Chapter Text
Izuku wasn’t sure what to make of the situation he had gotten himself into. Or rather forcefully put in with no other choice really. He was familiar with the fact that sometimes there was simply no other way to escape certain predicaments but this was borderline ridiculous.
“This is your room from now on,” Aizawa stood by an open door gesturing for Izuku to come in as if this was normal. As if nothing was amiss and Izuku should just accept where he landed.
“A whole room to myself? I’m flattered. Would have thought you’d keep me on a tight leash to make sure I don’t run off or something,” Izuku wasn’t sure where it was coming from. He was grateful to have a home. A proper home, one that didn’t lack adults, one that made sure there would be food on the table. But he was confused, bitter and other emotions Izuku didn’t have time to analyse and make sense of. Not when he was thrown into this particular situation with no prior warning and no say in the decision either.
“Izuku-”
“Sorry- that was- that was uncalled for, thank you,” Izuku just rushed into the room not looking at Aizawa or Present Mic- Yamada, behind him and sat on the bed. Thankfully it was put by the wall obscured from the view of the door so he wouldn’t see the adults who were now his legal guardians- parents.
It was hard to wrap his mind around. The fact that Aizawa and Yamada had adopted him. It was a mere week after the raid, had been let out of the hospital early this morning. Izuku had been healing on the very day he’d woken up which was two days ago, but they wanted to keep him for longer just in case they said. For whatever reason.
And yet so much happened in those two days. A logical ruse as Aizawa had explained. He was called lucky they said. Initially as a vigilante, more so a villain, he had taken to call himself Akatani Mikumo- a boy his age who had died a few years earlier to suicide. Put in the same predicament as Izuku initially. Quirkless. But Izuku had developed a quirk and Akatani hadn’t.
Despite that. Izuku had taken his name to conceal his identity and that apparently had been a fortunate choice as it helped to cover up all of his misdeeds and illegal activities that other people would be put in prison for. Instead, they proclaimed Yami dead on the scene- attributed to Akatani Mikumo and he, Midoriya Izuku had never done anything bad in his life.
They said he was lucky. Izuku didn’t feel lucky.
Instead, Aizawa and Yamada had stepped up using their pro-hero emergency adoption license, which put Izuku in their care right away. He wasn’t fully, hundred per cent adopted but from what he understood it was only a matter of time until he was. Not that he had any say in whether that happened or not.
He should feel happy. That he had a chance to get out of his messed up life and start a new one. But- but he couldn’t make himself to be. Couldn’t relish in the chance he was given when he had tried to rob himself of that chance for the last two years. Each and every time hoping that he wouldn’t have to try again and make sense of his life. But here he was. In their apartment, in his new room, a second chance was right before him.
Was it even right? To simply pull him out with no strings attached? It didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel fair.
Knock resounded on the still-open door, Yamada peeking in with a small smile on his face.
“Hey there- this room is bare sans the essentials, so whenever you’re up for it we can swing by your old place to gather your belongings,” Izuku blinked. Right. His old place, the small apartment he had shared with his mom for as long as he could remember. The small apartment that was bare to the point it was hard to believe someone lived there. One that had been Izuku’s home for his whole life. One that was no more.
“Okay- can we- now?” Yamada seemed surprised but smiled anyway. It was best to get over it sooner than later.
“Alright, come to the front wherever you’re ready,” And with that he disappeared, pushing the door lightly. It slowly swung, gently hitting the door frame but not closing completely. A sign that Izuku could have all the privacy he needed.
It was for the better when Izuku felt tears dripping down his cheeks. It would do no good if they saw him crying when he should be grateful to be in this position.
He didn’t sob, just let the tears stream down his face as he sat on the bed shaking.
The drive to his old apartment was quiet. It wasn’t awkward or tense but it was definitely pressing on Izuku’s nerves. He felt jittery, his leg bouncing despite trying very hard to keep it at bay. Neither Yamada nor Aizawa mentioned it, neither had they said anything about his red-rimmed eyes. Which he was grateful for.
Instead, he looked out of the window watching the city pass by. Familiar streets coming up as they neared the apartment, Izuku tore his eyes away deciding to simply stare at his own hands. He had to accept his fate. That he fucked up and landed in a situation he wasn’t sure he will be able to get out of.
Soon they were at the front of his apartment. Izuku felt awkward reaching for the hidden key the neither pro hero with him called him out on it. Instead, Izuku pushed the door open, flicking on the light.
“Welcome, to my lovely abode,” He strode inside, not bothering to take off his shoes. There was no use and the floor was dirty anyway. His last few days before the raid had put him in a weird mindset and he’d taken to trash the already messy apartment more. It was not a pretty sight.
There was stuff thrown around everywhere, splatters of blood- his- on floors and walls. When he had come home after a bad day and hadn’t cared where his bloodied hands and clothes landed.
The pro heroes certainly took note of everything. But Izuku ignored them, going mainly for his room. He kept all of his important stuff there anyway. His clothes, notes, and the few expensive possessions he had.
Wordlessly they got up to packing, only asking what he wanted to keep from things strewn around. There wasn’t much Izuku wanted from all of this. They ended up filling up only three boxes, which were mostly just clothes and a few belongings until Izuku pulled out his notebooks. The ones where he kept all his hero and eventually villain analysis on. He hadn’t used them in a while, all too preoccupied with other things. Planning, running and trying to die to name a few.
His last entry had been Shinsou for that matter. Izuku cringed to himself- he should call him. But his phone had been lost during the raid. Izuku had to wonder if Shinsou still wanted to be friends when Izuku had gone awol for the last two maybe three weeks. He felt shitty. Shinsou didn’t deserve that. He was pretty sure he missed his friend's birthday as well.
“What are these?” Yamada asked snapping Izuku’s attention back. Yamada had pointed to the notes he was holding. Aizawa pulled away from moving the boxes to the front and looked at Izuku as well, his face blank but as far as Izuku knew the underground hero was curious.
“Just some notes- I used to write these- haven’t had the time to recently, it’s uh about heroes and some villains- quirk analysis in short,”
“Oh! Am I on this?” Yamada asked excitedly his voice raising just a tad bit higher than it had been for the whole day.
Izuku felt embarrassment crawl up under his skin. “They’re not any good- but uh here, I wrote this when I was twelve I think,” He searched the pile for the thirteenth notebook and gave it to Yamada on the page open with his analysis on Present Mic.
Aizawa leaned over reading alongside Yamada whose smile started to slip off as he read further on, Aizawa’s own eyes widening. Izuku waited for the inevitable accusation to stop this silly little hobby. To stop pretending he knew any good. He waited for them to say that it was creepy, that it was invasive. He wasn’t sure why he had given the notes to them in the first place, he could have staved off the embarrassment and dread and just moved on. He could have thrown away the notes along with his other stuff, putting that past him. But sometimes inside him told him that he shouldn’t and that it was his . Something to cling to from his old life.
He waited. He waited what seemed to be forever but probably was only a few minutes until Present Mic closed the notes gently giving them back to Izuku. He clutched the notes in his hands, not daring to meet the hero's eyes.
“You have a sharp mind,” Aizawa said and that was that. Nothing else. They moved on as if it was nothing.
“That’s it?” Something stewed inside of him. Something ugly and frightening.
“Of course not, little listener! We’re just not the right people to truly appreciate the brilliant analysis that you showed here,” Yamada said smiling at him gently, getting up from the floor and dusting off his pants.
“Huh?” Izuku felt stomped. “I’m confused,” He knew he had implemented his analysis into his villain work, but it had been different.
“What about?”
“This- usually when someone sees my notes they get weirded out, telling me I’m creepy, to shut up.” It had been everyone besides Shinsou and now, Aizawa and Yamada who had told him repeatedly that his notes were disturbing. Invasion of privacy. When he didn’t listen and continued them anyway they made sure to show him with fists. Eventually, Izuku stopped bringing his notes to school or at least pulling them out in class or where his classmates would see them.
“They’re wrong kid,”
“They’re very wrong, these are truly something else. I’ve never seen someone dissect my quirk so well, pointing out things that only a selected few knew,” Izuku bit his lip. They were lying. For sure. They only said so because he was their ward now and they didn’t need a criminal running around on the streets.
Sure Aizawa and Tsukauchi had benefited from his analysis these few years, sure Aizawa had even said that he was doing good. But it wasn’t this. Wasn’t his, outright, creepy work of dissection? It wasn’t pretty. He couldn’t pretend it was. It wasn’t just general outward information on a person and their quirk- no. His notes were full of questions, invasive questions. He broke down the hero to the barest he could. Pointed out all the weaknesses and the ways one could counter the quirk and effectively harm them so the quirk would never work the same.
He had written down all the ways one could sneak up on Present Mic and damage his vocal cords so he could never possibly speak again, in turn basically ripping away his quirk. But they just brushed it off like it was okay.
Izuku didn’t know what to think.
“Is there anything else you need to pack?” Izuku was grateful that Aizawa decided to change the topic. Izuku nodded, putting away his notes. He got up and walked to his Mom's room. The only place in the whole apartment that he hadn’t dared to touch ever since she died. He only cleaned off the blood, but ever since then, the door had been shut.
The room was dusty, obviously. All of her things were there. Izuku didn’t know what to pack, what to take, what to do with it. He couldn’t take it all with him. But he didn’t want to throw it out it would feel wrong. As if he was replacing her with other people in his life. And he could never. Not after her death was his fault. He owned her at least that.
“Not sure what to take?” Yamada appeared behind him startling Izuku briefly. He didn’t mean to flinch, didn’t mean to jolt his hands raising up as if he was ready to throw a punch, legs jittery with every intention to flee.
He used to be better at concealing the flinches, the sudden urge to fight or flight. Both at once or none at all when he froze like a deer caught in headlights. And yet he flinched. Flinched hard enough for Yamada’s brows to furrow, taking a step back, giving Izuku space.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” Yamada’s voice was back to being soft as it was at the very start of the day. As it had been ever since he woke up. Like he was speaking to someone who could break at any moment. As if he was a wine glass on the brink of shattering if someone spoke too loud. Moved too quickly.
He hated that. Hated how Yamada seemed to animate his movement as he moved, that it was obvious where he was, and what he was doing. Afraid that he’d flinch again.
“It’s okay- I was lost in thoughts, you don’t have to-” Izuku promptly shut his mouth. He took a deep breath and just went to his Mom's desk, where she kept most of her possessions.
“It’s okay to need time,” Was all Yamada told him. Right, he had time now. Izuku nodded but ignored the implications. That there was something wrong with him. There wasn’t. He was fine.
Izuku ignored all of that as he went through Mom's things. He kept some legal papers that mentioned him, it would be needed eventually. Most likely. He kept the picture album they had. He kept little trinkets his mom had gathered over the years. He kept a plush Mom had bought at Izuku’s insistence when he was eight. When they had wandered around the shopping district Mom had been down because he kept getting hurt at school. Coming bruised and crying because the other kids didn’t want to play nice.
Mom had taken him out for a day at the mall and Izuku had seen the little bear plush holding a small heart in the middle. It had been pretty cheap, so Izuku puffed up pulling Mom to the store. Promptly taken out his pocket money that he had saved up in the last two months. It hadn’t been enough to buy the plush but Mom had caved in seeing his expression. Initially, she thought he wanted the small plush for himself, but once it was bought he took it and gave it to Mom. Telling her that she doesn’t have to be sad. That he’s sorry she’s sad.
Mom had burst into tears right in the middle of the store.
He knew that mom treasured that plush and had kept it in its best condition even after such a long time. Izuku took it with him. He had made Mom sad again. He had managed to kill his own mother.
There wasn’t much he could take after that. He filled one box full of Mom's things, gathering books she had on her shelves. One’s that Izuku remembered reading with her when he was young. But other than that the rest had to be given away, sold or thrown out.
Clothes, furniture stuff like that. The few things that were left of his father. He didn’t want to keep any of his things when the man hadn’t even bothered with him for his whole while. He idly wondered how Aizawa and Yamada got custody of him so fast when he was technically still with a living father. But Izuku wouldn’t be surprised if his father simply didn’t respond to calls or just signed over the custody as if was just a random check.
He would have to ask later. But not today. Not when everything was so fresh and new and Izuku had to keep himself at bay so he wouldn’t crack. But he was fine. There was nothing to cry or break down about. He was okay.
Merely an hour later they managed to put all the boxes into the car and drive back, after cleaning up the apartment a bit. The apartment was signed back to the landlord, who didn’t even bat an eye at the sudden tarnation of the contract. Other than that there was also money that Izuku had gotten illegally working with Overlauh that had been put on his desk, forgotten. It was a lot of money and sent straight over to the police. It wasn’t his money. It was illegal money so Izuku didn’t care. Not really.
He wouldn’t have to worry about money for a while. Or at least he hoped so. There were many uncertainties.
He had many questions. Too many in fact. He knew that once he started asking them there would be more. Endless streams of uncertainties. He didn’t know if he was ready to face the reality just yet. But sitting in his new room staring at the unpacked boxes didn’t grant him the clarity he longed for.
It was scary to know pretty much nothing. But then again it was just as scary thinking about the things that were kept from him. He didn’t know which one he feared more. They said ignorance is bliss, however, Izuku knew that it wasn’t the case for him. Eventually, he would find out. Even if he ran away from the answers as he had before. Things caught up to him sooner or later and it was never pretty.
And yet was it wrong to wish to be oblivious for once? He wished he could stay in the unknown for the rest of his life. But alas he was not so lucky. And it came down to it when he was called for dinner. Aizawa rapped his knuckles on his door, softly telling that dinner would be up in ten minutes. It gave him enough time to gather himself. Enough time to stop his hands from shaking, anxiety shimmering under his skin.
In ten minutes he came out of his room uncertain and yet determined. He knew that answers he didn’t wish to hear would catch up to him, and if he could help it he’d have it sooner than later. On his own terms. For once.
The dinner was a quiet affair. And Izuku knew that it was not normally the case. Present Mic- Yamada was in general a very open person, an easygoing guy and it was unsettling seeing him so quiet. It brought back anger. It made him mad that the quietness was because of him. He wouldn’t break. And he wished the grown adults who took him into their care would see that.
“What’s going to happen to me?” This is the question that broke the silence. After the dishes were cleaned uneasy tension settled in the living room. His voice had been sharp and angry.
“Depends,” Aizawa spoke, settling at a coffee table in front of the couch. He had a stack of papers with him, and a pen along with it. Was he grading papers? Izuku felt stupid for forgetting that Aizawa was a teacher along with working as a pro hero. Izuku briefly wondered what would happen to him once he finished middle school. Would he be forced to attend the U.A. to be kept under watch? Izuku dreaded the thought.
“On what?” Izuku asked settling on the couch. He looked at the cat that was napping there seemingly unbothered by the tension in the room. Aizawa had mentioned that they had a cat in their apartment, named Bastard or something.
“On you,” Yamada sighed as he came from the kitchen, carrying a cup of tea. He threw a glance at Aizawa while Izuku watched.
“That doesn’t make sense,”
“Don’t you have some grand plan for me? I would assume with how insistent you were to get me off the streets,” Aizawa stopped writing on one of the papers. It bothered Izuku. It bothered him that there was this uncertainty about his future. No matter how clean his record now was there was no way the heroes and police would let him go so easily now. Not when he knew that Hero Comission were after him as well. It didn’t make sense.
“We cannot force you to do anything you don’t want to,” Yamada tried to smile at him but his smile fell as he met Izuku’s eyes. It was silly to assume that Izuku would believe that. He was not foolish or an idiot.
“You can’t but others most certainly could,”
“Who are others?” Izuku almost scoffed at the questions.
“You tell me Eraser- the police, Hero Commission-” Izuku took note of how Aizawa shifted at the mention of his pro-hero name despite not being on duty.
“You’re not a criminal Izuku-”
“On paper, I am not,” On paper, he was just Midoriya Izuku. Just a fifteen-year-old boy getting adopted by a pair of pro heroes. But life was deceptive. On paper, many things were black and white. He was not.
Izuku looked down at his hands, they were shaking again. “I just don’t understand why am I here?” Why wasn’t he in prison? Why wasn't he getting interrogated? What about school among trivial things?
“Where do you want to be?” Izuku hiccuped feeling tears well up in his eyes. He wouldn’t cry damn it. He wouldn’t cry when he knew his answer would be six feet under.
“I-I don’t know-” He chooses to say instead. A little lie that went a long way. A little lie that he knew the heroes picked up on.
“We should figure it out together shouldn’t we then? What do you think little listener?” Yamada brought Izuku’s attention back from his hands to look at the two adults in the room.
“Is it really worth the effort? Am I worth the effort? Don’t you have better things to do than keeping tabs on some teenage villain?”
“You’re not a villain-” Izuku hissed under his breath, tired and angry.
“Am I not? How do you explain my actions then? How do explain all the people I’ve hurt? How do you explain in a reasonable way the way I’ve acted and the things I’ve done? Those all have been criminal illegal acts. It doesn’t make sense for me to be here out in the open, free from all my offences with no lasting consequences.” He was met with silence, with sullen faces. He had expected it. Had had known that there was nothing that could explain the situation he was in, nothing that made sense. But he had hoped. Just a little bit. He squished the hope down, there was no reason to believe that this would turn out just fine.
“Thought so,” He got up from the couch and rushed to his room. He had stuff to unpack.
“Izuku-” One of them called out for him but Izuku couldn’t care. Wouldn’t care. He knew sooner or later the whole gig would be up. Sooner or later they’ll drop the act and throw him right under a moving car. He couldn’t afford to think that there was a chance for him to live a normal life. It just didn’t work like that. He just didn’t get second chances.
As Izuku found out Shinsou was mad at him. But not in the way that Izuku had assumed.
The next day after storming back to his room Izuku had found a new phone on his desk. Miffed that one of the pro heroes had snuck into his room while he was sleeping and yet thankful as he quickly booted it up. It didn’t take long to set the phone up and put in Shinsou’s phone number glad that he had memorized it, far too paranoid of losing his old phone.
To Shinsou:
I lived bitch
this is Midoriya, got my phone smashed just got a new one
He hoped that Shinsou wouldn’t ignore a message like that. And he hadn’t immediately replied. Izuku tried not to feel bad knowing that his friend was most likely keeping his phone with himself every day, every hour just waiting for Izuku to text or call.
From Shinsou:
thank fuck
im so mad at you right now you cant even imagine
i was ready to file a missing report
To Shinsou:
im glad you care
From Shinsou:
why wouldn’t i?
Izuku stared at his phone unsure what to say. He wasn’t used to people caring. It had been weird for the last few months and it was still weird.
To Shinsou:
idk
From Shinsou:
can we meet up? at our usual place? i wanna both punch you and hug you for disappearing like that
To Shinosu:
not sure if i can go out rn
He wasn’t sure if he’d be let out, right now. Despite only being here for one full day Izuku didn’t know the rules. Didn’t know what he was allowed to do. It was nerve-wracking. Going out was definitely out of the question.
From Shinsou:
what?
why?
are you okay?
To Shinsou:
shit happened, kind of got adopted
From Shinsou:
is it eraser?
Izuku almost dropped his phone. Curse Shinsou for picking up so fast. His friend was smart after all.
To Shinsou:
if i say no will you believe me
From Shinsou:
no fucking way
Izuku groaned to himself as he read the next messages that Shinsou sent him in quick succession. Saying that he called it.
He stared down at his phone indecisive and huffed, it was now or never. He stumbled out of his room and met with Yamada in the living room tinkering with his hero equipment, Aizawa nowhere to be seen.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“You already did,” Yamada shot him a smile but prompted him to go on anyway.
“Can I go out to meet my friend?”
“Why not?” Yamada smiled at him. Izuku nodded. And yet who would have thought that leaving the villain's life behind, forcefully, didn’t erase the fact that he was prone to getting into accidents and trouble? Aizawa will not amused.