Chapter Text
While Hisashi Midoriya had never been the best father, it could be said that he had done what he could to raise a son after his wife passed away. She was a small, frail woman, but the complications during childbirth still came as a surprise. As a man unprepared to become a single parent, having a friend of his late wife as a neighbor was a blessing. Hisashi’s long absences meant that little Izuku spent most of his first few years with Kacchan and Auntie Mitsuki, but he was still there.
At least until that day. Izuku vaguely remembers going to the local clinic because of a dangerously high fever that led to the Auntie Mitsuki calling his father, her usually strong voice strained. But even after he feels better, the check-up draws on. For some reason, X-rays are taken, and that’s fun. After that, it gets confusing. The doctor pulls Hisashi away for a more private talk after gazing at Izuku with a pitying look. His father’s eyes are ice-cold when he returns.
He remembers staring at his bare feet and wiggling his toes. His double-jointed pinky toe. That’s what the doctor had said. Dou-ble-join-ted.
Then, instead of going back home, there is a long car ride. Hisashi doesn’t speak, but Izuku amuses himself by babbling about the nurse’s quirk, which she had used to easily lower his temperature. ‘Dad, do you think she can also help people that are very very cold? But maybe if my quirk is like yours, I won’t be cold anymore! Like, ever!’
He doesn’t notice the white-knuckled grip the man has on the steering wheel, nor the tight frown that mars his forehead, nor the way his eyes avoid looking at the rear-view mirror in case he catches sight of green hair. Izuku would never know, of course, that Hisashi had always found it difficult to spend time with him, the cause of his Inko’s death, who looked so much like her it pained him. So, in that moment, the choice was almost… easy.
After all, who would want a quirkless child?
When the three-year-old exits the car, his father doesn’t. This is the last time Izuku sees Hisashi Midoriya. Standing in an unknown, empty street, eyes uncomprehending as he watches the car going further and further away until it turns a corner and is gone. His stomach twists in painful knots as a sharp throb he doesn’t yet know as horror courses through him.
Their meeting is almost like fate. Tears well up Izuku's eyes, his nose feels stuffy and he can’t breathe— just to immediately freeze. Across the street, alone like him, is another kid. Clothes dirty and head hanging, the boy scratches his neck in a way that looks painful. Izuku forgets about the doctor’s pitying eyes, his father’s grave face, the silence in the car, the way that his eyesight has become blurred, and his heart hurts. He doesn’t even think before calling out.
“U-Uhm...!” he uses both hands to cup his mouth and shout, “are you alright?!”
The boy’s head rises slightly, and his wide eyes catch sight of Izuku. He doesn’t answer as his right hand drops from his neck to pull at the left one in a self-soothing gesture. Izuku feels himself tearing up again as he notices the dry redness —blood— on the other's fingers and neck. He always cries when Kacchan pushes him down, and that must hurt a lot. More than a lot. Izuku runs across the street without looking both sides and feels guilty for doing so immediately after. Aunt Mitsuki always gets mad when he and Kacchan do that.
Now that Izuku is in front of the other boy, he offers a wobbly smile.
“M-my name is Izuku. What’s yours?” There is no answer for a long moment, during which they both simply stare. Despite being hunched, the older boy is taller than all of Izuku’s classmates, and his skin is pale and wrinkled in a way that makes him look sick. There is no one else on sight, no adults nor an older sibling. Maybe he is lost. Oh! Maybe if his family takes too long to show up, Izuku can ask dad to call them when he returns.
His stomach twists again. He ignores it.
“Tenko,” a scratchy voice says. Tenko? Green eyes focus back on the present before he can get too far lost in thought.
Izuku smiles widely at his new friend. "Nice to meet you, Tenko!" Trying to find something to talk about, his mind jumps to the coolest thing ever. Just as cool as heroes. Even Kacchan gets excited about it, every time.
“You’re older than me, right? Do you have your quirk yet?” Instead of the smile he is expecting, Tenko’s eyes widen as he stumbles away from Izuku with a gasp. Tremors wrack his body, and both of his hands start scratching his skin raw. And scratching. And scratching. Izuku can do nothing but stand in shock as, in no time, fresh blood drips down Tenko’s hands and the front of his shirt.
"No. No, no. I don’t— I didn’t! It was an accident. I just want it to stop. It hurts. It hurts!”, Tenko’s voice breaks and quivers. Wanting to help, Izuku tries to approach only to stop again upon noticing it only makes Tenko more erratic. Anxiously, he retreats. That doesn’t seem to help either and green eyes flood with fresh tears. What to do, then? But there is no time to stand and do nothing once he starts clawing at the skin around his eyes, fragile skin tearing easily. Izuku’s mind goes blank and before he knows it, he has tackled Tenko into the dry patch of grass before he could break even more skin, lower lip trembling.
"Stop, you’re hurting yourself!” Even with a handful of Tenko’s shirt and sitting his chest, Izuku feels like he is the one who has been forced to hit the ground. Immediately after, the tears he had been holding back all day simply break free and he starts bawling. Kacchan gets mad when he cries, but Kacchan isn’t here, is he?
After a beat, Tenko joins him. They wail and sob even as two people walk by with long strides and adverted eyes; until the sky goes pink and orange, and the floor becomes too cold to bear against the thin fabric of their clothes. Then they sit up against the wall of the closest building with itchy eyes and reddened noses. Neither speaks until the stars appear, and when the silence is broken, it is for Izuku to admit that he doesn’t think his dad is coming back.
Then, Tenko tells him about his quirk. Izuku’s excitement quickly dies down. He doesn’t push for a demonstration, nor does he ramble about its uses and advantages and heroes with similar quirks. He wants to, just a bit, but he instead he chooses to listen quietly, afraid of interrupting, as if doing so meant that Tenko would keep quiet forever. He doesn’t understand everything his new friend says. His voice is low and raspy, he stutters and keeps quiet for too long to calm his breathing, he cries quietly and scratches at his skin. But when he finishes, he looks better, his eyes less dark.
Izuku knows that he got his quirk and couldn’t control it, and he hurt his family so bad they are gone forever. Like Izuku’s mom. And he knows it was an accident. Maybe Izuku can help him so it doesn’t happen again, if Tenko lets him. He doesn’t say it yet, because it doesn’t feel right when Tenko looks like he’s falling apart — but later. They can do it later.
It doesn't take long for exhaustion to seep in and their eyes to close. Eventually, they fall asleep snuggled against each other. It’s cold, but together it’s not so bad. Tenko lays relaxed, fingers wrapped with a lot of hero-themed band-aids provided by his new friend, and dreams.