Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Izuku was smart, all of his teachers had said so. So had Mama and Daddy, when Daddy was around. Or well, they used to at least. Izuku didn’t think he had lost his smartness in two years, but here he was, unable to figure out something he was convinced he should be able to figure out, finding his way back to the car at a solid six years old. Mama always found the car easily whenever they went shopping, for a little bit, Izuku thought Mama had a second quirk of finding things. She always found whatever he had lost, always. He wished he had that quirk, finding things he was looking for, then he could find Mama and the car. He wished he had any quirk at this point, even if it was something stinky and not useful. Maybe his teachers would start calling him smart again, maybe Mama would be nice again and Daddy would come back. 

The two years since he was quirkless diagnosed at age four had been bad and had been getting worse. Izuku would be lucky if the teachers left him alone at school, having deemed teaching him a waste of time. Kachan had gotten meaner too, and wouldn’t play with him anymore. Izuku didn’t remember what Daddy looked like anymore, and Mama had gotten meaner like Kachan.

At first, she was always crying, and wanted Izuku in his room all the time, seeming sad to see him. Izuku was confused and wished she stopped being so sad all the time, and he was allowed back into the rest of the apartment, and to play with Mama again. But when he finally was, he wished he could go back to hiding in his room. Mama was mean, she yelled and threw things at Izuku, she even used her quirk on him, when she got confused after drinking the nasty-smelling apple juice from the glass bottles Izuku wasn’t to touch. Those glass bottles had been thrown at him as well as anything Mama could get her hands on, that either wouldn’t break or she didn’t care that it broke. Mama quickly became Inko to Izuku, unable to see his once kind Mama in the lady who lived in the house now. Izuku quickly learned to be quiet and sneak around when Inko finally got too tired to be angry. 

He had to, Inko stopped making him meals and started making him clean up the apartment, while also giving him no instructions or standards she wanted, which led to a lot of big blow-ups from Inko before Izuku learned to use the family computer to look up how to clean videos while Inko was gone at work. But still, Izuku was barely five, there was a lot he either wasn’t able to do or did well enough for Inko’s high standards, which she herself hadn’t cleaned to before when she was the one cleaning. Sometimes, it felt like it was just meant to punish Izuku, no matter how clean the floors or counters were. To Inko, that is exactly what it was. 

It was like that for two years, the teachers and kids being mean at school, only to come home and have Inko be even meaner, she actually physically hurt him, a line the teachers and kids at school hadn’t crossed yet. And then, Auntie Mitsuki must have finally noticed something was wrong, and suggested that the two of them go on a trip together, a mother-son vacation to ‘reconnect’ and fix the strain of the last two years, whatever that meant. Little ears could overhear conversations, but that didn’t mean they understood them. 

Even stranger, Inko seemed to jump on the idea, especially when Auntie Mitsuki offered to pay for it. Within two days, both had bags packed and were on the bullet train, leaving Musutafu behind as they set off for their destination, which Inko had yet to tell Izuku. It was strange, little six-year-old Izuku thought. The further the train got from Musutafu, the better of mood Inko had as if leaving behind who she had become in the two years since Izuku’s diagnosis. 

Izuku didn’t want to break the delicate peace and refused to ask where they were going, and why Inko’s mood had improved. He wished he had asked questions now, maybe Inko would have gotten mad and taken them back home right then and there. Maybe Izuku should have caused a scene to avoid the suspiciously calm trip. Maybe if he had, he wouldn’t be stranded now. What Izuku didn’t know was that the second they stepped into the train station, Inko had made her mind up and wasn’t going to be changing it, no matter what. It was why her mood was improving the further the train traveled, even going so far as to smile at Izuku, which was just bizarre and strange for the young boy. Inko hadn’t smiled at him in years, the best he could hope for was indifference. 

Still, Inko didn’t explain herself, or where they were headed, and Izuku didn’t ask, knowing better than to risk her anger, and now he was regretting it. It was getting cold, and dark, and his clothes were wet, making the situation all that more terrible. Auntie Mitsuki had booked them in a mountain resort, far away from the hustle and bustle of cities. The small resort was quite isolated, surrounded by wild forests and peace. Something Auntie Mitsuki thought would be good for the mother-son pair. Little did she know the plan the isolated place had hatched in Inko’s mind. 

The day the two of them had checked in was quiet, Inko took advantage of the included spa and left Izuku alone, to which he didn’t object. The quiet was the first peace he had in two years, even if he knew Inko was only a few floors down in the spa, he had a modicum of quiet and isolation, something he had never had, having grown up in Musutafu his entire life. There was always some kind of sound, either traffic or the wailing of a siren in the distance at the least. In all honesty, the quiet unnerved him, although he would never admit that to Inko, or anyone else for that matter. 

The next day, everything started going downhill. Inko woke up in a bad mood, back screwed up from sleeping on the tatami mats instead of the western bed she had at home. It only spiraled from there. Izuku didn’t wake up soon enough, he didn’t pack up his bag quickly enough, he ate too much at breakfast, and then didn’t drink enough water. His clothes were messed up. Any and everything Inko could pick at, she did. Yesterday seemed like a fever dream, to Izuku. Like he had imagined the fact that Inko had finally been happy for once. He couldn’t have, because he had been so happy Inko hadn’t gotten as mad as she normally did. But now she was mad again, just like before. 

And just like before, Izuku was left to follow in her shadow, tiny legs struggling to keep up with the determined and pissed-off Inko, even if she herself was badly out of shape. Izuku didn’t know it, but his body was suffering from malnutrition, making what should have been an easy hike into something so much more difficult for the small boy. Inko herself was struggling, but that had more to do with her fitness level than what Izuku was dealing with. Still, Inko was in enough shape to drag Izuku out into the woods, the forest really. Inko had made sure to take both of them far off the beaten paths, and wandered deeper and deeper into the forest, so much so that she herself was almost lost. Inko made sure that they were as far from any form of humanity as possible, which resulted in them ending up miles from the nearest human, or routinely used walking paths. 

Only now did Izuku look up at Inko with questions in his eyes. And she looked down at him with an unexplainable expression to the six-year-old but to anyone else, it would be contempt, as clear as day. 

“Okay, Izuku, we’re going to play a game, how does that sound?” Inko asks with a tone of contempt in her voice to match the expression on her face. 

“Okay, Mama!” Izuku tries to inject excitement in his voice to try and hide the anxiety. Even to him at only six, he could tell something was wrong, that something terrible was going to happen. 

“Let's play hide and seek, Izuku. How about you find me first?” Inko asks, and Izuku nods, eager to please Inko, in any way he can. 

“Okay, how high can you count?” Inko hadn’t paid enough positive attention to Izuku to know, and his teachers hadn’t bothered keeping Inko up to date on Izuku’s schooling, they hadn’t bothered teaching him in the first place. Luckily Izuku was a bright and curious child who took his learning into his own hands. 

“Really high! Higher than the other kids,” To which they either didn’t believe or didn’t take well. So Izuku didn’t bring that up all that often. 

“Good, I want you to close your eyes and count as high as you can, and then come find me, okay?” Inko asks, and Izuku nods eagerly, ignoring the pit forming in his stomach.

Something felt wrong, but Izuku wasn’t about to make the situation worse. He was young, but by no means was he stupid. Izuku quickly closes his eyes and starts counting out loud, listening as the vegetation rustles as Inko supposedly goes to hide. He counts higher and higher and the higher he counts, the more his voice tapers off, the silence of the forest pressing in. He couldn’t hear Inko anymore, he couldn’t hear much of anything. It was unnerving to the small child, the silence of the forest, the rustling of trees, of small critters skittering around, and the calls of birds, echoing around. 

It gets too much, and Izuku opens his eyes, looking wildly around for Inko. Inko was nowhere to be seen. No pink cardigan peaking out behind a tree, no sight of her green hair, just the green of the forest. Well, she must have hidden really good this time, Izuku forces himself to think, continuing to look around. He circles around the area, checking behind trees and on the ground behind fallen trees, but there is no sight of Inko, or anyone else. Izuku, starting to panic, frantically starts looking into any shrubbery or anywhere else he can think to look for Inko. 

The forest was dense, and there was a lot of vegetation for Inko to hide behind, Izuku reasons to himself, breathing taking on a frantic air. But still, no Inko. 

“Mama! Mama, I give up! I can’t find you!” Izuku finally gives in, a panicked yell crashing through the relative peace of the forest. 

Izuku waits for Inko to speak up, or step out of some really good hiding spot, but the only thing that answers him is the natural sounds of the forest, which sounded scarier than they had just a little bit ago. 

“Mama! I’m sorry! I can’t find you, please come out!” Izuku screamed now, sounding frantic as he spun in circles, trying to catch sight of a pink cardigan or green hair. He doesn’t and is now hopelessly turned around. 

Izuku wasn’t sure how to make his way back before he ran around looking for Inko, now he had no hope of finding his way back, not without Inko or someone showing up to help him, maybe a hero would come and find him! That would be fun, being able to see them up close and in action for the first time! He had met Fatgum at the mall once, the hero filling up on Takoyaki, but he had never seen a hero in action before, and they would be saving him! 

Having no better plan, Izuku sits on a fallen log and waits. He remembered the lessons at school, if you were lost, you should find an adult in charge, like a hero or a policeman, or stay in the same place so you could be found. Izuku didn’t think he would be finding any heroes or policemen out in the forest, so he went with the second part of the lesson, staying put and waiting for someone to find him. 

If Izuku was lost, maybe Inko was lost as well, his little brain supplied, and worried about how he was going to get back to the resort. If Inko, a really smart adult, got lost playing hide and seek, then no wonder Izuku got lost. Everyone always said he was dumb, he figured getting lost in the forest only proved them right. 

After only a few minutes of waiting patiently, Izuku got bored, like any child his age would. Thankfully, ever prepared, he had his backpack and everything he had jammed in there. Deciding to take it all out carefully took too long, Izuku upended the backpack and watched an avalanche tumble out, landing noisily on the forest floor. 

Izuku was left with a pile of odds and ends, and anything a six-year-old thought would be useful on vacation. So, half the stuff was useful like a water bottle and snacks, and the other half were hero action figures, a library book, hero trading cards, and a battery-powered radio with a pair of headphones attached. 

Izuku decides to use the radio, tuning it into the prerecorded Put Your Hands Up Radio, and opens the library book, a book on quirk science. It was far above a typical six-year-old reading level, geared towards high school students. When he had checked it out from the library, he had almost been stopped by the librarian, who had suggested a more age-appropriate book about quirks, and Izuku ended up reading a paragraph to prove that he could read and understand the book. It was fascinating to Izuku, how quirks first evolved and became stronger as the generations went on. It was interesting, the trend charts between quirks, the physical difference between now and before quirks were first discovered, and the trend of quirks becoming stronger through the generations. The book even talked about theories behind the cause of the emergence of quirks. Some theorized that it was a new chemical released on accident, or on purpose, some thought it was caused by a worldwide pandemic around 2020. It was interesting, to hear all of the different theories. 

To the six-year-old, learning about something so integral to their society was more than just fascinating, it was his hope of finally becoming ‘normal’. Towards the back of the book, there was a chapter on force-manifested quirks, which was the main reason Izuku had chosen this book. Information on force-manifested quirks was hard to come by, it wasn’t readily available, for one reason or another, either it was taboo, or no one wanted to give anyone any ideas. Force-manifested quirks were rare, it took a lot of stress and strain for someone to manifest a quirk that wasn’t naturally theirs. 

It…had made Izuku think, thoughts that anyone sane wouldn’t even dream of. But Izuku was quirkless and the world treated him terribly for it. When there was something that could change that, even if what it would cost him would be so painful, it made him want to learn more about force manifested cases, and what caused them. 

It wasn’t common, and detailed accounts were harder to come across. No one wanted anyone using them as how-to manuals after all. But the books had some vague accounts, environmental accidents, lost at sea, stranded in a snowstorm, that sort of thing. But the book said enough and made enough connections. Situations that put the individual in stressful situations where the body is flooded with stress hormones and their life is in genuine and extreme danger forcing their body to evolve, or die. 

Izuku didn’t know how he would be in one of those situations, but he was starting to think that his current predicament was getting close to those in the book. It was getting dark, and the already brisk air was getting colder. He couldn’t see the book without the flashlight he had packed, and even he knew to save it for something better than re-reading a book he had read half a dozen times again. 

Izuku was really scared, and hungry, and thirsty. It was dark now, and when he turned on the flashlight, he could see his breath puffing out in fast, short bursts. It had been hours and hours since he last saw Inko. And he had already drunk and ate anything he had packed that morning. 

“Mama! Hello!? Is anyone there?!” Izuku screams out, finally breaking once the moon was high in the sky, its light filtering through the trees 

Inko was always good at whatever games they used to play. This didn’t feel like a game anymore. It had been hours, all alone, and Izuku was starting to realize Inko was long gone, that she either purposefully left him, or they were both hopelessly lost. Either way, it wasn’t good, and it didn’t change the fact that Izuku was all alone in a dark, cold, and scary forest. Izuku was a mature child for his age, but no matter how mature a six-year-old was, they, and especially Izuku, were prone to resorting to tears when the world got overwhelming. 

“Mama! Mama, please! I want to go back now!” Izuku cried, fat tears rolling down dirt-stained cheeks, making a bigger mess of the already distressed child. 

There was, predictably, no answer from Inko. Izuku was tired, and cold, and his legs hurt. He wanted to be brave, he wanted to sit and wait patiently for someone to rescue him, but he couldn’t. He was all alone and scared, and in a desperate act to try and keep himself safe, he curled up into a ball around his backpack, trembling as his body was racked with sobs and shivers. He was exhausted, having walked for hours with Inko, and still suffering from malnutrition. It wouldn’t have been a surprise to anyone who would later hear the story to know he fell asleep, curled up on the forest floor, back pressed against a fallen log, and backpack clutched tightly in his hands, acting as a mockery of a stuffed animal any other child might cling to in unfamiliar and scary situations. 

If Izuku were awake, if there was anyone else around, they would have seen the light. Starting from the edge of a nearby tree, it grew from a speck to bathing the surrounding forest in light, bright enough to be mistaken for day. It was a bright, warm light, and with it, it brought physical warmth, easing the tensed muscles in Izuku’s body. Suddenly, the once dark and scary woods felt like a retreat, and the once frightening dreams that plagued his mind eased. 

Out of the source stepped a woman, and if anyone was there to see, they would see that she shone brighter than the tree’s sliver of light, outshining any other source of light there might be. Dressed in a simple kimono of pure white, hair tied back loosely, leaving her painfully beautiful face on display. Perfectly pale skin, so smooth that it looks like the moon reflected in perfectly smooth water. Dark eyes took in the forest, searching for the soul that cried out with such fear and desperation, and such a young human. It was an odd experience, to feel such a young soul so full of fear and desperation, so far from any other who might help. 

She quickly found the source of anguish, and even throughout all her millennia, was surprised at what she saw. A young child, no older than six, lay on the forest floor, curled around a tattered sack with his back pressed against a fallen tree. A mop of green curls sat upon a freckled face, missing the baby fat it should still possess at his young age. He was covered in dirt and had what looked like the after-effects of a long bout of crying. It made no sense for a child of his age to be out here all alone at such a late hour. 

Gliding over to the child, the woman knelt with a steady figure, no sight of unbalance in her figure, even with the tall geta shoes the woman wore. Carefully pressing her fingertips to the boys forehead, she Saw everything she needed to in a fraction of a moment. 

The abuses his peers and teachers put him through, the fear he felt, and worst of all, she felt and Saw what the woman who birthed him, for the woman could not call Inko Midoriya his mother, put him through. She Saw the confusion in the small child, and she knew what the boy had not yet learned. Inko Midoriya had purposefully left her child, all of six years old, alone in a forest with the intention that he would never leave alive. It fueled a wave of anger long repressed, and it made pity well in the woman, in the great being before the child. 

“Oh dear child, how you have suffered. Rest now, sleep until you are ready to wake,” The woman spoke softly, voice barely heard in the clearing, and certainly not to the sleeping boy. With her words, a fresh wave of peace washed over Izuku. Even if against the odds, someone or something else was there to wake him, the boy wouldn’t, lulled into a deep sleep even the strongest typhoon wouldn’t be able to wake him from. It was a mercy, to let the boy sleep. It had been such a long time since Izuku had experienced such peace, he more than deserved it. 

Stooping low, the woman scooped Izuku up into her arms, holding the boy close as the warmth from the clearing was rapidly fading, condensing in on the two individuals. Izuku, deep in sleep, released the last of the tension in his small body, curling inward towards the woman, and the safety she offered. 

The light built and built, and before it reached its peak, the woman leaned down and kissed Izuku’s forehead, marking him for safe passage into the realm beyond. The light built into its peak, and with a great clap of thunder, and a flash brighter than lightning, both the woman and the child she cradled in her arms disappeared without a trace of the woman and with only a small flashlight left as the only trace of the boy. 

“Damn it!” 

Aizawa swore, slamming a fist onto the desk as Tsukauchi finished his sentence, voice somber as he finally, officially, calls off the search for Izuku Midoriya, who had been missing for a week now. 

“Aizawa, I know it's upsetting, but I would appreciate it if you didn’t destroy my desk. Breaking my desk, or your hand, will not change the fact that those in charge have decided there is no way for Izuku to still be alive, especially since he was Quirkless and perceived as weaker than his peers. 

“They can’t just call off the search! He could still be out there, his body at least! They shouldn’t…they should have more than his memory,” Aizawa’s voice faded and he slumped down in his chair, seeming much older than his actual twenty-two years of age. Tsuakuchi was in a similar state, an air of defeat hanging around the two of them. 

The two of them had been on the Midoriya case since it was first called in. Inko Midoriya had gone out on a nature hike with her six-year-old son, Izuku. She had returned hours later, looked harried and stressed, covered in sweat and dirt and crying, claiming Izuku had run off into the forest, and had disappeared before she was able to stop him. One of the staff members was suspicious though, possessing a minor passive empathy quirk and detected something off in Inko’s emotions. She wasn’t feeling the overwhelming anxiety one would expect from a mother with a child lost in the forest. Sure, there was a minor twinge of anxiety underneath, but the emotions at the forefront were relief, pride, and satisfaction, emotions a mother who just lost her child shouldn’t be feeling. 

Once emergency responders arrived, along with search and rescue, the employee pulled aside an officer. It had made its way through the chain of command until Tsukauchi had received a request to help, his truth quirk would be invaluable to discovering if Izuku’s disappearance was truly an accident or something more nefarious. 

It only took an hour and a half questioning and the reveal of what Tsukauchi’s quirk was, for her story to crumble and for her to admit what she had done. Aizawa had sat in on the interview, and only the presence of the other had prevented either of them from lunging across the interview table at Inko Midoriya. 

“She left him out there! She pretended to play hide and seek, and she left her six-year-old alone in the forest, and she’s not even sorry!” Aizawa roars and his quirk activates without permission, scarf and hair floating as his eyes blazed red. 

“I know and she’s going to face justice for what she did. She intentionally left her child out in the forest with the intention that he would die from the elements, she isn’t going to get away with that,” Tsukauchi tries to placate, even if he himself is furious at the woman and the situation. 

“That doesn’t change the fact that Izuku is gone, Tsukauchi,” Aizawa growls out and turns away, heaving a sigh as he attempts to rein in his emotions. 

“I know, but we can’t change that, no matter how much we want to. Go home, and spend time with your fiance. We all need a break from this, no matter how much we wish it wouldn’t have turned out this way,” Tsukauchi sighs and goes for his coffee, which he finds empty. 

“Looks like you could need a break too,” Aizawa points out and Tsukauchi nods tiredly, rubbing his eyes. 

“I’m going home after I finish this file’s paperwork,” Tsuakuchi admits, and Aizawa nods, still troubled. 

“You’re going after the school next, right?” Aizawa asks and Tsukauchi nods, sighing. 

“Good. I’ve aimed Nezu at them already. Knowing Nezu, he probably already has a stack of files on everyone involved. Be on the lookout for anything from him,” Aizawa warns and Tsukauchi shudders, flashing back to one of the few times he had met the rat principal. 

“I don’t know how you work for him, seeing him occasionally scares the shit out of me,” 

“Trust me, after being his personal student for two years, you build up a thick skin. Just be glad he isn’t coming after you,” 

Both men shudder at this, remembering the sights of those who had the full force of Nezu after them. Neither wanted to experience that for themselves. Nezu may act human at times, but he could be as vicious as any animal. 

“I would almost pity them if I didn’t know what they had done,” 

Maybe Nezu would have mercy on their souls with the gift of Aldera Elementary School. Maybe he would be a forgiving god whenever either of them eventually fucked up. After all, Nezu did love tearing apart corrupt educational institutes. 

Chapter Text

The clearing was calm, the wind rippling through the long grasses, uninterrupted until it met a hard stone pillar, rising from the soft earth below. While nearly eight years have passed since the last time Izuku was in the clearing, nothing had changed, for the most part at least. There was barely any sight of human touch within the clearing, except for one pillar of carved stone. 

Even though it had been years, Izuku still carried the memory of the clearing with sharp clarity. Though the emotions were now dulled with time, the sharp grief, fear, and sadness he felt all those years ago were brought back with a sudden wave of recollection that nearly knocked him to his knees. In the years since he had left the human realm, he had processed the pain and memories he had taken with him, but being back at the very place he was at his lowest, the most fearful and full of agony, brought them up again as if no time had passed at all. 

“Izuku, breathe. We don’t have to be here if you changed your mind. You don’t have to go back, there’s no reason why you have to come back here, to these people.” Hana’s voice was gentle, but hid none of the disgust she felt for the human world and the people that inhabited it. 

It was Hana, all those years ago, who had appeared in that very clearing and swept Izuku away to safety. Hana, like Izuku, held no love for the human world. Unlike Izuku, Hana hated humans as much as a being could hate humans. Izuku knew from his own experiences that humans could be awful creatures, twisted by hate and malice, but he could never force himself to hate all of humanity because of the actions of a few. 

Izuku had asked before why she hated them so much, because even with all of the abuse he himself had faced, he had never found it in himself to hate them as much as Hana did. She never answered, no matter how many times he questioned her. Eventually, Izuku learned to stop asking, and it became an established point of mutual disagreement. 

“But I do have to go back. Can you tell me, honestly, that I am fully accepted and welcome in Reikai? That the others don’t look at me and wonder why I’m there, even all of these years later? I don’t blame them, or you, but I will always be human to them, no matter how hard I try not to be. I’m not saying I’ll stay forever, I might not even make it into a school, but I want to try. Everyone else says I’m too human, and I’m not even sure I remember what it’s like to be human. Do you know what that’s like? To have everyone around you look at you as if you’re something other?” Izuku asks, and can’t hide the sharp bite in his words. 

It was a sore spot for Izuku. Ever since he turned four and was diagnosed, he was considered ‘other’ by everyone around him. First, it was being quirkless, then it was being the only living human in the reikai. He had never known what it was like to be accepted by those around him. Now, he had the chance to see what it was like, for the very first time. 

“But you aren’t like them! You’ve seen and lived in the world beyond, the power you made for yourself isn’t like theirs. They will be afraid of you when they find out how different you are,” Hana insists, and Izuku can’t help the shock that floods him. 

Hana was against Izuku going back to the human world, he had been thinking about returning to the human world for around a year by that point, it wasn’t a huge surprise, but Hana was acting as if he had declared he was going to become a nudist who lives in the middle of the woods, in fact, he would probably have received a better reaction if he had decided to do that. 

“And I’m not like you! And everyone else in the Reikai! I am the only human who is alive. I am completely alone in the reikai, with no one else like me. And the other humans won’t question my abilities. Almost everyone has some kind of power. I’m not leaving you, and I know I’ll return to the reikai one day, whether that be tomorrow or in sixty years when I die old and grey, it’s my home. But I need to do this now, to meet and get to know people my own age, who are like me. I need you to understand that,” Izuku nearly begs, and watches for Hana’s reaction. 

Izuku didn’t know how to categorize his relationship with Hana. She had been the one all of those years ago to save him, from this very same clearing, but she was a citizen of the reikai. Her understanding of humans was limited at the best of times, let alone the bias she carried with her, even if it was unintentional. The best Izuku could call her was an emotionally distant aunt. While he lived in her home, she never acted anything like his mother. She taught and guided him plenty, but the unconditional love Izuku had read about was missing, as was all of the sweet moments he had imagined between mother and child. 

“I don’t, Izuku. I don’t know why you would leave the reikai, but I’ll let you find out for yourself. Call, and I’ll come, I always will. If you go northwest for ten miles, you’ll find the resort you stayed at before you came to the reikai. Fate has told me she’ll smile upon your journey. I trust that you’ll make the best decisions,” Hana declared, and took a step back, and Izuku took a step forward, widening the distance between them. 

“Thank you, Hana, for trusting me. I know you dislike humans, but they really aren’t as bad as you think they are,” Izuku tries to reason, for the millionth time, and gets the exact same sigh in response. 

“And I still think you give them too much grace. You forget how you came to the reikai, how your own mother abandoned you in this same clearing. You need to remember how much hate humans can have in their hearts,” Hana warns, and Izuku nods, still disagreeing but refusing to voice it any further. Izuku and Hana never agreed, and it always devolved into a screaming match followed by weeks of silence. Izuku didn’t want to leave Hana in that state. 

“Thank you again. And I’m sorry,” Izuku doesn’t fully know what he’s apologizing for: his inability to hate humans, his desire to go back to the human world, his inability to accept Hana’s offer, what had started this entire issue in the first place, or something else entirely. 

“As Am I. Be well, Izuku, and find your way back to the reikai when you are ready.” 

Izuku couldn’t decipher the tone of voice Hana used and the expression she wore. Something between grief and resignation that didn’t seem to fit her face in the least. It was as if she was saying goodbye for the last time, and Izuku didn’t like it one bit. Grief crashed down on him, and he knew, somehow, that nothing would ever be the same again. Something had just ended, and he didn’t know how to feel about that. 

Bright, pure light filled the clearing, exactly as it was eight years ago, and Izuku was forced to close his eyes. Even though he spent years among the divine and pure, he was never able to bear looking as the barrier was ripped open. When the light faded, the clearing was somehow darker and colder than it had been before. 

“Okay, Izuku, you heard her, find the resort, figure it out from there,” Izuku mumbled to himself. It had been years, and he had never managed to break himself from the unfortunate habit. 

Izuku was prepared; Hana had made sure of that, but as he set off, he wondered if she had intentionally misled him. Hana was a great many things, including mean-spirited if you pissed her off enough. Memories from eight years ago flooded his brain, and he fought for self-control as all of the emotions of the past were brought with them. 

As he made his way through the silent forest, he wondered what exactly was going to happen once he reached humanity again. Inko was in jail and would be long after he reached the age of majority. She had, after all, been convicted of his murder, which might have to change as it would be downgraded to attempted murder. Either way, there was little doubt that Izuku wouldn’t be going back into his mother's custody. 

Foster care was the best he could hope for. As far as he knew, he had no other family members. His father and mother were both only children. Hisashi’s parents had died before Izuku was born, and Inko’s parents died in a car crash when he was two. Izuku knew of no other family members, living or dead. Izuku didn’t mind the idea of foster care; he wasn’t going to be going into it as a quirkless runt. In the years he had spent in the reikai, he had both filled out physically and gained his own version of a quirk; he dared anyone to try and hurt him again. 

But maybe he shouldn’t be starting his life anew with violence on his mind. There was no reason why he should be preparing for violence. If anything, he should be ready to be questioned within an inch of his life. It’s not every day someone comes back from the dead. Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, Izuku questioned himself, and he walked on, mind churning over the expected questions and the answers he would give. 

********************

“Welcome in! Thank you for visiting the resort today. Do you have a reservation?” Izuku pulled up short at the front desk, startled and feeling more than a little embarrassed. 

He had spent hours coming up with ways to lie and side-step the truth, but had never considered how exactly he was going to introduce himself and get the attention of the authorities. Well, he figured dialing 119 was a good enough idea. 

“Hi, um, could I borrow a phone? I got a little lost,” Izuku asks politely and gets a quick, if confused, nod. The woman on the other side of the counter quickly shuffles around behind the desk and produces a landline for Izuku to use. 

Izuku fumbled with the buttons for a moment before managing to dial the number and wait for the line to ring until it connected, the brisk voice of a man answering and asking what his emergency was, getting down to business with no fanfare. 

“Um, hi, I’ve never done this before. Ah, first off, I’m fine, so is everyone else, so no real emergency. So, uh, my name is Izuku Midoriya. I think I may be listed as a missing person. Or um, a murder victim? I’m not too sure how they classified my disappearance. Um, I don’t have much else that you need to know if a police officer could come get me?” Izuku’s voice was soft and unsure. The once calm and collected lady who stood behind the desk started to crack, and first confusion, and then alarm, broke through the facade she wore like a mask. 

“Are you okay? Can I get you anything? Food, water, a chair maybe?” The woman offers, and Izuku nods, smiling. 

“Could I just grab a glass of water, if you don’t mind?” Izuku asks, rather parched from his hike. He didn’t need the water and could function just fine without it, but if the woman was offering, he wouldn’t be turning her down. 

“Of course! Just have a seat, and I’ll be right back!” The woman practically flew away in a rush, and Izuku is left blinking in surprise, startled at the abrupt departure of the woman. 

**************************

“Aizawa speaking,” 

It was late, or rather early, and all Shouta wanted to do was climb into bed after a scalding shower. He had gotten to the bathroom, but had been delayed by the loud, rather rude, ringing of his work phone. 

“Aizawa, where are you?” Tsukauchi’s voice came through the phone, sounding much more strained than it should have at six in the morning after getting off his night shift. He should be at home, finally asleep after the chaotic night they had both had. 

“At home, with Zashi. Why?” Aizawa asks, and is met by the gusty, exhausted sigh he was all too familiar with that usually indicated a giant stack of work waiting for both of them. 

“I need you to not overreact to what I’m going to say next. Everything is currently stable, and there is nothing you can do at the moment,” Tsukauchi starts, and Shouta begins to feel his blood pressure rise right alongside his irritation. 

“Tsukauchi, spit it out already,” Shouta can’t help but bark, and immediately feels the nagging of guilt. Tsukauchi had just as long a shift, but Shouta was tired and all he wanted to do was crawl into bed with Hizashi and try to catch an hour or two of sleep before being forced to attend the teacher's meeting at UA. 

“They found Izuku, alive. He walked in the front door of the Hoshizora retreat last night. He’s been transported to Musutafu Children's Center; he just arrived an hour ago,” Tsukauchi spoke in a rush, as if unsure if he would be able to get all of the words out before an inevitable explosion. 

Shouta stood, stock still and barely breathing. He honestly wasn’t sure how to react. Izuku’s supposed death had wrecked Shouta and Hizashi. Shouta threw himself into championing the search for Izuku, and Hizashi threw himself into trying to keep Shouta from burning himself out. It had taken years, but Hizashi had managed to drag both of them back from the edge. Now, it felt as if Shouta was going to go hurtling over it all over again. 

“Shouta? Are you still there?” Tsukauchi asks, and Shouta forces himself to take a breath, chasing away the dark edges of his vision. 

“Still here. How is he? What’s his condition?” Shouta forces himself to ask, focusing on the practical as his mind screams the improbable. 

“Alive, uninjured as far as anyone can tell. He refused any in-depth medical exam; the best the paramedics got was some vitals and a visual exam. He started to get agitated, and it was decided to leave him be until he calmed down. I don’t blame him; he’s had a long night. They finally got him to sleep about twenty minutes ago, as far as I can tell. I’m not assigned to the case, but Sansa was able to pull some strings. After he sleeps for a few hours, I’ll be interviewing him. My quirk is really the only reason they are even letting me on the case. Given our…history, the brass is reluctant to let either of us near Izuku,” Tsukauchi reluctantly admits, and Shouta starts the breathing exercises Inui had drilled into his head through hours of forced therapy. 

“Are you telling me that because we tried to get justice for Izuku, they won’t let us help now?” Shouta asks, his voice tightening in his anger. 

“You punched his home room teacher multiple times when you arrested him,” Tsukauchi points out, and Shouta restrains a growl of irritation. 

“He resisted arrest, the video surveillance showed as much. I was fully cleared,” 

“You cracked two teeth, broke his left orbital floor, and nearly caused him to go blind in his left eye. He was a middle-aged lump of lard school teacher; he wasn’t able to put up that much of a fight.” Tsukauchi’s voice wasn’t necessarily disapproving, but it was displeased. 

“The sack of shit deserved it, and you damn well know it. What he did to Izuku, what he allowed and encouraged the other kids to do to him, he starved Izuku, Tsukauchi. What would you have done?” Shouta asks, attempting to stay focused on the issue at hand. 

“Arrested him, like we did. I’m not saying you were wrong. I wanted to do worse, but it does make you a liability working on his case,” Tsukauchi points out, and Shouta can’t even argue against it, as it was true. He wasn’t about to admit that to Tsukauchi, though. 

“Fine. You’ll figure out how to get me in the room anyway. We’ll get a room ready, it’ll be the two of us who take him in after all, we’re all up to date with our foster license and we’re the best equipped to protect him,” Shouta makes the decision he and Hizashi had decided on years ago. 

“You don’t know if they’ll allow the placement, Aizawa. You’re both pro heroes who have five jobs between the two of you; they might not feel comfortable placing a most likely emotionally damaged child in your care.” 

“He’s quirkless. I hate it, but they won’t give a shit about him. We’re the best he’ll have. Imagine what the system would do to him. Do you really think it’ll be worse with us?” Shouta asks, although it wasn’t serious. They both knew that the chances of Izuku getting a good placement were slim to none. 

“Do what you have to do, Aizawa. I would start off by telling your husband that you’ll most likely have a house guest by the end of the day, though.” 

Shouta can’t help but wince at the idea. When Hizashi decides something, he goes in full force. The spare bedroom was already set up as such, but knowing a young boy was about to inhabit the bland, sparse room, he would decorate it with anything he thought Izuku would like. It would barely show up as a blip on their finances; they had plenty of money, but the emotional drain of chasing Hizashi around a shopping mall wasn’t something he was looking forward to. Maybe he could rope Tensei into taking his place, or Nemuri. 

But before he roped one of his friends into taking the brunt of Hizashi’s shopping craze, he would have to actually go and tell his husband about their soon-to-be new roommate. 

“Thanks, Tsukauchi. Call when you know anything,” Shouta hung up before Tsukauchi could object. 

Now, all he was faced with was waking up a very tired Hizashi and letting him know there was a very good chance he was about to have a child to spoil, something he loved doing regularly, as Tenya could tell anyone. When he heard about Izuku’s past, Shouta wasn’t sure there was anything that could stop Hizashi from driving them into financial ruin if he thought it would make Izuku happy. It seemed as if his once peaceful life was about to be upended yet again, and Shouta couldn’t be happier about it.