Archive of Our Own ^beta

Shouta had just sat down at the booth across from Hizashi and already the man was mid-word into a rant about the annoying, impossible miscreants that had dared to cross his path. Shouta sighed and shoved a laminated menu at his partner, letting the white noise of the cafe overtake his tired senses. He had already decided to simply get a coffee - black - and a savory sandwich to balance out the bitterness of the drink. 

Behind Hizashi, he noticed a young mother and her toddler that had just been seated. The child was strapped into a special chair so she couldn’t wander out of sight. Shouta allowed himself a smile before a whiny “HEYYyy!” caught his attention, refocusing him back on the pouting blond. 

“You really weren’t listening to a word I said, were you?! If you had, you would have scolded me for fighting someone with a deafening Quirk like I was saying , so what caught your attention?” The blond twisted and caught a glimpse of the young family behind him and smiled immediately, turning back towards his partner. “Oh, I didn’t see them! That kid’s really cute, you know, you don’t outwardly seem like the type of guy to find little kids cute but I know you’re just a softie~!” 

The Voice Hero just would not stop rambling, but this time he had a goal - make Shouta blush - which he successfully managed. Shouta sank a little in his seat and simply muttered unintelligibly to his partner. Before either hero could continue their conversation, they heard a loud shriek from behind Hizashi. 

The little girl had begun throwing a tantrum; her mother was forced to intervene and calm the girl down with little success in the endeavor. The pros flinched at the volume as the screaming child’s volume rose and rose. Their ears rang as the sound grew shriller, and their eyes screwed up in the worst moment. Bright pink light blazed over their corner of the room faster than Shouta could activate Erasure, and suddenly they both felt at least twenty times lighter. 

Opening their eyes, Shouta and Hizashi looked down and saw fur; black with white around the neck where his capture weapon had been and blond with socks of white and black splotches on Hizashi. They caught each other’s eyes and stared - they had been turned into cats . More specifically, it seemed, kittens. The little girl’s quirk had apparently manifested during her tantrum and caused a massive transfiguration affecting the men and the kid’s mother; who appeared to have turned into a massive rodent that Shouta identified as a capybara which was squeaking hysterically. 

The two Heroes-turned-cats watched as a customer phoned 119 for the police and they promptly decided to leave the area so as not to get caught up in the hectic mess of the situation; being off duty and all. The paperwork would be unbearable, not to mention the press would have a field day . They managed to escape through the back door of the cafe and squeeze out into a slim street behind the store, thanking whatever form Kami took that their clothes - and therefore all their belongings - had melded into whatever transformation had taken hold of them.

The next problem was the matter of communicating. Shouta let out an un-kittenish sigh of frustration and tried to speak to Hizashi. A grumpy “Meow!” and a low rumble releasing itself from his throat refuted the experiment - that perhaps they still had the power of speech - or so he thought. While he heard that meow, it was perfectly understood by Hizashi, who… meowed… back. 

“Well, this isn’t great!” Hizashi said clearly, the blond cat flicking his tail and ears in interest and wonder despite the harrowing situation. 

Shouta was tempted to yowl back a snarky “No shit!” but a shaky pair of hands scooped him up and the words caught in his throat. His claws extended on instinct and feebly caught against human skin. He realized that they’d been too overwhelmed by their new bodies and had made the unspeakable error of ignoring their surroundings.

The teenager holding him simply smiled, clearly on his way home from school, and held him far more gently than Shouta would have expected from a teenaged boy. The boy was rather plain looking. Freckles dotted his face and a crop of dark green hair sat on his head. His eyes were soft and expressive and seemed to hold a sadness that immediately made Shouta want to frown, or whatever the cat equivalent of expressing that feeling was. The boy’s uniform was dark and Shouta couldn’t recognize the logo. Their kidnapper was careful with them as he scooped both Heroes up one after another - noticeably using only one arm - and brought his backpack to his front, placing them both inside.

“Hey there kitties, you two look so scared. How about I bring you home and get you something to eat, something warm to lay on, huh? The landlady’s really nice about keeping pets, she actually suggested I get a cat or a puppy! Mom likes animals too, so I know she won’t mind if you two stay for a while. Oh, wait, I should see if you belong to anyone...,” the boy muttered.

Shouta felt the same Hizashi-esque headache building in his brain as had been rising at the beginning of this hellish day. He opened his eyes and the boy took that moment to reach into his bag to gently check the two cats for collars or some other form of identification. He looked a little sadder when he found none.

There was a long moment where Shouta thought: ‘Perhaps we should fight.’ Perhaps they could get themselves to UA, lay low for a while and track down the mother and child that had caused this whole thing. Hizashi meowing at the top of his lungs surprised him, but that was when Shouta realized that Hizashi couldn’t use his Quirk - and trying to force Erasure to work wasn’t going to happen either. Given that neither of them knew how to fight as cats, even though some of the instincts were available to them, he had to relent and allow himself to be tucked into the backpack. Hizashi was less alarmed, much more pliant to being manhandled, and actually seemed quite relieved. 

“You poor things, you must be strays… I’ll check with a vet just in case though, maybe you’re just chipped and you’re not allowed to run outside!” This boy’s fluctuation between optimism and pessimism was giving Hizashi a headache now and Shouta watched, absolutely befuddled, as the other man simply curled into a ball around a pencil case and closed his eyes to take a nap. Shouta himself didn’t trust this kid as far as he could claw him so he stayed awake, keen ears and eyes trained on any indication the boy didn’t mean what he said. Shouta wasn’t big enough to drag a half-asleep Hizashi out of the bag and carry him away from the danger, so he’d sound the alarm and hopefully wake Hizashi up with enough haste that they could make their escape.

The teenager simply walked on none the wiser to Shouta’s growing list of concerns. The kid walked with a bit of a limp, which Shouta noted as it could mean the possibility of escape later .

When he saw the train station and knew it was now or never. Shouta tried as hard as he could, but Hizashi wouldn’t wake up no matter how loud Shouta screamed in his ears and he was too… too loyal to his partner. It was unconscionable to leave Hizashi behind; they’d once made a promise in that effect shortly after - after they’d had to leave Oboro behind. So Shouta watched with a heavy heart as they boarded the train, knowing that they could be going farther than their small bodies could cross, away from safety to an unknown location.

Ignorant to Shouta’s minor meltdown, their unwitting kidnapper sat himself on the train with the zipper of his backpack open so that the kittens could breathe. The kid seemed to hunch in on himself when others boarded and even flinched away when Shouta poked his head from the backpack and noticed older teenagers further down the train car, wearing a similar colored uniform to the one the boy wore. 

Other than the flinch, though, the kid was left alone. Shouta couldn’t help but note the way the teenager had curled his body around his pack, and therefore the two kittens, in a discreet way of protecting the kittens inside from being jostled or hurt. There was something about the way that the kid was holding himself, that screamed he’d rather get hurt than the Heroes, that made Shouta’s distrust fade minutely. Maybe their kidnapper wasn’t so terrible - maybe he really was just a lonely kid that took in strays. Shouta could begrudgingly understand that; almost all of his and Hizashi’s cats had at one point been strays.

The train ride followed with no incident, which allowed Shouta to sit with his thoughts. Soon he came to the conclusion that in trying to force Erasure on, he’d overwhelmed his eyes. They were heavy and ached something horrible - way worse than usual. So Shouta sank back down, pressed his head against Hizashi’s back and made one more pitiful sound to try and wake his partner. Before Shouta could stop himself, the sweet embrace of exhaustion hit - and his tiny, stupid, kitten body collapsed in the bag.

What could have been minutes or hours later, Shouta awoke to the sound of a door closing. He panicked for about half a minute, not remembering what had happened or where he was, until he saw that he was still curled around Hizashi, who was still asleep. Immediately, Shouta’s memories of the past few hours rushed back to him. His partner made an adorable kitten, not that Shouta would ever admit it. Shouta really hated this Quirk, but… he was a cat person. He couldn’t help it.

Shouta heard the boy greet his mother and Hizashi moved as the bag opened up. The soft light of the apartment made him blink and he tried for a gritty “Hey…” at being disturbed, but of course it came out as a squeak. The kind face of a woman who really could only be the teenager’s mother gazed down at him, and he had barely a second to process being picked up before she had her hand on his head and oh. He liked this woman. Her hands were gentle as they stroked his head and back, and her voice was soothing like a softly trickling fountain in a rock garden.

Her hand stopped and the calm he had felt faded with it. Shouta was mortified . Being caressed was as unexpected as his reaction was and he tried to speak up again, finally turning his full attention to the conversation the woman was having with her son.

“Izuku, sweetheart, you can keep them until we can get them to the vet in a week or so, alright? I’m sorry, but I just can’t afford to go any sooner. Hopefully their owner - if they have one - can wait. And in the meantime you can have friends! We can share the responsibility, but you must tell me if you feed them so that we don’t fatten them up too much,” the woman giggled. 

Her son, now revealed to be called Izuku, nodded eagerly and clutched his backpack tighter. Hizashi woke up and found that being squished against a notebook was not his favorite wake up call. He mewed to Shouta but did not receive an answer, so he peeked up out of the bag as well. 

Izuku picked him up and took the black kitten from his mother.

“I’m going to bring you to the kotatsu. It’s getting chilly here and I don’t want either of you two to suffer for it,” the boy murmured. 

He was so gentle with the kittens as he walked to the living area and placed them half under the blanket of the dark green kotatsu. The kittens instinctively curled into each other to soak in the warmth. Shouta noted the sad way Izuku smiled down at them and hesitated before getting under the kotatsu as well, cradling one arm a little closer, as if it was sensitive to touch.

Izuku’s mother brought over bowls of shredded fish for the kittens and a plate of fish, vegetables, and rice, along with a small bowl of miso soup for her son. She kissed the boy’s forehead before moving to the kitchen to get her own serving and sat down with her son.

The kittens lapped at their fish half-heartedly while unashamedly listening in on the kid and his mother’s conversation about how his school day went. Shouta was especially curious about the child that had picked them up. He still didn’t entirely trust the kid, and wanted to know more about this place they’d be staying in for the time being. 

After he’d woken up, Hizashi had pointed out that if they stayed with the kid until the Quirk wore off or they got an opportunity to make a break for it, they’d be fed and have shelter. They couldn’t guarantee nearly as much for themselves if they tried to live like strays - and heaven forbid the men get picked up by Animal Control, or someone even worse. Turning back while stuffed in a cage was not something either of them wanted to experience.

“Izuku? How was school today? You used to come home and ramble to me about something every day, is everything okay?” The mother worried. She was a kind person, Shouta decided, and definitely not the source of the teen’s timidness. He relaxed further as the kid spoke up.

The boy looked ashamed as he finished chewing his bite of fish and nodded. “‘M fine Kaa-san, sorry I worried you. Just wasn’t a particularly interesting day today,” but then he seemed to brighten and looked up with a gleam of excitement. “Oh, but I caught a sighting of a hero fight today! I was a street or two away, so I wasn’t in any danger,” he seemed to rush to reassure his mother and pressed on. “The villain had a stopwatch quirk! He could hit a person and make them pause whatever they were doing! It was really scary but then Hawks swooped in out of nowhere and knocked him out! And I think… Mom, I think I saw two of my favorite Heroes on my way home! They were at a cafe across the street from the train station, and they were off duty, but I know I saw them this time!”

Shouta and Hizashi looked at each other and blinked slowly. Surely this kid didn’t mean-

“And who did you see, Izuku? The way you’re going on, you caught a rare sighting of an Underground hero!” The woman laughed and ate another bite of rice without paying much attention to the look on her son’s face. Shouta, though, saw his face brighten and prepared himself for the outburst.

“But Mom, I think I did see an Underground hero! I’m pretty sure I saw Eraserhead! And I saw a blond man with him, and I think it was Present Mic! They went to school together, they work at UA together too! Remember? I wrote a report on Eraserhead as a class project about Underground Heroes and the benefits and drawbacks of going dark when you burst into the Hero scene, so of course I recognized him! Mom, you have to believe me,” Izuku rambled, eyes wide and bright smile glistening.

Shouta would not have believed it but the boy looked like an actual kicked puppy when he begged his mother to believe him. To her credit, her eyes widened and she immediately reached over the table and put her hand over his to reassure her son. 

“That’s incredible! Were you going to get his autograph? I feel sad that you can’t get his autograph at a signing since he’s underground, and we can’t afford to go to the really popular signings for Present Mic and the other spotlight Heroes,” she said, almost as enthusiastic as her son’s radiant excitement.

“I wish! I was trying to head right home. I know you have a shift tonight so I wanted to eat dinner with you. I like having these meals together,” Izuku said shyly. 

He seemed to curl in on himself as soon as his burst of confidence died, and Shouta was filled with the perplexing urge to climb into his lap and purr; the Hero’s instinct to protect and shelter rising and mixing with the new animal instincts within him. He didn’t want the boy to cry.

The woman looked at her watch and sighed, appearing to realize the time. It was clear to both Heroes that she didn’t like it either, but her duty to her job was just as fierce as her son’s passion for Heroes. Where the boy’s father was should have stayed a mystery, private to the people who had kindly taken the two into their home, but Hizashi had a reckless kind of curiosity that overtook all rationality - and he’d been chattering about the kid being ‘adoptable’ for the last five minutes. Hizashi also wanted to explore their new… temporary living situation.

Which meant Shouta in all his everlasting patience with his husband’s antics was, of course, simply dragged along for the ride. He had no choice in the matter.

The family dinner came to an abrupt halt after that and the woman scooted closer to stroke Shouta’s head once more before pulling her son into a tight hug, seemingly oblivious to the way he stilled and flinched as one of his arms started shaking. To the two Pros, though, these were messages clear as day. 

Izuku, their unwitting savior, was hurt.

‘Alright,’ Shouta thought, ‘Maybe finding out the kid’s deal was actually important this time. But Hizashi can’t know that I agree with his recklessness-’

As Izuku’s mother got up and left the evening chores to her son, the two kittens had a few minutes of privacy to talk freely for the first time since arriving at the home, and Shouta’s inner musings were interrupted.

“The kid’s a saint, honestly. Seems to get it from his mom. Speaking of which, where’s his dad? Anyways, I like him! I wonder what his Quirk is? Empathy? Brains? Some kind of mental thing? He looks up to you which really gives us an idea-” Hizashi immediately rambled. Sounding, of course, like a kitten who simply wouldn’t shut up and immediately annoying Shouta.

Shouta put a paw - a damned paw what the hell was this day - over his partner’s mouth to cut off the rant. “He’s hurt, Hizashi. Something is wrong and we ought to get to the bottom of this. The benefit of masquerading as kittens, I suppose… built in excuse. I wonder how long it will last…” Shouta trailed off, realizing only now that perhaps sticking around for the aftermath of their transformation would have been beneficial. There might not have been anything to find out, but sometimes the Quirk analysts had preliminary findings that could be useful.

The sound of a door closing and footsteps coming closer had Shouta falling quiet, choosing to try to groom himself in an attempt at playing off his many noises. It was better to let Hizashi take his iconic role of a loud blond, even in kitten form. The boy walked back to them and Shouta’s light gray eyes widened at the sight. Seemingly feeling more secure after his mother left the apartment, the kid had changed his clothes and was wearing a short sleeve shirt - which revealed a multitude of injuries.

The boy was riddled with burns, white, tight scars in burst patterns that covered his arms like fucked up freckles and even speckled over his collarbone too. Initially they looked to be years old, with some blending into his skin, but that fleeting - kinder - thought that the kid only had old scars was quickly debunked. The teen’s right arm had bright red skin blistering and puffing up angrily as if making an outcry upon the Heroes’ kidnapper.

‘Perhaps he was being abused,’ Shouta’s mind whirled with possibilities; immediate assumptions based off of what he could see. ‘Could this be why the father wasn’t in the picture? Had he done this to his son, and more importantly, was it still happening? And if so, how hard can cats bite? Maybe an infected bite could ward off further abuse.’ His mind wandered then, spinning a tale from the initial assumption.

The world had previously been rocked by accusations against Endeavor by one of his sons, only for the rumors to be silenced, no charges ever officially filed. The man’s youngest bore scars of abuse; everyone assumed that the man had lost his patience with his then-five year old son and burnt half his face. Young Shouto had left the public eye ever since, with only brief moments of him appearing alongside his father in public revealing that he was still alive.

In a moment of extreme irrationality that could be blamed on his partner’s influence and his mental overload at everything the day had thrown at them, Shouta’s brain leapt. Perhaps Endeavor was the boy’s father, but in secret? A secret love-child?

Shouta batted at his face with his paw to clear his brain from that horrible thought. No way in hell. Bad assumption. Whatever the reality was had to be more rational than… that .

Hizashi had, in the meantime, sidled up to Izuku and purred at the top of his lungs. Snuggling the kid was a good way of calming down, it seemed, and Shouta considered coming closer to do so.

“You two look sleepy. I’m glad you had your supper, do you want to sleep or come hang out with me? I’ve gotta get my chores done and finish up my homework but I promise I’m good company,” Izuku chuckled. He picked Hizashi up first as Shouta leapt onto the surface of the kotatsu and stared him down, hoping that the intelligence and curiosity was plain to see.

“Okay then. You can walk with us, my room is just over here. I have to clean up after supper and sweep before my homework calls me,” Izuku grimaced, a gesture that both heroes were familiar with, and the three slipped into the kitchen. Shouta followed, leaping from the floor to a step stool and then onto the counter. As they had before, his new instincts took over and he snacked on a little of the leftover fish the kid and his mother had prepared for their dinners. “Oh! No, kitty, you can’t eat that! It’s been out for a couple of hours and you’re so little, you could get sick!” The boy fretted, waving Hizashi in his other hand about like a ferret.

Shouta sneezed a laugh and simply gave the kid a look , hoping it read as lovingly exasperated, then leapt into a cupboard to watch the kid. Hizashi was set on the kitchen table instead.

The boy mumbled as he cleaned. It took some getting used to, but Shouta and Hizashi were listening close enough to understand what he was saying. His movements were rigid, as if he was all stiff muscles and pain, and Shouta wished he was human again so he could take this kid into his arms and-

Where that impulse came from, yet again the Hero had no idea. 

...He could blame Hizashi. He smiled to himself. He’d blame his partner for that.

It took another half hour for Izuku’s chores to be done, with the two kittens perched nearby at all times. Then, once they were retrieved to sprawl on the boy’s ridiculously comfy futon, Izuku sat at his desk to complete his homework. The two Heroes were impressed at how quickly the boy got his homework for the upcoming week done, but were also confused when he placed the notebook into what looked like a fireproof sleeve for flame Quirked civilians. Hizashi’s ear twitched in excitement, and it was clear that he was thinking that maybe the kid had a fire Quirk. Shouta… was not yet so convinced.

The boy looked impossibly drained and sad as he opened his computer and typed a short email - to whom, neither of the men knew, due to their position and the angle the laptop was at. Afterwards, without a word or a sound, Izuku simply got up, looked around reflexively and then took off his shirt and pants to change. The two Heroes looked away and closed their eyes to respect the kid’s privacy, but had they decided to look they would have seen more fresh burns littered over Izuku’s torso where the shirt had covered. The boy walked out to bathe quickly and the Heroes opened their eyes, Hizashi mewling in distress when he saw the blood and smelled the muted scent of burnt flesh on the boy’s clothes. It had been covered up by what seemed to be a very strong puff of minty body spray but the smell was clearly noticeable to the heightened senses of the two cats.

“You called it! The little listener is hurt! We gotta do something when we’re human again! There’s gotta be something! Shou!” Hizashi wailed, his distressed chirruping coming at a higher register than anything Shouta could manage. And of course the underground hero agreed, but he was stuck on what to do about it.

Before he could reply - for fuck’s sake, this was becoming a damned pattern - Izuku was back, clothed for sleep and locking the door to his room, yet another oddity noted by the two heroes. The boy glanced at his laptop, sighed and closed it before getting into his futon and gently scooping the kittens up to put on his chest.

“I hope you’re happier now that you’re somewhere good and warm. I know I would be. Sleep well,” the boy spoke softly and began to doze off. He had turned on a small radio that started playing the relaxing tunes of late night Put Your Hands Up radio, which Hizashi was clearly happy about as his tail wriggled about frantically.

Before Shouta could plot with Hizashi about what to do, another wave of exhaustion caught up to him. After the insanity of their day and his near-constant insomnia it was no wonder he was this tired, but he hadn’t expected to be allowed into the comfortable embrace of sleep. Thankfully, he was apparently not an insomniac as a cat, it seemed, having less resistance to sleep in this smaller form. Before he knew it, he was curling up with Hizashi and drifting off. The last thing he felt was Hizashi curling around him - and the other kitten was big enough to do so comfortably - and his partner’s small nose touched the side of his head as if kissing him goodnight.

The next day went by relatively quickly. Izuku woke up early, placed his new pets on the futon as gently as handling a newborn child, and cooked breakfast for himself. He spent the whole day getting things together for the kittens, including a training pad to the two heroes’ utter mortification.

They tried for as long as they could to hold out, but unfortunately the stupid plastic thing did eventually see some use. The two of them agreed shortly after that if it became necessary, the other would vacate the room immediately to keep up the facade of privacy. It was horrifying, doing their business on what amounted to the goddamned floor , but their tiny bodies simply couldn’t help it. The transformation was absolute in some ways and made it nearly impossible to resist the majority of their feline instincts.

Between the embarrassment and the tasty treats they were periodically given, little bits of leftover fish from breakfast and then lunch with Izuku’s mother once she got home, the two Heroes had time to plot ways of figuring out what was going on with the teenager and, more importantly, how to intervene if there was an active threat. Hizashi decided his theory was that Izuku was being hurt by someone out of the house, and so it was his job to sneak into the kid’s backpack the following morning when he went to school to check for bullying or abuse. Shouta, on the other hand, would investigate the house and see if there was anything on the missing father-figure of the household, following that lead. Chances were that Izuku’s mother had some kind of record or keepsake regarding the man, given that two days had passed and Izuku’s father was still nowhere to be seen. Shouta seemed to have a really bad feeling that he wanted to shake, and Hizashi was just happy that his husband was willing to go along with his harebrained schemes this time.

So, the next day, Hizashi stowed himself away. It wasn’t that difficult as a cat and being smushed in strange places was kind of a job hazard, so he bore the discomfort for Izuku’s commute to school without making a sound of complaint.

As time went on, Hizashi started to notice a pattern in the kid’s footfalls. Whenever the boy felt that anyone had come too close - which, upon poking his nose out of the bag to look, apparently meant within five feet of him - he would stop suddenly or step back. A particular moment that he would report back to Shouta was when Izuku saw a clique of similarly dressed girls and flinched back hard enough to jostle his backpack, unknowingly threatening Hizashi with being crushed by a schoolbook. Once the train ride was over, the Pro Hero assumed the danger had stayed with it. Not to be, though, as Izuku seemed to get more and more tense and terrified the sooner the duo got to Izuku’s school. Hizashi clawed the zipper from the inside enough to make a larger gap to look through and saw the name “Aldera Junior High” prominently displayed. He kept his eyes open for any other signs of danger, but eventually had to cease and claw the zipper closed lest he get discovered.

And so the day began with Izuku at his desk, absently reaching into his bag for his things, and every time Hizashi would scoot whatever he seemed to need to his hand with his head or paws while staying out of reach. He heard many horrible things in just the first hour while undercover at the school. Enough to make him want to change back into a human and bust some heads for the kid, or maybe scream until he ruptured eardrums and made people bleed . It was the least he could do for this scarred, damaged child.

The evidence so far clearly identified Izuku’s teachers as incompetent and downright neglectful, contributing to a toxic environment to teaching children, and no child was spared some kind of long lasting trauma. They fostered a standard, professional learning environment only to the children they preferred - children with loud, prominent Quirks who would undoubtedly be hindered later in life by false beliefs of their own superiority. Izuku’s homeroom teacher seemed to be particularly cruel and declared to his clearly hostile class that the child had decided to try for UA as well as an aggressive blond boy, causing the other students to laugh at him. How Hizashi longed to just change back and shout at the man without his Quirk; he could do enough damage to the sorry excuse for a teacher’s reputation without it.

A strange popping sound and a full body flinch from Izuku warned Hizashi that whatever he was about to witness would probably answer the questions that Shouta had, so with morbid determination he nestled further into the bag and quietly poked his nose out. The smell of caramel - the same noxious burning sugar scent that permeated his little listener’s clothes - solidified the evidence and he lifted his entire head out of the bag silently. Since all the bags were on the ground next to their owner’s chairs and everyone was fixed on the unfolding scene, Hizashi went unseen as he watched the angry blond boy stomp over to Izuku’s desk and ignite the wood.

Hizashi was no slouch and had gotten excellent marks at UA in his and Shouta’s day, and so immediately recognized the explosive Quirk for what it was. The smell indicated a glycerin of some kind, so this bully was probably using the substance somehow created by his body and igniting it with his hands to scare and cow Izuku into submission. The kitten let out a soft hiss that thankfully went unnoticed in the class’s cheers from a larger explosion; the blond this time grabbing Izuku by the collar and yanking him up to face him directly. The angry blond proclaimed that he would be the only one to enter UA and succeed and that “Deku” had no place trying to join him.

‘What a load of catshit,’ Hizashi thought with rising anger, as he witnessed the teacher simply sit back and tell Izuku, the one being bullied damnit , that he ought to settle down or risk his grade for the day. At the rebuke, Hizashi watched with wide, wet eyes as Izuku went entirely motionless and glassy eyed, trying to disassociate and distance himself from whatever might happen.

It was at this moment when Hizashi helplessly watched on as the blond - Izuku called him “Kacchan” - grabbed Izuku by the throat and ignited his hand to get the smaller boy to stop talking to him. Hizashi felt sick as the rest of the class simply ignored the excessive bullying that was going on, putting out of their mind that the moment that “Kacchan” walked away Izuku reached for his throat and gasped silently, his eyes watering.

The Pro Hero had never felt so helpless. He wanted to break his cover and climb into the kid’s lap and just lay there, letting the kid pet him and cuddle him for as long as he needed. This little listener needed a Hero, and clearly had for a long time.

But he didn’t have to worry anymore. Because thankfully, he’d found two.

Meanwhile at Izuku’s residence and their temporary home, Shouta was getting busy. For most kittens this would mean making as much mischief as possible, but for the Hero it meant navigating the house. The kid was diligent, setting out food and water dishes for both of the Heroes, and locking the door before leaving.

Shouta needed to write some emails - and fast . So, using the lifetime habit of just not being bothered with less important things, he ignored how his stomach suddenly screamed for the kitty kibble and water. No, instead he focused on climbing up Izuku’s desk, clawing the laptop open and pouncing carefully against the top to lift it enough to use, but not too far so as to break it. Somehow, the brilliant child didn’t have the foresight to use a password and his email account was the last thing opened. For a moment, Shouta considered looking at whatever email had made the kid sad last night, but decided against it. He instead used his nose and paws to open a new browser and clumsily log into his own email address, then he wrote a short email by dashing across the keys and sent it to Nedzu, with CCs in it to Detective Tsukauchi and Hizashi’s co-executive at the radio show.

In it, he explained their situation. How he and Hizashi had gone on a damned date on their one fucking synchronized day off in goddamned weeks and got hit with a Quirk that turned them into animals. Finishing with a formal request for the next seven-to-fourteen days off, since a week or two would probably be the time limit for a Quirk manifestation accident to wear off, he shut that browser down and wiped his presence off of the kid’s laptop. Now that his work was done, he did some digging. Starting with the email from the prior night.

He felt no shame initially, pulling up the last email the kid sent, but his heart sank into his stomach the more he read. After reading and then staring into space for exactly three minutes and twenty seven seconds, he closed the laptop by leaping onto the lid and shutting it with his body weight, quietly despairing the information he had come by. 

The kid was writing emails to his father, telling him of his day and asking for a reply. Each of the emails he had noted in the sidebar were marked by a red exclamation point and a notice that the recipient did not exist in the system, despite the email address being registered.

So the man was completely out of the picture. There was clearly no contact with his own damned kid, so probably no luck with the mom either. Still, Shouta wasn’t going to give in quite so readily and he leapt down to the floor and padded out of the room. Izuku’s mom, who had told the kittens to call her Mama but they had heard her referred to as Inko by a passing neighbor earlier, was still asleep after her night shift at the hospital and Shouta was easily able to creep silently past her.

He went to the living room and explored what he had seen on their way in. A small cabinet had been converted into a family library of sorts. It was full of family photos and certificates, including Inko’s nursing degree and Izuku’s first day of school, and was a veritable treasure trove of information - he learned that their family name was Midoriya, for instance. What made Shouta stop short was the lack of a Quirk certificate. There was one for Midoriya Inko and another blank spot which could be assumed was for the husband who wasn’t around, but there was no spot for Izuku. Every child at the age of manifestation is registered so that their government records can be checked against opportunities in their lives. Schools, colleges, jobs.. you had to have your Quirk registered in order to succeed in life. It was an unspoken rule of society; those who had no Quirk or the documentation to prove it... 

Quirkless people just couldn’t make it in the system that had been designed.

With that dark thought and a new theory forming, Shouta chose to move on; leaping onto the nook and pawing through pictures until he found a small picture frame tucked into the very back. In the frame was a younger and slightly slimmer Inko holding newborn Izuku, being embraced by a tall, light haired, freckled man behind them, all smiling brightly to the camera.

There were no other pictures with the man in them. Sure, that could be explained in some of the earlier pictures that the father was the one taking them, but once Izuku hit preschool age the pictures started being of only the child or had some kind of selfie-like formatting to allow his mother in too. Shouta would have been more concerned, but clearly Izuku was getting by well enough without his father. Or, well, at least it seemed as such. So he searched endlessly for any other scrap of evidence, pictures or documents or anything at all that could point to the kid’s troubling situation with those injuries. 

Sure, as a human he could just ask , but the point was that at this moment - in this small, fragile kitten form - he just couldn’t do much at all. The few upsides to this tiny, inefficient body meant that clandestine operations such as this just came… naturally. Every leap was silent, just like how he prided himself on walking, running, and even jumping as quietly as humanly possible for his job. Every breath was so much softer than he had ever heard himself, which as a human would help to mask his presence, but as a cat practically negated any trace of his existence.

For a few minutes as he darted through the house, the human residing within none the wiser. He almost found himself disappointed that the transformation would inevitably be undone, by nothing but time. Shouta was thankful that Hizashi wasn’t around or else his partner would have noticed his demeanor shift from elated to resigned to determined.

This kitten was going to enjoy every single moment as such.

Plus… getting petted - what an instant serotonin boost - and doted on for once in his miserable life was kind of fantastic. Oh yes, Eraserhead could get used to this. But he wasn’t to be stalled by that feeling for long. 

He and Hizashi had jobs and had a role to fill in this kid’s life once they were human again. They had ways they could help, without needing to sneak or subterfuge their way into the kid’s life. Heroes can’t rest; not when their life depends on being alert and aware with every second, when civilian lives depend on their ever constant scrutiny. The child who had adopted them, who had opened his heart to two pitiful strays and plucked them off the street, was one of those civilians. They had a duty to help, in whatever way possible - and for now, acting as kittens and sleuthing this way was the best way forward.

His resolve hardened, Shouta decided the best place to get information was the kid’s own room - at least until Hizashi returned with whatever unpleasant revelations he had to share.

At last, however, the front door opened. The kid was back, and that meant their information-seeking operation had to be put on hold in favor of behaving like the kittens they appeared to be. Shouta was a bit annoyed; after he’d exhausted every lead available, investigated every dead end, and had only just realized that he should have investigated the kid’s room first thing , that was when the kid happened to show up?

Really, this couldn’t keep happening!

Reuniting with Hizashi was another matter altogether. The blond kitten wriggled out of Izuku’s bag after the boy himself left it unattended in his room, and even with a feline face and body language, Shouta knew that something was different.

Something had changed.

Hizashi had found something. And, with the slouch of his back and the slit of his eyes, it clearly wasn’t anything good.

Hizashi Yamada was pissed the hell off. His fur and tail stood on end, his ears laid flat against his skull, and he was furious.

He had kept himself completely hidden through the school day and had witnessed more bullying and prejudice in the past eight hours than he had experienced first hand in his entire career. The kid - Izuku - put up with so much, and yet was still smiling! This middle schooler put up with more than enough to push him towards villainy and still acted so damned good .

Hizashi had witnessed - and felt - Izuku getting pushed, shoved, tripped, smacked, and burned from those damned explosions throughout the school day. The teachers either turned a blind eye or scolded the green haired child for disrupting class, and it took nearly everything in the man not to pounce from his hiding place and start scratching out eyes, or screaming like a banshee.

Hell, Izuku even got sent to the principal’s office for supposedly starting a fight that one of the angry blond’s friends had begun! He was the victim here, and yet Hizashi had to listen to a snobby voice haughtily gloating that “Midoriya would never get into UA with this on his record! UA doesn’t take problem children who start fights,” and heard the sound of paper being filed away. That would have been the death knell for any dream the teenager had, and the way Izuku had cried after hearing that had broken the Hero’s heart.

In the face of outright bigotry being thrown around, it just made Hizashi more determined that if the two kitten-heroes had anything to do with it, Izuku would be getting into UA. Maybe on scholarship, or at the very least, would be guaranteed by a recommendation from the both of them. A little known fact was that recommendation by a Pro Hero would count even higher than student records, and if Nedzu happened to be clued in about the brilliance this kid held in his brain, there was no keeping Izuku from becoming whatever he wanted to be.

And the kid’s mind! Hizashi nearly meowed aloud from shock when he saw how quickly the kid worked in the classroom, breaking down algebraic formulas within minutes and spending the rest of the period encoding a notebook that was clearly precious to him. While he wanted to introduce Izuku to Nedzu, the Pro had held back a shiver as the cold thought of what Nedzu might turn this precious green bean into. No, the world had enough problems with just one chaotic hyper-intelligent mastermind stirring up trouble for fun.

Izuku had broken down algebra, biology, Japanese history, composition, even English classes with the same efficiency and each time, he would reach into his backpack on autopilot. He would grab a fireproof sleeve - more like blast proof, Hizashi had realized - to put his work in. Only then did he feel safe enough to begin scribbling away in his prized notebook that was labeled “Hero Analysis For The Future”. The kid spent the whole day ignoring protests and jeers and even moving away from grasping hands eager to swipe the journal to the floor or destroy it somehow. Hizashi remembered hearing the sound of angry blond’s Quirk activating and poked his head up in time to witness the kid reach for the notebook with a sick fervor.

All of this and more was relayed in hisses and quiet fury to his partner once they reunited and Hizashi had his anger broken by the simply hilarious sight of Shouta’s fur suddenly puffing on end as the other kitten’s eyes glowed bright, somehow able to still use his Quirk as he hissed and spat like, well, a cat.

“When we’re done with that school, there will be nothing- hrk!” Shouta had been cut off by the kid picking him up by the scruff and petting him, murmuring soothing sweetness that of course the kid thought he had to do. It wasn’t him they were upset at, of course, but their human didn’t know that.

“Shhh, I’m sorry I left you two all day, I had school. I’m sorry, I’ll try to be back a little earlier tomorrow,” Izuku was saying as he scratched the black kitten’s head in an attempt to get his temporary pet to relax. The kid sniffled and snuggled the kitten close even though his right arm was clearly in a lot of pain and ached so badly from an injury that had occurred as he scurried home. There was also a fresh burn as well as slowly forming bruises on Izuku’s throat that seemed to throb painfully.

Hizashi, ever the insolent brat, was not to be outdone as he nimbly evaded the places that smelled burnt and wrong on the child and curled into a ball on Izuku’s lap, purring and kneading in a way that was meant to show affection and comfort. It seemed to work and was especially appreciated given how relaxed Izuku became with the two kittens comfortably tucked on his body.

“Really. I’m s-sorry. I’ll get you two some nice fish as a treat for waiting and being good today. Kittens can be dangerous when left unsupervised, but you two were either really, really good or so naughty I can’t see what you’ve damaged,” Izuku joked sweetly, although the way his eyes swept from the sofa and chair legs to the rug by the kitchen sink held real concern that somehow, the two little cats had been nuisances and scratched or destroyed something in his absence.

Izuku sighed in relief and brightened, standing up with the kittens now relocated safely to his arms. “Speaking of treats… Mom? Are you home?” he called to the apartment at large, met with a soft answering sound as his mother entered the living room from her bedroom.

The evening that followed seemed like a rinse-repeat of the previous ones, with Mrs. Midoriya cooking dinner for herself and her son to share and listening to Izuku recount an incredibly diluted version of his day. Izuku had played off the bruise on his throat as “Oh, just a Phys. Ed. game that had gone wrong, someone threw a ball at me and the bruise just hasn’t gone away yet!”

After Inko left for her job, Izuku once more fulfilled his chores for the evening. The only difference between this evening and the previous ones was that almost immediately after his chores were done, the boy grabbed a large and unfortunately well stocked first aid kit to patch himself up. Burn cream gently coated his shoulders, arms, and neck while painkillers were taken with sips of water. Bandages were wrapped around bruises, and he assessed the worst injury the two heroes had seen yet on the kid. Izuku’s right arm was swollen at the elbow, and both heroes had enough field experience to recognize muscle injuries from the subtle signs - Shouta winced in sympathy when Izuku braced himself and wrapped the swelling with compression bindings.

It was hard to watch the kid cry in pain and hug himself after all his injuries were treated, and the kittens curled up with Izuku and took turns butting their little heads against his stomach or hands, purring like they were trying to impersonate lawnmowers. The teen clearly needed support and wouldn’t ask his mom for it, for whatever reason, and with the revelations from earlier he didn’t have any friends to ask either.

So as his pets, temporary as it was, they would fulfill that role. Giving the child comfort was the least they could do. Hizashi even shed a tear and mewled softly, communicating to his partner that “I wish I could just give him a hug, the poor green bean deserves so much love and affection.”

Which was definitely a shared sentiment.

Even if Shouta was not yet ready to admit how emotionally attached he was.

(He was ready, he would say to his husband that night, to admit that he had occasionally thought of Izuku as theirs , during this espionage, as a precious child in need of protection. ‘Like a son,’ Hizashi had agreed. The two of them were in agreement - their kid deserves good things.)

Little did they know, their time together was ending.

It took one more day for the kittens and the teen to quickly establish a semblance of a routine. 

They would wake, Hizashi would return to school with Izuku to get more eyewitness evidence of the abuse that was heaped upon the kid, Shouta would pretend to be a kitten while continuing to search the house for more clues, they would meet up again after the school day was over, and would settle in for a night of dinner, watching Izuku patch himself up, playing and cuddling with the kid to soothe and relax him, and falling asleep in a kitten puddle on the kid’s bed.

It was going as well as they could hope for, barring a miracle that would give all the godforsaken people in that school personality transplants. They were settled, they had plans, they figured their routine out every day and knew (relatively) what to expect.

Which meant, of course, that the routine was suddenly open to the whims of fate; to be thrown about in its wake.

The fifth day of the transformation, Shouta noticed it first. His stomach was becoming irritated at the taste of kitten kibble and he found himself sneaking bits of fish and rice more.

Then Hizashi noted that he was growing a little.

Halfway through the day, almost exactly five days to the minute from when this whole mess began, the two adults transformed very suddenly back into humans - right in the middle of the living room, on Saturday.

Shouta stared at his husband in shock - they both looked and felt quite different as humans again - and winced when Hizashi muttered, “Aw shit. ”

Since it was a rare day off for Inko, she had taken Izuku out to a park nearby to walk around and get some ice cream after making it through a week of misfortunes with no end. Which meant that the inhabitants were thankfully none the wiser as the two heroes snuck out of the house. The two men climbed to the roof of a nearby building and pulled out their phones. Both were dead, and this time it was Shouta who murmured, “Ah, fuck . Don’t suppose you have a charger?”

“Nope,” his husband replied, “But it doesn’t matter much. Cmon, we have to debrief with Nedzu.”

The Heroes scaled down the roof once more and headed off towards UA on foot, because after a cursory search of pockets and utility belts alike, neither had any money for train tickets - which made for a very amusing banter on the way back. After all, if they didn’t have their wallets, how were they going to pay their tab at that little brunch restaurant they’d met at, five days prior?

Once they arrived, they used the facial scanners at the gates and were waved onto the main lawn by the grounds staff. Nedzu let them into his office once they got into the building, and had somehow had the impossible foresight to have called Tsukauchi, Shuzenji, and Inui in advance to wait for them.

The two heroes traded a look and prepared to not only debrief their transformation but discuss the troubling case of Midoriya Izuku with not only the principal, but a handful of other helpful adults. They would have to field concerned queries of the boy’s physical health - Shuzenji - mental health and subsequent traumas - Inui - and any details about the so-called learning environment Aldera Middle School masqueraded as - an interesting, albeit unnerving, double team by Nedzu and Tsukauchi.

This… this was going to take forever.

Izuku

A few hours later in the apartment the Heroes-turned-kittens had fled, Izuku was staring blankly at the kittens’ little bed, two collars in hand as he sat on his futon.

His eyes filled with tears that he barely managed to halt as he frantically searched the apartment - not in the kitchen, not under the kotatsu, not in the bathroom or his bedroom - he even got his mom to search her room! When she walked out shaking her head, the first tears filled Izuku’s eyes.

The cats… his kittens … were gone.

His mom had to hold him for twenty minutes until he stopped crying. 

“They’re so little,” Izuku had sobbed, “If they got outside and got lost again they could get sick and die! It’s all my fault… I just started to really love them, I shouldn’t have gotten so attached! I shouldn’t have left them alone, what if one of the neighbors let them out?! They could get chased by a dog and- and-!”

Izuku whispered to his mom that he didn’t think he could go to school for a day or two, he was feeling so sick with the emotions and horrible thoughts tumbling in his head and body. Secretly, he knew that if he went to school feeling this way, Kacchan’s friends would take full advantage of his sensitive emotions. Kacchan would be even angrier than usual, that Deku had the gall to cry about something that had nothing to do with him.

And so Izuku’s mother contacted Aldera Junior High and told them that she was withdrawing her son from school for a week, giving the boy a reprieve he knew he needed.

Listening to Kacchan belittle and burn him for crying over losing kittens wasn’t his idea of a healthy recovery. He knew that somehow, with their teacher’s insistence that everything wrong in a Quirkless person’s life was of their own doing, that Kacchan and the other kids would make it out to be his own fault. He was a bad pet owner, they’d say. He shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up, they’d say.

He didn’t deserve to have friends, they’d say. 

He didn’t deserve the love those cats gave him at all.

A week turned into two weeks. Two weeks to a month.

Inko was growing more and more concerned, and Izuku retreated and retreated from her mothering - smothering - worry. He took to sitting on the roof of their building to cry, tracing the steps he had taken that day, and calling the names he had only just made up to use for them - “Kashu! Kuro?” ‘I miss you. Come home?’  - sometimes in the middle of the night, he’d sit and just watch for Heroes, or trace where he thought the stars were.

It was one of those nights when he couldn’t sleep - ‘ Too many nightmares, too many bad thoughts. Last time I tried to sleep anyway and I had a nightmare that Kacchan was drowning the kittens and mocking me that I couldn’t take care of them so they were as useless as me,’  - that the unthinkable happened.

A Pro Hero dropped onto the roof. A real, actual, proper Hero was standing near where he was sitting.

It took a moment for Izuku’s brain to catch up.

And then the figure turned, signature golden goggles gleaming in the moonlight, with a soft smile on his face.

Izuku couldn’t believe his luck. His favorite Underground Hero, the user of Erasure and the protector in darkness, sat down beside him.

Eraserhead took a long moment to assess him, and Izuku immediately knew he would come up lacking.

And then the man began to speak.

Shouta knew that leaving the kid behind was a terrible idea, and here was the proof. Hizashi had been pissed off, upset, and had nearly blown out the windows when Nedzu and Tsukauchi told them they’d need to keep their distance while evidence against the school was being collected.

So Shouta and Hizashi couldn’t drop a line to Midoriya themselves - but if Eraserhead happened to be patrolling nearby, well, what could it hurt? He was just checking in on an active case, as a Pro Hero. It was a nice workaround, and Nedzu couldn’t be angry at him for it. He wasn’t Aizawa Shouta, a concerned citizen - he had an obligation to follow through on any… potential leads.

Of course, that didn’t prepare him for the state the kid was in when he actually got close enough to see.

Midoriya looked like shit, and that was being kind.

Hizashi would promptly lose his ever-loving goddamned mind if he saw the kid like this, and Shouta immediately mentally doubled down on his resolve to keep Hizashi’s mind on the impending legal battle rather than on the kid’s health - mental and physical.

No, Hizashi could never see what had become of Izuku Midoriya after they left him.

It would destroy him , and then their windows. And he was tired of paying for more windows.

The kid wasn’t skin and bones. He wasn’t gaunt in the physical sense, it actually looked like he had been trying to keep his physical health up to the standard of excellence that UA strived for. He was developing some muscle relative to his age, his breathing sounded okay at the least, not gasping for air during a clear panic attack, more like steady inhales. The kid clearly wanted to get into UA and was willing to put in the training for it - or maybe it was years of running from bullies, learning how to pace his breathing so he wouldn’t hyperventilate and pass out on the way home. Shouta didn’t know, and frankly, he was happy with his initial assumption of the kid’s health.

Other than that bare minimum, though, the kid looked ruined.

He had fresh burns on his shoulders, and more likely hidden by his shirt. The smell of antiseptic and burn reducing cream lingered on the kid like cigarette smoke in a brothel, and there were a lot of bandages everywhere. Shouta could also smell blood and what might have been some kind of mucus somewhere, but it was Midoriya’s face that rang his mental alarm bells. 

The poor kid had this hollow shock painted on his face, like a soldier that had just come back from war - or an Underground Pro recently retrieved from deep cover somewhere haunting and horrible. Long gone were the bright yet shaking smiles, Midoriya’s eyes were dilated and wide and his breathing, though remarkably deep for the state of the trauma the kid had likely been through recently, was tremulous at best.

Shouta idly wondered to himself if perhaps the sight of an Underground Hero was too much for him - his favorite Underground Hero, his mind whispered - but there was more to this. Where once the kid would jump up and harass the Hero for an autograph, which Hizashi had witnessed from the backpack on a couple of occasions to and fro from school, Midoriya actually flinched back.

Visibly.

What… what in the seven hells had happened since he and his husband left?

Of course he’d known Midoriya was on television recently, thanks to that godforsaken sludge villain, but that couldn’t be the only reason the kid was so skittish and petrified. The kid had leapt into action without seeming to think about anything, including his own welfare, but he’d been cleared by the paramedics afterwards… hadn’t he?

Since standing around brought no answer and Shouta couldn’t actually remember any of the details from Hizashi’s retelling of the television broadcast. It was time to talk to the kid - a gentle, barely there interrogation. So using his gentlest affect, a marginally less gruff tone and sitting down so as not to corner the kid, he spoke.

“Hey there, it’s alright. Huh, it’s pretty late out. How’s the view from up here? Everything okay?”

He decided this was the best way to start - observe something obvious and subtly assess the kid the way he would for any youngster he’d see on patrol. It should offer Midoriya a chance to settle out, to recover. Maybe he’d stop shaking, if they were lucky.

“The stars are nice, aren’t they? Can’t see most of them, ‘course, but sometimes I like to stop and watch, if it’s not too busy. And this breeze is nice, rooftops are relaxing with the stars and the breeze…”

He trailed off, not expecting much from the kid - Midoriya had been watching him closely since he sat down, and hadn’t so much as squeaked once.

Maybe Nedzu was right. It might not have been such a good-

“...Eraserhead…? Is on my… roof? With me?”

The kid barely spoke above a whisper, and Shouta smiled inwardly to himself. A step forward. The kid’s wide eyes started to shine with life again.

“Eraserhead is on my roof with me…!”

Got him.

Shouta smiled outright, not the half-feral grin he usually pulled at his students to terrify them into submission, but something gentler that calmed trembling kittens and traumatized kids in his line of work.

“Yeah, it’s me, kid. In the flesh, although I know the forums like to imagine me as more like a shadow in the night.”

Midoriya finally sparkled the way he had months ago - and moved remarkably quickly for someone so injured. A notebook and red pen was thrust at him as the kid bowed his head and babbled out a plea for an autograph, and Shouta felt a buzz in his throat - a laugh, the kid made him laugh - as he scribbled his Hero name and peered at the notebook full of analysis. There was a section describing and dissecting his Quirk, his fighting style, there was even a section on his capture weapon and the relationships he had with other Pros. It was impressive, for amateur analysis, and it made his black heart warm - especially when he snuck a peek at the cover and saw that it was only journal number five out of what he knew were at least eleven or twelve notebooks.

“Here you go, this is pretty decent for an amateur. The sketch is a little crooked, and you need to update the section - you’ve seen me in person by now and you’ve gotten better at analyzing Heroes - but you’re on the right track. Plans to enter UA, then? Support track is decent, Gen Ed has an analysis pre-major… maybe even the Hero course, if you have the skill to analyze at speed and counter well enough.”

Midoriya froze at that - Shouta had been looking for tells, things that could be upsetting or indicate something wrong - and that was… surprising.

Hadn’t anyone ever told the kid he had the mind for Heroics?

“N-no, sir, maybe not… I c-can’t… be a hero. All Might said so.”

What… the fuck.

All Might said so? What kind of bullshit - nope, he had to play this out a little. Make it seem like it had just dawned on him, even though he knew the kid had a heart of gold even before that stupid slimy villain entered the picture.

“...I’ve seen you somewhere recently, haven’t I? There was a villain… you’re the kid from the Sludge Villain news cast, aren’t you? The one who came rushing in to try and save that other kid getting smothered, while my stupid-ass colleagues did fuck all to jump in themselves.”

Hizashi had told him about that newscast after a long day of teaching when Hizashi could work from home on his radio station and had the tv on in time to watch it live. He had described how All Might ran in, after Midoriya screamed at the other heroes to help him and that he was going to drown, that those same Pros were drowning his friend by standing around as they were. How with a flourish and a single punch, All Might split the heavens into rain clouds, practically vaporized the villain on the spot, and then vanished after the arrest without a trace.

How Midoriya and the other kid had been pulled aside afterwards, the other kid praised for handling the situation calmly - calmly, they’d said, despite the kid screaming and letting off sparks from his hands in his panic. How Izuku had been scolded by the same Heroes that had watched on, told off that he was reckless and stupid and should have left the situation to the Pros.

How their favorite kid had walked away with tears in his eyes as the broadcast ended.

Had All Might had an absolute lack of self awareness, a terrible slip of stupidity, and pulled the kid aside after performing a near-miracle? Had All Might had the audacity to look at the Quirkless kid and tell him off for Midoriya’s own heroic save, giving his friend a chance to breathe in time for the Number One Hero to actually get there?

Had All Might lied to Midoriya and told him that despite everything, he just couldn’t be a Pro Hero?

Midoriya nodded miserably, clearly preparing to hear yet again how foolish he was.

Time to give him a confidence boost. “Hey, I’m not All Might, kid, and I’m saying there's more than a zero chance of you getting into UA. Underground Heroics aren’t flashy and we teach courses revolving around those. Rescue Heroics require good planning as well as a bit of muscle to extract people from the scene. Even the brightest Spotlight Heroes are smart, or have teams of smart people to make them look good.

“Just because one Pro says you can’t doesn’t mean you should give it up. Especially if it’s All Might saying so. Maybe he’s scared that you’ll prove to be even better than him, and is trying to discourage you so he stays in his Number One spot longer.”

That last comment had mostly been courtesy of Hizashi, after Shouta had threatened to tear his throat out with his teeth if they had to pay for another set of windows after that particular broadcast had ended. His husband had encouraged his own frustration with All Might, and after that fantastic venting session he launched out the door to start patrol early.

The results of which stood before him gaping at the blatant disrespect shown to the Number One Hero. Midoriya looked gobsmacked, but strangely touched by the defense, and slowly shook his head as if in denial. The kid seemed to hesitate, and Shouta could smell the salty tang of tears slowly welling up and began preparing himself to soothe the sobbing child. But sobbing didn’t come, and instead, Midoriya’s voice came out quietly - halting with every other word.

“...I just wanted to help Kacchan. I just want to help everyone , however I can. Do… do you really think it’s possible for a Quirkless kid to be a hero like you?”

“ Yes. ”

Shouta spoke immediately, without thinking it through. This was an important moment for the kid, clearly, and he needed to hear the truth - the real truth, not the reality that society had impressed on him from a young age.

“It will be harder. You don’t have a Quirk to aid you in defense or in combat, nor do you have the experience that most kids have with an innate part of their bodies. What you do have is courage, perseverance, intellect and adaptability. Most people find out what their Quirks do best and limit themselves internally, only ever doing what is expected of them. You don’t have that drawback. You’re the eternal underdog, and you’ll go farther and work harder to prove yourself than anyone should have to - but you’ll find something in it that nobody else can. That sense of fulfillment and recognition within yourself is the key driving force behind every good Pro Hero, and you’re already working for it.

“But yes, kid, you can learn to be a Pro Hero. In fact, you’re already on your way.”

And Shouta would leave the rooftop knowing he relit the flame of hope back into a child who would never let it die. He would head home and fall asleep after a night of further patrolling and snooping on the community that housed that precious ember, ensuring that nobody with malice in their motives would rest that night.

Smiling on that rooftop, Midoriya bid his new favorite Hero a good night, no longer broken beyond repair.

For once, Hizashi knew that breaking things was the right way to go about this.

What he’d seen as a cat at that hell of a school, especially the first day, stuck with him like a particularly determined villain; dogged and relentless. It followed him every day since the week was up, occasionally making him have nightmares of not being able to properly save the kid - watching helplessly from a different vantage point every time, unable to speak or act. Seeing and knowing that one day long ago, the same had been his own fate - and every time, the nightmare morphed into an old memory; days spent in solitude and silence with the taunting of peers ringing through his head.

And, re-triggered, he fell back into some old habits - with some new ones rising to join the chaos. The scent of smoke now made him glance around, expecting to see a blond boy holding onto his timid classmate, those frightened viridian eyes pleading for the torment to be over. The sight of spider lilies soon made his stomach roll, and the sounds of popping and sizzling from just about anything made a fierce protective urge bubble up within his body like a vicious predator.

So it was not a surprise that he was the one spearheading the campaign to make Aldera face some consequences for the actions they permitted - the acts they’d encouraged, overtly and subtly. He would never let a child down, not if he could help it.

Obviously Nedzu was helping him; his employer had the kind of fierce kindness that Hizashi valued in his husband. Nedzu was the one who began the operation formally, able to extract security footage from outside sources until they could extract a warrant or twenty for all the evidence they would surely collect.

Another friendly face was UA’s contact with the police within the district - Detective Tsukauchi Naomasa, or True Man. Nedzu had personally put him on the case alongside Hizashi and himself, stating that a truth telling Quirk in the midst of the liars and sleazy malpractices would be an efficient resource to have.

The last face was a little less friendly, if only because she had arrived at UA’s gate requesting to meet with Nedzu by herself. A young woman who was apparently a dear friend of Tsukauchi’s sister, Miss Imamura Michiko, was a lucky break none of them had foreseen - except probably Nedzu, who knew all as far as Hizashi understood.

The reason being was twofold - for one, Miss Imamura was also connected to Aldera, if by social means only. Her once best friend was the school nurse, and Miss Imamura had a lot of information about the new Quirkist views her friend had begun raving about shortly after her employment at Aldera Junior High School began. They drifted apart soon after, with Miss Imamura beginning a fast paced job as a diagnostic intern at the local hospital and therefore having less and less time for a social life.

The other reason was her Quirk. Miss Imamura’s Quirk was a fascinating one, and a useful one in her profession. Her Quirk could easily overlay a target’s medical history - or to be more precise, it displayed in a variety of colors a full breakdown of anything that was not considered a healthy standard of living on the target of her choice. The Quirk could only list so much, stopping after about five years worth of history, but Miss Imamura was working with a trainer - and Recovery Girl was keen on meeting her too - to expand the length of time that her Quirk could list.

It was incredible. Miss Imamura had given a demonstration after Hizashi consented to the process, and after pressing their palms together a vague staticy feeling processed over his body - and he saw first a muted, almost pastel magenta on his wrist, exactly over where he’d broken his hand in two places punching a steel door two years prior. More and more colors lit up, and Miss Imamura explained that every color was unique and she got feedback right into her brain regarding when the injury occurred and what the circumstances were. She could identify only if the injury was treated or not with the pigmentation of the color, the brighter, the more concerning - bright colors meant that it was impacting the daily life of the target, which was apparent by how his throat practically glowed vivid blue from muscle strain due to Quirk use. Softer, pastel colors indicated prior treatment and resolution - thankfully a burn he’d received just a week ago had glowed a soft orange.

Naomasa had simply smiled at their enthusiasm and formally requested that Miss Imamura join the team through the police force, cutting through any red tape with ease given the nature of the case they were building.

Which… essentially was a school sanctioned abuse case.

Now they were looking into every aspect - Quirk discrimination would be the backbone of the case, but they also made sure to look at the abuse of students, falsification of educational and student records, the policies in place at Aldera, and they had their eyes fixed on heavily investigating the staff, especially after Miss Imamura’s minor bombshell within their first meeting.

Her old friend, the school nurse, wasn’t actually certified as a nurse… and had no reason or certification to be near or giving health advice to children.

That part had made Hizashi slam his head into a desk and muffle a scream, and Naomasa’s hands smacked into his face. Hizashi had privately wondered if there were going to be any school records regarding Midoriya’s injuries, had wondered why it was that Izuku had treated himself at home rather than going to a professional, and here was the reason why.

Clearly Midoriya, the poor kid, had known for a while that he just couldn’t trust the nurse with his safety.

Was it because she was incompetent? Hizashi almost hoped that was it. Was it more likely that she thought he deserved what he got from the other students? Unfortunately so. Was it even more probable that she thought that by refusing him any kind of help or resources, the problem would go away on its own?

Definitely. God, Hizashi hated this school already.

The next staff member they looked into was the principal, and he was a surprisingly new member of faculty. Some of the maintenance staff predated his hiring by a good twenty years, but the man had made a lot of changes in the short time he’d been in power.

Long gone were the days of easy camaraderie between kids of all sizes and Quirk statuses, back when Midoriya’s mother had gone to school in the area. Now there were classes that held students with loud, wild, bright Quirks with good grades, terrible peer relations, and stellar reputations alongside children with mutative Quirks or the rare Quirkless students that had terrible grades, terrible relationships, and terrible reputations - despite notes from younger grades claiming the children at being “quiet, yet friendly with others, smart - a fast track for the advanced classes!”

There were also no approved budget increases, only budget cuts to Quirk therapy and Quirk training, PE and arts, and an approval for the salary of the Principal and the Associate Principal to increase by 3% every fiscal year.

And from what Hizashi could recall, the school wasn’t exactly the bright and shining paragon of academic excellence they’d prided upon being. It was rather run down, dilapidated and crummy with signs of rust and splintered wood.

So the money was clearly going somewhere - and they all knew where.

The superintendent of the school was originally a wildcard. Naomasa and Hizashi had debated whether or not the man actually knew what was happening in one of the schools in the prefecture, and after some research by Nedzu, it became evident.

He definitely knew. 

The man’s nephew was one of Izuku’s main tormentors; a boy with large wings that looked like a bat’s that followed him around and spat a gummy, acidic liquid at the kid. Since the superintendent picked his nephew up on more than just the one-off days where his parents couldn’t, he had been caught on camera outright ignoring the bullying going on just a few short meters away or egging his nephew on, talking about how it would be healthy “Quirk practice” to assault the other student.

Nedzu also was able to discover that both the principal and superintendent lived healthily above their means, which indicated some money scheme going on, but that wasn’t relevant to the investigation so it was filed away as additional collateral, just in case. 

It took what felt like forever, and when Hizashi finally stepped into that courtroom with fire in his eyes and a prowl to his steps, he was ready to battle and win.

Nedzu

Nedzu had done this many times, and every time there was a unique thrill of enjoyment at the power he was allowed to wield.

Oh yes, there was a finesse to playing this role - the shrewd, calculating lawyer with every ability to outwit and play his opponent like a fiddle - one that he had learned many years ago. In having to defend his ability to think, act, breathe a free living being, he had inadvertently stumbled upon one of the core formulas of success against humans.

Their empathy was so great that with a few well placed words and the careful application of fact stretched to wrench hearts, he was able to produce a gentle persona; the character of a well meaning but desperately ruthless creature determined to change society.

The panel began filing in, as it was the second offense by Aldera - they had been fined several years prior in a neglect case regarding improperly maintained fences that resulted in a child’s injury. And so as the last of the nine judges were seated, Nedzu was called upon to begin presenting evidence. Knowing it would make the other party uneasy, and would set the trial off in his favor, he bowed his head in gratitude to the judge in question and cleared his throat.

As he spoke, detailing how the investigation began and why they were in this courtroom to begin with, Nedzu glanced at the judges first and tracked their movements. Of the nine judges, four were women, two had obvious mutation Quirks, and one of the women looked deeply disturbed within minutes of his presentation. Of course, he was employing a slight exaggeration, stating that he could not predict what would occur to the students if Aldera was allowed to continue so callously - in all reality, he knew exactly what would occur. 

A rise in villainy around the school had a fifty-three percent chance of occurring, as well as suicides from overwhelmed students who could not bear the thought of surviving one more day of that hell. A forty-seven percent increase in illegal Quirk use would be reported, although only eighteen percent would be properly charged with criminal negligence. A drop in students applying for Heroics, likely at a fifty-five percent predictability.

And of course, a whopping eighty-plus percent guarantee that retaliation would occur - and a near one hundred percent chance that one Midoriya Izuku would not survive it.

By the time Nedzu properly focused on the opposition - knowing that every twitch young Naomasa had was nailing their coffin lid shut with every lie or misdirection spat - evidence was being requested.

It was time to bring out the surveillance images.

Imamura Michiko

By the time they got through the surveillance images and Nedzu’s rebuttal against the Aldera representative’s wildly inaccurate interpretation of schoolyard bullying being “just boys being boys and playing rough”, Imamura Michiko was starting to get worried about how easy it all seemed.

She was one of those kinds of people who was always slightly suspicious of good things, especially due to her line of work. When she diagnosed a patient she would dutifully rule out the obvious conditions if she could. A mass under the skin was not always deadly cancer, it could be fluid build up. A persistent cough might be a long suffering flu or a respiratory infection rather than bronchitis. Sometimes a broken bone is just that, broken. 

Her mentor had always told her, “When you hear hoofbeats, think of horses, not zebras - because nine times out of ten, it’s a horse.”

But that suspicion wasn’t always easy to shake. That said, seeing the officials from Aldera taking it easy in the evidentiary portion left an uneasy feeling in her gut.

Which was why she actually breathed a sigh of relief when her former friend was sent to speak at the podium. Saito Yuzuki had once been a dear friend to her - they had grown up together as close neighbors, classmates all through primary through nursing school, Michiko had even stood at Saito’s wedding!

Listening to Saito speak curdled the feeling in her stomach. Her former friend spoke of how pitiful the child in question was, never fighting back and always having to drag her into his problems. As if his injuries were a terrible inconvenience for her to heal! Saito continued on, spewing her story of a Quirkless boy who didn’t deserve her scarce resources and the limited budget she had to deal with a wide variety of Quirk accidents. Apparently the school encouraged the children to play and practice their Quirks, and this Saito held no complaint - even asking why nobody else used this method!

Michiko shook her head as she fell back into years of memories - one in particular burning a bit brighter right now, as it was a tender wound that would likely never fully heal. It had hurt her terribly when Yu-chan became Saito, when Yu-chan spat words of vitriol and anger at her, a drunken night of moaning about medical school had become a heated battle between them - Michiko, who had the perfect Quirk for medical school, and Yuzuki, who couldn’t get a job anywhere. Yuzuki felt that it wasn’t fair that Michiko had everything handed to her - as if she hadn’t been at her side, watching Michiko work her butt off for everything she had! It had turned nasty after that, with terrible things said on both sides, and both women left each other that night wounded.

When they saw each other after that, Yuzuki had called “Micchan” Imamura, and that had been the end of their close friendship. But they would soon be colleagues forced to work alongside each other - with Saito making her miserable every day in some kind of self-righteous vengeance - until Michiko found out that Saito had applied at the hospital despite not completing her medical certificate. She hadn’t gotten the job, of course; no reputable establishment would hire an unlicensed nursing student.

Which became confusing when Michiko heard that Saito had found a nursing job at a local pre-secondary school. As a school nurse.

It was this that Michiko ruminated on as she calmly spoke about her experience meeting a young Aldera student at the emergency room half a year prior - he’d dragged himself through the doors barely by the tips of his fingers and collapsed into a bed before anyone could stop him. He’d been covered in bruises and no small amount of cuts and burns in a specific starburst shape - but as soon as he’d been treated to the point of waking, he’d run off without a word.

Inadvertently, Michiko had run into Midoriya Izuku and when she grabbed his shoulder as he pushed past her to the doors leading out of the hospital, she felt overwhelmed by vivid colors - and a history that could span the length of her body, just from the last year. She hadn’t been able to focus on anyone else for the next hour thanks to the resulting migraine.

Meeting him again this past week brought an ache to her heart that she tried not to show. They’d spoken - well, she had introduced herself and her Quirk to gain his consent, and he’d rambled for the entire appointment about the many incredible applications her Quirk had at her job, and what she could do as a Rescue Hero.

“Midoriya was a sweetheart the entire appointment,” she reported, “and I have difficulty understanding any circumstance wherein he deserved the many injuries he had sustained” She indicated that she had produced the printed diagnostic herself via bio-medical upload, and nodded politely as she finished her report. One of the judges indicated her file to the rest, and mentioned that he had seen her previously as a key witness - and yes, she did look familiar. That judge had been presiding over a second-offense abuse case, and had seen a live demonstration of Michiko’s Quirk - another surprising boon for their side.

When she stepped away from the podium, she felt as though she’d done a good job at representing their side - the side of justice, truth, and fair play for all - and frankly, she couldn’t wait for this to be over with. Maybe for her own sake, maybe more gallantly for the kid’s sake and his teacher.

Now if only that bad feeling would go away. Then all would be well, and she could finally relax.

Right?

Hizashi

The verdict was clear by the end of the day, but they still had to adjourn because there was simply too much evidence to go through all at once. There were still multiple pages of financial evidence, and a written testimony by a member of faculty - name revoked to prevent retaliation - of witnessing several instances of bullying and outright abuse. Midoriya hadn’t been the only kid who had suffered; there had been other children through the years that had been bullied or targeted by the staff for some reason or another. So there were documents and testimonies by other kids - now graduates - who had a lot to say about how Aldera had handled their education.

They’d had to extend the day yet again when Nedzu had pointed out that there were still videos to watch, which was gutting. Hizashi never wanted to have to watch the kid get shoved and burnt again - it was hard enough seeing it happen in real time as a kitten, stowed away and helpless.

It was worse watching today, in front of the court and watching the defense try to explain everything away or brush it under the rug - which was impossible. Endless unfiltered segments detailing the circumstances around so many burns, slashes, berating, beatings that left Midoriya choking back sobs played on the screen. There had been protestations by the defense that the video evidence hadn’t been available to them - the reason being was that Nedzu was convinced beyond the shadow of a doubt the defense would doctor and manipulate the footage however they could to win, and had filed specific injunctions to prevent that fate. Producing that paperwork had made some of the pain fade thanks to the satisfaction, but Hizashi wanted them to suffer more - hearing chants of “Useless Deku!” called by grown adults did that to him.

Hizashi felt completely useless , knowing it was all in the past. That the kid had already suffered this and there was absolutely nothing he could do . He was already pushing for more than he expected to manage; litigation was basically the only avenue that the Pro Hero could take.

He just wanted all of it to stop. He wanted them to never have to talk to Midoriya again. Hizashi wanted these three to get thrown into prison and rot there with a finality that he usually only reserved for the worst villains he’d ever had to face - which wasn’t that far off from the truth, if he was honest with himself.

In the end, Nedzu only needed to say a single sentence to close their end of the case.

“I hope you understand how far we have gone for this child, and our will to commit to this cause.”

With the blustering finale from the Aldera representation - a long winding speech that barely seemed coherent - the judges were separated from the two remaining parties by a thick glass wall. Unable to hear the discussion but able to see the reactions, the Aldera representatives and the defendants began to pale and sweat, while Nedzu, Naomasa and himself began to grin broadly.

Once the glass partition came down, the verdict was heard.

The institution of Aldera itself was fined. Obviously. The entity of the public school owed the various victims of Quirk discrimination heavily , and were made to pay out hundreds of thousands of Yen.

The superintendent and principal were both sentenced to twenty-five years in jail on Quirk discrimination, fraud of multiple kinds including falsification of records and financial misdeeds, sanctioning abuse of minors in their care, and criminal negligence of both the facility within which minors reside in and the minors themselves in the educational, mental, emotional and physical sense.

Saito Yuzuki was charged with sanctioning the abuse of minors in her care, defrauding the institution of Aldera Junior High School, criminal negligence, falsification of student records via omission, Quirk discrimination and operating without a medical license.

And finally, Hizashi could leave the courtroom with his head held high.

When Izuku and his mother checked the mail in the days following an impromptu visit to his grandmother, they were both shocked and confused to see a package had been mailed to their apartment. The envelope was large and professional looking - glossy, filled with stapled together papers, and when they began to go through the envelope, they realized that the content of the envelope was the result of a legal case.

It was a settlement, with Izuku’s name adorned right across the top.

Which meant that Izuku had a lot of explaining to do as his mother shakily picked up the paper at the top and read the name of the court case emblazoned at the forefront in big bolded letters.

Pro Hero Present Mic, civ. Yamada Hizashi vs Aldera Junior High School

Charges filed: Abuse of minors, neglect of students, one (1) count of Quirk discrimination against Quirkless individuals, criminal negligence, falsification of student records, and defrauding the state.

Lawyers assigned to case: Nedzu, Esq., JD; Yamamoto Tsuyoshi, JD

Individuals named: Saito Yuzuki, Imamura Michiko, Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou Katsuki, –

Izuku blinked and explained to his mother that he hadn’t known that it would be such a big deal, but that he had been stopped just before leaving school in the days before their trip and asked to participate in an investigation. Well, he supposed, “participate” was being very generous. 

No, the very kind woman and her detective friend had simply asked to take a walk with him and asked his consent to discuss his experience at Aldera. His mother relaxed a little, remembering the phone call asking her permission for her son to provide a statement and some sort of evidence towards a local case.

And so Izuku had gotten to watch a really cool Quirk work. With the detective explaining his Truth Identifying Quirk and then asking him questions and smiling through most of the answers. One question had made Izuku want to downplay the situation, and the man had twitched violently and frowned. Izuku had opened up just a little bit to the reality of the situation - no, he actually didn’t feel all that safe at school anymore - but it really was getting better soon, because he’d be leaving to go to secondary school!

The nurse had informed Izuku of her own Quirk after the conversation, and after establishing that he was perfectly happy to continue, had allowed him to ramble about how amazing both their Quirks were and how they could use them in alternative situations. He had held the kind lady’s hand and shortly afterwards his body had lit up like a painting, swathes and stripes of bright colors, and he’d nodded his consent again so that the detective could take pictures as evidence.

Apparently, it had been a bit more important than Izuku had been led to believe.

But that might have been for the best. With his name and status as a student, a minor at practically the center of all of the worst offenses by Aldera, there would have been a guarantee that he’d have to testify. Sure, it would have been mildly less frightening if he got to meet the Pro Hero Present Mic, the one sticking his reputation on the line, but Izuku just… he was tired. Of school, of bullies, of neglectful or outright antagonistic teachers. 

He didn’t want to imagine what life would have been like if he had known about the court case - and worse, had to testify in it. For that, he sent a mental prayer to Present Mic and Principal Nedzu, and the other two members of that team in thanks. They’d really saved him in a way he hadn’t expected. And supported him unconditionally. That kind of unyielding kindness was completely unforeseen by basically anyone other than his mom. His mom had been his rock for so many years… but maybe he could learn to trust some of the other adults that seemingly tangentially had an interest in his growth - which was a concept that seemed a little far-fetched until they began really digging into the legalese in the file.

Within the pack of papers were signed documents detailing a restraining order - no member of the Aldera staff were to come within one hundred meters of Midoriya Izuku. It was initially concerning, as Izuku had to complete Junior High to get a shot at a good secondary school, but the next sheaf of papers detailed an already-paid for scholarship for online classes to finish up the school year - and the rest of his intermediate education. The institution that was recommended by the legal team was more than above board, and offered cram classes - which meant that Izuku could complete the courses in a fraction of the time and still had the ability to get himself in shape for the UA entrance exam! 

Having his education paid for would help his mom save on the costs, and would allow them to file for a spot in the exam without financial aid, which made Izuku smile to himself - he’d saved up money over the course of his life just for this chance. Red envelopes from holidays visiting his grandparents, birthday money, odd jobs he’d picked up… he didn’t have to pay his own way in now.

Inko was particularly pleased by that; not that she wouldn’t have paid for Izuku’s education herself - and Izuku would die before telling her about the money he’d saved - but it was a financial aid that she wouldn’t be refusing. It wasn’t like he was afraid she’d take it from him, Izuku just really didn’t want to see his mom cry.

He was startled out of that errant thought by the sound of his mom shrieking in amazement after reading the second certificate in that bundle - another scholarship had been slipped in almost like an afterthought!

Izuku was struck by a feeling of petrified incredulity as he and his mother cried and clung to each other as they read the letter accompanying the second certificate. Izuku, for his courage and determination in making it through a deeply traumatic and wrought journey, had a spot in the UA placement test already paid for him. Additionally, should he pass the placement, there was also an anonymous donor willing to pay for his education at UA.

It had been signed from the desk of Principal Nedzu of UA, and this proof made Izuku’s tears dry up as he absolutely did not want to damage the signature. It was rare that the UA’s elusive principal actually put pen to paper, usually preferring a higher form of technology or a stamp, so having this signature was like holding the freshly-signed Japanese constitution. Of course, Izuku being the fanboy he was, he began begging his mother to frame the letter and put it somewhere special, so that they could both have this undeniable proof that UA saw him as a prospective candidate.

Inko, of course, was more than ready to allow it - she too wanted to gaze upon the proof that other people saw her son as just as worthy as she saw him. Her son had faced something that even she still didn’t know the full scope of. Izuku hid his misery and any trace of what was happening at school with a sunshine smile and a bright outlook on life. He did his best in everything, tried to ensure she was happy every day, and quite often he was smiling so that she would smile back. 

His enthusiasm about things was certainly a bright point in her life, but she did privately hope that going through this on his own and having someone else help might give her son reason to pause and ask for help. Izuku had people on his side, and she truly hoped that he wouldn’t feel the need to bear the weight of the world completely alone.

Izuku was truly brilliant now, though, with a smile that could power the sun - and she could tell it apart from so many she’d seen recently. This one was real, it lit his eyes up and scrunched his face so that his freckles were pushed into prominence.

Hopefully this would help him move on from those poor little kittens and the lingering depression that had befallen her sunshine boy when they had escaped. Hopefully he could finally settle after that horrible day with that disgusting slimy villain, no longer paranoid and jumping near-out of his skin.

Hopefully, this time he could heal.

Heal and grow, stronger than before.

Izuku

Izuku stood before the gates of UA High School, acceptance letter in hand, and knew in his heart that this was where he was meant to be. Despite everything he had suffered, he fought hard for this opportunity. Admittedly, he had no idea how UA accepted him, since he definitely failed the practical. He had done nothing in the whole exam except for digging other kids out of the rubble that the monstrous robots and other prospective students had created, not scoring a single point against the various foes.

But the letter had come, with his name on it. The disk had fallen out and his favorite Hero had spoken to him. All Might had long since fallen off his pedestal since their fateful meeting on that rooftop. The Erasure Hero had filled that void, thanks to a different rooftop conversation; one that had reached beyond his heart and healed an aching part of his very soul.

It was incredible to see a projection of Eraserhead - Eraserhead! - explaining that his heroic actions had been taken into account via a special committee and he had received rescue points for every student he had dug out, treated with battlefield care, and walked to a safe zone. Due to the point acclimation, he had received enough points to tie with Ka- Bakugou for top spot.

And so here he was, staring at the doors that led to his future. Walking forth, he nearly fell back against the ground as a figure came into view, but luckily a hand snatched his wrist and tugged him upright. Izuku followed the arm all the way to the owner of said limb and squeaked like a trodden mouse when he took in bright yellow hair, giant headphones, a speaker, and a brilliant, wide smile.

“Hey there kid, aw, you look so nervous! How about I help you get inside, get you better acclimated to UA? It’s okay, just first day jitters! Easy, there we go, Eraser’s dying to meet you- oops!” Present Mic grinned, helping the kid stand so his shaky knees were better concealed. A quiet gasp of “Thankyousomuch!!” made the Pro laugh goodnaturedly and in the resulting good mood shared between teacher and new student, something clicked for poor, flustered Izuku. The words that ( one of his favorite heroes oh my goooosh) Present Mic-sensei said had felt uncanny - almost familiar. 

Those were so close to his very first words to his kittens - ah, darn. The thought of the sweet animals brought budding tears to his eyes and made the breath catch in his throat. The loss, while certainly not new , was still painful to think about.

He missed those little babies so much and often was kept up at night wondering about them. Were they healthy? Were they still living on the streets? What if they’d been picked up by a new owner? What if they’d been caught in a villain attack?!

He began to cry a little harder at the thought. He’d been going to therapy after his mom found out about what happened at Aldera, but his therapist had encouraged him to feel his emotions fully rather than suppressing them. So here he was quietly sobbing with Present Mic beside him on what should have been the happiest day of his young life.

Some future Pro Hero he was.

Eraserhead would be so disappointed in him, and that made him want to stop crying - slowly, he managed to stem the flow of his tears and wiped his face with a cloth from his book bag. He had to be strong for his kittens and for his new favorite hero.

Besides, Present Mic probably had better things to be doing than standing around with a new student as said student had a mental breakdown. Talk about grounds for expulsion!

Izuku glanced up a little and saw that the Pro was just looking at him with a small frown, deep in thought and seemingly concentrating on the spot that Izuku had been burned several times, right on his throat. It had left a noticeable scar, which drew attention that Izuku wasn’t always prepared to handle, but Present Mic just kept looking and didn’t say a word to acknowledge the spot of raised, discolored skin peeking up from his uniform.

He really hoped that Present Mic wasn’t upset.

…he missed his kittens so much right now…

Hizashi

Meanwhile, Hizashi led the kid to a slightly more secluded part of the hall so that he could get his bearings. Izuku had changed since Hizashi had last seen him properly, and the older of the pair couldn’t say that it was a good change. They hadn’t been able to catch up during his time working on the trial - Tsukauchi had dealt with that part of evidence gathering - and he found himself wishing he’d asked more about how the kid was doing.

So, yes, upon first glance although the teenager appeared physically healthy and had even bulked up a little, Izuku still had that same air of despondence, and the depression seemed to be physically weighing on his shoulders. Had Aldera been ignoring the legally binding documents preventing them from harassing the child? Was that blond boy still in Izuku’s life, causing problems?

He was broken out of his concerned musings by a soft murmur, just loud enough for his hearing aids to pick up. “I’m sorry for crying the second I got here, gosh I’m at UA and I’m still such a Deku…” the kid whimpered, brushing the back of his hand over his eyes, “I just… I had these um… these stray kittens I took care of before I got in, and I kinda wish they could see how far I’ve come. Sometimes it seemed like they were the only creatures in the world that completely, unconditionally supported me… Ah, I’m sorry, I’m just a first year on my first day, you won't want to listen to my problems! You’re a Pro Hero and you have way better things to worry about, I’m so sorry for taking up your precious time, I should get going-!”

Izuku moved, getting up to walk away in a hurry, but… Hizashi was still holding his hand, and was a bit sad even though he understood. Trauma like what the little green bean had suffered wasn’t going to go away so soon, and he wanted to listen and make sure the kid felt comfortable with him.

Yes, UA really was so different from Aldera - the teachers had all faced some kind of discrimination in their lives, and that made them good at listening to the students and making sure they were comfortable.

Hizashi looked down at Izuku and patted his head, then put on a bright smile. “Aw, kiddo, it’s okay to feel all kinds of stuff on your first day. We teachers are here to listen to you, we’re here to help. I’m here for you, green bean,” he charmed, his easy patience working to calm Izuku down from his frenzied apologies, “In fact, how about I walk you to your homeroom class? This place is a maze, even I get lost sometimes!”

Internally, Hizashi was glowing. For one, Izuku was listening to him and actually expressing his feelings in a… Well, it wasn’t exactly healthy to ramble about a clearly painful emotional bruise at the first person you meet, but all things considered it was a good first step. And secondly, well.

It was sweet that the kid still missed him and Shou. It made him feel warm inside, like those nights of lazing on his back with his belly in a moonbeam, his partner at his side purring up a storm.

So with a jovial whoop, he casually dropped Izuku’s hand and instead provided what was essentially a guided tour through UA - taking the long way, of course, for extra flair - with an arm around the new student’s shoulders.

And if Nemuri glanced at him with a knowing smile as he passed her classroom, or Kan stared pointedly after the two of them as if the mysteries of the universe were being dangled in front of his nose…

Well, who could blame him for showing a bit of favoritism?

Izuku’s head was spinning by the time Present Mic deposited him in front of the 1-A homeroom door.

He had taken extra care to show up super early for his first day, partially to avoid seeing Ka-Bakugou and in part because he knew how overwhelmed he’d get trying to figure out where his class was amongst crowds. This, though, had been something out of half-formed dreams he would never have dared to even think about.

Present Mic-sensei had shown him everything , it seemed. Izuku had seen so many cool places, he had even gotten a decent glance at the amazing, super cool heroes that were going to be his teachers for the next three years! Midnight had waved at him, and had him blushing after a wink! Snipe said “Howdy” in that funny American accent! He even thought he glimpsed the elusive Principal darting into a vent at one point!

So when Present Mic-sensei finished the impromptu tour with a wide grin and a promise that if Izuku had any questions or even just wanted to say hi that he would “totally be around to help, little listener!”, he really couldn’t be blamed for his brain short-circuiting. 

Without thinking, Izuku leaned in and hugged his teacher, and when his mind finally connected the engaging physical contact and TEACHER and HELLO THAT’S PRESENT MIC brain cells, he sprang back and bowed repeatedly, blushing so hard he probably resembled a strawberry.

“I! Am so! Sorry! Mic-sensei! That! Was so! Unbecoming!!” he yelped disjointedly, praying to whatever force was out there that Present Mic-sensei wouldn’t be too annoyed with him for just… reacting like that. Of course, with his luck, his teacher would frown and revoke his promise but just as his thoughts started to spiral, Izuku heard his teacher laugh.

Well great. He’d made his new teacher laugh at him. So much for UA being different from Aldera, he thought dejectedly, his shoulders slumping.

“Aw, little listener, it’s okay! ‘Couple of my students last year accidentally called me ‘Dad’, and I just thought it was the cutest thing,” the man chuckled. Izuku reflexively shrank back as a hand reached and ruffled his hair, but found himself blinking and tilting his head like a confused puppy when that same hand smoothed some of his wild curls from his eyes. “Don’t worry about it kiddo, we all need a hug sometimes. Now how about you head on in? It’s still twenty or so minutes till homeroom officially starts, you go get settled real easy now.”

Izuku glanced at the door and a soft smile lit up his face like the rising sun. He could do it, walk through those doors and meet the heroes of tomorrow. He’d learn beside them, grow along with them, and maybe…

Maybe he’d even make a friend?

Yeah, this… this was his starting point. No going back.

Present Mic-sensei gave him a parting pat on the head and walked away as Izuku opened the massive door and slid into the room.

The first thing he noticed was a giant yellow sleeping bag leaned against the lectern and a face staring at him from the top. The face was so familiar that Izuku’s heart leapt into his throat and he almost stumbled into a desk on his left.

Holy shit.

Eraserhead was his homeroom teacher. His favorite Pro Hero was his homeroom teacher.

Instantly, his nerves faded and instead of panicking the way he probably should have, he bounced with energy and scrambled to get his newest Hero Analysis notebook out. Hero Analysis Number Five had been water damaged thanks to a run in with Ka- Bakugou and the other bullies, and he’d sobbed for an hour at the mess that was Eraserhead’s old signature, not to mention the pain of the lost entry that seared a hole in his heart. He took a breath and, unbidden, a thought about Present Mic-sensei being so kind spurred on enough confidence for him to walk up to the lectern.

Eraserhead’s eyes tracked his every movement, and just as the man was about to speak, Izuku’s tinny, nervous voice squeaked out, “You’re my favorite Hero. Can I- could you- please?” He held the lined paper up, already flipped to a clean page, and with a blush that could have outshone the sun, he actually managed to ask the question. “...you’re my hero , and I’d really like to have your autograph, sir, please? I’m sorry for not keeping the old one safe, it got really badly damaged and I- I promise I’ll make you a new entry too!”

Izuku’s heart pounded in his ears, and a small part of his brain that wasn’t completely overrun by anxiety and tension and oh god what have I done noted how feline the Hero’s reaction was, the slow blink of dulled comprehension, the languid, lithe movement as the yellow sleeping bag shifted around and unzipped to allow an arm to reach through... 

Everything today was conspiring to remind him of his poor, lost kittens, wasn’t it…

“...it’s fine, kid, hand it over,” Eraserhead finally spoke. And as if a switch had been thrown, Izuku was the one standing blinking before the other as Eraserhead swiftly signed the paper with a red pen - fitting, considering the vivid crimson glare of Erasure when it was active. Izuku’s arms trembled as he drew the precious signature close and reverently closed his notebook, his low bow instinct after such a long-dreamed of moment. “Thank you sir! I promise, I will take care of it so much better this time,” he gasped out, then backed off towards his assigned seat number in a daze.

Eraserhead’s eyes wouldn’t stop tracking him though, and Izuku found himself hugging the notebook to his chest as if trying to replicate the feeling of his accidental lunge at the Voice Hero. Something about how sharply his homeroom teacher’s eyes on him cut made him feel very small, very exposed, and… nervous?

But there was also a stillness to the air. As if the room had taken a deep breath and was holding it, waiting for someone to break the silence.

Izuku didn’t want to be the one to break it. Not again.

Eraserhead surprised him by shattering the peace. Izuku had always taken the Hero as one who thought out everything well in advance, not wanting to waste time or effort on the illogical, like a chess master, but the man’s voice was as soft as it had been on that rooftop.

“...Midoriya. Stay after class at lunch today.”

Never mind, Izuku was petrified. He’d always been told to stay after - for causing a ruckus, to discuss the details of his upcoming detentions, to repent for a test score that had beaten K- Bakugou - and his breathing broke pace for a second before he wrestled himself together.

He had heard the rumors of Eraserhead as a ruthless, practically bloodthirsty teacher with a penchant for expelling students. Hadn’t Eraserhead encouraged him to apply? But he realized that the Hero could have had time to change his mind, and therefore Izuku started to panic that, maybe, his dream was over, wasn’t it? Shot in the foot before it could begin. But before he could continue that line of mental spiraling, a deceptively gentle hand landed on his shoulder for a moment.

“...you’re not in trouble. Another teacher and I need to speak with you about a different matter,” Eraserhead continued, cutting through his mental self-agonizing tirade. Izuku’s head shot up from its previous position, and though tearful, he still noted the slight glare of a cell phone in the teacher’s other hand.

Before he could ask, other students began trickling in. The boy who called him out at the entrance exam, the bubbly girl with the gravity-based Quirk, and so many more - and Izuku startled when he glanced to the front of the room and found that Eraserhead had ensconced himself in his sleeping bag once more but lower to the ground, as if hiding from the flood of teenagers.

Another blink and Eraserhead was missing altogether, as if the classroom never had a teacher in it at all. Izuku looked around a little more visibly and the only indication that something was odd was the wall vent’s screws seemingly tightening of their own accord.

He finally breathed out, giggled to himself, and as the last person walked through the door, the day began.

Later on, as Aizawa-sensei had requested, Izuku stayed behind. He made it appear as if he was getting packed up at the same speed as everyone else while watching his classmates with keen eyes, but as the door shut he stayed in his seat with his eyes trained on the center of his desk. A thought came unbidden to the forefront of his mind - “Just how the teachers usually like it. Silent and not heard.” - and he had to swallow softly against a wave of nerves that rose to meet the eyes he could now sense were locked on him.

“Midoriya,” Aizawa-sensei called. There was a pause, Izuku unwilling to rise to the bait, and the classroom door opened once more. Faint conversation filled the quiet, and then a softer “...Izuku…” made him glance up, openly surprised and confused.

Present Mic - Yamada-sensei stood by Aizawa-sensei and both looked at him. Yamada-sensei even waved him closer, that brilliant smile from earlier still amazingly stuck on the man’s face. 

“Little listener, come closer! Did you bring your lunch from home today? Shooo-zawa, let’s get the kid somewhere more comfortable to discuss this,” Yamada-sensei covered his familiarity so badly that Izuku had to let out a soft giggle. Aizawa-sensei glanced his way and if his homeroom teacher didn’t have his own slight smirk and fond exasperation glowing in his stature, Izuku would have surely slapped his hands over his mouth and apologized again.

“Cut the act, Hizashi. Midoriya knowing how familiar we are is the least of our concerns, and I’m certain our student can keep a secret,” the man responded, and Izuku suddenly had the same small-exposed-too-much feeling from earlier. 

“Well, come on. Hizashi is correct, it’s illogical to not take the time to eat while we discuss the topic we want to,” Aizawa continued, standing up and nodding his head to the door curtly, “Follow me.”

And so Izuku found himself trailing behind his homeroom teacher, watching his English teacher harass the exhausted man about something or other relating to the radio and sleep schedules and other nonsense. He almost felt relaxed by the time they all got settled in a room by the teachers’ offices, and Yamada-sensei offered an explanation that the whole hallway was utilized by staff and therefore this removed any chances of them being interrupted by his classmates.

He was just starting to eat his bento - consisting of salt cured salmon nigiri, a cold salad made from pickled cabbage and carrots, and the tamagoyaki from breakfast - when Aizawa-sensei turned to him and began to talk.

Admittedly, having his teacher’s full attention terrified him just like it had back in the classroom, but he wasn’t going to admit that. So what if he accidentally inhaled a bit of egg? Or that the homemade, amazing lunch his mom put so much care into making suddenly sat like lead in his stomach? Izuku was training to be a hero, and could mask his emotions with the best of them!

Or so he thought. A nudge from Yamada-sensei and a wink indicated that no, he was being an open book and oh no he hadn’t heard a word Aizawa-sensei had said-

“Relax, I’ll start over,” Aizawa-sensei said. His monotone was kind of soothing, Izuku thought. “Hizashi thought it best to disclose certain information to you. After discussion, I’ve agreed with him and therefore what we are about to tell you cannot be spoken of - with exception of your parent, of course - outside of this room.” His teacher grimaced, the first actual facial expression Izuku had seen on the man since they met.

It wasn’t flattering.

Yamada-sensei picked up where the other left off. 

“See, Shouta and I both noticed how depressed you are,” he explained as gently as he could. Izuku stilled and a piece of fried chicken dropped in its journey to his mouth. Before he could protest, the Voice Hero was continuing, “Please give us the respect of not outright lying to us, we’re professionals. We can tell these things. You mentioned earlier that you’re sad because you lost kittens you took care of, well… what if we told you that you haven’t technically lost them at all?”

Izuku was stunned and a little more confused. How could he not have ‘technically’ lost the kittens? Kashu and Kuro were gone … 

Aizawa-sensei, in true blunt fashion, was the one to drop the outlandish bomb. 

“We were your kittens,” he grumbled. 

Izuku immediately denied it.

“Sirs, I- I’m sorry but that’s just not possible, they were so tiny and there’s just no way,” he began, only to be gently interrupted.

“Izuku, both Shouta and I can provide proof. For example,” Yamada smiled as if recounting something comforting , “There’s a wall in your house that your mom devoted to pictures of you growing up.”

Izuku blushed and protested, “J-Just because you know that…!”

Aizawa picked it up from there, and if he wasn’t looking at Yamada, Izuku would have sworn his teacher actually looked guilty , “...You write emails to your father,” and that fond gaze cut towards the frozen, tearful teenager with a somber note, “He’s never read any of them.”

Izuku was petrified, and for good reason. “N-No- Nobody is supposed to know that but me?!” He gasped, staring at the two adults as tears began to pour down his face. “This has to be a mistake somehow!”

Yamada-sensei looked at Izuku’s homeroom teacher, incredulous, and muttered, “What the hell Shou, that’s a bit too far, don’t ya think,” then scooted closer to him. “Hey, hey it’s okay… I’ve got ya. Just listen, okay? It’s kinda a funny story.”

Izuku felt a weight on his shoulders and leaned in, seeking comfort in the warmth he felt as he hiccupped and looked at his English teacher with wide eyes.

Yamada-sensei took that as a good sign, and began explaining.

“Well you see, it starts with a cute little cafe, me and Shou on a date, and a little girl in the booth behind us…”

The kid took it well, all things considered.

Sure, the story was… insane, as told by one of the two of them. Yes, Midoriya absolutely flipped out when he put the pieces together that the two of them had managed to sneak around collecting enough evidence to sue his school and win . Yes, it had been hilarious to watch Izuku’s eyes widen when he realized just where the funding for his scholarships came from.

Yes, it hurt Shouta terribly to see the kid’s face fall and his eyes water in betrayal when he admitted that he’d known exactly why Midoriya had been so depressed out on the roof that fateful night.

But their student had a heart sweet enough to carry two kittens home and feed them for almost a full week. Izuku truly had the moral heart of gold to see the best even in his childhood best friend turned worst-nightmare bully, and was an example that some Pro Heroes needed to learn from.

He forgave the two of them readily, and ended up hugging Hizashi’s arm and crying for part of the meeting just for the embarrassment of what he’d done for them as kittens.

But the kid had a slightly mischievous streak too, under all that anxiety and trauma. He asked them for a favor, since they technically owed him one each.

Which was why, after the first week of classes went by and the weekend hit, the two teachers met up with Inko and Izuku Midoriya in front of a particular building in the heart of the city.

The foursome first had a meal together, wherein the two men explained the circumstances to Inko and apologized for not coming forward sooner, and for the pain they had caused upon the removal of the Quirk that started it all. Inko, like her son, was more embarrassed that she had played feather-and-stick with one of the most famous radio stars and Pro Heroes of the age, and waved away any attempts at repaying the resources they had used when the two were transfigured into kittens.

She took everything gracefully, and then enquired why they were all meeting up on a day where the two Pros could be resting or, more realistically, grading. Which, thankfully, led them to explain what Izuku had asked of them.

Hizashi brightly exclaimed, as Shouta opened the doors, “Well, the kid deserves a little friend even if we can’t be that small anymore! So we thought, well, we can help with that!” Shouta smiled as he led the way through the hallway and signed them in.

“And we do owe the Problem Child for saving us that day. Izuku’s more than earned a kitten or two for himself, don’t you agree Midoriya-san?”

Izuku opened the final door to their destination and was immediately swarmed - dozens of kittens of all colors, shapes, and sizes rushed him as fast as they could with their little bodies - as the adults slipped in and shut the door quickly to avoid escapees.

Shouta smiled and petted a particular black cat with bright red eyes that rubbed against his legs. Hizashi, the beanpole, was promptly set upon by the most adventurous of climbers - several kittens digging their little claws in to get as tall as they possibly could, and Inko laughed as an orange kitten played with the tassels of her flats.

They were all quite distracted by all the fluff, the cute adventurous ones, until they realized that Izuku was no longer in front of them being swarmed.

No, the kid had waded into the room and sat down, talking quietly to a pair of timid, particularly small shorthair kittens that had apparently stuffed themselves into a corner the moment the door swung open. One of the pair was getting bold, the little one had soft green eyes from what they could tell, and a sandy greyish coat - the other was a darker grey, mostly, with white markings on its chest, and warm topaz eyes. 

The kittens were slowly falling in love with the boy, and eventually bumped his hands for strokes and a few scratches on their heads. Victory sounded with the sweet rumble of a purr from the golden-furred kitten.

Knowing that a choice had been made, the adults slowly eased out of the room to finalize the paperwork for Izuku. Of course, naming the kittens came up and nearly started a name war between Shouta and Hizashi, until Inko firmly laid down the rules - Izuku had already picked out a name. 

It was with no small amount of shame that Hizashi and Shouta acknowledged that they had been the forever strays Izuku had wanted to keep. There were toys and beds, special treats and foods that had originally been bought for two little kittens found in an alley. There were collars waiting at home, engraved and prepared months ago for a different set of strays that would never come home the way Izuku had cried and pleaded.

Aizawa and Yamada, Present Mic and Eraserhead would be the heroes that Izuku hadn’t known he needed all those months ago, watching over him and guiding their student to a brighter tomorrow.

And Izuku could be a hero to his very own kittens. 

Kuro and Kashu were finally coming home to stay.