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U.A. has always been a source of pride for the citizens of Musutafu (and often Japan as a whole). The building was built sometime in the latter half of the twenty-third century and was one of the first of its kind. With a state-of-the-art security system, an ever-expanding, "proven" curriculum for everything from general studies to the hero course, and a budget that rivaled the Japanese army's own, it's safe to say that U.A. has earned its title as one of the best secondary schools to send your children to.
Or at least it had been, right up until the war broke out.
Then, U.A. became a nearly impenetrable fortress to protect the residents of Musutafu. Dorms-more specifically, the hero students' dorms (as there's no guarantee that they'll ever return)-were cleaned out, all student belongings being collected in cardboard boxes and packed in a large, abandoned supply closet, and then certain residents (usually with more significant importance than just a regular civilian) were moved in.
The rest of the residents, who were not labeled as important or high-ranking, were packed together in U.A.'s (large but still too-small) gymnasium. Emergency-use cots lined the room in uneven rows, as even though the workers (heroes whose quirks were better suited to helping the civilians than fighting a war and the occasional volunteer) tried to keep everything nice and neat, the kids with too much pent-up energy and anxiety regarding the fate of the rest of their (hopefully) long lives would end up messing it up again when they ran in between the beds.
Upon arriving at the shelter, they were given (based on how many people were in their family and their ages) a day-and-a-half's worth of food and water, blankets, and (in the case of those that got to the shelter after the war already started) some clean clothes.
It isn't much, but also, at the same time, way more than any of them expected.
Inko worries her bottom lip, the skin becoming red and irritated from the repeated motion. She would stop, but the only thing she could do right now was worry. Well, worry and offer the occasional word of comfort to Mitsuki, who hasn't heard anything from her son either.
Sometimes, when announcements on the outside are scarce, Inko will sit and talk for hours with her old friend. It helps pass the time, and it's not like Mitsuki has ever needed any extra encouragement to keep the conversation flowing.
But today, for some reason, her friend doesn't look to be in the talking mood. Inko isn't entirely sure what the volunteers told Mitsuki after they pulled her and her husband aside, but in the couple of hours since, her friend hasn't stopped crying.
And Mitsuki never cries. Ever.
At least not in public, but it's not like she can escape anywhere else. Their house has likely been destroyed, collateral damage to a war none of them have any part in (except for their loved ones fighting to keep them safe). The one and only thing that could possibly make Mitsuki so upset would be Katsuki-Kun's death. But that thought's so utterly ridiculous that Inko pushes it out of her mind immediately.
Because if someone as volatile, hot-headed, and competitive as Katsuki-Kun could be squashed, what hope did her too-sweet, too-giving little boy have?
So, here Inko sits on the edge of her cot, eyeing the rest of the families that didn't get separated by stupid things such as moral obligation and distance. She tries to block out her friend's crying, but it's the only thing she can focus on. Until Inko can't take it anymore and places her delicate hands over her ears.
She shuts her eyes and pretends she's back home in their decently sized apartment in Musutafu. Izuku hasn't sold his soul to heroics and is content watching the pro heroes from the sidelines. Hisashi is there too, more present than he has been in the past seven years.
They're there, together, happy, and that's more than Inko could ever hope for.
And, of course, like all the good things in her life, it doesn't last long.
Someone is tapping her on the shoulder. She opens her eyes and slowly removes her hands from her ears. A volunteer stands in front of her. A woman with neon-pink hair and gray eyes asks her to enter a nearby room.
The same room that Mitsuki and her husband were led to earlier that day.
She fights down the urge to demand that her son, her Izuku, is still alive because she isn't sure her heart can handle the stress of not knowing any longer. But she's too exhausted and wound up to start any fights, so Inko follows after the pink-haired volunteer.
Despite the woman's words, Inko isn't led to the side room her friend had been in but to another door that leads deeper into U.A.
Even being granted safety in U.A. came with a few stipulations. One of which is that under no circumstances were civilians to be given access to anything past the dorms (with other caveats) or gymnasium.
"Uh, Miss, I don't think I'm allowed this way," Inko says, holding her balled-up hands close to her chest.
The pink-haired woman smiles reassuringly and says this is a "special circumstance."
That hardly eases Inko's nervous stomach, but she nods along anyway.
She's led further and further into the school. Down winding hallways and passed locked classrooms. Inko vaguely wonders if, one day soon, the students here will have a chance at returning to their studies. Though, given how they've been treated like little more than cannon fodder, she wouldn't blame them if they didn't.
"Right here," the woman tells Inko. They've stopped in front of a door labeled Principal Nedzu. The woman's eyes have nothing but pity in them, and that hardly makes Inko feel any better. "Good luck," she says.
Inko can't muster up the words to be polite, so she gives a curt nod instead. The woman leaves her alone shortly after that. It's solely up to Inko to make the first move to find out why she's been summoned to the principal's office (of all places and people).
Her fist hovers over the solid oak door for perhaps a tad too long because a commanding (but clear) voice tells her to come in.
The first thing Inko takes notice of when she enters the office is, of course, Principal Nedzu. He's standing (not sitting) on his desk. He wears a somber expression, and his ears flatten against his head when their eyes meet.
The second, third, and fourth thing she notices is All Might, in all his preretirement glory, standing off to the side of the principal's desk. Her absentee husband is covered in sweat and dirt and wearing some kind of sash that's reminiscent of ancient Rome or Greece-sitting in an armchair in the corner of the office. And the last thing is the small-equally dirty child he's holding tightly to his chest.
Even curled up, Inko catches a glimpse of curly, white hair. She looks to her husband, wanting, no, needing some explanation for what's happening.
"All Might?" She asks once it becomes apparent her husband has no immediate explanation.
"Midoriya-San," Principal Nedzu starts, walking to the edge of his desk to place a gentle paw on her arm, "a lot has happened over the last few hours. It's probably best if you sit down."
"What… what's happened? Where's my baby?" She shoots Hisashi an anxiety-ridden glance. "Hisashi, who is that? Do you know where Izuku is?"
"Midoriya-San, please take a seat," Principal Nedzu insists.
She does so, but only because Inko is sure she'll faint if she doesn't. The worry is starting to take its toll on her.
"Now then," he says, once she's situated in the chair ten feet or so away from Hisashi. "I believe explanations are in order." He hops off his desk and onto All Might's shoulders. Her son's mentor hardly flinches at the motion, evidently used to it.
"Young Midoriya is still alive, for now," All Might tells her. The for now burns into her mind, and she has to force herself to stay quiet for the entire explanation. "He was returning from a small trip on a nearby island to gather intel and ran into trouble." All Might looks over at Hisashi, disgust written all over his face. "Your husband can explain the rest."
Inko shifts in her seat, eyes pleading with her husband to make it all make sense. She can forgive so much, but if she finds out Hisashi was complicit in any way in hurting their baby, it's over.
He stares back at her, red eyes frightened and unsure. "Inko, my love, I am so, so sorry," he says, voice strained.
"Save it, Hisashi. Just…just, please tell me where our son is. Please."
He audibly gulps, looking down at the small child on his lap. "I…I only wanted to save him. But there was so little I could do." Tears well up in his eyes, but don't fall. Hisashi holds the child closer. "It's his fault!"
"It was the only way," All Might explains, paying little mind to her husband's theatrics. "Shigaraki is too strong-"
"It's still your fault!" Hisashi shouts, face reddening further.
"It's not," he assures her, still ignoring Hisashi. "I think it's time I explain your son's quirk. How much do you know about One for All?"
Inko is still processing her husband's bizarre behavior when he asks the question. In all their years together, Hisashi has always managed to keep his composure. The metaphorical rock in their marriage. The idea of what could possibly have him so rattled and All Might's earlier words about her son not being dead yet have her more than a little shaken up.
"Is…is that what it's called? He just said it was a genetic mutation. Never gave it a name."
All Might bends down to her height, Principal Nedzu holding tightly to his hair to keep from falling off. "Right," he laughs despite the situation, "that kid. As I'm sure you assumed, it wasn't a genetic mutation. It's hard to explain, but in short, it's a stockpiling quirk mixed with a transference quirk that has been passed along eight times. Nine, if we count Young Midoriya. It was created approximately two hundred years ago after the villain All for One forced the aforementioned stockpiling ability onto his younger brother."
"Wha…Hisashi?" She cranes her neck to look behind All Might. Her husband, much like their son, is an avid quirk enthusiast. If such a thing exists, he'd know.
He avoids her gaze. "One for All was my little brother's quirk," is all he says.
But that doesn't make any sense. Hisashi is forty-something and can't possibly be a villain.
"I don't… I'm not following. Are you saying my husband is the infamous two-hundred-year-old villain, All for One? The same villain that forced you into retirement?"
Principal Nedzu is the first to answer, as both All Might and Hisashi have taken to not talking. "That's exactly what he's saying."
She laughs hysterically, startling nearly everyone except the sleeping child. "No…no!" She cackles, leaning her head back to stare at the water-stained ceiling. "That's ridiculous!"
"They're telling the truth, love," her husband says. "I never wanted you or Izuku involved. I never wanted to hurt you guys."
"Too late for that," All Might grumbles under his breath.
"And Izuku?"
"You've heard of Nomu, right?" All Might asks. When she nods, he continues, "Well, your husband was the main benefactor behind their funding and research. He and Dr.Garaki. Their research got to such a point that these creatures started to gain some semblance of intelligence and higher reasoning. On someone's orders, we don't know who yet; they intercepted your son on his way back. He fought back, but…."
Inko sits up, nails digging into the armrests. "But?"
"But it wasn't enough. He got away, but not without sustaining some major injuries. He called me, and we met up in one of the few buildings still standing and out of range of the battles." All Might closes his eyes, grimacing. "There was…" he shakes his head lightly, "...so much blood. Young Midoriya gets hurt so often and always bounces back. It's… It's kind of hard to imagine any scenario where he can't."
"Can't," Inko repeats, tears falling from her eyes. Her voice breaks, and her bottom lip wobbles at the implication that her son, her baby, couldn't continue on. Because he would have if he was able. Izuku doesn't just give up. Never has. Never will.
"He apparently saw the amount of damage that Shigaraki was inflicting and begged me to help the heroes."
"But you're retired."
"Yes, well, Young Midoriya thought it would be in Japan's best interest if I…" All Might's voice cracks; he looks at the door rather than her. Principal Nedzu frowns. "If I take back One for All."
Inko smiles. "Is that all? You didn't leave him there, did you?"
"No, but taking back the quirk has devastating effects on the person giving it back. It's never been done before, so I didn't know all the potential side effects. One for All tends to suck the life out of the person wielding it when it's passed along. Hence, I lost any ability to do hero work after the battle in Kamino."
Inko shifts in her seat, the nervous feeling returning ten-fold. "But you're still alive," she says, trying to reassure herself. "Quirk or no quirk, I'll be happy just to have my son back."
All Might squeezes his eyes shut. "Before I got One for All, I was quirkless. Which helped me be able to harness the power and energy within the quirk and be able to hand it off without it affecting my health too much." Seeing Inko's incredulous look, he adds, "Most of my previous health issues were due to fighting your husband seven years ago."
And that, that lines up way too perfectly. Inko stares down at her lap. Something occurs to her. "Izuku, though, he's quirkless."
"Apparently not. He had a hidden quirk this whole time. One that just needed the right opportunity to present itself. Unfortunately, this means when Young Midoriya passed One for All back to me, the backlash of the quirk leaving him caused his already weakened and injured form to come very, very close to death."
Inko says nothing. Just stares vacantly at the wall across from the desk.
"Through a series of unrelated events, I found them," Hisashi says. "I was severely injured during my fight with that big, blond oaf and couldn't come home. It was only today, during a battle against the number one hero, that I could use a rewind quirk that the doctor copied from a bullet. This quirk comes with the downside of slowly turning me younger and younger until there's nothing left of me. I can usually avoid the disadvantages of the quirks I 'borrow,' as my body is built to handle and use all the many different types of abilities. But for whatever reason, I don't have immunity from rewind. The minute I activated it, my time started ticking."
Inko places her face in her hands. She allows herself to weep. Not only has she lost her baby, but she's also losing her husband, who, despite all his transgressions, is still the love of her life (but she wouldn't stop All Might if he tried to punch him). She will be left all alone, wondering where she went wrong.
"Oh, Midoriya-San," Principal Nedzu says, patting her head comfortingly.
"Please, don't fret, my dear. I'm over two hundred years old. I'm not going anywhere for a little bit."
Inko continues to weep, shoulders wracking with each shaky inhale and exhale.
"Midoriya-San, your husband found me and Young Midoriya. I don't know how, but he did. He saw the state your son was in and used rewind on him."
"You killed our son!?" Inko is quick to get to her feet. She glares daggers at Hisashi; the sudden urge to use her quirk and pull him apart piece by bloody piece is almost overwhelming. Inko only gets a few feet closer before All Might holds her back, arms held down at her sides. She sobs, begging her son's mentor to let her kill the bastard who took her baby from her.
Hisashi, for his part, looks at her. Tears slide down his cheeks, and he smiles shakily at her. "I….I wanted to bring him home." He looks down at the child on his lap. "He had a variation of All for One," he speaks fondly, carding his fingers through the boy's curly hair. "One that was mixed with your quirk. He truly is a perfect mix of both of us, huh?"
Inko stops struggling. "Izuku?"
Her husband doesn't say anything, but he doesn't have to. She wriggles out of All Might's grasp, hurrying to join her son and husband. Hisashi adjusts in the chair to allow her a better look at the sleeping child.
The child is most definitely their Izuku. With his diamond-spotted freckles and wild curls, the only difference is that his hair is now white instead of his signature turquoise. He whimpers, grabbing onto Hisashi.
"Shhh… it's okay. It's okay," Hisashi murmurs, stroking their son's head.
"Izu, baby, it's mom. Can you open your eyes?" Inko asks, leaning over the arm of the chair.
Izuku coughs, shivering, and it's then that Inko sees that he's dressed in little more than the rags from his hero costume. "Mommy…?" Green eyes so unlike hers, but oh, so familiar at the same time slowly open.
His eyes are glassy and unfocused, not staying fixed on any particular person or thing. But the minute he sees her, Izuku smiles.
“Mommy…I… I've missed you," he says, in a voice that Inko can only recall from old home videos and nearly forgotten memories. "Daddy said I'd see you again, and he's never wrong."
She places a trembling hand on their son's freckled cheek. "Izuku, baby, I'm…" Inko trails off, words failing her. This could be her final moments with their son (and perhaps her husband, because if what they are saying is true, then it's very likely they'll keep him locked up somewhere until he dies). "I've missed you a lot, too," she finishes.
"Mommy," Izuku says after a moment of absolute silence, "I'm very tired."
"Oh," she says, mind going blank. Inko looks up at her husband, and from the way he shakes his head and the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach, she knows that if Izuku falls asleep again, he won't wake up. "Can you stay awake for a little longer?" She asks, reaching out to gather him up in her arms.
Hisashi is hesitant but relents when Inko glares at him.
Izuku gives a little nod, grabbing onto her once he's switched between his parents. "Okay, mommy," he says. "I'll stay awake for you."
She bounces him in her arms. The motion used to make him erupt into giggles way back when, but now Izuku barely cracks a smile. "Oh, my baby," she croons sadly. "I always wished to be able to hold you again, but…." Inko suppresses the urge to cry (which is especially hard for her), pulling her son closer. Her chest feels tight, and the lump in her throat grows with every moment, drawing nearer and nearer to the inevitable.
She kisses the crown of Izuku's head and breathes in the coppery scent of blood and heavy smoke. The urge to cry and scream and damn everyone who dared take her baby away from her lays upon Inko like an oppressive force. "Izuku," she murmurs into his curls.
He shifts, the only sign he has yet to fall asleep.
A hand is laid on her shoulder. "Midoriya-San?" All Might asks, tone oddly timid. At some point, the principal must have returned to his desk because he wasn't on All Might's shoulders.
She turns slowly, holding Izuku tightly (perhaps too tightly) to her chest. As if holding on with all her might will prevent death from laying claim to her baby. Only once Inko stares at him, expressive eyes devoid of joy, does All Might ask a favor.
"Midoriya-San, I know I have no right to ask this of you. But…I…Young Midoriya was- is like a son to me. I was hoping I could hold him for a minute. To say goodbye."
No! She wants to scream. You're the reason, the main reason, why she and Hisashi are about to lose their baby.
But, fortunately for All Might, the rational part of her brain wins out. Inko supposed for as much time as her son's mentor spent with him, he should be able to say goodbye.
It takes all her strength to hand her son over and all her willpower not to lunge at him when Izuku calls for her and Hisashi.
Of course, having the memories (did rewind do that? Or was Izuku so injured he suffered some form of amnesia?) of a preschooler, it's unlikely he'd remember his mentor. Still, the man tries his hardest to make Izuku comfortable.
He talks to Izuku in his pro-hero voice. The one that Izuku used to practice for hours and try to imitate.
"My boy," All Might says, laying a hand on top of Izuku's head, "you've more than proven yourself, time and time again. I know I don't say it enough, but I…" He lets out a hollow-sounding laugh. "I am so proud of you." All Might gently kisses Izuku's forehead. "I hope, wherever you end up, I can make you half as proud." He, with the face of someone who's lost it all, places Izuku back into her arms.
Without so much as a word or a wave, All Might hurries from the room. Principal Nedzu watches him leave, concern written clearly across his face.
"I'll leave you three alone for a bit," he says, hopping down from his desk.
The minute the door shuts, Inko can't hold herself back from crying any longer.
Even holding Izuku and feeling his tiny breaths of air against her collarbone wasn't enough to stave off her growing hysteria. "Hisashi," she cries, slumping down beside the armchair. "I can't. I can't. I can't."
Hisashi strokes her hair soothingly. "Can't what?" He asks, tone light. "Can't bear the thought of being left alone?"
She forces herself to look up at her husband. The dig went deeper than the current situation, and Hisashi knows that. Inko's entire life, up until she met Hisashi, she had been alone.
She was abandoned at the hospital she was born at and then grew up in a series of foster homes. None of which took any interest in her, especially after she developed a weak quirk. Her teenage years weren't any better, with her being rendered homeless at the tender age of sixteen due to an influx of kids in need of foster care and not enough homes.
It was only due to hard work, luck, and the fates themselves that Inko married Hisashi. Or, so, she told herself. Perhaps there's more to their meeting because what could a two-hundred-year-old villain possibly want with her, of all people?
But she can't focus on any of that right now because her husband isn't looking down at her with any amount of sadistic glee but with an expression of shared pain.
"What if I told you you didn't have to be left behind?"
"I would tell you to stop giving me false hope."
"No false hope here," Hisashi promises, leaning over the chair to kiss her forehead. "If you so desired, I could use one of my quirks to kill you."
"Like…like assisted suicide?" She asks; the thought of dying makes her feel a tad lightheaded.
"To put it bluntly, yes. Your choice, of course, but I wanted to give you the option."
"Can I have some time to think it over? I don't want to miss our son's final moments." Well, she would, but there's no guarantee Inko will ever get to see him again. This tumultuous moment in time, while heart-wrenching and soul-crushing, might be the only closure she'll ever get. Besides, Izuku- if he has to die so young- deserves to die surrounded by some of the people who love him most in the world.
"Yes," Hisashi says, getting up from the armchair and joining them on the office floor. "I wouldn't dream of separating you from our son. Family is meant to stick together."
Inko nods, moving to allow her husband better access to huddle close to them.
Truth be told, it's not the most comfortable of positions. Her body aches, and her arms have long since gone numb, but Inko refuses to give in, taking refuge in Hisashi's warm embrace.
"Mommy?" Izuku coughs, droplets of blood escape the corner of his mouth. "Daddy?" His tiny body shakes in her grasp. "I wanna go home," he whines.
"Soon, Izu, soon," Hisashi tells their son, thumb rubbing circles on one of Izuku's temples.
"But…but it hurts," he says, voice barely above a strained whisper. "'Uncle and grandma say it's time to rest. Uncle says he'll wait for you, Daddy."
To say Hisashi blue-screened for a solid two minutes would be an understatement. His mouth is agape, and he's looking around the room as if hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever their son is seeing.
Inko would think it's a little funny, as her husband's prone to dramatics, if not for the severe look her son fixes her with.
"Grandma says she's very sorry. She never wanted you to be alone." Izuku is looking at something (or someone) just behind her shoulder. "She says she is very, very proud of you. And grandma says if you need to rest with me and daddy, she wouldn't blame you." For the first time since she first woke him up, Izuku smiles. He looks at her, eyes much more focused. "You are a very good mommy. You're the best mommy, and I love you very much."
Any composure Inko might have been holding onto disappears with those words. She bawls, holding Izuku and rocking back and forth.
Hisashi manages to get over his initial shock to wrap his arms around her. He holds them close, whispering meaningless words of comfort into her hair.
Between sobs, Inko chokes out four words. "Don't leave me alone."
"Never," Hisashi tells her, brushing a hand over her forehead. The action is comforting and familiar in that it was something he used to do a lot when they first started seeing each other.
Slowly, the light dims in their son's eyes. Izuku's breathing slows to the occasional deep breath, like he's forgotten how to utilize the little bit of oxygen he's getting. The grasp on her blouse loosens until his tiny hand falls limply to his lap.
Inko isn't entirely sure when their baby took his last breath. Her brain turns the slightest movement, whether by their doing or Izuku's, into a sign of him being alive. It's only when Hisashi starts to cry that she understands what's happened.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry, little one. I should have been there. I should have protected you." Hisashi speaks fast, words blending together, a note of hysteria in his usually calm, even voice.
Inko feels strangely numb, sitting there, looking down at the blissful, still face of their son. Gingerly, she shuts his eyes. "Hisashi," she murmurs, still looking down at Izuku.
"I never should have targeted Nana's family. You both deserve so much better-"
"Hisashi," Inko snaps, tone harsh. Her husband flinches back, eyes wide. "Hisashi," she says, gentler but blunt, "I think…I think I'm ready to rest now."
"Inko," he pleads, despite it initially being his idea, "think of everything you'd be missing out on. You have friends that care about you."
"I have a friend, and she's dealing with her own problems. Love, please, you said so yourself: family is meant to stay together." Leftover tears roll down her cheeks. "You and Izuku are all I have, and I was content and happy. But I don't think I want to continue on without you two."
Hisashi looks at her intently. It's the same face he makes when he's considering something important. He must come to some resolution because he nods, muttering something under his breath.
"Okay," he says, lifting a hand up to her forehead. "I just want you to know, in all my years of existence, you were my only love. And if I never see you again, my soul will forever treasure and hold dear our moments together."
Inko gives him a shaky smile. "I love you, too, Hisashi."
She closes her eyes and awaits whatever quirk her husband deems worthy of getting the job done.
She hardly notices the office door opening until All Might tries to get her attention. Inko glances at him to get him to calm down, but the minute he sees how limp and lifeless Izuku is in her arms, all color drains from his face. He falls to his knees, broken.
Something tells Inko that Hisashi wouldn't extend the same offer to the symbol of peace. It's almost a shame Inko thinks that her son died, giving back the quirk to give the rest of Japan (and presumably, soon, the world as well) a fighting chance. And here, falling apart not ten feet away is the very person who is meant to save them.
The word pathetic crosses her mind, but Inko immediately feels terrible the moment she thinks it.
It isn't his fault.
Hisashi holds his hand on her forehead, blocking her sight. He hums their wedding song under his breath, slowly increasing his grip.
There's a pressure, very slight but still noticeable, and then she's falling forward. She slumps to the side, Izuku cradled in her arms.