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“Izuku,” Midoriya’s mom said, breaking the awkward silence that had surrounded them at the dinner table, her voice taking on a sickeningly sweet tone as she turned to her son. “It’s getting a bit late. Why don’t you head to bed?”
Out of the corner of his eye, Shouta saw his student freeze, his chopsticks halfway between the plate and his mouth, holding the last remnants of his meal. Izuku raised his head a few centimeters and looked to his teacher for instruction, which he’d been doing all day. Ever since that morning when they told Izuku’s mother that the UA teacher would be joining them. She obviously didn’t like it and it grated on her more and more each time Izuku inferred that Shouta was the one in charge. Shouta gave the slightest of nods to his student, ignoring the dark aura that surrounded the teen’s mother when he did so. It had been a long, stressful day for the teen and it would be better if he weren’t present for the “discussion” the two adults were about to have.
With his teacher’s permission, Izuku scooted his chair away from the table, the legs of his chair making a screeching sound as they dragged across the linoleum floor, and stood up. Then, after apprehensively looking between the two grown-ups, he hurried to his room, closing the door behind him. Shouta watched his student until the teen was out of sight, his eyes lingering on the nameplate hanging on the door, swinging in its spot after having been disturbed by the kid.
He knew why the kid’s mother had sent Izuku away. How could he not? As a hero, he was trained to notice things and Izuku’s mom hadn’t exactly been subtle. All throughout the day, Shouta and Izuku’s mom had been at each other’s throats over what Izuku needed. Whether or not he needed to have someone with him while he visited his mom. Or if that someone had to keep eyeing her like she was a bomb two seconds from exploding. And did Shouta really have to put himself between Izuku and his mom every time she tried to hug him without giving a warning?
Occasionally, the women would make snide remarks about Shouta’s appearance or distasteful comments about him using his students to “get off”. Shouta paid no mind to her words. He’d been called worse. But after a while, every time she spoke, Izuku would cringe and send his teacher an apologetic look.
Shouta knew they’d need to come to an agreement over the whole ordeal, for Izuku’s sake, but didn’t feel they’d get anywhere if he were the one to start their conversation, so he remained silent and waited for the woman to speak.
“I can take care of my boy all by myself,” Izuku’s mom said at last. Shouta could almost hear the danger in her voice. It was like poison being injected directly into his veins, quickly running its course through the rest of his body, his breaths becoming short. It was terrifying. And for a second, Shouta’s mind back in time to when he was a kid, standing in the living room, his own mother glaring down at him, demanding that he tell her where he’d been the last two hours. Shouta inhaled and called his thoughts back to the present before he lost his composure.
“I’m sure you can,” he replied cooly, still staring at the door. “And you’ve raised a remarkable kid. I’ve seen many children from better homes exhibit less promise than Izuku does.” Shouta mentally took note of the way Izuku’s mom reacted when he said ‘better homes’. Clenched fists and a sharp frown told him she really didn’t believe Izuku had been abused by her husband. She actually thought the kid had grown up in a happy home. That Izuku was lying about Hisashi.
“Then you’ll have no problem leaving him to me,” Inko snapped. It was obvious to the man that she was struggling to keep her voice at a reasonable volume. “Go back to whatever bridge you live under and stop interfering in my son’s private life.”
“No,” Shouta said, turning to face her with a hardened glare. “I can’t leave Izuku here now.” Not with you.
“Why not?” Inko argued. “Hisashi - the man you claim has been hurting Izuku ‘without cause’ -” she put air quotes around the phrase to show her stance on the subject “-is already locked up. He won’t be able to come home anytime soon. So why do you have to shadow Izuku like this? Why now and not when you people arrested my husband?”
“You hit him with a frying pan,” Shouta replied bluntly. For any reasonable person, that would be plenty of reason to stay close by.
“So? I told you I apologized,” she retorted, being an unreasonable person. “He’s gotten worse injuries since starting at UA. Or have you forgotten exactly how his right hand got those scars?”
“Those were the result of him being unable to control his quirk,” Shouta responded, sticking to logic instead of feelings and hoping the woman would understand. Hoping that some part of her tiny brain still worked. “It would’ve happened regardless of which hero school he chose to attend.” He paused and pushed away his empty plate. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on the table, fingers intertwined, and studied the woman sitting opposite him. “Tell me why you don’t believe Izuku.”
Midoriya Inko glared at him. “That’s none of your business.”
“It is, actually,” Shouta changed tactics, forcing his body to relax as he leaned back in his chair. “As a pro hero, if I see something wrong it’s my duty to try and fix it. Last week, Izuku came to me with a black eye that you gave him and said you did it because you didn’t believe your husband would hurt him.”
“I asked Hisashi about the charges,” She said through clenched teeth, her voice straining as she tried to keep it under control. “Izuku was being disobedient so Hisashi had to discipline him. Are you trying to tell me parents shouldn’t try to correct their kids’ bad behavior before they grow up to be complete assholes?”
Shouta’s eyes narrowed, his face turning into a disgusted frown. “Izuku is the exact opposite of an asshole,” he told her. “He is kind and compassionate to everyone he meets. Even people who do him harm,” he gestured to the woman, who bristled with anger. “Do you know why he never told you what that man was doing to him before?”
She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Because he made it all up.”
“Because he didn’t want to hurt you.” Shouta couldn’t figure out how his student had turned out the way he did with parents like the Midoriyas. “Izuku was willing to let that man-”
“Stop calling him that!” Izuku’s mom shot up from her seat and slammed her hands on the table hard enough to make their plates jump. Shouta didn’t react. “Hisashi is Izuku’s father! Not some stranger you can find on the street!”
“Keep your voice down!” Shouta hissed, nervously casting his eyes over to Izuku’s door, hoping that, by some mysterious power, the kid hadn’t heard them. Judging by the gap between the door and the floor, that hope was in vain. Please be okay, kid.
Izuku’s mom took a minute to calm herself. “When Izuku was diagnosed as quirkless,” she said in a more rational tone, “Hisashi took a job that required him to move to America. Then, every time he came home to visit, Izuku would treat him like a stranger. He thinks Hisashi left because of the diagnosis and is accusing him of abuse now to get back at him.”
Shouta returned his attention to the woman and studied her silently. Her eyes were the same color as Izuku’s and held the same determination. But unlike her son, there was no warmth in the woman’s green orbs. “Do you really think Izuku would do that?”
“I know he would.”
As soon as those four words left her mouth, Shouta knew what he had to do.
“Then he’s coming with me,” he said, standing up and walking to the kid’s room, closely followed by the kid’s mother. “We’ll come back sometime tomorrow. After you’ve had time to cool down.” He knocked twice on the door before twisting the knob and pushing it open, saying, “Izuku, pack your stuff. We’re leaving.”
“ My son isn’t going anywhere!” The woman shouted. Shouta briefly glanced at the woman, seeing how she placed herself in the hallway so her body took up most of the space, then looked at his student to gauge his reaction. Izuku sat on his bed, pressed against the wall with an All Might plushie clutched to his chest as he looked uncertainly between Shouta and his mother. His body shook ever-so-slightly. It wasn’t enough to be obvious, but it was still concerning.
“We’ll come back tomorrow,” Shouta assured the two greenette’s. Despite what he was doing, he didn’t want to tear the family apart. “Pack,” he told Izuku in a voice he hoped was as gentle as he was trying to be. The teen scooted to the edge of his bed, but his mother’s harsh voice stopped him before his feet could touch the floor.
“Stay right there, Izuku!” She demanded then turned to Shouta and jabbed a finger at his chest. “You can come back tomorrow!”
“I’m not leaving without him,” Shouta wanted so badly to smack the woman across her face and dug the nail of his thumb into his forefinger to keep himself in check. Izuku already had to listen to the woman who raised him to yell about how he ‘deserved’ to be hurt. He didn’t need Shouta to shout too. Even if he was trying to keep the kid safe.
“Well, I’m not about to let you take him with you,” The woman countered. “Izuku is not spending the night in some dingey alley with you!”
“He’s n-not homeless, Mom,” Izuku spoke up, eyes cast downward. It was the first thing the kid had said in hours.
“You shut up!” The woman yelled, turning her anger on her son. Izuku gasped and flinched heavily, curling in on himself as he hid his face behind his All Might toy. “All you’ve done today is take his side!”
“Don’t talk to him like that!” Shouta roared back at her, all thoughts of keeping a calm voice for Izuku vanishing the moment the woman turned on her son.
“I am his mother !” Midoriya argued, turning back to the man. “I can talk to him however I want!”
“No, you ca–!”
Shouta’s words were cut off by the back of the woman’s hand as it struck him across the face with a resounding SMACK! that sent the three of them into stunned silence. Then, being the first to recover, Shouta grabbed the woman’s arm, twisted her around so she was facing away from him, and pushed her up against the wall beside the doorframe. Despite his forcefulness, he was careful not to cause her any injury. He took a breath to ground himself and turned his head to look at his student, who sat wide-eyed and tense on the edge of his bed.
“Izuku,” Shouta said, once again forcing himself to keep his voice low. “Get your things and go to my car. I’ll be out shortly.”
“Don’t you dare- Mmmph!” Shouta grabbed the woman’s head and mushed her face against the wall so the rest of her sentence was unintelligible. Then, to Izuku,
“Hurry.”
Izuku’s eyes flickered uncertainly between the two adults before nervously getting off his bed, grabbing his backpack, and stuffing everything he’d need for an overnight trip inside. Shouta watched him carefully place the All Might plush in last, zip up the bag, and pull the straps over his shoulders. Izuku shuffled through the doorway, pausing for a moment as, his eyes fearful and his breaths short, he turned to face his mother. Shouta could only imagine what the look the woman gave her son was by the way Izuku inhaled sharply, turning away and rushing out the front door. As soon as he was sure Izuku was gone, Shouta leaned forward so his mouth was inches from the woman’s ear.
“You can call the police if you want,” he snarled menacingly. The woman tensed, confirming his assumption that she was planning to do exactly that. “Tell them I’ve kidnapped your son. But after they do some investigating, they’ll inevitably side with me. If you keep trying to stop me from protecting that kid, the next time you see him will be through the glass windows in the visiting room of Musutafu penitentiary - if you ever see him again.”
Shouta let her go and took a step back. He watched her intensely as she turned to face him, leaning her back against the wall and gingerly holding her arm where Shouta had grabbed her. But she made no move to go after Izuku. And although she was still glaring at him with more hatred than Shouta thought was possible for a single human to possess, he no longer felt like he needed to physically try to keep her away from his student. “We’ll be back when Izuku feels safe,” he said before turning and walking to the door.
“Go to hell,” she called after his retreating back. Besides glancing over his shoulder, Shouta didn’t respond. He was out of the apartment before the woman could do anything to make him angrier than he already was. He stormed down the three flights of stairs to his car, fuming the whole way. The nerve of that woman! Was she blind as well as stupid? He barely noted seeing Izuku in the passenger seat of his car before he opened the driver’s side door and got in, slamming it shut more forcefully than he should have, eliciting a startled cry from his charge.
The man turned to Izuku, an apology on his lips, only to stop when he saw the way the teen clutched his backpack close to his chest. It was the same way he’d held the All Might plushie in his room. Izuku was on the verge of a panic attack and Shouta wasn’t helping things. It pained him to admit it, but he couldn’t help Izuku if he didn’t calm down himself. So he faced forward, grasped the steering wheel with both hands, left on ten and right on two, closed his eyes, and made himself breathe. In. Hold. Out. Repeat. In. Hold. Out. Repeat. Then, when he was sure he wasn’t about to blow up at the poor kid, he opened his eyes again and turned to Izuku.
Izuku had his eyes closed and he seemed to be trying to follow Shouta’s example. His body was shaking more visibly than when they were inside. Sensing that Izuku was fighting a losing battle, Shouta slowly reached over and softly tugged on the yellow backpack. Immediately, Izuku gasped, jumping in fright as he located the origin of the disturbance. His eyes landed on Shouta’s hand and traced the arm to his face. Shouta held up his hands in a placating gesture, then bit by bit, he reached for the bag again. It took some time for his fingers to find the zipper and even more time to finagle it open with one hand. but once the gap was wide enough, he reached inside and pulled out the plush he knew was in there. Izuku watched with wide eyes as Shouta held it out for him. For a second, Shouta was afraid the kid wouldn’t take it. But then Izuku grasped it with trembling hands and pulled it to his chest and Shouta let go.
“You alright?” He asked a few minutes later. Izuku tensed up, trying not to look at Shouta. After a second, he nodded. Shouta frowned. “Is there . . . someone else you’d rather stay with?” He asked. Maybe it would be best if Izuku stayed with someone he was more comfortable with. All Might would certainly be alright with letting Izuku stay over. Or he could stay with Hizashi. The two blonds were amazing with younger people. As opposed to Shouta, who was good with no people.
This time, Izuku took in a breath as if he were going to say something. But he stopped before any sounds left him. Several more seconds passed between them before Izuku slowly began to shake his head. It was a thoughtful action. Izuku wasn’t doing it to spare Shouta’s feelings.
“Okay,” Shouta said with a solemn nod. He pulled his car keys out of his pocket and started the engine. Casting one last concerned look Izuku’s way, he put the vehicle in reverse and got them on their way.
The drive was quiet, neither occupant making a sound. Shouta didn’t feel like talking and Izuku seemed to be lost in thought, so the only noises that accompanied them as they went to Shouta’s apartment were the sounds of other cars as they passed and, five minutes from their destination, the soft pitter-patter of rain hitting the windshield. Then they arrived, exited the car, and Izuku followed his teacher to the man’s apartment.
“I’m sorry,” Izuku said when they reached the door, his voice almost too quietly to be heard. Shouta, in the middle of opening the door, stopped and turned to the teen, confused. Izuku met his eyes for a moment before the viridian ones shifted to Shouta’s cheek where his mother had struck him. Shouta sighed, slumping just slightly.
“I’ll be fine,” he insisted, entering his home. “This isn’t the first time I’ve been hit, you know.”
“It’s not her fault,” Izuku responded carefully as he trailed behind the man, removing his shoes in the entryway before entering the main area. “I- I forgot to tell her that you’d be coming with. She doesn’t like change. This . . .” his voice faded. “It’s my fault.”
Shouta studied him, trying not to let his disbelief show. There was something very wrong in the way the teen had said that. Excusing someone else’s bad behavior came so naturally to the kid. Too naturally. If Midoriya Inko hadn’t taught Izuku to behave this way, then she didn’t get in the way of the people that did.
“Come on,” Shouta said, gesturing for the kid to head for the guest room. Whatever his mother did to him could wait until some other time. For now, Shouta’s first and only priority was Izuku. “Let’s get your stuff put away,” Shouta said, leading the teen deeper into the apartment to the room Izuku had stayed in a few weeks ago.
He pushed opened the door for Izuku and stepped aside as the kid entered, walking to the bed and placing his bag on top of it. The All Might plush, Shouta noticed, stayed in Izuku’s arms. The teen glanced around the room at the bare walls, a forlorn look casting a shadow across his usually bright face. It was unnerving for Shouta to see his student like that, and it pained him to know he’d seen that same look many times since Midoriya Hisashi’s arrest. And over half those times had been from today alone.
Shouta pursed his lips, following the kid’s gaze as he tried to figure out why the room would be bothersome to the teen. Then his eyes fell on the little All Might plush Izuku still held close to his heart and felt himself sigh inwardly.
“Do you want me to plaster All Might’s face all over the walls?” He asked, thinking about how much he’d hate to ruin his reputation by buying enough merchandise to cover every inch of the room, but knowing he’d do it anyway if his Problem Child asked him to. “Might make it feel more like home?”
“You don’t have to,” Izuku mumbled gloomily, shifting away from Shouta.
“I know I don’t have to,” Shouta replied, rolling his eyes dramatically, even though the kid couldn’t see them, since he was staring at his feet. “But do you want me to?” He took a few measured steps closer to Izuku, stopping the moment the teen’s body tensed up. “This room is yours for as long as you need it.”
There was silence for a long minute.
“I- I want-” Izuku faltered, his voice cracking. “I want-” His shoulders drooped and he released a breath. “I don’t know what I want.”
Shouta frowned and tentatively put a hand on the boy’s shoulder, trying his best to be gentle. “You don’t have to know right away,” he said, his voice soft. “Or ever. Just take it one day at a time. Okay?”
Shouta figured his words would be met with a half shrug or maybe a noncommittal, single-syllable grunt. But instead, Izuku turned to him and launched himself at Shouta, all but trying to bury himself in the man’s chest. Shouta gasped in surprise, momentarily stunned. It was normally him who initiated physical contact with the teen, not the other way around.
“What did I do wrong!?” Izuku cried as Shouta wrapped his arms around him. “Why doesn’t she love me anymore!?”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Shouta said with conviction, holding Izuku a little tighter and running his fingers through the green curls. “And she does love you.”
Izuku shook his head, rubbing his face against the fabric of Shouta’s shirt. “No, she doesn’t! You didn’t see her face! She hates me!”
“Izuku,” Shouta started to try and assure the boy that his mother still loved him (why else would she insist on him staying with her and not his teacher who looked like he could barely take care of himself?), only to stop short when a thought struck him. Izuku was having a bad day. He was probably brimming with more emotions than he should have to deal with at his age. His life had changed drastically over the span of a couple of months. He was confused and hurt and scared. He didn’t need Shouta to tell him that his mom still loved him. He needed a distraction. Something to take his mind off of recent events.
“Let’s watch a movie,” Shouta suggested, still holding Izuku close to his chest. “Mic’s been trying to get me to watch this old western movie for ages.” He tilted his head to the side and looked down to catch Izuku’s eye. “Whaddya say? I’ll pull out all the junk food I have - which is, admittedly, not much - and we can just sit on the couch for an hour or two doing nothing at all.”
Izuku peered up at him for a second, his eyes red from crying, and nodded.
“Alright,” Shouta smiled a genuine smile and pulled away from the embrace. He took Izuku’s hand and brought the teen out of the guest room and over to the couch, getting him and his plushie settled with a blanket. “I’ll be right back,” he promised before heading to the kitchen and gathering everything Hizashi had left the last time he stayed over.
When he returned to Izuku, he had a half-full bag of Salt & Vinegar chips, two Dr. Peppers, a bag of M&M’s, and four twinkies, which he put on the coffee table before getting the movie ready on the tv. Then he grabbed the remote and fell onto the couch next to Izuku. Izuku glanced over at Shouta, then awkwardly shifted in his seat. Shouta let out a fond sigh and held out his arm in invitation. “Come here.”
Izuku hesitated for maybe half a second. Then scooted closer to his teacher and pressed himself into the man’s side. Shouta felt himself smiling again, his heart-warming in his chest as he helped his kid get comfortable.
“Ready to see what horrific thing Present Mic watches when he’s alone?” He asked, jokingly, when they were all set. Izuku blessed him with a small smile that warmed Shouta’s heart even further and nodded.
Shouta started the movie, only slightly concerned about how willing he was to do anything for Izuku to smile at him again.