Chapter Text
Prologue
Ring around the rosies
The backyard had a rose bush. A scraggly thing that stubbornly clung to life despite the family’s collective neglect. Sometimes, a tiny pink bud would pop up amongst the yellow-green leaves.
A pocket full of posies
The first and only time Tenko had tried to bring his mother flowers, carefully picked from the side of the road on the way home, his father slapped him across the face for bringing weeds into the house.
Ashes, ashes
He’d thought it was a villain at first. Some small, secret part of him hoped it would get his father. It was a villain. Just not the one Tenko expected. And he was so, so angry. It wasn’t fair.
We all fall down
A blackish purple portal writhed closing around two children, as All Might threw himself forward. Closer. Closer! He was barely able to pluck one of the two, pulling a white haired boy no older than eight into his arms as the portal snapped shut, only just giving him a glimpse of fluffy green hair before it was gone. The child in his arms flinched when he began to shout his customary catchphrase, so All Might quieted, settling for a much quieter “It’s all right, because I’m here.”
Chapter One
All Might stared through the glass, observing the scrawny, malnourished child currently doing his best to glare a hole in the opposite wall, orange juice left stubbornly untouched beside the hospital bed.
“He still won’t speak?” Next to him, Tsukauchi’s lips quirked up in a wry smile.
“I wouldn’t exactly say that, All Might. Once he figured out we weren’t going to hurt him…well let’s say I didn’t know an eight year old could use insults quite that creatively. It was a real shot in the heart for Tadashi. He might have to go into early retirement after the kid was done with him.” Both men chuckled before sobering as the boy, giving up his staring contest with the wall, drew his knees up to his chest and resumed picking his cracked hands.
“So he…did he…is he really?” Toshinori trailed off, uncomfortably rubbing the back of his neck with hesitation few bore witness to. But this was new territory for everyone. All For One’s prisoners were rarely recovered alive, and in the months since All Might had finally ended his reign of terror, that number had dropped to nearly zero. Hideout after hideout, villain after villain, either trying to hide their involvement by destroying the evidence, or scheming to fill the power vacuum, continuing on the work of their previous master. It had been exhausting, heart-breaking work that he had only just healed enough from the battle with All For One to take part in. He was still not really healthy, but people needed to see him. Needed to hope. Still, he couldn’t save everyone, despite what the media said. Fluffy green hair and the tearful shout of “stay with me” had haunted his dreams since the rescue. None of the other teams had reported victims, dead or otherwise in the following days. Tsukauchi’s voice pulled Toshinori back out of his head.
“Shimura Tenko. Eight years old last Tuesday. Two years ago the entire Shimura family was found murdered in their own home. Everyone except him. I read the report, it was like he vanished off the face of the planet.”
“Until last week.”
“Until last week. Realistically speaking, we know nothing about the kid. It was a miracle that we were able to identify his name. He has no registered quirk, hasn’t displayed one since he was brought in, but fights like a wet cat if anyone tries to touch him. And has presumably spent the past two years with the most dangerous villain to have ever lived.” All Might blew out a long breath, wincing as what was once his stomach twinged.
“It’s something he would have done. Going after her family to get to me.” It made his blood boil with a combination of rage and guilt, knowing that All For One had likely killed Tenko’s whole family and kidnapped him all to get to Toshinori. It didn’t take a genius to realize that one way or another, the boy was meant to become a weapon against him. Either by his death or through some perverted mental game that All For One had been so fond of. He’s gone, Toshinori reminded himself firmly, he can’t hurt anyone anymore.
Tsukauchi frowned. “We have a caseworker looking into how best to move forward. The amount of families we have who are prepared to help with the amount of trauma that comes from something like this…it won’t be easy. I even asked Aizawa, but he said the only thing he was qualified to adopt were cats.”
Toshinori raised an eyebrow. He’d only met the young underground hero once or twice, but his grumpy demeanor did not exactly scream parental. “Why Eraserhead? He didn’t seem the…family type to me.”
“He’s underground, Yagi. He sees more trafficking crimes than most, and has the certifications to match. Young or not…our options are extremely limited. It’s all I can do to give the commission a run around right now. They wanted to take him in as a ward, active immediately.”
“What would the hero commission want with him?” Toshinori realized how stupid he sounded the second the words left his mouth. Of course the Hero Commission would want to speak with young Shimura. They had the best interests of hero society as a whole at heart, of course, but even so…the occasional comment here and there had given Toshinori enough information to piece together that he and the Hero Commission had a difference of opinion on what means justified what ends. If they thought he was a sleeper agent…Toshinori also couldn’t deny it was a possibility. All For One had no qualms with using children. It gave him an uneasy feeling, though, thinking of handing the boy over to the stiff suited characters that he usually had to interact with when dealing with them. “...Right. Nevermind.”
Tsukauchi went back to starting at Tenko. “This kid…he’s going to need a lot of support. Someone rock solid. You know as well as I do that nobody walks away from All For One whole, whether or not you have all your limbs attached.”
Tenko rested his cheek on his knee, staring out the window with an expression that nearly threw Toshinori into the past with how painfully it reminded him of his master. She’d had the exact same look on her face when the world rested particularly heavily on her shoulders, but she refused to set it down, even for a second.
“I can take him.” The words were out before he could fully process them, hanging in the silence between him and Tsukauchi.
“Yagi, I know you feel guilty, but this isn’t your fault. Shimura wouldn’t–”
“It’s not because of that.” Toshinori flushed as the detective raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I…yes, I do see her, in him. But I know he’s not Nana. She would have taken him in without a second thought, but…but that’s not the reason I’m offering.” Toshinori had been young, too, when his world was shattered. He’d shared the look in the boy’s eyes. “He needs someone to keep the weight of the world off his shoulders, Naomasa. I can do that for him. You know I have the certifications too. Please just…consider me.”
For a long moment Tsukauchi stared at him. He had meant every word, unable to clearly understand the thoughts circling his head until he’d spoken. Truth be told, both men knew Toshinori was a pathetic liar, even if Tsukauchi’s quirk wasn’t Lie Detector. “I’ll talk to his caseworker.”
“Thank-”
“I’m not making any promises, Yagi. You’ll have to go through the process like anyone else, but I’ll bring you up.”
Toshinori nodded seriously, relief making his shoulders droop. “That’s all I ask, my friend.” For a moment they were silent again.
“Can I…can I talk to him?”
“You are still the lead acting hero on his case, so yes. Maybe he’ll react better to you. You were the one who rescued him, after all.” Tsukauchi’s phone rang, its cheerful tone loud in the quiet hospital ward. It was guarded by at least three card swipes, designed for victims of major villain attacks, those who might still be in danger of an assault.
“Speak of the caffeinated devil himself…I’ve got to take this.” Tsukauchi turned, phone already in hand. “Tsukauchi speaking…I’m surprised you’re conscious it’s three in the afternoon…”
Squaring his shoulders and remembering his initial rescue, All Might decided to forgo his customary announcement. Still, he prepared his brightest grin and ducked into the room.
Tenko’s head snapped around like a viper to glare at him, nested as close as he could get to the headboard of the bed. Toshinori couldn’t help but think he looked remarkably like a disgruntled owlet. All puffed feathers and false bravado. After years of putting his own front to the world, Toshinori knew a thing or two about the hidden fear that swirled behind the eyes that were currently trying to set him on fire.
“Hello there, young Shimura!” He sat on the stool next to the bed, not missing the way the boy edged away from him, body coiled like a spring.
“You…you kidnapped me!” All Might laughed uneasily, bringing up a hand to rub the back of his neck awkwardly. The boy flinched. It was subtle, but it was there. What had he…oh. His hand. Way to go, Toshinori you idiot.
“Don’t touch me! You big banana slug faced porcupine haired s-slime! I can…I…I will hurt you!” Somehow, when Tsukauchi had said the boy had a talent for insults he hadn’t been expecting this. Young Shimura’s eyes were locked on him with the intensity of a caged animal. Carefully telegraphing his movements, All Might slowly lowered his hands to his lap.
“I can understand that you might be frightened, You–”
“I’m not scared! I already told you I can hurt you! I..I’ll make sure it hurts bad!” Despite his threats, the boy’s hands trembled, wringing together. Oddly enough, Toshinori noted that his particular pattern of fidgeting never seemed to go between three fingers grasping on one wrist before raking across the other. Again and again…five point touch?
Deciding to take a different approach, All Might tried, “My mistake, Young Shimura. I’m sure you are more than able to defend yourself, but I have no intention of hurting you. And if this has been a misunderstanding, maybe we can figure it out if you talk to me. And I can talk to the police for you.” There was a long beat of silence where Shimura stared sullenly at him, and just as he was mentally resigning himself to the fact that he’d messed up again, some of the tension drained from the boy’s frame. The suspicion was still there, so was the anger, but he seemed less cornered than before.
“That’s not my name anymore. That’s a dead person, Sensei said so.” All Might fought to keep the easy smile on his face, feeling it turn brittle. Mind games indeed.
“Oh? Then what should I call you?” Another beat, the boy’s frantic fidgeting calming until he was only absently scratching a cracked, reddish patch on his neck.
“Shigaraki. I’m Shigaraki Tomura.”
“Well then, young Shigaraki, my name is Yagi Toshinori. I want to help you, but even if you don’t realize it yet, you were rescued from a very bad villain. I–”
“You’re lying to me just so you can take me to jail and never let me out! I–don’t try it! I’m…I’m just waiting for Sensei to take me home and if you try to take me away before then I’ll make sure you’re sorry!” The tension was back, frantic fidgeting resuming as Shimura’s eyes darted to the doorway before locking back on All Might. Yaga blinked.
“…why would we send you to jail?” This seemed to derail the boy’s bluster, confusion creeping into the belligerence.
“Because…because you’re a hero! I know it! You’re just trying to trick me into thinking you aren’t because you took off your costume but I saw you in it when you kidnapped me. You’re All Might. You only attack real villains,” the word villain was said with a mixture of pride and venom, something about the way the boy tripped over the word catching Toshinori’s ears, “and heroes take villains to jail!”
“I’m not here to take you to jail, young Shigaraki.” Shigaraki’s mouth snapped shut, a deep scowl painting his features as he tried to dissect this newest bit of information.
“Then…then you’re just here to try and use me against Sensei. That’s stupid he’ll kill you when he comes for me and…and you can’t even keep me here I’ll…I’ll…” The boy's fingers trembled minutely.
“Hurt me too?” All Might finished gently, meeting young Shimura’s eyes. “I’ll tell you what I think, young Shigaraki. You are more than capable of hurting me, and you have threatened to do so several times in the last few minutes. But you haven’t.”.
“You…you don’t know what you’re talking about! I’m a villain! I can hurt you! You should be scared of me!” The spark of rage was back, but it was tremulous, angrier in its fear. Of what, All Might was not yet sure. Toshinori pressed on.
“I know a thing or two about real villains, young Shigaraki, and you are not one of them.”
“Yes I am! You don’t know what you’re talking about! Just because you’re some big shot hero you—“
All Might cut him off, soft tone silencing the boy almost immediately. “Real villains hurt not because they can, but because they want to. They hurt people because it makes them happy. In fact, I can prove that you aren’t a villain.” All Might was grateful for the fact that Tsukauchi had to take a call, because he would kill him for this. But he’d committed to saving people’s hearts, too.
Slowly, Toshinori turned his back to the child on the bed, closing his eyes. “If you’re a real villain, young Shigaraki, then show me. I can’t defend myself right now, and you’ve already said you are a villain.” A moment passed. Toshinori prayed he was right. Another moment. Then, breaking the thick silence of the room, a sniff. Then another choked noise that sounded suspiciously like a sob. He turned around again to find young Shigaraki, one hand rapidly withdrawing from where the back of Toshinori’s neck would have been, curling into himself, tears beginning to leak out of the corners of his eyes.
“You…I-I’ll…” Unable to finish the threat, the boy's lips clamped shut as he desperately fought back the tears.
“See? It doesn’t look like you’re a villain to me.” Tomura was shaking, red eyes turning up to meet blue with defiant desperation.
“But I…I killed them. All of them. A-and it wasn’t a villain, it was me.” There was an odd, twisted parody of triumph on his face, jagged and painful. All Might’s blood turned to ice. An entire family murdered in their home with no sign of a break in, the bodies so decomposed that they seemed to have been there a month, not discovered the night of when a neighbor called the police upon hearing screaming. A lone missing survivor. They boy’s odd fidgeting pattern. “You-you can’t tell me I’m not a villain! I…I’m supposed to hurt people!” Shigaraki finished with a defiant snarl. For a moment the only noise was the boy’s rough breathing.
“Did you want to hurt them?”
Tomura gulped, lips trembling. “That doesn’t matter…Sensei said—“
“I don’t want to know what your Sensei said, young Shigaraki. I want to know if you wanted to hurt them.” The boy’s fists were clenched, one pinky sticking out to the side.
“I…I thought it was a villain. I didn’t mean…only D-dad. But not like…I didn’t mean to…”
“Then you’re not a villain. And I’m so sorry that nobody saved you then.” Tomura stared at him, open mouthed, eyes blown wide, so terribly young. Then, like a puppet with its strings cut, he slumped down, face buried in the pillow that only just muffled the heartbreaking sobs being wrenched from his small frame. Then, he watched the pillow begin to crumble away into ash, young Shigaraki’s head hitting the mattress with a soft thump, momentarily stunning him out of his crying to stare at All Might, frozen, as if waiting for a blow. It would never come. Not from Toshinori.
Ever so cautiously he stood, moving down to sit at the end of the bed and holding out an arm. Shigaraki, snot trailing down his face, muddied with ash and tears, looked between All Might and the decayed pillow, searching his face for fear, for disgust, for anger, but instead finding something he’d forgotten the name of, and in a flurry of clumsy, gangly limbs, he collided with the former’s chest, crumbling into new sobs.
Toshinori held him close, an anchor as Shimura Tenko mourned. He couldn’t bring himself to say that it was alright, that everything was better because he was here. He knew it wasn’t. Maybe it wouldn’t be for some time. But it could be again. And that’s what mattered.
When Tsukauchi came back to Shimura’s hospital room, he was met with the sight of a particularly grim All Might cradling the sleeping boy to his chest, the look in his eyes showing both the weight of the world, and the determination to carry it before it crushed the young life in his arms. Yet, meeting Tsukauchi’s gaze, Toshinori smiled.
___________________________
To say that everything was perfect was a gross misrepresentation of Toshinori’s introduction to parenthood. Sure, he read every book he could get his hands on about parenting. He went to seminars, counseling, family counseling, and watched videos. He even asked Endeavor for parenting advice, though the man gave him a look that could curdle milk and suggested boarding school, so Toshinori didn’t ask him again. Mrs. Todoroki, on the other hand, recommended an excellent private day school where her eldest three attended when he ran into her at the grocery store. It still confused Toshinori how such a lovely woman ended up married to Endeavor, not that he was in the position to judge Endeavor’s temper seeing as he knew first hand the stress of hero work, but still…they seemed like, well, fire and ice. Toshinori also couldn’t quite smother the spark of pride that rose internally at the thought that dad jokes came naturally to him.
Not that he thought Tomura, Tomura, not Tenko, he reminded himself, had to see him as a father figure or anything, he was perfectly happy just to offer a safe place where the boy could heal and grow! So Toshinori bought a house in a neighborhood instead of a high rise, baby–proofed said house triple checking that it met every standard Tomura’s social workers set, not that he would use that terminology anywhere near Tomura’s hearing. The boy’s temper was, to be frank, a legendary sight. And he despised any indication that he was helpless, young, or weak. But there were times when Toshinori could see the child he still was. Tomura liked butterflies, grumbling that Toshinori was dumb while informing him with equal excitement that they totally liquified before becoming butterflies. He had a sweet tooth to rival Toshinori’s, and the first time he saw the boy smile was when he stopped to get them ice cream cones on the way home from Tomura’s mandated appointments with a child psychologist. Interestingly enough, he also had a way with animals, and Toshinori had glanced out the window one morning to see him carefully touching noses with a stray cat that wandered into their backyard.
There were also more blunders than he could count. They did not go out much, as Tomura’s quirk control slipped more often than not when he was upset, or, sadly enough, when he was excited. An unfortunate incident involving a new pair of bright red new shoes had proved that. It was the only other time Tomura had seemed close to tears, though he adamantly refused to tell Toshinori the reason why he’d specifically asked for them in the first place. It had taken a week, but after another helpful tip off from one Rei Todoroki, he’d managed to find a second pair in Tomura’s size.
The shoe incident was also the tipping point to convince Tomura to try the soft archery gloves recommended by his quirk specialist to help improve not just his writing, but his quality of life in general. When he thought nobody was looking, Toshinori caught him gently grabbing various objects or petting that same persistent stray cat, with all five fingers, a fascinated, tiny smile pulling at his lips. Toshinori felt as if he was walking a dangerous line where his new charge’s quirk was concerned. In no way did he want Tomura to fear his quirk more than he already did, but he could not deny that it was both dangerous and very powerful. Powerful enough to cause patches of his own skin to flake away, irritated and raw in a rare display of quirk-based eczema that had required specialized cream for his hands and face once a day. Tomura could not live normally, so to speak, until his control improved, but he could not improve his control without extensive quirk counseling, and Toshinori was dismayed to find that the boy had started to display resistance when asked to use it. However, he consistently reminded himself that these things took time, and so he contented himself with the small victories.
But, staring at the picture that Tomura was holding, plucked from an upper level of the living room bookshelf, Toshinori could not help but think that he might have messed up again.
___________________________
Tomura was…confused. A lot of things confused him, these days, and despite devoting all the brainpower an eight year old could spare, he could not unconfuse himself. It confused him that the police had not yet come to lock him in jail. It confused him that the woman he had to talk with twice a week told him that he was “processing,” and that it was okay to be mad about the bad things that happened as long as he wasn’t mad at himself. Sensei had said something similar, but he had said that the bad things were because Tomura was not doing what his quirk was meant to do before, and so that’s why his skin itched and he was so angry at himself. Tomura was born to be a villain. (Sensei said so, so it had to be true?) Tomura was not a villain. (Yagi said that, and wouldn’t a hero know?) Sensei said that he had saved him. Yagi said that he had saved him. Tomura was confused.
Sensei had not come. It had been three months, the leaves were starting to change colors, and Sensei had not come. But Yagi cooked pancakes in the mornings, and Tomura liked pancakes. And he sang, horribly, in English , while he was doing it, but he never hit Tomura for laughing at him from around the kitchen corner. Dad didn’t like being laughed at. But Yagi didn’t seem to mind. Yagi had a nice laugh. Sensei didn’t laugh at all. Tomura was confused.
The anger Sensei had carefully curated in him had faded somewhat. Tomura was tired of being angry. He wasn’t sure if he knew how to not be angry anymore. But the lady had said it was okay, and that he could learn about being happy again. She said his family wouldn’t want him to be mad all the time. Tomura wasn’t so sure. Dad would want him to be mad, but then again, Dad was always mad, and always wanted everyone to agree with him. But Mom had liked roses. And his sister…they were going to be heroes, together, before Tomura became a villain (was he one?). And Izuku…he wasn’t sure if Izuku in his stupid red shoes knew how to be angry. Tomura had tried, at first, turning one of their action figures to dust, but Izuku had just hugged him, careless of the fingers that could end his life, and declared, “ accidents happen, that’s what Mama said, we can just share this one! ” Then he’d started to cry, and Tomura resolved to be angry enough for both of them. But Yagi sat with him and watched cartoon Endeavor get beat by cartoon All Might when he couldn’t sleep at night. Tomura was glad the anger was going away, even if he was scared what would happen when it was all gone. He was still confused, but he liked it when Yagi threw an arm around him and laughed when he said Endeavor looked like he had to poop.
Tomura expected to be confused by this point, but he did not expect to find a picture of his grandmother on Yagi’s bookshelf. A young woman with dark hair and a hero costume, arm looped about Yagi in his own hero costume. Suddenly he was six again, sneaking into his father’s study with his sister. Footsteps behind him sounded out Yagi’s presence, and he had to fight the instinctive urge to cower, to explain. Whirling about, Tomura searched up for the anger that was so easy to grab, but only found confusion. How did Yagi know his grandmother?
“Who…how did you know my Grandma? Dad didn’t even know grandma. How did you know her?” Yagi looked nervous.
“Well you see, young Shigaraki, she was, she was my own mentor. She taught me how to be a hero.” Tomura stared. Yagi didn’t talk about being a hero much. Tomura didn’t ask much, either.
“Oh. What was…what was she like?” What did she do to make Dad hate heroes so much? To hate her? Yagi walked over to take the picture gently from Tomura’s hands, sitting down heavily on the couch. He was smiling, a little sadly, but mostly in the way that he looked at the sky on windy days.
“Her name was Nana Shimura. And she was one of the greatest heroes in the world. She was kind, smart, and generous. She could even teach someone like me to be a hero.” Tomura followed his guardian to the couch, plopping curiously on the other end. “She was the one who told me it was just as important to save people’s hearts, not just their lives. And she fought to make sure everyone had a chance to smile without fear for her whole life. Even…even if that meant she sacrificed some of the things that would have given her the same joy she fought to protect for others.”
Tomura frowned. “Was that my Dad?” Yagi nodded.
“Yes. That was your Dad. Villains like to hurt heroes where they have no protection, and that often comes through hurting family members. She was the best hero, so naturally, the worst villains would try to hurt anyone she loved. So she gave up your father so that he could never be hurt because of her.”
Tomura nodded slowly, thinking hard. “So…she knew it would make her sad but she did it anyway so other people could be happy.”
Yagi looked up from the photo, smiling at Tomura. “Yes, she did. Even if it meant she did not get to meet you, I know she wouldn’t regret it since it means you have the chance to live a happy life, Tomura. She already loved you. But I think she would have liked you, too.”
Tomura wrinkled his nose, drawing his legs up to sit more comfortably in his favorite nook. “I don’t think she knew I was born. I only know about her because I found it in a drawer in Dad’s office.”
Yagi chuckled, not bothered by Tomura’s admission of guilt. He never seemed bothered, even when Tomura tried to give him reasons to get angry. Tried to make him snap in a way that made sense. Even Sensei had buttons. Especially Sensei. “I don’t know if she ever checked up on your family from afar. But even if she didn’t, I knew Shimura Nana well enough to know that she hoped to have a grandson like you someday. It’s one of the things that kept her going even when things were hard. To build a better world for you.”
“I guess she does sound cool…but you’re not that old Yagi. And you’re not a lot younger than she was. What happened to her?” Yagi’s hands tightened around the frame, his eyes growing distant for a moment.
“She died, fighting a villain that wanted more than anything to destroy every ideal she cherished. Everything, and everyone she held dear. She defended them to her last breath.”
Something bothered Tomura about the story, making the hairs on the back of his neck rise in an unease he couldn’t quite place. But the sadness welling up in the bottom of his heart was both new and terribly familiar.
“Oh…” Yagi shook his head, visibly pulling a smile back onto his face.
“I like to remember her as the woman who laughed at my terrible attempts at baking, threw a better right hook than anyone I have ever met, and was kind enough to make anyone feel at home.” A mischievous light flitted across his eyes. “And as someone who was quite the prankster, if she thought I was getting too gloomy.”
Tomura nodded slowly. She sounded…fun. Like someone he wished he could have met. “I think…I think I would have liked her too.”
“I know she would have liked you, Shigaraki Tomura.” You’re Shigaraki Tomura, now. Make the world mourn for what it’s done. Make it all crumble away. Take your time, I’ll be right here…. He could still hear Sensei’s voice, smooth and oily in his mind. His eyes drifted down to his hands. They didn’t itch. Yagi had refilled his cream that morning. And the stray cat was letting him pet it now. He didn’t think he wanted to turn the world to ash. Not anymore. Was he still a villain? He’d wanted to be a hero, once, before he decided that real heroes didn’t exist. Did they? He looked back at Shimura Nana’s face. The words were out before he could second guess them.
“T-Tenko. I want you to call me Tenko. Shim-Shimura Tenko.” Yagi’s eyebrows rose in surprise as he set down the old photo, but there was warmth in his voice.
“I think I can do that, Shimura Tenko.”
________________________
The room next to his was empty. It contained exactly one twin bed, one set of drawers, and a lamp. And it was empty. There were lots of things about Izuku’s new home that made him sad. There were no windows in his bedroom, just the star lamp Kurogiri bought. He was only allowed to wander the upper levels, but he couldn’t go outside without someone with him. He hadn’t seen Dad in months since he’d gone on a business trip. Mama wasn’t coming back. The floors were always cold, and he could never get warm. And the room next to his was empty. And it was supposed to be Ten-Tomura’s.
Mama had always said if he was scared he could call a hero, just in case she couldn’t get there fast enough. She’d never told him what to do if a hero didn’t save him. Did he need saving? He wasn’t so sure. The whole evening had been a blur of panic, and Kurogiri had said they had to go, that bad people had broken into their house. But then All Might was there and he had taken Tomura but not Izuku. Why hadn’t he taken Izuku, too? All Might saved people. Did that mean Tomura needed saving but Izuku didn’t?
It wasn’t fair. Sure, Tomura was grumpy, but he played with Izuku sometimes. And he let Izuku slip into his bed at night when he had a bad dream, even if he wouldn’t share the blankets. It had made things hurt just a little less in the months since he’d come to live with Dad now that Mama was gone. Now he played hero by himself. Izuku made sure to save every single one of the stuffed animals that adorned his bed. He’d still be a hero…but it had been months and All Might hadn’t brought Tomura back. He wasn’t so sure if he wanted to be like All Might anymore.