inko had pressed into his palm, shattered, throwing a disgruntled something into his arms.

Hisashi stumbled back as much as he could in the tiny supply closet as Tomura straightened and whirled around. At seeing Hisashi, he frowned, his red eyes flashing with anger and guilt. Hisashi really had screwed things up with his son. 

However, Tomura didn’t say a word, instead, he turned around and stretched out his hand to decay the door.

“Tomura Shigaraki,” Inko called in a warning voice. “I had Compress marble your Switch. And so help me, if you try to get out of this by decaying the door, I’m tossing it into your closet.”

Tomura froze.

Tomura’s closet was a mess unlike any other. Comparing it to a trash heap was an insult to trash heaps around the world. Hisashi had never stepped foot in there since Tomura moved out when he almost had to go to the hospital after inhaling the fumes coming from it.

He was pretty sure something had mutated into a living being now. Or developed a quirk.

Hisashi was still too scared to look.

“You wouldn’t!” Tomura gasped.

“Either you two talk it out so I know you two will be at your best, and have no grudges or other worries on your mind, and will not die getting back Izuku,” Inko replied as if daring Tomura to challenge her. “Or your closet finally gets cleaned up after a decade of it stinking up my home. Your pick.”

Tomura looked for a split second like he might try it, only to remember that this was the woman who held her own against Yoichi, had gotten two villains to spill everything they knew, and had raised him. Inko was arguably the bravest, scariest woman on the planet.

And she was also his mother.

He sighed and slid down against the wall. The closet was so small, that he barely had room to stretch his legs out.

“This sucks."

Hisashi was inclined to agree. He should be preparing for the fight of a lifetime. To finally use his advantage to stop his brother and his followers once and for all, to rescue Izuku, to bring an end to a conflict that had ruled his life for over two centuries.

Instead, he was locked in a supply closet with his stepson, because both of them were far more afraid of Inko than they were of any villain.

“Think she’d let us out if we both agree we’re done here, and we both want to leave?” Tomura asked, half joking.

Hisashi considered for a moment. Anybody else he might have tried. Inko?

“Not worth the risk,” he grumbled.

Tomura appeared to agree. Hisashi sighed as he slid down next to Tomura. Might as well, because they were probably going to be stuck in here until it was time to move out. They sat in awkward silence for several minutes, neither one of them saying a word when a sudden memory popped into Hisashi’s head.

“Still,” he said. “Not as small or cramped as the space under your bed.”

Tomura looked up at him in surprise.

“You remember that?”

“Remember?” Hisashi chuckled. “I’m pretty sure I got back problems bending down and trying to coax you out from under there those first couple of days you lived with me.”

Tomura smiled and nodded.

“You camped out beside the bed,” he recalled. “And you tried to tempt me out with food.”

 “All I got was a tiny gloved hand sticking out of the bed and snatching the food!” Hisashi laughed.

He held out his hand, barely visible in the dark, and mimed snatching a plate in front of him before bringing it back close. Tomura snorted at the image.

“I barely remember that,” he admitted. “I was so scared at the time. So scared that I was going to lose control and someone would die again.”

They drifted off into silence as the unspoken tension returned. That someone did die. That Tomura killed a villain with his quirk, the first person since his family. And rather than Hisashi helping him through that trauma, he told Tomura he was proud of him.

Hisashi… he had been a fool.

He was proud of Tomura. Proud of him for taking down a villain. Proud of him for holding his own against En. Proud of him for doing everything he could to protect his little brother.

Not proud of him for killing.

So why couldn’t he say that when it seemed so obvious in his head?

“And then… you told me it was okay,” Tomura spoke up. “You hung up fairy lights under the bed and left me cups of hot chocolate. You said… ‘everything is okay. You’re going to be okay. Take as long as you need. We’ll go at your own pace.’”

Hisashi remembered. That first week when he brought Tomura home had been… one of the most difficult times of his life. Only surpassed by the last months, when Izuku had been taken from them.

“I looked up to you ever since,” Tomura admitted, wiping his eyes. “You were my hero. And all I’ve ever wanted to do was be like you and make you proud. I wanted Izuku to admire me the same way I admire you. Your motto has always been ’Protect those who cannot protect themselves.’ I wanted to do that. I wanted to protect my baby brother.”

He laughed humorlessly as he shook his head, focusing on the faint light that came through the door.

“And now Izuku is gone because I failed to look after him,” he continued, suppressing a sob. “And Mom is crying every night, and when she tried to help me, I only made things worse. Dabi is dead, and we can’t do anything to change that or make it right for his family. And… Izuku was right there and I failed. I killed En. I killed someone, I lost control because I had no idea what else to do, and it didn’t make a damn difference, because Izuku is still trapped!”

His breath hitched, as he slipped his hand over his mouth, refusing to cry in front of his father, his hero. He didn’t want to be weak in front of him. He didn’t want to be a failure once more. He wanted to make him proud. He had always wanted to make Hisashi proud.

“I’m trying,” he whispered. “I’m trying to be like you, but I keep failing, and others pay the price. And I’m sorry. I know you expect more of me and I—”

He was cut off when Hisashi wrapped his arms around his son and pulled him into a tight hug. He buried Tomura’s face into his shoulder, allowing the boy to cry, while he tried to hold back his own tears.

“Expect more?” he repeated, kissing Tomura’s hair. “Tomura I… I have- I am- so proud of you. I have always been proud of you. But I never wanted you to feel like you had to follow me or appease me in any way.”

His son had been lost. So lost. And like the idiot he was, Hisashi failed to see it because he had all of his focus on finding Izuku and his brother. He never stopped to realize just how much his oldest son was hurting, and how much he needed him.

“Tomura… you don’t protect those who can’t protect themselves,” he said carefully. “You remember them. You remember everyone the world would choose to forget. You remembered Izuku and looked after him when we assumed nothing was wrong. You will remember Dabi, even after everyone else has moved on. You remember your family. And always, without fail, you listen to them. Even me. Tomura… you shouldn’t have to feel like you need to live up to me as a hero. You are already a far greater hero than I could ever hope to be.”

Tomura shook in his arms, and for this moment in this closet, they were no longer All For One and Sandman. They were the broken man who had saved a lonely child, and a broken child who had saved a lonely man. Father and son, nothing more and nothing less.

“But I-“ Tomura protested. “I… I killed him, Dad! I don’t want to do that ever again.”

“I know,” Hisashi assured him. “It’s going to be okay, I promise. I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I put this burden on you, Tomura. I just hope one day you can forgive me for not seeing how badly you needed me, and instead thrusting everything on your shoulders.”

Tomura sobbed and clung to his father. Hisashi cradled his boy close, hushing him as his own heart broke. He had failed both of his sons. He failed to find Izuku, and now he was failing Tomura.

“I’m sorry I didn’t bring him home–”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“I tried so hard.”

“I know you did.”

“I… I don’t know if I can keep doing this,” Tomura whispered. “What I feel… It's too much. And… and people have gotten hurt because of me. People I love. I don’t want to– I shouldn’t because I’m a hero, and how I feel doesn’t matter–”

“That’s a load of garbage!” Hisashi promised him emphatically. “You do matter. You’ve always mattered. And how you feel is one of the most important things to me. You are my son, Tomura. You will always be my son.”

Tomura let out a shuddering breath as he tried to calm himself down. Hisashi hadn’t fixed everything. Not by a long shot.

But as he hugged his son in this cramped, dark closet, something inside him knew that everything would be okay.

“I don’t know if I can come back from this,” Tomura whispered.

“That’s okay,” Hisashi promised him. “You're going to be okay. We’ll go at your own pace.”

They waited for a few moments, and Hisashi used a quirk to clean off Tomura’s face. Then he helped Tomura to his feet and knocked on the door.

Inko opened the door, and only had to take one look at their faces to know that they had done what she had asked. Without a word, she pulled them both into a tight hug. They returned it without hesitation.

 Their family, fractured by the loss of Izuku, had finally come together.

 


 

Hisashi stood before the assembled Heroes, and couldn’t help but smile beneath his mask. Before him were people he had helped when they were at their lowest points in life. People whom he helped to give fresh starts. People he had saved somehow, in some way.

People who when they heard that All For One needed help, answered the call without hesitation.

Sandman stood at the forefront, with his mentor Loud Cloud right beside him. Compress, Twice, and Spinner stood behind, looking ready for a fight. And last but not least, Present Mic and Eraserhead, who still chose to help All For One after he saved their friend when they were students.

And with them, about thirty to forty police officers and SWAT members who had fought beside him, or had worked with Touya.

Toga would be helping the police run everything, but Hisashi refused to bring a minor to this fight.

“What we have here,” he stated. “Is an opportunity unlike any other. Every time these villains have encountered us, they have been prepared, expecting us, and every time they turn everything we have into their own advantage. And as a result, TOO MANY people die!”

Because in the end, that was what Yoichi wanted. To prove to Hisashi that his ideals were useless and foolish. To show him he couldn’t strive towards his goal of protecting those who could not protect themselves.

To make sure Hisashi had no one but his little brother.

“We have a chance to turn the tables on them, and beat them at their own game. It will be a rough fight, but by Kami, we will win! There is an innocent boy’s life on the line, and I. Will. Not. Fail. Him!”

“None of us will!” Loud Cloud shouted, and his words were met with shouts of agreement from all around.

Hisashi nodded and looked at the police.

“The villains have kidnapped an innocent boy to brainwash and groom into becoming one of them,” he stated. “They are behind the Hosu Bombings. And then they killed one of our own in cold blood. Today, we are ending their reign of terror. We bring justice to them today. For Izuku Midoriya. For the lives of all those who died in Hosu. For Dabi.”

“FOR MIDORIYA!” Sandman and Loud Cloud shouted.

“FOR HOSU!” Mic joined in, while Eraserhead half-heartedly raised his fist.

“FOR DABI!” Twice, Compress, and Spinner shouted.

Hisashi smiled grimly, hoping it masked how his heart was pounding.

“You know the plan!” He said. “Let’s move out!”

With military precision, everyone began to file out, ready to strike and take down the villains who had been forcing them to dance like puppets on strings for far too long.

It was time for Hisashi to confront his brother and end this fight once and for all. He knew it, as did everyone else.

There was still one last thing he had to do.

He and Tomura stopped only for a moment to give Inko one last hug.

“I love you both,” she whispered. “Now go and get them. Bring our baby home. And all three of you: come back to me, no matter what.”

Notes:

Next Chapter:

Dad was holding him close, fingers carding through his hair as Nana appeared from the cloud of surrounding smoke and ash around them. She was saying something, but Izuku couldn’t hear as she gently removed the handcuffs. She kissed Izuku’s forehead and smiled down at him as his ears still rang.

He shifted in Dad’s arms, wrapping his arms around his neck, wishing he could stop shaking, stand up, and help his family.

Chapter 32: Culmination

Summary:

Yoichi gives the family time to make decisions. Will they have the chance?

Notes:

Sorry for the delay in posting the chapter. But it is here now!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

When the vote came out in favor of not bringing Tomura in, Izuku fought past a nauseating mixture of relief and dread. His brother– no, not brother—Villain, something in Izuku corrected, even though he knew Tomura was his brother, right? All he knew for sure was that he wouldn’t have to share his family.

Tomura would be safe.

The unnoticed knot in his stomach had loosened, but the ache in his heart stung worse. He didn’t want to be alone. But was he alone? He had his family. His family was always there for him.

In the end, Izuku couldn’t keep his brother-villain Tomura safe. Like in everything, Izuku failed.

Yoichi was unwilling to accept inaction. “Either way, my big brother can’t have him. That means we either take Tomura by adopting him into the family or by killing him.”

Izuku had been devastated hearing that, his stomach lurching. And he wasn’t the only one upset. Hikage had, in that quiet, frustrated voice of his, protested. But Yoichi’s word was law. A revote would be required, but to give time to think, he was allowing a one day waiting period.

An entire day of Izuku agonizing over what to do about Tomura.

He couldn’t let Tomura die. He couldn’t.

Protect your family.

But he didn’t want Tomura with him here. His new family was so painfully nice to Izuku, but somehow, a voice screaming inside told him that Tomura wouldn’t want this. So, what to do?

For the time being, the family was taking a quiet break to think and reevaluate. Dad had put him down for once, letting Izuku play a game of Uno with Hikage and Banjo while Nana and All Smite talked.

Izuku still had handcuffs on. It was fitting punishment since En was dead. But he managed to hold his cards close to his chest, and when it was his turn, awkwardly place down his cards.

Banjo idly spun his cards with his tendrils of blackwhip. He looked unbothered and carefree except for the furrow in his brow and the squinting of his eyes. “Draw one,” he said, flipping a blue +1 card onto the stack.

Izuku sighed and transferred his cards to one hand, allowing him to use his other hand to grab a card off the top.

“Here,” Hikage said, picking a card off the top of the stack and handing it to Izuku.

“Thanks,” Izuku said, taking the card. It was a red 5. Not too bad, considering he had several in that color. His chances weren’t great, but there was still the possibility of winning.

Banjo cleared his throat, “Hey, kid. Why did you vote no? On bringing Sandman in, that is.”

The room fell silent, conversations not stopping but suddenly becoming quieter as if the listeners wanted to hear what Izuku had to say. His palms went slick, and he tightened his grasp on his cards. What did he say?

“I want…” Izuku began, “I want to protect my family. That’s why.”

Banjo’s eyes softened, “Alright then,” he said, his voice gruff from holding back emotion. “Alright then, kid.”

The conversation in the room rose to its normal level, but Izuku saw All Smite sending him a fond glance from across the room.

Hikage spoke up, “I believe it’s my turn-”

A knock sounded at the door. The family stiffened, eyes turning to Izuku, who sat numb with confusion. A knock? It obviously wasn’t for him. The last time someone had visited was that old friend of Nana, which was weeks ago.

“Hello, this is Pizza-La, Kamino store.”

Confused silence reigned over the room. Second turned an irritated eye on the family. “Alright, who ordered pizza?!”

But he didn’t get an answer as a loud crumbling, ripping noise sounded from the back wall. Izuku spun around as he watched the wall the couch rested against crumble into dust, the remnants torn away.

Wind rushed by him, and a force wrapped around Izuku. A second later, he realized it was the arms of his dad, All Smite.

The final portion of the wall fell away with a limb-shaking crash, revealing a large man floating in mid-air, a dark coat billowing around him like the wings of a fallen angel. A blue and red face mask covered most of his lower face, but Izuku recognized those sharp, crimson eyes.

Words choked in Izuku’s mouth as he found himself unable to speak the hero’s name, but Yoichi had no such issues, his mouth curling in a snarl. “The great hero All for One.”

“Yoichi,” All for One (that was Izuku’s DAD, his dad was here), the villain said. “You and your family have destroyed the lives of innocent people for too long. You have trampled those who could not protect themselves. But we are here today for them.” He spread his arms wide, and as Izuku glanced behind him, he noticed the rows of black police cars, officers holding guns, and heroes waiting.

They were here.

Finally.

Yoichi bared his teeth. “How lovely. But unfortunately, I have a family of my own more than capable of dealing with your motley lot.” He flashed Second a brief glance. “NOW!”

Izuku screamed at the sounds he hoped never to hear again.

The sounds of bombs exploding, instantly followed by smoke, dust, and- screamsalwaysscreamshisfaultallhisfault.

“NO!”

He gasped as Dad leapt into the air, arms still wrapped protectively around him, as Izuku’s world became flashing heat, smoke, and deafening noise.

It’s okay. It was okay. These were villains, and Second was doing what he had to do to protect the family.

But he had been good. He did what they said. He didn’t leave. Why were the bombs going off again?

He felt Dad land on the ground, in the alleyway where Izuku had tried to escape on his first night with his family.

Dad was holding him close, fingers carding through his hair as Nana appeared from the cloud of smoke and ash surrounding them. She was saying something, but Izuku couldn’t hear as she gently removed the handcuffs. She kissed Izuku’s forehead and smiled down at him as his ears still rang.

He shifted in Dad’s arms, wrapping his arms around his neck, wishing he could stop shaking, stand up, and help his family.

He could feel Dad’s chest vibrate as he spoke, but he couldn’t hear. But Izuku had a pretty good idea what Dad and Nana were saying as they immediately started down the alleyway.

They needed to run. They needed to get him out of here.

They needed to be sure he stayed with his family.

 


 

Spinner cursed when the bombs went off, sending him flying off of the building he was scaling. With instincts that training and ages of playing video games with Tomura developed, he detached from the wall and twisted his body around in the air.

Even though he was flying blind in the smoke and ash, he transferred his knife to his mouth and angled his body to negotiate his fall.

When he was younger, Spinner’s home village had mocked him and discriminated against him for having a mutant quirk. He tried to stand up for himself and protect other mutant quirks like him through vigilantism. He thought it was the world against those with mutations like his.

He only made things worse. Some agreed with his ideals but not his methods. Others accused him of making things worse. He was so convinced he was right that he dug himself further and further into a hole until he was looking up from the bottom of a pit, no way to climb out.

But All For One had found him when he was at rock bottom, and he had shown him another way. He had taught him not only that he didn’t need to be ashamed of his quirk, but to embrace it.

And the boy, little Izuku Midoriya? He had helped him learn that being cold blooded like a lizard could have his advantages. Such as being able to detect what surfaces were radiating heat to warm his cold blood and which ones were safe to touch, even when he could see nothing.

He outstretched his hands, and the pads of his palms and fingers connected instantly to the cool brick wall he had aimed his body for. His body slammed on impact and it took all his power to keep his hold, but by Kami, he made it!

He scaled down the wall, knife still in mouth, and reached the ground. 
His comms were fried. Not good. He had to regroup and find where everyone else was. He wasn’t losing another friend after Dabi. He wasn’t letting this kid suffer more after everything the villains had put him through.

A figure appeared out of the smoke, and Spinner warily grabbed his blade.

Brown ponytail, scar across his face. And a wicked-looking blade in his hand. Spinner recognized this villain as Third, the serial killer who had helped take down Ingenium. His eyes were lit with a manic glee as he found Spinner, even if he frowned.

“Here I was hoping for someone like All For One, or another big name,” Third grumbled. “But I took apart lizards when I was a kid. They struggle and squirm, make little chirps but they just don't... scream like people do. Lizards are boring.”

Spinner readied his sword, glaring at the villain.

For Dabi. He would defeat this villain for Dabi, for All For One, and Izuku Midoriya.

 


 

Hikage felt Black Whip lift him up to the nearby building, where his gear and sniper rifle were waiting for him. Danger Sense flared around him as he loaded up his rifle, and began scanning for targets amongst the ash and smoke.

He could sense the deadly, burning sense of All For One across the street, no doubt fighting Dad. He could sense someone directly below him, the sensation of nausea and rot rolling off of them, who was running through the alleyway. He could detect several others.

He grinned as he got his rifle into position. After all these years, he didn’t need a scope or a visual to hone into a target’s location so long as they were dangerous. (And everyone worth targeting was at least a little dangerous.) All he needed was his quirk to find his targets. And today… All For One had provided him with no shortage of targets to take out.

This was going to be fun.

He would start with the police and swat officers he could detect evacuating people around the neighborhood. Let the poor civilians fall into chaos like ants in a ruined nest, watching as their saviors were shot down before their very eyes.

Hikage was never the type of villain who reveled in chaos like Dad, or Second-Dad, or Third-Dad. But he did love instigating the chaos his family flourished in.

It was, after all, always the quiet ones you had to watch out for.

 


 

Yoichi remained where he stood, even as the entire building shook from Second’s bombs going off. The others scattered as they had drilled before.

Third and Daigoro went to opposite sides of the area and would pick off the stragglers who were thrown off by the explosions. Hikage would get into position to shoot down everyone in the ensuing chaos. Toshinori and Nana’s priority was to get their little fighter out and to safety. Second would set off the other bombs they had planted in the surrounding areas when they first moved into their lovely little home.

And Yoichi? Yoichi was back to where he always belonged.

Facing down his older brother, who had not even been shaken from the explosions.

“Aw, you’ve changed, Big Brother,” he teased. “Not even going to save those poor little sheep who got caught in the bombs?”

“We evacuated the area before striking,” Hisashi replied evenly. “I knew you had some sort of plan up your sleeve.”

Now where was the fun in that? As always, his brother tried to save unimportant lives, and gave Yoichi less toys to play with.

Still, it was proof that his brother was learning after two hundred years.

No matter how much they fought, people got hurt. And while Yoichi couldn’t care less about those people weak enough to die, Hisashi did. It would be so much easier for the man when he stopped caring about the little ants that he tried to protect. If he just realized Yoichi was the only one he could love, because he belonged to Yoichi and Yoichi alone.

“So untrusting,” Yoichi sighed. “And after I spared your pretty little wife.”

“She stabbed you in the back,” Hisashi replied flatly.

“She got lucky!”

“Right,” Hisashi drawled, clearly not believing him.

Yoichi fought not to gnash his teeth at his brother’s taunt. He had a feeling he could threaten Inko all he wanted, but his brother would always think she would have the final laugh.

How was it that his brother looked up to such a weak, insignificant woman, yet still looked down on Yoichi as weak and someone to protect? Time to remind his big brother that he wasn't weak. Time to show him that he always knew exactly where to hurt his older brother. That when he struck, he went straight for the heart.

“Come on then, big brother,” he challenged as he drew his knives. “Let’s finish what we started. Winner gets the little fighter as a prize… oh wait.”

His eyes flashed as he grinned at his older brother.

“I’ve already won then.”

Hisashi faltered for just a split second, and Yoichi took the opportunity to twist the knife.

“That’s right, big brother. Your sweet little stepson is now the new bearer of One for All.”

Notes:

Next time:

"You've come to arrest us, Eraserhead?" Aizawa stiffened at the use of his hero name. "Yes, we know you. The one with the erasure quirk. Not that it matters much to me, I stopped using my quirk on weakling heroes like you years ago. I prefer a little more firepower." His mouth curved into something less like a smile and more like a snarl. "Let's get this started."

Chapter 33: Duel

Notes:

For those who didn't know, this fic is part of a series now, and part 2 covers the background of the different OFA family members and how they were adopted.

Check it out here: When the Angels Fall

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Unlike the rest of his colleagues, Aizawa Shouta (hero name: Eraserhead) wasn't part of the group surrounding the villain's hideout. Unlike his obnoxiously loud friends, he wasn't a mainstream hero. He didn't do daytime raids.
 
He was part of sting operations and ambushes in the dead of night. All of this was completely outside his usual mode of operation. But when Loud Cloud had come begging for Aizawa's and Mic's assistance in saving some kidnapped child, Aizawa couldn't refuse.
 
But that didn't mean he would be an idiot and completely disregard his usual mode of operation. Instead, he found a quiet vantage point on a nearby building and hid hunched in a shadow. He watched them send in the decoy pizza man and when All for One and Sandman destroyed the outer layer of the wall, revealing the villains hidden inside like trapped mice. It was the perfect place to watch.
 
However, it also meant that he had a perfect view of when the bombs exploded. The detonations shook the buildings and streets in a chain reaction like clockwork. On the road, officers and heroes ran for cover, Present Mic even using his defeating screams to knock a fallen piece of rubble out of their way.
 
The debris and smoke rattled Aizawa. He could feel his hands sweating as he remembered his second year at UA and the building collapse that almost took his friend. All for One had been the one to pull Loud Cloud out of the rubble. And if Aizawa could, he would return the favor by saving the hero's kid.
 
Leaping up from his vantage spot, Aizawa ran across the rooftops, peering through the smoke for any sign of fleeing villains. The clouds of smoke made the bombing's destruction look absolute, but as Aizawa scanned, he noted gaps in the demolition. Key places of retreat where the villains could escape.

And at one of them, towards the front of the collapsing building, Aizawa noted a blurred figure. The villain was running through the half-demolished levels of the building, stopping at particular places to grab objects.
 
"There you are," he said to himself. Grasping at his capture weapon, he threw the strands out, latching onto lamp posts and fire escapes to fling himself down and towards the escaping figure.
 
Aizawa launched himself through a gap in a wall and threw his capture weapon out at the villain. With the villain's back to Aizawa, he shouldn't have noticed the incoming threat, but with a knowing smile, the villain spun out of the way and grabbed onto the end of the capture weapon.
 
Aizawa hit the ground in a roll and sprung to his feet, his hair rising around his head as he activated his quirk.
 
The figure coolly regarded him, not letting go of the capture weapon. He was well built with spiky blonde hair and an x-mark scar crossing his face. The terrorist Second.
 
"You've come to arrest us, Eraserhead?" Aizawa stiffened at the use of his hero name. "Yes, we know you. The one with the erasure quirk. Not that it matters much to me, I stopped using my quirk on weakling heroes like you years ago. I prefer a little more firepower." His mouth curved into something less like a smile and more like a snarl. "Let's get this started."


 



 
One thing about fighting someone with a propensity for explosions, the terrain constantly changed. Aizawa had chased Second through several buildings across several flights and after a huge explosion in an alley.
 
The hero's surprise attack had stopped Second from retrieving and thus using his favorite handheld weapon, but the alternative wasn't much better. Bombs. Hundreds of bombs were strapped across Second in varying size and strength, which he employed with terrifying exactness.
.
Several police officers had gotten too close to some explosions and screamed with agony as their flesh seared away. Thankfully, the latest attack had knocked debris down from the building, blocking off police access and Second's escape route. However, it meant that Aizawa was on his own.
 
Second's eyes were cold and focused, a light sparking in them only when Aizawa got too close to an attack or a building took significant damage.
 
Leaping away from another grenade, Aizawa flung himself halfway up a building. He panted and adjusted his goggles. As a rule, Aizawa preferred long-distance attacks, allowing his capture weapon to protect him, but in this case, it worked against him and allowed Second to use his bombs with little fear of injury.
Aizawa grit his teeth. Long-range was no longer a choice. It was time to get up and personal.
 
Jumping to the ground, he sprinted forward, arms crossed, capture weapon in hand. He jumped over an explosion and hit the ground in a roll before dodging out of the way and to the side. Second stepped back, but Aizawa lunged forward, knee extended, and slammed into Second's side.
 
The villain grunted but swung his arm in Aizawa's direction, forcing Aizawa to backbend out of the way.
Second smirked. "Wanting to slug it out? Fine, I'll oblige." He threw a right hook, his knuckles grazing Aizawa's cheek before rushing forward. His attacks came fast and strong, each punch having enough force behind them to knock Aizawa out.
 
The bombs were less destructive, but this close fighting was almost worse. Second had decades, if not centuries of fighting experience. He was aggressive but also calculating. Anytime Aizawa tried to create some distance, Second grabbed a bomb, throwing it into Aizawa's path of escape.
 
Snatching his capture weapon, Aizawa wrapped his fists as if to protect his knuckles. But as he threw a punch and Second went to dodge, he shifted, spinning the scarf to bind the villain's wrists.
.
"Not bad," Second grunted before yanking away and pulling Aizawa forward and into a knee. Pain erupted in Aizawa's forehead, his eyesight blurring in pained white. Second twisted behind him, and as Aizawa staggered, he caught a glint of metal coming towards his neck.
 
"Halt you, villain!"
 
Aizawa blinked, unsure if he was passing out or if he had heard the loud voice of Ingenium's kid brother. But the figment didn't disappear, as a body charged towards the centuries-old villain.
 
Several things happened at once. As Tenya charged forward (foolishly oblivious to the danger he was in), Second grabbed at a bomb, momentarily loosening his grip on his knife and giving Aizawa the fraction of a moment needed to spin away.
 
Second's bomb soared through the air but landed against a wall of ice instead of Ingenium's stupid little brother. The ice shattered, crystals lodging themselves in the alley's wall and flakes drifting to the ground.
 
As the mist of ice dissipated, an additional figure stood, his red and white hair fluttering as he breathed out a puff of air. "Another hero, wannabe?" Second grumbled.
 
Aizawa felt like grumbling as well. He didn't need another child trying to get themself killed by challenging a villain. But the kid didn't seem to get the memo as he yelled, "You killed my brother!"
 
Second rolled his eyes. "One of Dabi's brat siblings, great." He plucked two bombs off his combat vest. "I wonder if you'll die as pitifully as your brother."
 
The Todoroki screamed back, Tenya's voice echoing with him. And as if together, they launched their attack, Tenya racing forward, and Todoroki's ice crackled after.
 
They were going to die, Aizawa thought as he rushed forward. A knife swiped by his head, and he dropped to his knees, sliding along the ice to avoid the swipe of a knife while throwing out a tendril of his capture weapon.

The fabric tightened around Second's legs and yanked him back right as he threw his weapons. Their trajectory disturbed, the bombs flew backward, exploding against a chunk of the building.
 
Second's head slammed against the icy concrete with a painful crunch, but Aizawa still yanked the villain towards him and delivered a sharp punch to the villain's temples. Second went limp, his look of cold determination disappearing.
 
Aizawa wasted no time spinning the villain onto his stomach and handcuffing his wrists behind his back. With that reassuring click, Aizawa slumped forwards, exhausted by his fight. He had almost died far too many times for comfort.
 
He reached for his communicator. "This is Eraserhead. I've got the villain Second restrained at the side west alleyway and am requesting a police escort for him-" he flung his capture weapons out, pinning the two children trying to slip away- "and two unauthorized children vigilantes."


 


 

Spinner drew his blade, watching Third warily. The man was carrying an extended version of a Jagdkommando blade, one that had three edges instead of two that twisted together to a point. It was designed to inflict fatal, agonizing damage. Spinner had no doubt Third was just itching to try it on him.
 
He raised his blade, and without saying a word, the two blade-wielders crossed swords.
 
The first few strikes were almost experimental as they tested each other's responses. As he thought, Third moved with expert precision, deflecting each strike as if Spinner was simply a beginner.
 
He stepped forward and lunged at the villain, swiping with his great sword. Third easily dodged and rolled away, coming up again to attack Spinner's side. Spinner was able to pull back his sword to block the strike, not liking how the twisted blade seemed to be able to slip through the different blades of his sword. That thing was going to hurt if Third could get him.
 
Third was on the move again, and this time his strike was stronger, actually breaking off several of the blades strapped together to make Spinner's swords. Spinner grunted, his mind racing to figure out how that was possible.
 
But before he even got the chance, the man was lunging at him again, and Spinner leaped back, scaling the walls to remain out of his reach as he swung his sword at him again. Sparks were emitted from where his sword scraped the concrete as Third dodged him. He grinned and leaped higher than anyone should have been able to, and Spinner was forced to leap off the wall, landing on his feet.
 
Wait… All For One said his quirk was to build up his kinetic energy and momentum so that it takes the form of strength. He was moving all around and building up his power to break Spinner's sword.

He was being toyed with. He was seeing that now. Third was taking his time to enjoy watching Spinner struggle against him before he killed him painfully with a weapon that was a war crime to use.
 
Admittedly, a pretty cool way to go out. But not one Spinner wanted to have today. Not until he saved Midoriya and helped Sandman's family come together safe and sound.
 
"Huh… not bad, Lizard," Third noted with a lazy grin. "I have to admit, you're better than I expected."
 
"Then why are you smiling?" Spinner grunted through clenched teeth.
 
"Because I know something you don't know: I am not left-handed!"
 
With a casual spin, the villain threw his sword up in the air and caught it in his right hand. Spinner instantly could tell the skill levels had changed (and there was already a large gap between them in terms of skill). Where before he was able to defend himself decently, now he was barely able to dodge and block Third's strikes.
 
He was constantly moving, trying not to stay too long in one place and give Third an opportunity to hit, but it felt like the villain could anticipate every move. A deep cut at Spinner's arm, even though the blade had barely grazed him. A swipe took out a chunk of Spinner's hair, a lunge severing his mask, and always breaking his weapon, again and again.
 
Spinner's sword had been reduced to several shards and broken knives and blades. He had to watch his step and tried to run on the walls to avoid the metal that littered the ground, only for the villain to leap up and knock him down with his quirk-powered blow.
 
Spinner lost his balance as he fell. His body was making a choice between breathing and balance, and it chose breathing. He gasped for air through broken ribs as the shards of his sword sliced at his legs, back, and arms.
 
Third advanced on him, and instinctively Spinner raised his blade to defend himself.
.
Third stabbed into the sword, and the twisted blade caught on the belt that held Spinner's weapons together. With a savage cry, Third pulled his blade out, and the belt was ripped into pieces. Spinner cried out in alarm as his blade fell apart.
 
The sky rained swords as they all clattered around him, the metal clanging and ringing out and sounding all too pretty for what had just happened. In his hand was the two-handed hilt and a single saber blade.
 
He had lost his weapon. And this was a villain with about 200 years of experience.
 
He was dead.
 
Third was grinning lazily as he tossed his blade from hand to hand. He looked like he was pleasantly surprised over an unimportant matter. Like he had a nice treat on a milk run.
Spinner was about to die, but the villain only looked happy that he wasn't bored.
 
Spinner had failed All For One. He had failed Dabi. He had tried but… it wasn't enough.
 
"Have to admit, Lizard, you weren't as boring as others," he stated. "Actually did a decent job holding your own. Much better than that detective friend of yours."
 
Lizard.
 
That had been Dabi's nickname for him. He had been the only one allowed to call him that.
 
And the idea that the man who might have killed Dabi was calling him that while taunting him about Dabi's death…
 
Third lunged at him, and Spinner lifted his sword. He should not have been able to counter the blade, but he wasn't trying to block the blow completely. Just redirect it, so the blade dug into his shoulder instead of his heart. Spinner grunted with pain as the twisted tip of the blade met his shoulder and then harshly ripped back.
 
Third looked somewhat surprised he was still fighting back and lunged again. This time Spinner was able to block the blade, so it only grazed his arm.
 
"My name is not 'Lizard.' My name is Spinner," he said quietly. "You killed my friend. Prepare to die."
.
He stood up, though his body was bleeding in different places, his sword broken, and tears in his eyes. Third struck again, but with his shorter reach and without the bigger blade to worry about, Spinner was able to dodge more easily than before.
 
"My name is Spinner. You killed my friend. Prepare to die."
 
The blades clashed again, but this time Spinner was able to push him back. He was able to actually gain ground as he fought the villain off with a broken blade, fueled on adrenaline and rage. His sword slipped past the man's guard and hit his collar bone.
 
He had made him bleed.
 
"My name is Spinner!" He repeated, shouting out his mantra. "You killed my friend! Prepare to die!"
 
"Stop saying that!" The villain retorted, eyes no longer manic but wide with worry.
 
This time it was Spinner who attacked, far more precise and willful than any strike the villain could have. He drew blood again. Third lunged at him, but Spinner twisted his sword as their blades collided and used the man's increased momentum against him.
 
The Jagdkommando blade went spinning into the air and among the mess of fallen blades. He lunged, forcing the villain up against the wall.
 
"My name is SPINNER! You killed my FRIEND! Prepare to DIE!"
 
"No!" Third cried as Spinner's blade slashed against his shoulder.
 
"Offer me money!" Spinner challenged.
 
"Everything," Third answered.
 
"Power too, promise me that!"
 
"Name it, and it's yours."
 
"Offer me anything I wish," Spinner continued.
 
"All that I have and more."
 
Spinner's eyes were cold as his blade struck the man by the side of his head, knocking him unconscious. The villain collapsed at his feet, and Spinner looked down on him disdainfully as his eyes swam with tears.
 
"I want my friend back, you son of a bitch." 

Notes:

Next Chapter:

Atsuhiro sighed as he started filling his pockets full of compressed rubble. They had acknowledged the outcome of bombs as a possibility but not the sheer number. The villains would likely fall back onto old patterns, their long lives and established dynamics making them somewhat predictable in how they arranged themselves to fight. While it had originally been the plan for Atsuhiro to go against Third (kinetic energy meant very little when you could be turned to a marble with merely a touch), now it seemed to be a matter of finding whatever villains remained and subduing them.

Chapter 34: Middlegame

Summary:

The battle rages on...

Chapter Text

Atsuhiro sighed as he started filling his pockets full of compressed rubble. They had acknowledged the outcome of bombs as a possibility but not the sheer number. The villains would likely fall back onto old patterns, their long lives, and established dynamics, making them somewhat predictable in how they arranged themselves to fight. While it had originally been the plan for Atsuhiro to go against Third (kinetic energy meant very little when you could be turned into a marble with merely a touch), now it seemed to be a matter of finding whatever villains remained and subduing them.

Having read the reports, he immediately sought out the high-reaching places, searching for the glint of a barrel or a flicker of movement. Shinomori Hikage was notorious for finding somewhere to act as a sniper. His quirk let him know when he was in danger, making it ideal for repositioning and knowing the locations of potential targets. Although, perhaps it could be used against him. If Atsuhiro approached his little nest, maybe he could catch the man fleeing. Then it would simply be a matter of who was faster.

Atsuhiro took off his iconic yellow coat and covered it in the fine gray dust surrounding him. Once he made certain his mask was secure, he donned his jacket once more and started making his way to the nearest somewhat intact perch he could find. After all, he had one thing to accomplish, a mission given by the person who had saved him.

He was actually in the minority at his workplace. Almost everyone else had been saved by All for One and gravitated towards the sense of hope he provided, like creatures looking for somewhere safe to stay in winter. 

Atsuhiro didn’t snap and murder someone after being neglected for years. He didn’t have quirk trauma that made him question if he was real. He didn’t become a vigilante after dealing with too much discrimination. He didn’t have an abusive father and burn scars. He didn’t accidentally kill people when his quirk first activated.

The truth was he had no sob story. Atsuhiro was never someone who stumbled into a life of crime. He barreled into it knowingly, following his father every step of the way. He stole without remorse. It was a game, a grand stage for him to perform on!

Or at least it was, until he stole from the wrong person. It was quite a shock to have all of his marbles yanked from him by some invisible force and even more shocking to have the seemingly non-threatening woman rip his mask away with her quirk. The woman had grabbed him by the ear and dragged him all the way to a nearby cafe. They attracted some strange looks, but no one intervened. He was too startled to resist. 

Atsuhiro received a warm drink and some of the most scathing life advice he had ever heard. The woman had seen through all his insecurities about not being able to make his deceased father proud by being as good of a thief as him. 

She had changed his life over the course of one conversation, showing him that his father wouldn’t be proud of him for chasing a hollow goal instead of actually living his life. That woman put him on the path to where he is today, a hero working alongside his found family.

And Atsuhiro had never stopped trying to repay Inko Midoriya for it.

So when she said, “Make sure my son is brought home to me,” he knew he would do anything to make it so.

A shadow flitted away from the window, and he ran towards it. On instinct, he started throwing bits of rubble at random between them. The sound of high-caliber bullets colliding with rocks told him all he needed to know. Shinomori was shooting to kill, and his sights were set on Atsuhiro.

That was fine by him. He’d much rather be shot at than hear a friend cry out in pain. Eventually, he paused in his chase as he was out of marbles. Surprisingly, he was allowed to replenish his supply without issue. Did Shinomori’s quirk only provide him with information when Atsuhiro was actively pursuing him?

That created a perplexing situation. If he chased, the sniper would know exactly where he was and shoot. If he didn’t, there would be no way to catch said villain. Even if he was unable to catch him, stalling the sniper would still be beneficial to his teammates. So after sucking down a determined breath, he charged back into the fray, tossing his marbles and releasing them to obscure Shinomori’s sight.

Eventually, he saw the man gazing blankly at him from across the top of a building that had definitely seen better days. For a moment, he thought maybe the man could be baited into a conversation that would allow Atsuhiro to get close enough to use his quirk. Unfortunately, the villain had a plan of his own. Too late, he realized in mounting horror that Shinomori was no longer facing Atsuhiro.

There would be no way to get there in time. The villain propped his rifle against the rooftop and took deliberate aim at Spinner, now standing triumphantly over a downed figure. Even though he knew it would be futile, he dipped his hand into a pocket for another bit of compressed rubble. Without faltering, he hurled it at the villain and released his quirk to reveal what used to be an industrial fridge.

Atsuhiro watched the trajectory even as he ran forward, unable to close the distance in time.

The shot rang out, deafening.

It went wide, hitting nowhere near Spinner, who was now dragging the villain away to gain better cover.

Shinomori paused in shock, staring at something below him before yanking his gun to the side harshly and sprinting away. Atsuhiro ran to where the villain was and glanced down to see none other than Twice half hanging out of a window, one hand gripping the roof.

“Compress! Glad to see you! Go away, I don’t like your ugly mug.

“How did you sneak up on him?” Atsuhiro pondered in confusion. “His quirk detects danger.”

I’m going to throttle that punk. Why would I want to hurt him?”

Suddenly the storage hero gave out an amused chuckle. “Twice, my dear friend, you’re playing two very different parts in this performance.”

“So? I always do.”

Atsuhiro’s eyes sparkled. “Don’t you see how in character you are? An actor for the ages! I see now what we have to do.”

Let’s get him for Dabi! Do we have to?”

“You’ll play the lead role, bringing this production to its dramatic conclusion by defeating the antagonist. As for me…” Atsuhiro spat out the marble he kept under his tongue for emergencies. “I’ll be what I’ve always been.”

“The show must go on. I’ll make this guy’s arse my stage.”

 


 

Atsuhiro watched Loud Cloud fight, practically dancing in the sky with one of the villains. As much as he wanted to go help the other hero, he knew his efforts were better served elsewhere. Soon enough, a flicker of movement to the side drew his eye.

Shinomori was here, finding a position to try and shoot the quick-moving Loud Cloud from. As soon as Atsuhiro made the decision to attack, he saw the villain tense and look in his direction. As the gun rounded on him, he hurled all three marbles, releasing them just a little above the ground.

Double was a very powerful quirk, but it became even more so in combination with Compress. Something they’d learned through experimentation was that when one of Atsuhiro’s marbles was doubled, the entire contents of the second would be copied over.

Three ant hills shattered around the villain’s feet. Shinomori’s grip slipped on his rifle as one hand went to clutch at his head. With the momentary distraction, Atsuhiro ran forward, barely making it step before the villain seemed to recover enough to aim his gun again, making him scramble for cover.

“Not so pleasant, is it?” Atsuhiro asked. “So many creatures all around that want nothing more than to inject their venom into your body. It must be unpleasant to be aware of all ten thousand of them.”

The villain gave no response, merely trying to step away from the swarm surrounding him, stomping the insects without care. That would only make them more irritated. Each time Shinomori killed an ant, the others’ intent to harm him would grow stronger. If the deepening wince was any indication, it was starting to take a toll.

Atsuhiro shot forward anytime he saw the villain start to move, momentarily vulnerable and unable to fire his gun. They played this dance for a bit, the hero getting closer little by little as the villain inched his way back from the ants.

The slip-up was unavoidable, really. During one of Atsuhiro’s rushes forward, Shinomori was momentarily distracted, already starting to let the danger of the ants fade to the back of his mind to pay attention to the hero. One of them managed to reach the villain’s ankle and bite.

A cry of pain slipped past Shinomori’s lips, the first sound he’d made during the whole fight.

“Bullet ants, nasty little creatures,” Atsuhiro commented playfully. “Their bite is considered the most painful for any species of ant. People say it’s like being hit with a bullet. I find it oddly fitting for a shooter like you.”

The villain stumbled away from the ants without even trying to stall the hero’s approach, hands shaking and breath coming quickly. All of his movements were jerky, too much stimulation coming from the combination of quirk and venom.

When Atsuhiro got within three arm's length, the villain paused to bring his gun up. The barrel wasn’t steady, the sniper’s cool facade gone, but it was still dangerous. The hero ducked for cover.

“Many people think I enjoy theater. They call me Many Faced, an actor playing a part. Others call me Sticky Fingers, thinking me the thief. They would have been right for a time, but someone I’d do anything to repay cast me elsewhere.” Atsuhiro started walking out from his cover confidently, Shinomori crying out in pain from another bite. “But if you check the credits, you’ll learn the truth. My name is Atsuhiro Sako, and my role is Magician.”

Twice, hidden this whole time behind a fallen beam that Atsuhiro had been working his way towards, leaped out to pat the villain on the head.

“Hey, that looks like it hurts.” The doubler caused Shinomori panic, the villain’s own quirk failing to detect the more peaceful personality’s presence. “I can make it worse.

“Made you look,” the magician mocked.

The fight was far too close to use his gun. Shinomori stumbled through a few dodges, but it wasn’t enough.

Atsuhiro smiled behind his mask as his friend made short work of the fight. Between too much background noise from the ants and only being able to detect Twice half of the time, Shinomori quickly learned the dangers of growing far too reliant on his quirk.

How funny that his own power didn’t register itself as a threat.

Atsuhiro stalked toward the restrained villain and placed a hand over Shinomori’s face.

"Abbra kadabra." 

 


 

Oboro panted, the weight of various debris being slowed, making him strain. When the bombs went off, he made as many clouds as he could to give people enough time to run. Surely that had to be long enough. He couldn’t keep this up much longer if he wanted to be able to help fight. With a sigh of relief, he let everything fall.

Something thin and black struck out next to him, making him roll away. Immediately, he jumped on a cloud to gain an aerial advantage. It was one of the villains, Banjo, if he remembered correctly. His quirk gave him weird shadow strings. (He was fully aware they were composed of some sort of energy, but shadow strings sounded way cooler.) The villain's eyes were red, and if Oboro could read people as well as he did, he could tell the man was heartbroken. 

Oboro hated fighting people who were hurting. He wanted to help them, not make the pain worse. So even if this was a villain who still killed so many people, Oboro knew he had to help him smile. As a Hero, that was his duty. 

Banjo stretched out an arm and flung a fallen pillar at Oboro, who just moved his cloud out of the way.

“Holy crap, man! That pillar must have weighed multiple tons. How much can you lift with those?” Oboro always tried to make friendly conversation during fights, even if the villain didn’t always play along. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes all the villain needed was someone to treat them like a person.

At Oboro's compliment, Banjo's mouth twitched as he threw more shadow strings for Oboro to dodge. 

“I once broke into the zoo to lift a few elephants!” Banjo boasted. His eyes roved to the white mass hanging off the ground. “But that trick with the fog was neat. Almost reminds me of... someone...”

That's right, En, the sixth successor. The one who had died fighting Tomura. Banjo had just lost his son. He must be in terrible agony, and yet he was still out here fighting. 

“They’re clouds, actually,” Oboro corrected sincerely, trying to dash in with his bo staff but rebuffed by Blackwhip. “One time, I lifted a whole high school class on a single cloud.”

“That’s pretty sweet.” Another pillar was thrown. “Hey, do you know math stuff?”

Oboro used his bo staff to bat a grenade back at the villain. “Of course I do! It took a bit for me to get the hang of it, but I did well on my tests.”

“Do you understand how to go between a fraction and a decimal? The little fighter showed me one day, but I forgot. I’m too embarrassed to ask him again.” Banjo rubbed the back of his head sheepishly while also trying to slap the hero out of the sky.

Oboro’s gut tightened at the mention of the kid they came here to save. He’d make sure this time they rescued him.  “Okay, move the decimal two places to the left to turn a percent to a decimal. Two places to the right turns a decimal into a percent. Hey, I love your goggles by the way.”

“YOU HAVE GOGGLES TOO?” One of the shadowy tendrils reached out to try snatch the accessory off of Oboro’s face.

“Did you just try to steal my goggles?” the hero cried in outrage. “I thought we were vibing here. Bro, that’s so not cool. I would never try to steal your goggles.”

Banjo at least looked somewhat guilty. “Sorry, I won’t do that again. I’ll just try to kill you instead of stealing your stuff.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” Oboro let Blackwhip pierce partway through a cloud before increasing the density, trapping it. A small yank had the villain stumbling forward before he finally managed to whip his quirk free. Could he not retract the tendrils if they were stuck on something? “Hey, do you like anime?”

“Another anime fan! We just have so much in common. Do you also like Battle Racers Grand?”

Oboro wanted to squeal, but the evasive maneuvers he was making didn’t give him enough time. “I love that show! No one else I know has ever seen it.”

“‘If you won’t get in my way–’”

“‘I guess I’ll just have to drive into yours!’” Oboro finished gleefully, still using clouds to test the limits of Blackwhip. “We finish each other’s anime catchphrases!”

“There’s only one explanation for this.” Banjo looked at him with great sincerity and a fair amount of vulnerability. “Can I just say something crazy?”

“What?”

“Will you be my friend?”

“Can I say something even crazier?” Oboro swiped away a cloud full of debris, letting it rain down on the villain. “Yes.”

Somewhere in the distance, a pained cry echoed out. The hero noted it but couldn’t really do much. He had a villain to stop, after all. A villain who wanted to be his friend!

“This is so awesome! Every other friend I’ve tried to make just runs away screaming ‘no you killed my family’ or something like that.” Banjo smiled openly, showing off his teeth as he ripped the pin off another grenade.

“I promise I’ll never run away from you, only toward you. Anytime you try to murder someone, I’ll be there to beat you up.” The hero smiled when the villain ducked away from the deflected grenade. Classic Banjo.

“Would you maybe want to be my henchman? Wait, no, that’s too forward. How about a hostage to start out with?” One of the tendrils dissipated a cloud the hero had been in the process of making. “We have snacks and cable.”

“We could have a sleepover in Tartarus,” Oboro suggested instead. This time when Banjo sent out a mass of whips, the clouds he’d been forming covertly spun out to intercept each one of them, solidifying as much as they were able to. The clouds pulled in different directions anchoring the villain to the ground. The hero approached, staff raised in the air. “When you wake up, tell the guards what kinds of movies you like, and I’ll pick a few to choose from.”

The staff came crashing down, causing the villain to yelp in pain but not blackout. Oboro blinked. “Your head is so hard! That’s always knocked people out before.”

“I practice on brick walls,” Banjo told him proudly in between attempts to bite him.

Oboro whacked him again, only for the same result to take place.

“You swing very hard,” the villain complimented.

“Thank you! I have this really great training routine.”

“We should totally work out together sometime! I keep trying to get into yoga but I don’t want to look stupid doing it by myself.”

“It’s a date,” Oboro agreed, striking out with his staff for a third and final time. The villain went limp.

“And Shouta says it’s impossible to make new friends on the job. Let's get you some help, bud.”

Chapter 35: Razor's Edge

Summary:

Tomura comes face to face with the monster of his nightmares.

Chapter Text

Tomura hadn't expected to find Izuku. The plan had been for him to help break into the safehold and then move to a backup position along the fight's perimeter, a street away from the hideout. After what happened last time Tomura got into a fight, he didn't trust himself to stay in control.

He had relished the feeling of flesh decaying underneath his fingers, the blood sticking and coating to the dust. He didn't want to feel that way again—he couldn't become a monster.

And yet when he saw the police cars flying through the air and the people screaming, he knew what was coming his way. Biting down on his gloves' straps, he ripped them off and slammed his hands down on the street. The pavement cracked and shuddered, large chunks dissolving into dust. The decay continued to spread, breaking down the flipped cars and building rubble.

Tomura allowed the destruction to continue but lifted his hands when he saw All Smite and his predecessor ( Tomura's grandmother ) slide to a stop in front of the decayed street.

All Smite wasn't in his typical villain costume with the ridiculous helmet and spiky shoulder pads, but the rippling muscles peeking through his torn white shirt were message enough. Tomura would die if he continued to engage.

But the flash of green tucked against All Smite's chest made the reality of the situation painfully clear. Peace was not an option.

Tomura shifted on the balls of his feet, preparing to sprint forward if All Smite chose to flee. He wouldn't let them leave with his brother.

However, he gently placed Izuku down next to a large chunk of debris (a sign from some building) and a flipped car. Izuku's eyes glowed a toxic green, and he looked disoriented as he glanced around his surroundings. And yet, despite being unbound, he did not attempt to escape or move when All Smite placed a kiss against his forehead.

They had already given his brother One for All.

Tomura had had nightmares as a child of being caught by his grandmother and her family, having the quirk forced upon him, and slowly losing all sense of who he was.

Tomura's mask had been destroyed in the last fight, and there hadn't been time to fix it, which meant All Smite got the full impact of Tomura's burning rage.

He dug his fingernails into his neck, feeling the skin peel up underneath. "You," he hissed.

"Me!" All Smite declared. The villain's eyes flashed, and his brow narrowed. "Don't think I've forgotten what you've done, family or not. You will pay."

Tomura splayed his hands wide. "As long as you get your just reward, I'll take whatever."

All Smite charged, and Tomura did the first thing he could think of: duck.

All Smite was a giant of a man, and his hits could easily smash the cars in the rubble. Tomura wouldn’t stand a chance if he got hit. He could, however, duck and avoid All Smite’s strikes, and dust the rubble between him and Izuku.

Izuku was his priority now. All Smite didn’t matter. Nobody else mattered. All that was important was getting his brother back.

“Oh no you don’t!”

Tomura was barely able to dodge the punch from All Smite, and instead dropped and decayed the pavement around the villain’s feet, hoping to disrupt his movement. He risked glancing up at the villain as he darted around him while his body was still in motion, trying to punch him.

The look on his face was terrifying in how it resembled All For One’s determined expression when they had begun this fight. The look of a parent determined to protect their child.

“You will not take my son from me!” All Smite shouted.

“He’s not your son, you delusional maniac!” Tomura yelled back.

That was apparently the wrong thing to say. All Smite’s eyes widened in rage, and this time he snatched Tomura by the front of his jacket. Tomura braced himself for the blow as he was thrown like a ragdoll into the chaos. He was ready for the hard impact of concrete, metal, and the feeling of broken ribs and bones.

What he didn’t expect was two hands to catch him, and embrace him around the middle, as if hugging him.

“Hush, Tenko, it’s okay,” Nana whispered.

That whisper. That voice.

”She and her family will find you, Tenko. They’ll find you, and they’ll poison your mind, and they’ll turn you into a villain.”

This woman, his grandmother, was here looking at him with such love it scared Tomura far more than the fight with En or All Smite ever could.

Never mind getting thrown into a building or punched until he was unconscious. This was the worst possible place to be.

“No!” he muttered as the monster of his nightmares gently lowered him onto the ground, only ten feet away from where All Smite had thrown him. “Get away from me! Go away!”

Nana smiled lovingly down at him as she ran a hand through his hair, smiling as if he were a little lost boy and she was his loving salvation.

“You’ve grown so much,” she murmured. “My sweet, brave, little Tenko. I thought that you died with everyone else. Even though I tried so hard to get my son and my precious grandchildren, I thought I had lost you. It was the only time I ever knew what All For One felt when we were brought into the family…”

“Mom! Get away from him!” All Smite shouted.

Nana ignored him, instead gently brushing her hand along Tomura’s face. Tomura jerked his face away, and her smile became sad. He scrambled back against a wall, but she only floated forward, closing the gap between them.

“It’s okay, Tenko. I know that he brainwashed you. I know that you never had any choice. Everything will be okay. Grandmother is here now. Your family is here now. We’ll keep you safe.”

Tomura did not want to deal with this. Not right now.

Izuku. His priority was Izuku. He had to get Izuku out of here, no matter what.

He turned to charge All Smite once more, only for Nana to place herself between him and his brother.

“No, don’t look at them, Tenko,” she encouraged. “Just look at me, sweetheart. It’s okay. We can fix this. I’m going to bring you home. We can-“

“SHUT UP!”

Tomura’s howl cut her off in the sheer feral rage behind it. Even she, a villain who had killed so many innocent people, seemed taken aback by the violence in his tone.

“It’s your fault!” he screamed. “It’s your fault they died! I don’t want you in my family. I want my brother back. I hate you!”

Somehow, she almost looked heartbroken by the declaration. As if she still had a heart that was capable of feeling anything after everything she had done. But Tomura didn’t care. She should feel pain after all that she had done.

She was the reason his father had been so paranoid. The reason his first family had been destroyed even before his quirk appeared. And now she was going to try to destroy his second family as well.

“Tenko, sweetie-“

She reached out with her hand— hands soaked with blood, dust beneath his fingers, he wanted it, he needed it–

Tomura’s hand latched onto her arm, and all five fingers touched her skin.

Nana screamed.

Tomura watched as her flesh decayed away beneath his touch, as fear and agony flickered across her face, as she looked down on the monster she had created. This was her legacy, this was her bloodline. The creature that had taken her “father” and caused destruction to all he touched.

“Tenko!” she pleaded, as the decay crept up her arm. “We’re family.”

“No you’re not!” he snarled. “None of you are but him. He’s my little brother. He’s my baby brother, and he’s all I have left!

He could kill her right now, as that decay moved up to her shoulder, her hand already crumbling into ash under his grip. It was right it was perfect it was bliss it was-

Nana screamed, All Smite bellowed with rage and Izuku-

Tomura froze as he met Izuku’s disoriented gaze. He wanted to be a hero who his brother could be proud of. Someone his little brother would trust and look up too. Someone worthy of his little brother’s admiration.

And if he killed her now… that would never happen.

If he kept going down this path… there would be no hope for him.

He thought of his mother, his real Dad, and the boy looking at him with glassy eyes. He loved them. He wanted to make them proud. And this was not the way to do it.

“I will not be a monster.”

He let go of Nana.

Instantly she collapsed to the ground, cradling the place where her arm used to be. But Tomura wasn’t watching her. His eyes were only on Izuku, who was still watching him through toxic green, disoriented eyes.

“Izu-“

Then All Smite’s fist struck him, and Tomura’s world became agony.

 


 

“I tried,” Hisashi said, voice cracking, “I tried so long and for so many years. I kept trying to pull you back from the edge, to be brothers again.”

“I’m not the one who sided with the government and became their happy little lap dog,” Yoichi spat bitterly.

“I was showing them we could live together in peace. I was becoming a hero,” Hisashi told him slowly.

“Really? Really? You think you’re a hero?” Yoichi laughed cruelly. “Oh, everyone will tell you you are. The great, shining All for One, here to save the day.”

“I always saw you as the villain,” Hisashi murmured, sounding lost. “I was always trying to get my brother back from you, because you were a villain, not my younger brother. But I know that’s not true now. You’re my brother, not a villain. Every awful thing you’ve done, it’s been my brother doing it.”

Yoichi turned to him in rage. “Of course, I’ve been the one doing all of this. I fought when you gave up. You played the part of their little servant so well. What about the people you had to turn a blind eye to so you could convince them all people could live together? What about all the metahumans you let suffer instead of saving because the government was watching you?”

“I’m sorry,” Hisashi said genuinely. He’d managed to make a world where people with powers were accepted, but he still regretted not being able to help more back then. “I was young and weighed the cost the only way I knew how to at the time.”

“What about Second? Turned on by everyone he ever knew, all because of a power he never asked for. What about Third? Tortured for amusement because he was homeless and had a power and made an easy target.” Yoichi was crying now, vicious tears thick with anger.

“I’m sorry, I made choices I wouldn’t make today.”

“You forgot us!” Yoichi accused. “You turned a blind eye, turned your back, turned away and let us suffer. You think all of us became villains? Most of the ones you abandoned drowned in the conflict. History blames us for being loud enough to be heard and praises you for barely even whispering dissent.”

“I know I hurt you. I know what I did was wrong,” Hisashi said because he needed to say all of this.

“YOU DON’T KNOW ME!” Yoichi could barely even see through his tears now. “YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT IT WAS LIKE TO WATCH THEM DIE BECAUSE YOU KEPT REFUSING TO LOOK!”

“You’ve been fighting for so long,” Hisashi realized. “You’ve been fighting for what I should have stood for, but now the fight is over. You won, just not your way. But now all you know how to do is fight.”

Yoichi wiped his tears away, once again gripping his knife harshly. “I know I’m a villain, but at least I’m not a coward. At least I’m not a pretender.”

“I spent years trying to help you, even when I said it was the last time. I was going to save you.”

“STOP TRYING TO BE A HERO! I never wanted you to save me, I just wanted you to fight with me. Why couldn’t you have just listened?” Yoichi laughed. “You never saw, never even tried to. You didn’t see the problems. You didn’t see the people who were hurting. You didn’t even see your own son while he was in pain! You never saw ME! What else was I supposed to do?”

“You are not a villain. You’re my brother,” Hisashi repeated. “I see you now, and I’m finally ready to stop you, little one. I won’t try to save you anymore. I’m looking at you.”

A tear slipped down Yoichi’s cheek. On his face was a smile, but it wasn’t a cruel one. It was the first truly happy smile he’d shown his brother in centuries. “It’s too late.”

A knife was raised between them.

All for One smiled back at his brother. “I know.”

A bomb rattled the nearby buildings, and the fragile peace existing between the two brothers shattered.

Yoichi’s arm blurred, and Hisashi tapped into Overclock, the quirk allowing him to dodge the glinting knife rocketing through the air. After that, there was no more need for words.

Hisashi trusted his team and the police officers gathered today. He knew, as well as they did, that this was their last chance to stop Yoichi and his family of villains and save Hisashi’s son. So, he didn’t bother turning his head to try and watch for the heroes, nor did he listen to the stream of information relayed through his headset.

At this moment, it was simply him and Yoichi.

The two clashed, Yoichi’s knives tearing through Hisashi’s quirk-strengthened arms, ripping through skin and flesh as muscle augmentation struggled to repair the torn fibers. But Hisashi paid the pain no mind as he sent a concentrated blast of air from his fists.

The force knocked Yoichi from his feet, but he smoothly tumbled into a crouched position, baring his teeth. “Always the same quirks, brother. After all these years, one would think you would be a bit more powerful. How pathetic is it that your quirkless brother can stand against you?”

Another volley of knives punctuated his words, followed by a mini grenade that detonated against the building wall, the force knocking Hisashi from the air.

“Quirkless isn’t pathetic, Yoichi.”

“Oh, I know that. But do you? Despite your apologies, your boy is mine now.”

Activating Multiplier, Hisashi’s arm tripled in size, the fabric of his hero suit tearing. He reared his arm back, “Izuku does not belong to you! He has a family who loves him!”

“He has us!”

A furious roar interrupted their words, echoing through the streets and rattling the building. It was the yell of the number one villain, All Smite. It was full of rage and bloodlust and left nerves tingling with the knowledge that someone was about to die.

And following it was a sound of absolute agony, the scream of All for One’s son.

Tomura!  

His body moved without thinking, leaping from the wrecked building and the police officers protecting civilians. He didn’t think. There was nothing to think except for a silent prayer of please, please, not another child.

But as he crashed to a stop, he knew in an instant he was too late.

Chapter 36: Ascension

Summary:

Sides are chosen, and Izuku rises...

Notes:

Hey guys! Sorry for the late posting, we've all been pretty busy this week! Also, because of that but When The Angels Fall is going to miss an update this week, but everything else should be back to normal next week. Hope you guys enjoy!

Chapter Text

Hisashi’s world was moving in slow motion. Even though he was moving faster than a speeding bullet, thanks to his quirks, he felt like he was moving through thick sap. Like every move was too slow, there was too much resistance, and every horrible second was being crystalized in his memory.

Tomura, please hold on. I’m coming. Dad’s coming. Please, Tomura, just hold on!

And then he found the scene, and that world came to a crashing halt.

All Smite was standing over the body of his boy— his first boy, his precious boy, the child who had saved him— with Nana Shimura watching with a sad smile. Izuku was only five feet away, his eyes glazed over and glowing a poisonous green as he watched the scene play out before him with a disinterest that was so unlike the boy Hisashi knew and loved.

And Tomura… Tomura was…

“NO!”

Before Hisashi could even lunge towards his son—his son, his boy, please no!—Yoichi’s hand clamped down on his shoulder and held him in place.

“Look at him, Hisashi!” Yoichi snarled. “Look at that fallen hero. You think he would be here if you had not intervened in his life? You tried to save him, and look where it’s gotten him. It would have been better if you abandoned him when Kotaro and the others died! At least he wouldn’t be here because of you.”

No. No, that couldn’t be true. Tomura wanted to be a hero. He wanted to… to…

”All I’ve ever wanted to do was be like you and make you proud.”

No, that couldn’t—he never—he had tried to—

“A Hero who protects those who can’t protect themselves?” Yoichi sneered. “What a joke! You couldn’t even protect your own children. Did you seriously think you were making the world better by helping one person? Don’t you realize when you help one person, you ignore another? That you were ignoring me the entire time?”

Hisashi stared in horror, somehow unable to move as he stared at the fallen body of his son—nonothissonnotTomurapleasehelpanybodyhelp—frozen in this one second of time as the overwhelming grief inside exploded and held him down.

“Let me go,” he pleaded. “Let me go, Yoichi.”

Yoichi couldn’t help but laugh. His brother had been ready to murder him only a moment before, and now he was begging to be free. Just one small death and he had torn his brother down.

“Do you think that pretty little wife of yours will forgive you now?” Yoichi asked, mercilessly twisting the knife. “You’ve asked her to endure so much, and now you failed to bring back her sons! Do you think she’ll forgive you when you are the reason both are gone?”

Inko—what was he going to tell her—how could he—what could he—Tomura, no. No, please…

Hisashi collapsed to his knees, tears running down his face. Yoichi wrapped an arm around him and gently turned him against his leg in a gesture of comfort. Or conquest. He smiled benevolently at his brother as he watched the cracks appear and grow.

It wouldn’t be long now. His brother would shatter. He had been cracking and falling apart with every death, every bomb, every stab wound, every bullet, every stolen child. For years, he had been breaking down his brother, and soon the fruits of Yoichi’s labors would be seen.

He would realize that they are the same. That Yoichi made them the same. That his little brother loved his older brother so much that he would turn the world off-center just so that Hisashi could be where he was always meant to be: right at Yoichi’s side.

He would be falling, and Yoichi would be the one to catch him. And after that, he would never let Hisashi leave him again.

Hisashi could only somewhat register that most of Nana’s right arm was gone, and all that was left was a bloody stump. Despite her visible pain and the growing shock from the blood loss, she was somehow oriented to her surroundings and moved to Tomura. She kissed the bloody, broken body with a sad smile before giving All Smite a small nod.

All Smite raised his fist one more time, and Hisashi realized he was about to deliver the final blow.

No!

 


 

Tomura wasn’t sure what was happening.

First, there had been white hot, blinding pain that had consumed his entire being. And now… now he was lying down. Or was he floating? He couldn’t tell. He could feel something warm and wet all around him. Maybe he was floating in water. It would also explain why everything was so bright.

Or was it dark? It hurt to open his eyes. But there was definitely light somewhere. He was in pain, and yet he was numb. He was sleeping and yet somehow still awake.

Somehow floating in this state of in between, neither alive nor dead, just waiting for the coin in the air to land.

Heads or tails? Heads you win, tails I lose. That is how his life had always been until Dad. Until Mom. Until Izuku.

Someone was calling his name.

Was it Izuku?

No... Mom?

No... Hana?

He tried to reach out to the voice, but his arms weren’t responding. If he could find his eyes, he would cry tears, but instead, he just floated in this bright darkness, the remnants of a smile on his face.

“I just… wanted… to make you proud…”

A pair of lips kissed him. A kiss goodbye.

“Grandmother loves you, Tenko.”

That voice… It was her… it was the woman he feared for so long…

Which meant that Tomura was about to…

Mom, Dad, Izuku… I’m so sorry I failed you. I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough. I guess… I’ll see you on the other side.

A shadow fell across him, and he braced himself for the death that was knocking at his door.

 


 

Izuku stared at the scene before him, unable to move yet unable to look away.

Part of him was screaming, cheering on Dad as he avenged En and Grandma Nana and relishing the thrill of seeing blood stain the ground over the so-called Hero. So unlike the detective, who had died without so much as a blood drop of blood. This was far more interesting and exciting to see.

He should join. He should help Dad. He should help avenge En since was the reason En was dead. He should stand by his family.

But for the most part, Izuku could only watch with glassy eyes, staring unseeingly at the scene before him. And knowing somewhere in the fog that surrounded his brain that bodies weren’t supposed to bend and break like that. That there shouldn’t be too much blood like that. That a human face should not be that distorted, as Dad lay blow after blow upon the man who had hurt Grandma Nana and killed En.

His ears were still ringing from the last explosion, and he felt so tired. He felt like he should just give into the growing exhaustion that clung to his bones, promising sweet release. All he had to do was close his eyes and surrender to the voice that had been with him since the night Dabi died.

Just let go. Just fall into your family’s arms. Let them care for you. Let them love you. Protect your family. Stay with your family. Love your family.

He closed his eyes, and in his mind, he was back in the Vault with En, who was watching his grandson avenge him with ruthless fury. Izuku was sitting on the ninth throne, his hand shackled in the golden chain and the crown on his head.

Yes, this was right. This was where he belonged. This was home.

But the man Dad was hurting… he was the one who hugged Izuku when he was scared.

Who held onto him, promising it would be okay. He was the one who made Izuku feel safe after so many days of being afraid.

He had been… home… he had been family… so why was Izuku just watching?

The Hero’s name slipped past his lips, and he involuntarily reached out to him. As if in response, breath seemed to refill the Hero’s body, and a rasped whisper escaped his mouth.

“Just… wanted… to make you… proud…”

And Izuku was.

He was proud of Tomura.

He didn’t know why but—

No, proud wasn’t the right word.

Proud wasn’t the feeling of Tomura holding him, promising he would be okay. Proud wasn’t playing video games with Tomura or training on the beach as Tomura encouraged him to pursue his dream of becoming a hero. Proud wasn’t his mother’s hugs, his father’s encouragements, or his brother’s smiles.

It wasn’t pride… it was something else.

Protect your family. Love your family.

The words echoed in Izuku’s brain like a commandment, and yet they were no longer oppressive as they had once felt. No longer did it feel like they were consuming him. Something was different. Something about those words felt right in a way Izuku could not describe.

Stay with your family. Love your family.

He was standing up from the throne, watching as Nana kissed Tomura’s bloody face and nodded to Dad.

Protect your family. Love your family.

That voice… no longer sounded foreign. It was Izuku’s own voice now.

En was shouting, frantically tugging on the interconnected chains to pull back Izuku. Trying to take control of him, just as One For All had controlled all of them. But Izuku continued to move, and his will was stronger than the Quirk. An unknown strength came from his arm, filling him down to his toes, and En, Banjo, Yoichi, Second, all of them were yanked to Izuku, stumbling and eyes wide with fear as the crown slipped from Izuku’s head.

All Smite’s fist was flying to Tomura.

Protect your family. Love your family.

That was exactly what he intended to do.

One For All answered his summons, surging through him. And somehow, he stood between All Smite and his brother. And he was free.

All Smite’s blue eyes widened with shock as Izuku’s fist collided with his own.

SMASH!

The impact rattled through streets, air pressure flipping cars and throwing debris, but Izuku managed to stand firm even as the power behind his punch rebounded through his arm, shattering it into hundreds of pieces.

When the dust cleared, Izuku stood panting, fist pressed against All Smite's fist, Izuku's brother Tomura bloody and limp at their feet.

All Smite's mouth gaped open, his eyes widening so that his bright blue pupils were practically invisible. "My- my boy?" He whispered, seemingly lost. His gaze flickered from Izuku's purpling arm to Tomura's smashed-in face and Nana cradling her bloody stump. "I- my boy, what are you…." his words trailed off as if he couldn't verbalize the shock he felt.

However, Yoichi seemed to have no such problems. He glided over; his face folded into perfect pleasantness. He smiled gently at Izuku. "Little fighter, stand down now. Your father is simply dealing with trash. It's none of your business."

The deceptively soft words rippled through Izuku, and he shuddered, feeling the chain on his wrist tighten and the dark void creeping back over him.

Protect your family. Love your family.

"Listen to your family, Izuku. We're here for you. It's as we've said," and here, All Smite's spare hand rested upon Izuku's shoulder. "You are safe. You are loved. You are home."

However, for once, the words didn't fill Izuku with dread or disgust or guilt. A sense of peace spread across him as he reflected on the message. And for the first time since En's death, Izuku genuinely smiled.

"You're right, uncle," Izuku said. "I am safe, and I am loved, and I am home." But as Yoichi began to smile triumphantly, Izuku cut him off. "But my home is not with you. It's with them." He pointed towards his father and his brother. "They are my home! They are my family!"

All Smite's face crumpled while Yoichi's darkened. "I think you're confused, little fighter-"

"MY NAME!" Izuku yelled. "IS NOT LITTLE FIGHTER OR BOY OR SON! IT IS MIDORIYA IZUKU!" He called upon One for All, dragging the clasped chains along with him and taking their power as his own. Green lightning flashed across his skin, and a rush of power surged throughout his body. "AND I PROTECT MY FAMILY!"

"TOSHINORI! STOP HIM!" Yoichi yelled.

All Smite lunged for Izuku, but Izuku released his built-up punch, smashing it into All Smite's sternum. The villain gagged in pain as the impact launched him backward, slamming into one of the nearby buildings.

Nana stumbled back in horror, tears trickling down her face, but Yoichi had no reservations. "How DARE you!" Yoichi snarled.

His face twisted in a fury, he launched forward, his fist curled around a glinting knife.

Protect your family, One for All screamed. Don't let him hurt Tomura.

It didn't matter that both arms were broken and that the skin was mottled purple and black. Izuku was tired of running and failing to do what mattered most. Pain or not. It didn't matter. He wouldn't let them down.

But even as he shifted his stance, rearing back for another punch, a blast of air knocked Yoichi to the ground.

"Little brother, I think you've done enough today." Tears poured down Izuku's face as his father— his real father, that was his father, his family, floated up into the air.

Yoichi snarled in anger, but even in his rage, he was trying to hurt Hisashi in the worst ways possible. He lunged for Tomura with a yell, his knife at the ready, only to find Izuku standing in the way.

“I won’t let you touch my family!” Izuku shouted.

Even with both of his arms destroyed, Hisashi could see the determination shining from his son like a star. The absolute certainty that no matter what the villains said or did, they would not harm Tomura anymore. Hisashi couldn’t help but smile proudly as Izuku’s eyes did not glow with a poisonous green light, but a warm, verdant green. He could sense how One For All was already changing, yielding, and shaping to Izuku’s will instead of Izuku succumbing to the quirk.

“You are ours, Izuku!” Yoichi shouted. “Listen to your family! You belong to us. I will not lose you to these Heroes!”

“Lose me?” Izuku repeated. “You never had me, Uncle. I am the son of Inko and Hisashi Midoriya, the brother of Tomura. I am not your little fighter. I belong to me!”

Izuku’s will was unbreakable, and not even the quirk that had enslaved too many would shatter him.

“Yoichi,” Hisashi called, drawing his brother’s attention away. “You criticized me for not giving him a quirk. But the truth is that Izuku never needed one.”

He turned to his son and removed his mask. He wanted Izuku to see his proud smile and know that Hisashi spoke the truth.

“My son is far stronger than any quirk. And if you need any proof, look at him now. He has broken free of you and One For All’s influence. Izuku is already a Hero, and you and I both know it.”

Tears stung Izuku’s eyes at Hisashi’s words. His father’s words from Hosu suddenly became clear. He refused to give him a quirk because he didn’t think Izuku needed one. He thought Izuku was strong enough already. He loved Izuku as he was and believed in him even before he was taken.

He believed Izuku had already reached his dream of becoming a Hero.

Yoichi’s jaw dropped ever so slightly, and his attention was so focused on his brother that he didn’t see Compress approaching until it was too late.

“Grandpa!” Nana shrieked, but she was silenced as Compress slammed both of his hands down on Tomura and the other on Nana.

Both were instantly crystalized into two marbles, one to keep Tomura in stasis, the other to capture the villain.

Yoichi whirled around and threw his knife at Compress without hesitation. The man gasped in pain as the knife lodged in his chest but threw the two marbles with all his might.

The form melted into clay as a lizard-like man scaling the walls leaped down and caught them. He landed on his feet and took off sprinting to where emergency medical services were waiting, intent on delivering his friend to safety.

“We got him, boss!” Spinner called to Hisashi. “Take care of Izuku!”

“This way, kid! Run on your own, loser! ”  Twice shouted, grabbing Izuku around the middle and running after Spinner like a football player.

Both Heroes were scooped up by two thick, fluffy clouds, and Izuku reached through the quirk and called on the part he knew belonged to En. He would protect his family.

Smokescreen surrounded all of them as Loud Cloud carried them to safety. A roar echoed through the streets as the area shook, a heavy figure frantically leaping and running through the fog Izuku had created.

“MY BOY?! Izuku, where are you? Answer me, Izuku!”

Izuku felt a tug on his mind as if All Smite was frantically trying to take back control. Trying to take him back to the embraces, the nicknames, the vault, the handcuffs, the death.

And Izuku was not going back. He was never going back.

“I am not your boy! I am Izuku Midoriya!”

And he was going home. 

Chapter 37: The End

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Yoichi howled as he watched yet another of his family fall to Hisashi and his heroes. His mind was racing, even as he drew another knife.
 
Nana was captured. Izuku was taking control of One For All and taken by the Heroes. Toshinori was injured and searching for his son. Yoichi couldn’t go after Izuku, he didn’t dare turn his back on his brother, but it was becoming clearer and clearer that Yoichi was running out of cards to play.
 
He was waiting for another bomb to go off, someone to report a violent injury, a sniper’s bullet to fire, black tendrils to lift him to safety. But nothing happened.
 
Yoichi’s family was gone. All the years he had spent, the centuries devoted to building a family that could withstand anyone and tear down his brother and the heroes from their pedestals… they weren’t here any longer.
 
Yoichi’s family was his, but now even they were gone.
 
Hisashi was watching him, and his brother’s eyes, which should have been afraid or angry or hurt or broken, were full of pity. Only minutes ago, Yoichi had been on the edge of victory. His brother had been ready to shatter, and Yoichi would have gathered the pieces and repaired him until Hisashi was at his side as any loyal brother should be.
 
But now he looked at Yoichi with pity.
 
Not the pity of seeing someone twisted into a villain. Not compassion of wanting to “fix” his little brother. But the pity of seeing someone and knowing they were absolutely alone.
 
No, no, it wasn’t supposed to be this way! It was supposed to be Hisashi!
 
Hisashi was supposed to realize he was alone and that Yoichi was all he had and would ever need. How did everything spiral out of control so fast when Yoichi had been so close to the end?
 
“Don’t look at me like that!” he yelled, swiping his knife at Hisashi. Hisashi caught his arm, and Yoichi twisted out.
 
“Stop, little brother.”

“I won’t stop!” Yoichi swore. “I’ll never stop. I’ll get my family back and strip yours away piece by piece. Your precious friends! Sandman, your pretty little wife. I’ll make sure they die in agony, cursing your name, while Toshinori takes back his son. I won’t stop, no matter how much you seem to have won!”
 
He lunged again and again.
 
Hisashi dodged him, tears in his eyes as he realized what he would have to do.
 
“I WON’T STOP!”
 
“I know.”

 



 
All For One emerged from the smoke screen to the base, cradling someone in his arms. Medics rushed forward to him, thinking it was an injured civilian, but he brushed them aside as he laid the body down in an empty space.
 
Tears ran down his cheek as he brushed white hair from the man’s eyes. Dead, green eyes stared unseeingly at the sky before All For One brushed them closed.
 
“Goodbye, Yoichi. I’ll always love you.”

 



Tomura and Izuku were raced to the hospital and immediately given pain medications that made Izuku sleepy while they treated his arms. When he finally came too, he was in a warm room with flowers all around him, and a quilt from… from his old room stretched over his bed.
 
He looked up to see across from him, in a similar bed with his own comforter stretched over him, was Tomura. He was covered in tubes with large, thick bandages over his left side, and he had a nasal cannula in his nose to help him breathe. His eyes were opening sleepily.
 
Green eyes met red.
 
“Izu?”
 
“T-Tomura?”
 
All thoughts of sleep and confusion were gone as Izuku sat up, ignoring the two large casts over his arm. But even as he sat up, someone burst through the door.
 
Someone with green hair and eyes, who was panting like she had run a mile, eyes wide, clothes wrinkled, and dark circles that said she hadn’t slept right in ages. But as soon as she saw Tomura and Izuku before her, those eyes lit up. And she smiled.
 
Izuku hadn’t realized how much he missed her smile.

“MOM!”
 
“IZUKU!”
 
Inko sprinted towards her son and held him tight. Without thinking, he wrapped his casted arms around her, ignoring the tug of the IV lines on his body and the slight pain shooting through his arms as he hugged her. It didn’t matter. None of that mattered.
 
At this moment, everything else had ceased to matter. Mom was here. She was here, she was holding him, and he felt safe.
 
He was finally safe.
 
“My baby,” Mom whispered. “Izuku. Izuku, I’m so relieved. So glad you’re alive. I’m so glad you’re safe.”
 
“Mom!” he sobbed, melting in her embrace. “Mommy, I missed you.”
 
“I missed you too, Izuku,” Mom answered, raining kisses on him and running her fingers through his hair. “It felt like forever.”
 
“Mom?”
 
Tomura’s groggy voice was raspy and scratchy, but Inko didn’t care. She yanked on Tomura’s bed, rolling the bed closer to her, and took both of her sons in her arms. The door opened, and a familiar man with white hair and red eyes appeared in the doorway.
 
“DAD!”
 
Hisashi broke into a huge grin, a weight lifted off his shoulders as he dashed forward and took his family into his arms.
 
They had gotten him out. They had taken him out of that hellhole and brought him home They had fought and defeated the villains. They had freed him. Izuku was safe.
 
Almost immediately, Izuku felt a great burden lift off of his shoulders. It was over. It was finally over. He was home with his Mom, his Dad, and his brother.
 
It was over.
 
Tears of relief ran down his face as he curled into his family’s. After the hell he endured, he did not want them to let go. He was safe, and he was free.
 
“Thank you,” he half-sobbed, half-whispered. “Thank you.”
 
“We’ll always come for you, Izuku,” Dad promised. “Always. The others won’t hurt you again. We’ll figure out what to do next.”

What to do next… he had never thought about that. He was sure he’d never get away from them. But here he was, being held by his parents and his brother, free from the Vault and from his chains.
 
The future wasn’t just looking bright. He could actually see it again. He could breathe again.
 
He was safe. He was loved. He was home.

Notes:

Holy goodness! Thanks, everyone for sticking around for this wild ride! It was a delight sharing it with you!

At some point, we're considering adding more to this story as part of a series to wrap some things up. OR even writing an alternative ending where the OFA family wins. If you're interested in any of this, let us know.

Thank you for every comment and kudos, we really appreciate it :)

Series this work belongs to: