Chapter Text
UA had been… intense as of late.
Between the relentless training, the bloody aftermath of the Shie Hassaikai raid, and the busyness of the School Festival, Izuku had barely had time to catch his breath. His mind still replayed the sorrow of Nighteye’s passing, Gentle Criminal's arrest, and Eri trembling in his arms. Izuku knew he couldn’t change what happened to Nighteye or Gentle Crinimal, but with Eri, he was so happy that things were changing for the better. That thought alone brought warmth to his chest. They had saved her. That was the kind of hero he wanted to be.
Eri’s smile had bloomed wide as she watched them perform, and now she had moved in with Aizawa, her new guardian. She hadn’t just survived, but had found happiness to live for after everything she had gone through. It felt like hope, like proof that things would get better. He’d survived it all, too.
Not unscathed, but stronger.
Which made this small, quiet weekend at home all the more precious.
Since moving into the dorms, he had seen his mom less and less, so much so he hadn’t even had the time to text her about anything that had been going on. His mom really was the best and very forgiving considering she was only notified of his involvement with the Yakuza watching his fight on TV…
He glanced toward the kitchen where his mother moved about, tidying up after dinner. She had made him Katsudon, his favorite meal, and now there he was, browsing the TV for a movie to watch with her. It was just the two of them again, just like before the world unfolded into chaos. Izuku let himself sink into it, the comforting familiarity of home wrapping around him like a blanket. It made him realize how long it had been since he truly relaxed.
Inko stepped out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a towel as she approached the living room with a soft smile. “Did you pick something out, sweetie?”
Izuku nodded, using the remote to flip to the movie title. “Uh… yeah. I figured we could finally scratch this one off the bucket list.”
When the title appeared on the screen, Inko raised a brow, then gave him a teasing look. “Oh? Not a hero movie? Who are you and what have you done with my son?”
Izuku rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish. “I mean… we always say we’ll watch the others, but we never do because of me. You’ve wanted to see this one forever, and I just thought it might be nice.”
Inko let out a warm laugh as she sank onto the couch beside him, folding her legs up. “Wow, look at you. Being thoughtful and breaking out of your hero obsession? Someone must be growing up,” she said fondly, petting his curly mop of hair affectionately. Izuku’s face flushed, but he smiled despite himself.
“Mooom…” “Alright, alright,” she said, nudging him playfully. “Let’s watch your surprisingly good choice.”
He gave a soft laugh too, but it was cut short when a sharp, aching pain suddenly flared in his right arm. Izuku winced, biting down on a hiss as his hand instinctively gripped at the scarred limb. Inko noticed immediately, her laughter dying off as concern replaced it. “Izuku?”
“I’m fine,” he said quickly, though the tightness in his voice betrayed him. “It’s just… a flare-up. Nothing bad.”
But it did hurt, deep and sudden, a reminder of how much damage he’d done to himself during the Overhaul fight. The arm he’d shattered pushing One For All beyond his limit, even with Eri’s help, wasn’t fully healed. Maybe it never would be.
Inko leaned closer, reaching gently for his arm with careful hands. “Are you sure?”
He shook his head. “No, no, it’ll pass.” He managed a reassuring smile. “We don’t have to stop movie night or anything.”
A beat of silence. Then she brightened slightly, patting his knee. “Why don’t I run down to the convenience store? We could share some ice cream. That always helps, right?”
Izuku blinked. “What- now?”
“It’s only ten minutes there and back. I’ll get your favorite!” He sat up straighter.
It did sound nice but it was already dark out, and he didn’t feel comfortable letting his mother go out alone. But the moment he tried standing, his feet reminded him of the weighted runs he’d done that morning. He winced and sat back down.
“Izuku.” She gave him that look, the one that said I’ve been your mom for sixteen years and I know how stubborn you are, but I still win. “You’re hurting. I’m not. Let me do this for you.”
“But walking alone this late… Mom, I don’t like that idea.” Inko nodded. “That’s why I’ll bring my phone. I have the emergency alert shortcut you set up, remember? And if I’m not back in ten minutes, you come find me. Deal?”
Izuku hesitated. He didn’t like it, but his mother was right. It was a tiny, quiet neighborhood. Just a two-minute walk. She’d done it before a dozen times. “…Okay,” he mumbled, chewing the inside of his cheek. “But only for ten minutes.”
She smiled, standing up and reaching for her scarf and purse. “You’re such a worrywart. Just like me I suppose.”
Izuku didn’t answer, he just watched her walk to the door. Inko wrapped herself in her coat and scarf, putting on her shoes before opening the door.
“Love you!” she called, waving.
“Love you,” he called back, voice wavering.
The door closed behind her with a soft click. Izuku sighed, and decided to pull out his phone to kill the time. He scrolled mindlessly through HeroSocial, trying to distract himself from the quiet of their apartment now. There was a clip of Edgeshot breaking up a fight, Mt. Lady advertising face wash, and a retweet from Eraserhead about nighttime curfews.
Staring out the window into the night sky, he wondered if Mr. Aizawa was working tonight. Knowing his teacher, most definitely. They might still have time to rest on nights like these, but once they were pros, Izuku knew they would be few and far between.
All Might’s official profile popped up with a new post, a quote along with an old picture of All Might walking the streets of America and flashing a million dollar smile.
Even the Symbol of Peace had quiet days. Heroes need rest too, make sure to take care of yourselves out there! #SymbolOfPeace #RestDay #HeroHealth
Izuku gave a soft snort under his breath. That definitely wasn’t written by All Might himself. He knew the man more personally than most, and one thing he knew for sure was that All Might didn’t do rest days. He could practically hear the agency PR team brainstorming hashtags. Still, it made his chest ache a little.
Because even if All Might didn’t write it, the sentiment reminded him of how close they had become. Of how much he had come to know the man behind the smile, and despite everything he pushed himself through always checked on Izuku. If Izuku was eating enough, if Izuku was pushing beyond his limits…
Then something caught his eye.
[BREAKING] Series of thefts targeting local convenience stores and gas stations reported across Musutafu. The latest incidents involve masked suspects. Caution urged.
His heart dropped. The article listed the areas affected, one of them was within blocks of where his mom had gone. Izuku immediately shot up off the couch, stumbling over to the front door without a second thought. How could he have not seen this earlier? She hadn’t been gone ten minutes yet, but he didn’t care. With no jacket and only his slippers, he flung open the door and ran.
The cold autumn air sliced into his skin, but he didn’t slow down. He ignored the burn in his legs, the ache in his feet. All he could hear was the blood rushing in his head and the word stupid ringing through his mind. The convenience came into sight quickly at the pace he was moving, but there was something else. Blue and red lights in the distance flashed faintly, and Izuku pushed himself faster to a dead sprint, heart hammering in his chest.
That’s when he saw it.
A familiar figure lay motionless on the pavement, her scarf crumpled near the curb, the soft green fabric stained with blood. Her phone was shattered, pieces scattered across the crosswalk. Paramedics crouched beside her, their hands moving quickly, efficiently, but all Izuku could see was how still she was.
Mom…
A woman stood nearby, shaking and clutching her chest. "I-I saw it. The car… it just sped through! They didn’t even stop after it happened-!"
His heart thudded painfully in his chest, ears ringing with the muffled roar of blood. The flashing red and blue lights, the curious onlookers, the shrill voice of a woman crying out in the background, it all faded into a dull, distant blur. Izuku couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe.
“Young man, step aside-”, one of the officers started, approaching with a firm but gentle tone, reaching out a hand. The cop’s voice didn’t register, but all Izuku felt was a hand pulling him away from his mother.
“I-” Izuku’s voice cracked. His gaze locked on the figure on the ground. “That’s… that’s my mom.”
He was on his knees before anyone could stop him, the fatigue in his legs finally catching up with him. His hands hovered above her, trembling, useless.
The officer paused, crouching down beside him, the sharp lines of concern softening on his face. “She’s being stabilized. They’re taking her to Mustafu General downtown. She’s still alive.”
The words cut through the fog. Alive.
The officer gently touched his shoulder. “You’re welcome to ride in the ambulance with her, or someone can pick you up. Do you have your phone to call someone?”
Izuku just nodded. The only thing he knew, the only thing that mattered, was that his mother was hurt, and he wasn’t going to leave her side.
Not for anything.
The hospital waiting room was bright, nothing like the comforting soft light of his home. Izuku sat with his hands in his lap, hunched forward in one of the plastic chairs with the fabric seat cushions that smelled like antiseptic, staring at the trembling lines in his hands. He shifted uncomfortably, checking the clock on the wall for what seemed like the hundredth time that evening.
It was midnight now, if they had started the movie after she had gotten back they'd be in bed by now. He was still wearing his house slippers. He hadn’t even realized it when he left.
Stupid. I didn’t even put on real shoes. I didn’t lock the front door. I didn’t even grab her purse-
Her purse.
It had fallen beside her on the pavement, right next to where her phone had landed. And he’d just left it there. He also forgot to lock the door. She was going to be so mad about that. Izuku swallowed. His throat felt like sandpaper.
She was wearing that green scarf he got her last winter. It was one he found with his face on it with his hero name Deku stitched into it. She laughed when she opened it, saying it was “the perfect blend of weird and adorable.” He thought it looked stupid at the time, not used to seeing his face on merchandise, but now he couldn’t get the image out of his head. The way it was soaked in red.
Izuku couldn’t let himself cry. There was no reason to cry now, not when there was still hope she’d be okay. Izuku knew she’d be okay, he was the reckless one they had to worry about getting stuck in the hospital. Not his mom, she would be just fine.
“Izuku Midoriya?” His head jerked up.
A woman stood in the doorway in light blue scrubs, holding a tablet against her chest.
“Y-Yes,” he asked, straightening in his chair.
The doctor's expression shifted slightly, eyes softening. “Can I speak with you privately?”
Izuku swallowed as he tried to calm his rising anxiety. His legs barely responded as he stood, but he followed her without a word, trying not to fall apart with every step. She led both of them to an empty patient room, which was even more devoid of color than the waiting room and just as bright. She smiled gently and motioned for him to sit on the patient table, which he did hesitantly, not meeting her gaze.
“I wanted to speak to you privately out of courtesy of the waiting room guests' hearing,” she spoke calmly, sitting down across from him. Izuku nodded solemnly, feeling dread prickle on the back of his neck.
“I’m sorry, we couldn’t save her.”
Izuku felt the floor blur under him.
The doctor’s voice wavered slightly as she continued. “We did everything we could. The impact caused massive internal trauma. She was unconscious when she arrived at the hospital. There were a few moments where we thought we could stabilize her, but her heart stopped just before midnight.”
Midnight.
She’d been gone while he sat in that waiting room, counting down the minutes, staring at his hands and waiting for her to get better. She died while he was still hoping.
The doctor glanced down at her tablet, then back at Izuku with eyes that had clearly said this kind of thing before. “The police were able to reconstruct what happened based on the security footage and bystanders. It was a hit-and-run. Your mother was crossing at the light near the convenience store, and a speeding car blew through the intersection.”
“She didn’t suffer long,” the doctor added. “I know that doesn’t help much. But she didn’t feel much pain.”
That doesn’t help at all, Izuku thought.
His mind was playing tricks on him. There was a buzzing sound in his ears. He couldn’t tell if it was from the fluorescent lights or just his ears ringing from the pounding in his heart. His chest ached so badly he thought something might be wrong with his heart. He couldn’t breathe right, couldn’t think, because it kept hitting him in waves. He'd never hear her voice again. Never get to tell her about his day again. Never have her hug him so tight his ribs complained. His mom’s gone.
The words of the doctor felt wrong. He didn’t want them. He wanted her to take them back.
The doctor cleared her throat gently, standing up. “Her personal effects were collected by officers on the scene. You’ll be able to retrieve them from the Musutafu Police Station once they finish processing everything.”
After a moment of waiting for Izuku to say something, she sighed and ushered him up and out of the room gently. Izuku let her push him towards the waiting room, his legs giving out under him when they arrived there at his chair. “Izuku… you’re a minor. Do you have anyone who can pick you up tonight?”
Izuku blinked. Pick him up?
He stared blankly at the woman, brain slow to catch up. Pick me up?
“I’ll leave you to call someone, but I will be back to check on you in a moment. Again, I’m sorry for your loss, let any of the staff know if we could help in any way,” she stated, checking her list for her next assignment and walked away.
Izuku sat there frozen, letting the doctor's words wash over him again and again, trying to stick but it all felt so wrong.
His mom… was dead, just like that.
Izuku wanted to go home.
He could never go home again… He was a minor like the doctor said, and he had no one to take him.
Izuku slowly pulled out his phone. The screen glowed in his hands, his contacts list blurred a little at the edges from the shake in his fingers, names sliding up and down as he scrolled too fast. Iida. Uraraka. Todoroki. Aoyama. Tsuyu. Kacchan. Everyone was probably asleep. It was past midnight now, and after the week they’d all had he didn’t want to bother them. He didn’t want them to wake up to this. His thumb hovered near Aizawa’s name next.
Sensei would answer.
He always answered. Even when he sounded like he hadn’t slept in days. Even when he was clearly annoyed. But it hit Izuku like a punch.
He’s on patrol. It’s night. He needs to be alert. If I call him now, if I mess him up and something happens just like this happened…
He couldn’t do that.
The next contact made him freeze.
All Might.
He bit his lip.
His mentor was the last person Izuku wanted to bother, especially at this hour, but…
He had never felt so powerless. Not since he was that small, quirkless boy watching heroes on TV, hoping one might look his way. Hoping one might make everything feel safe again. And every time he’d imagined it, it had been All Might, towering, smiling, promising that everything would be okay.
All Might would make this okay… wouldn’t he?
Izuku drew a shaky breath and decided to text first, in case his mentor was asleep. He typed, erased, and retyped for what felt like forever, each attempt weighed down by the fear of being a burden. Finally, he settled on just three words.
Izuku: I need help.
He hit send before he could lose his nerve. The phone slid from his fingers into his lap. He pressed his hands over his face as if to push the tears back.
It didn’t even take a minute before the phone buzzed violently against his legs.
Incoming call: All Might!!!
Izuku fumbled with the phone, his hands slick with sweat, heart hammering in his chest. He swiped to answer, bringing the device to his ear with shaking fingers. “H-Hello.”
“Izuku,” All Might’s voice was breathless with panic. “Are you hurt? What happened? Where are you?”
The moment he heard his mentor’s voice something inside him cracked wide open. The fear, the hopelessness, everything he’d been trying to hold together unraveled all at once. “I-I’m at Mustafu Hospital,” he said, and that was as far as he got before the tears started to spill over. “It’s not- it’s not me. I’m not hurt…”
He pressed the heel of his palm to his eyes, trying to stop the tears, but they kept coming. His throat clenched around a sob he couldn’t swallow and instead hitched pitifully. “I-It’s my mom. There was an accident, and she… she’s-”
There was a pause, then, “I’m on my way.”
Toshinori had just finished grading the last of the week’s assignments, setting the papers aside with a quiet sigh. A glance at the clock told him it was well past midnight, and he still had lesson plans to finish for next month. Lately, the days had all blurred together, each one busier than the last. Nighteye’s death still hung heavy over them all, him especially. And then there was his successor, who had barely escaped with his life during the Yakuza raid. That had deeply scared him.
Sleep hadn’t been coming easy since then. When it did, it was plagued by nightmares, the regret, fear, and visions of his boy bleeding out in the dark. He knew better than anyone the risks hero work carried, especially with a quirk like One for All. But maybe his age was catching up with him, because lately, the worry was relentless. It gnawed at him, this need to keep Midoriya close, to make sure he was safe and within reach.
Between the preparations for the school festival and his own endless duties, they hadn’t actually talked, really talked, or spent time together since last week. And the truth was… Toshinori had been feeling the loneliness.
That was all he seemed to be now. Useless. Lonesome. A man who could do nothing but worry for his students and the country he could no longer protect.
His phone suddenly buzzed with a text from across the table. He sighed tiredly, running his hand down his face as he reached for it. Probably was a status report from his agency or perhaps an update from Nezu, they would be up at this time…
But it wasn’t either of those.
Now there he was, driving to the hospital to the aid of his student. The streets were mostly empty at this hour, the headlights cast long shadows against the buildings, but all he could focus on was the image of Izuku in his mind. The crack in Izuku’s voice when he picked up, how he had devolved into sobs. Toshinori had never heard him sound so defeated before.
Izuku had a bad habit of never asking for help unless it was already too late.
Please, kid. Please be okay.
Ten minutes later, he screeched into the visitor lot at Musutafu General, barely throwing the car into park before launching himself out the door. Toshinori ran quickly up the steps of the front entrance, ignoring the chill of the autumn air against his skin.
The sliding doors hissed open, and he burst into the waiting room, scanning the rows of blue seats before he saw Izuku. The boy sat curled into a chair against the far wall, his body hunched in on itself like he was trying to disappear. He was also in his pajamas, slippers and all.
Toshinori’s chest clenched at the sight.
He walked forward quickly.
“Young Midoriya?” The boy’s head jerked up, eyes wide and watery as he took in Toshinori like he was a ghost.
“…All Might,” he whispered, voice cracking.
Toshinori crossed the remaining distance in two strides and dropped to his knees in front of him. “I am here,” he said softly, resting a gentle hand on Izuku’s trembling shoulder. “I’ve got you.”
Izuku’s face twisted in anguish, and then without a word, he leaned forward and pressed himself into Toshinori’s chest and sobbed. Toshinori tightened his hold on the boy, gently rubbing his back soothingly.
Before he could say anything more, a sharp voice interrupted. “Mr. Midoriya…?”
Toshinori looked up to see a woman approaching that looked like she worked there. Her eyes widened in recognition as he took in the sight of the former Symbol of Peace. “All Might! I didn’t expect to see you here.”
He gave a tired nod. “He’s… my student.”
The doctor glanced at Izuku, who remained tucked into All Might’s shoulder, his own shoulders shaking slightly as he cried. “Will you be taking him home?”
All Might’s gaze hardened. “What-?”
The doctor sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Midoriya Inko was involved in a hit and run earlier this evening, and unfortunately didn’t survive. Given the circumstances, I offered Izuku to call someone he could stay with.”
A heavy pause settled between them.
“All the belongings they recovered, her purse, phone, have been taken to the station. Izuku can retrieve them when he’s ready.”
Inko Midoriya is dead.
All Might swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly feeling incredibly dry.
He had just started to get to know the woman, and now she was gone. Izuku had just lost the most important figure in his entire life.
He’s only fifteen. He’s already lost so much, but his own mother? Izuku was already burdened with the weight of One for All, with the expectations of the future. And now… this.
Where would he go?
The thought made Toshinori’s stomach twist. From previous conversations they had, Izuku’s father wasn’t really in the picture and lived in America, and from what Izuku told him, Mr. Midoriya didn’t really care for his son besides sending Inko child support. The idea of Izuku having to leave for America, to leave his friends, to leave U.A…
He couldn’t- he wouldn’t let that happen. Even as the grief gnawed at him, another part of him already made his choice. I’ll take care of him.
Because Inko had trusted him with her son. Trusted him to protect her son, to guide him and to live for him. And if she was gone… then Toshinori would honor that trust with everything he had left, no matter what it cost him.
“I’ll make sure he’s taken care of,” All Might said, nodding at the woman with a soft smile. The doctor’s own smile was gentle, understanding, and she returned the gesture with a respectful bow. “If you need anything, All Might, please let us know. And thank you, for everything.”
When she walked away, Toshinori’s attention shifted back to the boy in his arms. Izuku had quieted, his sobs reduced to shaky breaths, though the faint dampness of tears still clung to Toshinori’s shirt. Adjusting his grip carefully, he tilted Izuku just enough to see his face. The redness around his eyes, the tear-streaked cheeks, it all spoke of how exhausted he must be.
He thought of the hours the boy must have spent in this sterile, suffocating hospital, waiting for the inevitable. Waiting completely alone. He really needed to get the kid out of this place.
“My boy,” he murmured quietly, “I’m gonna take you home with me, okay?” Izuku only nodded solemnly. On any other day if the situation had been anything else, Toshinori knew those words would’ve earned him wide-eyed fanboy disbelief at having a sleep over with All Might. Now, Izuku just looked like he hadn’t fully registered it.
Guiding him to his feet, Toshinori kept an arm firm around the teen’s shoulders, steadying his sluggish steps toward the exit. The night air outside bit at their skin. He felt Izuku shiver against him, the boy’s smaller frame leaning slightly more into his side as they crossed the short distance to the car.
Toshinori opened the passenger door and helped him inside. He closed the door gently, circling around to the driver’s side. The engine turned over smoothly, the faint warmth still lingering from when he had driven here earlier. Even so, he noticed the way Izuku shivered slightly, curling toward himself for warmth.
Toshinori shrugged off his coat, handing it to his successor. “I’m sorry, I know it's cold.”
The boy gave him a quiet ‘thank you’ and Toshinori was glad for the lack of protest. They took off down the road towards U.A., the only noise being the whir of the heater. It wasn’t a long drive, but the silence between them made it feel heavy.
Pulling into the parking lot, he stopped and killed the engine, casting a quick glance next to him. Izuku was fast asleep in the passenger seat, cheek pressed lightly to the window, brows furrowed even in rest. Toshinori reached over tenderly and brushed back a lock of his green hair on his forehead, trying to smooth his features out.
He pulled back, getting out of the car moving around to the other side to open the door. “Come on, my boy,” he whispered, unbuckling his seatbelt. Toshinori gently scooped him up into his arms, grunting a little in effort. The boy was dead weight, completely passed out from physical exhaustion and emotionally shattered.
It took more effort than he’d like to admit, in his frail form, to carry his student all the way to the front door of his apartment, let alone get it open. He managed to nudge the door with his foot, surprised to find it giving way easily. He must have left it cracked earlier in the rush to get out.
He closed it behind him, careful not to jostle the boy in his arms, and padded softly through the hallway toward his bedroom. He lowered him onto the bed as gently, and Izuku didn’t stir, his head sinking into the pillow with a faint sigh. Toshinori crouched to slip off his house shoes, setting them neatly by the door before reaching into the boy’s pocket for his phone. He placed it on the nightstand, and finally pulled the blanket up, tucking it gently around the boy’s shoulders.
Lowering himself to sit on the edge of the bed, he let out a quiet, tired breath. His eyes lingered on the form curled beside him. Izuku looked so small underneath the comforter, and his brows had smoothed out, making him look all the more serene.
He looked so young.
Unfortunately, this was the kind of grief that would follow a person for the rest of their life, reshaping them in ways they wouldn’t understand until years later. Toshinori knew- he had carried his own losses like old scars. Nana…
“I’m sorry,” he whispered into the stillness, his voice barely audible even to himself. But apologies couldn’t stitch up what had been torn apart. They couldn’t bring her back, couldn’t undo the moment Izuku’s world had shattered.
He didn’t know what he could do to make things better, what the future would be like and it terrified him. He couldn’t take the pain away, no matter how badly he wished he could. But he could do one thing.
He could make sure the boy didn’t face it alone.