Chapter Text
When Izuku is born, he's small.
Smaller than normal, in fact. He was born a whole month early and is so, so small in Inko's arms that she sobs with open relief when he finally gurgles at her two weeks after he gets taken out of intensive care. Hisashi smiles at both of them, smoke escaping his mouth as he chuckles. He waves it away with his free hand. One of his pinkies is caught in both of Izuku’s little hands, holding the digit as tight as he can manage at four weeks old. Izuku already has a tuft of green and black hair that curls like his own, a few freckles, and large green eyes that water when Inko cries. Hisashi takes Izuku from Inko so that she can wipe at her eyes and avoid a crying baby.
He’s slightly thankful Izuku doesn’t seem to have horns like he does, or if he does, they haven’t grown in yet. Baby proofing the house is already hard without the baby being a baby hazard too.
Things had been pretty touch and go for awhile right after Izuku was born, but they all managed to pull through.
When they bring Izuku home everything feels right with the world. Their little family had gained a new member and Izuku seemed to make everything feel brighter.
When he’s about two months old, he’s already got a full head of little curls and so many freckles that Hisashi jokingly takes to calling him Junior. Izuku coos and sucks on his thumb, watching Hisashi closely whenever he lays on the floor with him. The baby gives Hisashi his first, gummy smile with a small gurgle.
Hisashi’s heart swells with adoration as his eyes water with pride. He melts, heart bursting with love and affection.
“Inkooo…” He draws out quietly, as Izuku takes his thumb out and offers it to Hisashi. He’s still smiling when Inko pops her head around the corner. Hisashi looks up at her, hiding his own big smile behind his knuckles.
“Yeaaaah…? Oh!” Inko sees Izuku and she makes her way over to her boys. Halfway there she gets on her hands and knees to crawl the rest of the way there. With a little grin of her own, she pokes Izuku’s nose gently, causing him to make a joyful, high pitched sound. “Hi there! Is someone happy?”
Izuku stares, his wet hand reaching for Inko while the other goes to his mouth. He gurgles around his hand, again.
“I think he’s a mama's boy,” Hisashi sniffles teasingly. “He likes you best.”
Inko shoots Hisashi a sweet smile. “Oh hush, he loves us both a lot. Don’t you, baby?”
She sweeps Izuku up into her arms and showers his face with kisses. Izuku smiles once more, eyes crinkling as he brings a hand to his eyes. She kisses his hand too, not seeming to mind the baby slobber.
Months pass by blissfully and suddenly Izuku is six months old, scooting around on the floor, babbling a mile a minute. Hisashi feels like it passed in the blink of an eye.
Far too soon for his liking.
Anytime Inko or Hisashi calls his name, Izuku will jolt as if startled before turning to face them with big, curious eyes. He copies whatever face they make at him and then giggles a second later.
The Midoriya house is happy and content with their newfound balance with each other.
Everything is wonderful until a few months later.
Sometime when Izuku is learning to properly crawl and say ‘bababa’ and ‘mamama’ Hishashi starts to choke on smoke.
Wheezing and coughing, he stands in order to put some distance between the smoke he’s making and Izuku’s already frail lungs. He can see Izuku crawling to him, worried whines almost drowned out by his coughing. Inko is out, probably almost home from getting groceries, but the boys are alone for now. His throat is tight and he can’t breathe. His lungs feel like they're being squeezed and everything feels hot. He falls to his knees, unable to stay standing. Oh no, am I breathing fire? Izuku! Where's Izuku?
“Hisashi!” Two cool hands cup his face even as he weakly tries to direct his smoke and coughs away. He cracks his eyes open enough to see Inko through the haze of his smoke.
“Izu-” Hisashi starts only to have it dissolve into more coughing.
Inko grabs him by the horns to keep his eyes on her after batting away some of the smoke. “He’s okay, he’s with the neighbors… They’re calling you an ambulance. Everything’s okay Hisashi, I need you to stay calm before your quirk spirals out of control.”
Nodding slowly, Hisashi tries to focus on his wife. He presses one of his hands against her clammy cheeks. The smoke coming from his coughing is hot, too hot for Inko. Inko isn’t fireproof like you are, move move move-
He blacks out.
Hisashi wakes up in the hospital, Izuku curled up in his arms and fast asleep and unharmed. Hisashi trails his fingers over his aching throat, to find bandages there. Inko is in a chair next to the bed, hiding her face in her hands.
She looks pale when she lifts her head, and there's a bit of gauze around her fingers.
Moving so that he’s supporting Izuku against his chest with one arm, he reaches out and draws circles on Inko’s arm. Inko looks at him, green eyes looking tired and watery. Neither of them says anything for a long time.
“The doctors gave you a CT scan to check your lungs,” Inko breaks the silence with a whisper. She swallows thickly, leaning into his hand. “They’re looking at the results to make sure your quirk didn’t do any more damage to your lungs than give you asthma.”
“Ok…” Hisashi gives her a weak smile. Izuku stirs against his chest but doesn’t wake up. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
Hisashi ends up being diagnosed with stage two lung cancer.
There's a flame inside of Izuku's heart.
It warms his fingers and toes, reaching and enveloping his whole body like a blanket. He loves his little fire so much because his mother will often pull him close and press her cold nose against his cheek until he giggles and squirms in her arms. His little fire reminds his mother of his father.
She tells him as much during the late nights he struggles to stay sleeping. Together they curl up on the couch or in her bed as she rocks him in her lap. Fond and in love, his mother tells him stories about his father and how she sees him in Izuku. He's three years old, and the little flame inside of him burns so brilliantly, he feels like a lit candle in a dark room.
Full of hope and unrelenting to any outside darkness.
“Mama,” he whispers on such a night when neither of them can sleep. Izuku’s crawled into bed with her, waking her on accident. He doesn’t feel apologetic though, because she sweeps him into her arms so that he’s laying on top of her, his ear resting over her heart. She sways back in forth a little, hiding her face in his hair.
His mother doesn't cease the gentle rocking motions, nor does she say anything. Inko simply hums in response, letting a sigh out and into his unruly curls. It’s just the two of them, just as it’s always been as far as Izuku can remember. Which makes him wonder-
“Where's dad?”
“Your father works overseas,” her voice is soft and reassuring. “He'll be back in time for your fourth birthday though! He can't wait to see you again!”
Filled with awe and so much love to give it hurts, he shifts so that he’s able to look up at his mother. “Really?”
Inko raises her face and moves both of them so that they’re laying chest to chest.
She smiles as she readjusts the blankets in her bed to cover them both better. Izuku finds himself staring at the old and faded burn scars on her fingers and palms. “Really.”
Three weeks before Izuku's birthday, Izuku is digging his stubby fingers into some clay outside, molding it and warming it with his hands until it starts to keep its shape. He's working on a cat for his dad and trying his best despite the fact that it looks more like a horse. Izuku has never been very good with clay, but there are several glass trinkets around the house from when his father took a glass smithing class a few years before he was born.
He runs his fingers over the warm clay as he smooths it out to the best of his ability. It still doesn’t look like a cat, but he’s really really trying his best!
The patio door that leads to the backyard slams open with a force he’s never seen from his gentle mother. Does that mean Kacchan is over?
He glances up and sees that it isn’t his boisterous best friend, but in fact, his mother.
“Izu, come inside, please. I need to tell you something important.” Slowly he lifts himself up from where he's hunched over the cat for his dad. He nods, bringing in the cat in progress in order to work on it while they talk.
He wants to get it perfect before his dad comes next week.
She sees it the second he trots up the wood steps. His shirt and hands are covered in clay.
“What’re you making, green bean?” She gives him a wobbly smile as she kneels down to his level and cups his hands in hers.
“I'm making dad a cat. You said he likes cats!” Izuku moves his hands just enough to show the cat figurine off.
His mother doesn't say anything. When he looks up at her, he sees her lip quivering. She cries quietly as her hands move from his own tiny hands to his cheeks. The places her hands were burned a while ago feel different than the rest of her hand, but familiar all the same.
“Sweetie your dad isn't able to come home.”
Izuku's heart stutters, and with it so does the fire inside it. “Oh…”
Inko sees where Izuku's train of thought is taking him and immediately slams the brakes before it can derail.
“I'm sure he wanted to come home, sweetie but there was… Izuku your father…” There's a moment of silence before Inko finishes. “Izuku your father loved you so much.”
There had been a crash.
Izuku vaguely recalls packages from Germany and different parts of Europe coming in over the last couple of years. He thinks about the way his mother would smile into her hand as she read the letter that came with it. He also thinks about the way she would stay on the phone for hours at a time, smiling like she was the happiest person alive. The image of his mother holding a much smaller him, next to a tall and gangly man with black curls and freckles, flashes in the forefront of his mind for a second. She was smiling so much, she looked content with both Izuku and his dad by her side. Izuku thinks about how all of that is never going to happen again now that his dad is gone.
The mental image of that photo burns.
He thinks he hates his dad for leaving his mother, but he keeps that to himself. Izuku hopes and he prays and he wishes to get a quirk like his mother’s, even though he can feel his little flame flicker inside his chest when he does.
Izuku is in daycare, on his fourth birthday, when he runs into a tree during playtime. He coughs and smoke spills out of his lips. The poor tree he ran into catches on fire from some of the embers that come out with the smoke. Izuku sobs into his hands while Katsuki runs to get a teacher.
He doesn’t stop, hiccuping and wailing, even as his mother scoops him into her arms and rakes a hand through his curls to try and soothe him, half an hour later. He feels her take a deep breath as she signs him out in the front of the daycare. Katsuki watches from the doorway of the classroom, red eyes narrowed in his special brand of angry concern and his fingers curled around the metal doorframe. Izuku can’t bring himself to look at his friend.
He sniffles when she opens the driver’s door of the car and just sits there with him. They don’t move for a long time. It isn’t until Izuku stops crying, pulling back from her chest and looking up with pink, tear-stained cheeks whispering a pained litany of, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”
Inko holds his cheeks in both of her hands and she gives her son, her whole world, a kiss on his nose, then his cheeks, his forehead, and eventually his whole face is warm with kisses. His lackaday expression slowly melts and turns sheepish. She coos at him, rubbing her thumbs over the apples of his cheeks.
“Izuku, sweetie, no one expects you to know how to control your quirk yet.”
Izuku bites his lip and shakes his head slowly. “That’s not why…”
He stops himself, unsure of how he should say what he’s thinking.
Izuku watches his mother’s soft expression twist into something more confused. “What?”
“I don’t want it! It hurts, it hurts, it hurts mama and makes her sad!” He’s crying again even though he hasn’t really stopped. Izuku is unable to help himself. He covers his face with his hands as he starts hiccuping again. Smoke clogs his throat, causing him to cough into his elbow in an attempt to keep it away from his mother. Inko panics, guiding him by the shoulders to help clear a path for the smoke. Embers flicker in the smoke he coughs out.
Inko is rubbing small circles on his back, gently but firmly patting his back to help clear his lungs. When his coughing fit passes without anything catching fire, Inko sighs in relief.
“Your quirk hurts you?” She asks. “Where does it hurt? Your throat? What about-”
“It hurts you, mama. I don't wanna make you cry like dad did.” Izuku cuts her off because he can't stress this enough. “I don't like having his quirk.”
Inko's hold on him tightens as she finds herself at a loss for words. How does one explain this sort of thing to a four-year-old?
“Izuku,” she starts with a very small and hurt voice. “Izuku, sweetheart, I don’t understand.”
Izuku frowns at her, then looks down. “I don’t want it.”
Sometime just after his fifth birthday, Izuku starts complaining about a headache. “Mama, my head hurts…”
Inko puts the dish towel down on the counter. Brow furrowed, she kneels in front of him and gently moves his head around. Hopefully, it isn’t anything serious; Mitsuki and Katsuki were on their way over for dinner before Katsuki spends the night. “Did you hit it or did it just start hurting?”
“I woke up from my nap and the spot above my ears started hurting!” Izuku points to both of his temples, hidden behind his messy curls.
Biting her lip, Inko brushes his curls back enough to see-
“Oh…” she sighs out softly.
“What?” Izuku looks up at her, and that’s when she notices Izuku’s eyes are dilated like a lizard’s. His irises have taken on the same qualities of one too. Inko squints at his nose and finds that sees that some of his freckles have been covered by a small patch of rough and pale green skin. Scales. Horns like his dad, and scales.
“I think your quirk has evolved,” she smiles at him.
Izuku’s face twists in disgust, his nose crinkles before his eyes widen. The pupils turn into thin slits as his fingers brush over the scales on his nose. Wisps of smoke come out of his mouth, as he huffs. He brings his right hand up to the temple Inko isn’t looking at, prodding at the bump of a horn that’s starting to grow there. It isn’t sharp, in fact it’s hardly noticeable, but Izuku still recoils as if pricked by something sharp.
He starts to grit his teeth, letting Inko see how they’ve sharpened a little.
Tears build up in Izuku’s eyes, as his hands go to cover his ears, which seem to have grown pointed at the tips as well. He lets out a frustrated whine.
“Izuku, what’s the matter?”
Izuku takes a few steps back, an angry scowl on his face even as he starts crying. “I hate it.”
“What?” Inko pulls her hands away. She thinks of the time when Izuku’s quirk came in last year, and the quirk counselor's airy, ‘Oh, he’s fine. He’ll get over it one day, it’s just a little rough right now because of the loss of your husband.'
Inko had stopped taking him after that, the man was full of it, and here were the consequences of that. She has a five-year-old with a quirk he hates and no real way to help him by herself. Anytime she had tried in the past were promptly forgotten anytime he’d get a panic attack.
Especially one quirk related.
Izuku is shaking, sniffing as he tries to control the smoke coming out of his lungs. “I hate it.”
His voice is filled with a venom that she didn’t know her usually quiet and sweet son could have. Inko drops her hand to her lap as Izuku backs away, curling in on himself a bit.
“Izuku-”
“I hate it! I hate his dumb quirk and I hate him!” Izuku shouts, covering his ears and backing away from her even more. He keeps away in case he breathes fire instead of embers this time. “I don’t want it, I never wanted his quirk! And I’ll be a hero without it!”
Inko recoils as if she was burnt, which makes Izuku flinch and crumple into himself even more. The doorbell rings, so slowly she stands. She doesn’t move to answer the door though.
“Why do you feel like that?” She sounds hurt and small like when she told him what happened to his father. Izuku doesn’t like it.
Izuku doesn’t look up at her. The doorbell rings again, this time followed by a harsh knock. They both ignore it.
“Izuku please tell me what’s the matter,” Inko takes a step closer to him, but startles when the front door opens loudly.
“Inko what the hell?” Mitsuki calls out, causing Inko to wince and look to where the Bakugou duo were waiting in the front room. Behind her a door slams, and she whips around to see Izuku’s All Might nameplate rattling on his door.
“Izuku!” She calls out, sounding desperate. She makes to go after him but stops, sighs a little and walks to the front of the house to see Mitsuki helping Katsuki out of his rain boots.
Katsuki looks up to her, red eyes crinkled in confusion and concern. “What’s Deku bein’ dumb ‘bout Auntie Inko?”
Inko’s gaze flicks to the direction of Izuku’s room. She places a hand against her cheek and bites her lip, unable to answer. “Well…”
Mitsuki frowns at her, ruffling her son’s hair without looking at him. “Katsuki go play with Izuchan in his room.”
Katsuki looks between the two ladies before giving a single, jerky nod. He scampers off to Izuku’s room. Inko lets out a strangled noise when she hears the blonde slam the door open with a loud, “ Dumb Deku, you made auntie cry! ”
“Inko sweetie, what’s the matter?” Mitsuki kicks her shoes off and gently pulls Inko into the kitchen. She’s being sat down before she can protest, a kettle of water already set to boil. Mitsuki places her hands on Inko’s shoulders and gives her a gentle massage.
“Izuku doesn’t like his quirk.”
Mitsuki’s hands pause for a moment before she continues. She sounds confused, but still holds her soft tone when she asks, “Still?”
“He says he hates Hisashi, Mitsuki… I knew he was struggling to adjust to having a quirk like him but he yelled at me! He yelled that he hates his quirk and that he-he… he hates Hisashi…” Inko hides her face in her hands. Her eyes are burning. “Am I doing something wrong?”
“No, no… Inky, look. Parenting is hard enough with both parents around. All Izuku knows is you.” Mitsuki soothes. “Hisashi’s death was something hard on you because you knew him more than Izuku did. Telling him stories about his dad doesn’t exactly make him give a damn when he doesn’t remember him.”
The kettle begins to whistle, so Mitsuki leaves to make up the tea. She works in silence, letting her words sink. Inko watches from in between her fingers as her blonde friend stirs the tea quickly; aggressive but efficient. When she’s done, she sets the cup in front of Inko and goes back to giving her a message.
“I know it’s been hard, but you’re so strong Inko. You’re doing so well with him, he just needs a little help coming to terms with everything. Even if he wasn’t five he would be taking it wrong.”
Inko cries into her tea.
Mitsuki leaves for a moment, ducking into the living room. She comes back with Hisashi’s old laptop. “Here, let’s look for a better quirk councilor together.”
Katsuki bursts into the room, startling Izuku. He falls off his bed with a hiss as his head bumps into the side of the mattress. His nubby little horn gives him a headache as it drags along the bed.
The blonde boy yells something, but Izuku isn’t listening. He glares at Katsuki, smoke escaping his snarling mouth. He watches Katsuki pause, before rolling his eyes. The older boy makes himself comfortable on Izuku’s bed, while Izuku sighs and climbs to his feet.
The fire in his chest burns, bright and upset.
“What got your undies in a bunch?” Katsuki challenges as Izuku joins him on the bed.
Izuku yells into his pillow, singeing the soft material a little. Katsuki snatches the pillow from him before he can do any lasting damage.
“My quirk evolved…” Izuku admits reluctantly.
“So?” Katsuki bristles like Izuku personally offended him. Izuku looks at Katsuki from the corner of his eyes, watching his explosive friend huff and fume to himself quietly.
“I don’t want my quirk, it’s dumb and bad.”
“Hah?” Katsuki sends a confused glare his way. “That’s like saying you don’t want one of your arms, stupid. Or your hair.”
Katsuki reaches over and gives Izuku’s curls a little tug that normally wouldn’t have hurt, but it irritates his head when the horns are growing. Izuku growls and he can feel scales cover his face, knuckles, and shins. Katsuki startles as Izuku punches his shoulder, but more from the change that the blow. “Knock it off Kacchan!”
The blonde stares him down, a frown slowly turning into a scowl.
“I think it makes you look cool! Not as cool as me, duh, but more like a dragon now…” Katsuki stands on the bed and lets his hands crackle and pop. He sounds frustrated despite his loud exclamations.
Unimpressed and in need of another nap, Izuku squints at him. He’s unamused. Izuku takes his discarded pillow back, fluffing it, before crashing into it. “I’m tired Kacchan.”
“We haven’t even done anything yet! That’s so lame!”
“Don’t care…”
Katsuki groans, plopping back on to the mattress. He bounces as he lands. “You can’t be a hero without a quirk you know.”
Izuku grits his teeth. They feel sharp in his mouth. “Can too!”
Tucking his face into his pillow, he misses the frustrated expression his friend makes.
“It would be dangerous, stupid. Quirks make stuff like fighting easier,” Katsuki argues.
Izuku keeps quiet.
Katsuki hums in thought, laying down on his back to stare up at the ceiling. Izuku takes a deep breath and lets his eyes shut. He gets maybe three seconds of quiet to ease his headache before he feels the bed jolt as Katsuki sits up with a loud, “ Yeah !”
He groans, taking his pillow and throwing it at the loud blonde. “Kacchan whaaat?”
Katsuki catches it with a toothy grin before he tosses it to the floor. Izuku stares after it, eyes full of longing. With a sigh, he sits up, pressing an unusually rough hand to his forehead. Confused, he looks at it, only to find it’s covered in softer scales the color of his normal skin tone. They’re different from the green ones littering his face and limbs, but the sight still makes his stomach sink. He looks at his fingers and sees they’ve grown pointed and black.
Frowning again, he looks to Katsuki, who’s watching him examine himself with curiosity. “You wanna be a hero, right Deku?”
Confused, Izuku nods vigorously. He tries not to wince when he does. “Yeah!”
Izuku blinks, suddenly finding Katsuki’s pinky in his face. He looks to the blonde to see a sharp grin filled with determination.
“Then let’s do our best to be heroes, together!”
Izuku smiles at his best friend, locking their pinkies together. “R-right!”
The rest of the night is spent talking about heroes and coming up with hero names. Mitsuki comes by to give Katsuki a goodbye kiss just before Inko finishes making dinner instead of staying. Izuku avoids looking his mom in the eye for the rest of the night, but he does apologize for his tantrum earlier.
The three of them eat quietly, with Katsuki occasionally disrupting the silence with an idea for a new hero name.
Inko smiles at the two boys from behind her tea. Their sleepover continues without any more fuss.
When Izuku’s ten, he and Katsuki are playing heroes in Katsuki’s backyard one sunny, spring day. Inko is at work so Mitsuki offered to watch Izuku until he had to go see his quirk therapist later that afternoon.
Izuku had seemed embarrassed when Inko gave Mitsuki a small All Might backpack and an odd looking device, that was swiftly tucked into the smallest pocket on the All Might bag. Katsuki didn’t bother asking about it as Izuku dragged them outside to play while their mother’s finished talking.
After a quick wrestling match, the boys are a giggling mess of grass, twigs, and leaves. Katsuki’s gray shirt has a large green patch on the back from where Izuku managed to run at him. The only way to avoid being poked by the other ten year old’s horns was to go down, so Katsuki did. Izuku had tripped over him and the two were laying in the grass, shoving each other playfully.
Out of breath, they sit up. Izuku’s breathing is a little heavier than Katsuki’s but neither say anything. They bask in the warm sunlight for a moment, before Katsuki stands up.
“Let’s play Bakugo’s Hero Agency! You can be my sidekick, Deku!” Katsuki grins, hands on his hips.
Izuku beams up at Katsuki from where he’s sitting in the grass, toying with a caterpillar on his scaled hands. He gently sets the caterpillar down on a leaf. “Okay! What are we going to do?”
Katsuki looks around the backyard. “I guess we could ask mom if we can patrol the playground.”
Izuku nods, standing up and dusting off his green overalls as he goes over to his best friend. Katsuki rolled his eyes, marching over to pluck a leaf out of his messy curls. Izuku’s breathing gets worse and his body takes on more dragon-like qualities.
“Izuku?”
Izuku’s now clawed hands go to rub at his chest as smoke pours from Izuku’s lips. His green eyes are wide, the pupils thin slits, and his breathing sounds off-more like wheezes and pained exhales than actual breathing.
What little of Izuku’s face not covered in scales is flushed pink. He falls to his hands and knees, sputtering and trying to breathe but failing.
Katuski panics, screaming for Mitsuki. “Mom!”
Izuku can barely hear him over his coughs and wheezes.