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Chapter Text

Horrified, standing in her dorm bathroom, Izuku stared down at the plastic in her hands. Nausea clawed from her stomach to her throat until it played her reflex to gag and had her slump down to her knees in front of the toilet, retching, and coughing out bile that felt acidic as it came out. She cried, all she wanted was her mommy right then, but her mom would never come to her rescue, not like moms normally did for their kids. Her mom never had come for her when she was scared or hurt; if she did, it was only to keep up appearances while she was still around. It felt moronic to cry for her moms' comfort when she hadn’t felt it once over her 15 years of life.

She usually hated to be touched, for fear of pain, for fear of anything other than gentle warmth against her skin, but all she wanted was a hug right then. Izuku sobbed, the air she breathed feeling too hot and making her sweat, she gagged again and threw up once more, another sob tearing its way through as all she threw up was clear, acidic bile, evidence of her unwillingness to eat having grown worse than it typically was.

Looking down at the plastic stick, Izuku scrunched her nose, squinting against the urge to cry as she shoved it into a random drawer and let herself throw up again.

Disgusting. She felt disgusting. Izuku was dirty, she was dirty, and now… Izuku felt as though those hands were still running over her skin, that wet, slimy mouth on her neck and chest again, she trembled, and shivered, memories of that voice, husky, thin, and vile, racing through her head. The voice told her all the things she was in his eyes, all the things she’d be seen as when people found out.

Bitch.

Slut.

Whore.

Throwing up again, she sobbed, miserable, wiping her chin and leaning against the wall when she believed herself to be done. She couldn’t believe he was still out there, probably doing the same to another girl, because Izuku had been too fearful to report what had happened.

Inside the random drawer in her bathroom, lay a plastic stick. The plastic stick that told her she was pregnant, much to her horror.

Hitoshi knew something had happened to his friend a couple of months back. She had stopped smiling altogether, it had already been hard enough to find her smile before, Izuku barely spoke, and when she did, it was so painfully soft, it hurt Hitoshi not to gently pull her aside and hug her, ask if she was alright and comfort her no matter her answer. 

Izuku didn’t slip in her training, she improved where she could and failed sometimes in areas she wasn’t the best in, just as she always had, but sometimes she seemed to stop being present in the middle of a sparring match. Once, Shoto had grabbed her by the back of the neck while sparring and she had gone as limp as a puppet on cut strings. Hitoshi had watched as Shoto immediately got on his knees in front of her and cupped either side of her face, talking to her softly until she finally seemed to come back to herself. Mr Aizawa had been concerned, Hitoshi had seen it in the way he came to stand nearby, but far enough to not interfere with Shoto guiding Izuku back to a state of grounded.

Shoto was a good friend, and Hitoshi was glad he understood the importance of being gentle with Izuku. He wasn’t sure if Shoto knew something had to have happened to Izuku like Hitoshi did because at times he tended to be oblivious to things unsaid, but Hitoshi liked to think he too had picked up on it, even if only subconsciously.

Something had happened to his friend. His best friend, who was a year younger than him, was too smart to not have skipped a grade in order to be where she was today. His sweethearted best friend, who was too quiet, too gentle, and too precious for Hitoshi not to care about. He wanted to know what happened, but he did not want to push for an answer, he was scared that would make her cry. For now, he settled on being a constant in Izuku’s life, letting her know he was nearby sitting with her in common spaces, and leaving his dorm door open as a silent invitation for her to come in should she like to.

Something was going on with his youngest student. Izuku Midoriya had barely turned 15 a month back, and a month before she turned 15, something happened that sapped what little light she had right out of her.

Shota cared about all of his students. He was extra protective over Midoriya though. Not only was she the youngest, but out of everyone, he felt she needed the extra attention, not in the way Denki needed the extra help because of his dyslexia, or in the way Todoroki did when he got lost on a social cue.

Midoriya… Seemed like she needed love. Care. He didn’t know why he thought so. She had a mother, no father, as far as he knew, he hadn’t met the woman when he went to talk to her before the school year began about the dorm system that had been implemented for the coming year, she hadn’t been there, Izuku had been alone, and told him her mother would send the paperwork in. Shota had gotten the paperwork, signed with permission for Izuku to move onto campus. Her tuition was getting paid, and Nezu confirmed it was Inko Midoriya paying it.

When he asked Izuku why her mother didn’t answer any calls, she had replied with how packed her mother’s schedule was, how during the day, her mother was asleep, and all hours between 9 PM and 8 AM she was working the night shift at the Musutafu Hospital. Her mother was apparently the head nurse on the night shift.

Still, Shota often tried the woman's phone of course, and had even visited the hospital in an attempt to catch her, but apparently, she was much too busy to disturb, according to another nurse, so because he respected their efforts, he had left. Every call still went to voicemail.

If he couldn’t get in touch with the older Midoriya, he wondered how often his student got to talk to her. It was heavily concerning in his eyes, but he was sure the girl would lie if he were to ask. He didn’t want to make her overthink or panic if he asked the wrong questions. Shota knew Midoriya was one to overthink.

She was his quietest student, Koda was quiet, but Midoriya was silent in comparison. Midoriya was a mouse, surrounded by noisy cats and dogs. She was introverted, but Shinso and Todoroki, fellow introverts, had managed to get her comfortable in their presence. Shota wasn’t sure how much she trusted him, Midoriya seemed to have an issue with teachers being too close or asking too many questions, it was incredibly concerning, but Shota was pretty sure she had warmed up to him a bit over the months he’d been her teacher and main caretaker at the dorms. 

Something had happened though. One day, she was her usual quiet, almost content self, but then she left campus for the weekend and came back… blank. She was near silent almost constantly, easier to flinch, and just seemed so sad sometimes that Shota felt sad too. He had asked a couple of times if she was doing alright and only got a simple nod in response before she would walk away.

Then there was that sparring match Midoriya had against Todoroki, where in an attempt to pin her, Todoroki had grabbed her neck and she had gone… horrifically limp, eyes glazed over in a way he hadn’t seen in his student. He wanted to go over and ground her at the time, but Todoroki was surprisingly quick to start the grounding process with her.

Shota was concerned, but he wasn’t sure what he could do if she wasn’t going to talk to him, besides silently observe, and discretely try and investigate what went wrong.

Izuku is his friend. His first friend, Shoto had siblings, but growing up, he was so isolated, that he had never had the opportunity to find someone like Izuku before. She was his best friend. He loves her dearly and would do anything for her.

He wished his friend would talk to him.

She had gone away for a weekend and come back too quiet, and Izuku never smiled anymore. It reminded him of himself over the years, himself before Izuku came along, except that he was angry too. Izuku… She was sad.

After the sparring match, where everything was fine until Shoto grabbed his friend by the back of the neck, he never used that move on her again. The vacant look in her eyes reminded him terrifyingly of how his mother had looked many times before her breakdown, and how she looked in every family photo from before he was born. He remembered the ways his sister had tried grounding him when he had similar reactions to things, and he had used them to help Izuku back to awareness. He had held the girl's face in his hands, and he thought maybe that helped with bringing her back, the different temperatures of his skin against hers.

He and Hitoshi tended to avoid touching Izuku most of the time, though she never told them not to touch her, it was because they had seen her tense and flinch at many touches outside of training. Thankfully, so long as they were gentle and she could see it coming, she rarely flinched with them, though sometimes did tense. Shoto was so glad he hadn’t frightened Izuku when she came out of her dissociation, she hadn’t flinched or tensed, simply moved away, blinking rapidly, and breathing out a barely there apology that he gently waved away.

He would ask what happened if he thought Izuku was willing to talk about whatever it was that sent her silent, but he didn’t think she would tell him, so instead, he sat with her when he could, hoping she knew he knew something was up, but was giving her time.

Chapter Text

Hitoshi was heading up to Izuku’s dorm with the dinner she hadn’t come down for, and Shoto at his side. She rarely came to eat with them, and he wasn’t sure how often she ever ate anything, she was small, thin, and it wasn’t good to not eat in their future line of work, but he didn’t feel it was his place to pry or push. Still, he brought her food when she missed a meal, and if it wasn’t him, it was Shoto, or it was both of them together, like this time.

As they approached the door they were silent, but they walked closer together than Hitoshi would do with just anyone. Maybe it was because they were friends, or because he trusted Shoto. They both shared a glance once they stopped outside, they both quietly loathed the room that was Izuku’s dorm, because it was empty in a way that wasn’t minimalist, instead empty like she had nothing back home to bring.

Shoto knocked on the door gently, there was a clatter loud enough to be heard through the soundproofing that had Hitoshi worried. There was a bit of a wait for them before Izuku finally opened the door, not that either of them, or at least Hitoshi, minded, especially upon seeing Izuku when she peeked out from her cracked open door.

An oversized, well-worn, grey sweater drowned her frame, it was old and threadbare at the seams, fuzzy socks that Hitoshi remembered Mina giving her, pink and stripey, covered her feet, long green curls tangled, dishevelled. Her knees were red like she had been sitting on them for a while, they matched her red-rimmed eyes, and flushed pink cheeks, her skin seemed more pale than usual outside of the flush, her freckles stood out like black on white. Izuku’s eyes, her sad, green, doe eyes, were glassy like she had been crying.

Silently, before either of them could say anything, Izuku opened the door wider, allowing them entry to her barren bedroom. As always, Hitoshi set the plate, full with rice and mildly spicy curry, on Izuku’s desk before turning to her, seeing Shoto offering Izuku a sticker.

Hitoshi had discovered a couple of months into being friends with Shoto, that one of their classmates had encouraged him to use stickers to express his feelings when he wasn’t quite sure how. He used hearts for concern, love, and understanding, which was what he was giving Izuku.

Izuku was trembling, she had been since she opened the door. Hitoshi stepped closer. “Izuku,” He called, getting a glance. “... Do you need a hug?” Hitoshi found himself asking, seeing Shoto nod next to him, seeming like he would gladly hug her.

With a gasping breath, eyes glossy with tears, Izuku nodded, looking about ready to collapse. Both he and Shoto moved closer, gently wrapping their arms around her, taking her weight when her legs gave out, lowering her down to the ground and settling there with her in their arms. Hitoshi glanced up at Shoto, who glanced back before moving a hand to brush Izuku’s hair back out of her face as she started to sob. Her hands clutched at their arms and pressed them harder against her body, which Hitoshi immediately took as she needed them to hug tighter, needed the pressure of being closed in between them, and immediately complied, feeling Shoto follow his lead. There was a soft, relieved sound Izuku made at the pressure between her sobs.

Ok, this is just getting worse, whatever is going on with her. Maybe I should pry, because she’s just… Miserable.

“Hey, Izuku,” Shoto murmured, Hitoshi looked up to see him ducking his head down to see their friend's face. “You know you can talk to us about anything , don’t you?” It seemed that Shoto was on the same wavelength as Hitoshi. “You don’t even have to speak if you don’t want to, but if there was anything you wanted to share, you could just write it down, you know?”

“He’s right, Izuku,” Hitoshi sighed, keeping his tight hold on Izuku as he rested his chin on her shoulder. “Anytime. We’re friends, and you’ve helped us before, so if there was any way we could help you in return, I think we’re both open to trying our best. Even if it’s getting you sweets while on your period or something.”

Izuku gave a particularly loud sob after he said that, and he worried he had been rude by accident, or if she was just that sad. He had never really excelled in knowing what to say, or if what he was saying was impolite. Thankfully, if he did say something rude, it didn’t offend Izuku enough for her to pull away, because instead she leaned further into their holds.

“Izuku, you’re gonna cry yourself sick at this rate,” Shoto hummed, looking up to Hitoshi and mouthing, ‘What do we do?’ as if Hitoshi knew any more than he did how to help their friend.

“Let’s get you some water, hm?” Hitoshi suggested, looking around and spotting a half-empty glass on Izuku’s nightstand. “Shoto, can you grab that cup, please?”

“Of course,” Shoto replied immediately, reluctantly releasing Izuku to grab the glass and hold it to Izuku’s lips. “Slow, small sips, Izuku.”

Sniffling, Izuku drank slowly, leaning back against Hitoshi’s chest. She had begun to settle, but she was still crying, still upset, and didn’t seem anywhere near ready to be released yet. “Is there… Is there anything you want to tell us, Izuku? Because, you know, we’re getting pretty worried about you lately.” Hitoshi spoke to her softly, his hold around her still carefully constricting. Shoto set the glass aside when it was empty, sitting cross-legged in front of Izuku, reaching out to run his fingers through Izuku’s tangled hair. Hitoshi noticed he was carefully avoiding her neck and immediately respected and appreciated his care for Izuku’s triggers.

There were a few minutes of quiet, where they let Izuku cry, not pushing for any answers, Hitoshi tightened his hold on her whenever she silently pleaded for him to with gentle tugs to his sleeves. Shoto continued to pet her hair.

Then, Izuku reached out to Shoto and rasped. “Bathroom drawers, look in them.” Voice weak and thin from disuse, she had barely said a word all week, and Shoto immediately nodded, grabbing her hand and squeezing it before releasing her and heading to her bathroom to do just that.

At the soft request, Shoto had no hesitation, he went to do as asked.

He walked into her little dorm bathroom, her counter was slightly messy with cheap-looking products, it was mostly makeup, concealer that Shoto knew she used to hide her eyebags and scars.

Crouching down, he got to looking through her drawers, which were mostly empty. One drawer had three small boxes of tissues, A box of what was labeled as ‘boob tape’, which made him feel bad for looking in her drawers despite just doing as he was asked, and a first aid kit, which he looked inside to find was mostly empty. Another drawer had scissors, a box of razors, along with some random products Shoto was pretty sure she hadn’t bought herself and had most likely been given to her by their classmates.

In the last drawer, there was basically nothing, except a toiletry bag, menstrual products, and…

Shoto picked up what he was seeing, eyes wide, and immediately left the bathroom, crouching in front of Izuku. “You’re pregnant?” He asked, holding up the pregnancy test, which he was pretty sure was positive. Hitoshi’s breath hitched, his eyes widening, but Shoto was more focused on the way Izuku began to break down again. Setting the test on the floor, Shoto leaned forward, grabbing her hands. “Hey, hey, breathe, talk to us, how’d this happen?”

He knew how sex worked, he had taken Sex Ed in middle school, he wasn’t that naive, but thinking over the way Izuku had been acting since June… A horrific picture was painted in his head. Hitoshi seemed to be thinking the same way if Shoto was reading the look on his face correctly.

“I-” Izuku hiccupped, gripping his hands as tears welled up in her eyes again. “I went home for- for the weekend, I had- Had some things th-that needed done, but- but on th-the Saturday night, after- I- after I had gone to pick up some th-things from the store, someone broke i-into my apartment, they had followed me home- I- I couldn’t fight him off- he wouldn’t get off-” Shoto could see the way she was starting to panic, and it seemed Hitoshi could too, because he tightened his grip, even as he stared down at her with wide, worried eyes. 

Shoto cupped her face, directing her gaze up to meet his. “Izuku. Were you.. Raped?” He asked gently but firmly, starting to mentally kick himself for not pushing. Izuku sobbed, nodding. “Ok, ok, Izuku, did you report it?” Shoto asked softly, and with eyes filled with what Shoto recognized as shame, Izuku shook her head. “Alright, that’s ok, Izuku. Do you know what you want to do about… About your pregnancy?”

“I don’t want it- I don’t want it, it’s in me, I don’t want it-” Izuku instantly cried, Shoto wiped her tears as she sobbed, looking up to see Hitoshi furiously blinking away the gloss of tears in his eyes, holding Izuku in the firm hold she had asked for. “I want it out- I’m only 15! I don’t want a baby, I don’t- I don’t want a baby in me-”

“Oh, Izuku,” Hitoshi murmured, looking up at Shoto helplessly before looking back down at Izuku. “We’ll figure something out, but Izuku, you know, in order to do that, we have to talk to Aizawa,” Izuku whined at that. Shoto ran his right thumb over her nose gently to distract her enough to keep her from panicking. “I know, it’s scary, but you need a doctor, especially if… Especially if you want to get an abortion. Either Aizawa or your Mom, seeing as both have half custody of you.”

Rubbing Izuku’s cheeks with his thumbs, Shoto tilted his head, speaking softly. “Did you tell your mom?” Shoto was aware of how little Izuku spoke of her mom, and he suspected abuse, or at least neglect, because of it, but he wasn’t the most sure of that theory because he had so little to go off of. If Izuku had been suffering in silence, all alone…

“N-No, no,” She shook her head and didn’t explain further, absently leaning back into Hitoshi’s chest as he rocked her soothingly. Sniffling, Izuku looked up at him. “I don’t want to be pregnant.”

“We know, Izuku,” Shoto replied gently, shuffling closer to join the hug, his head coming to rest on Hitoshi’s shoulder, carefully petting Izuku’s curls. “It’ll be alright. You won’t have to have this baby, ok? We’ll talk to Aizawa and get you a doctor's appointment. Aizawa will find the guy that hurt you, we can find a therapist you’re comfortable with when you’re ready. No matter what, Hitoshi and I? We’re your friends and we’re here for you. We won’t leave.”

“That’s right, Shoto’s completely right, the three of us? Tight as leather pants.” Hitoshi added quietly, Shoto felt the vibrations as he spoke, his simile was humorous, but he didn’t dare laugh at a time like this. “We’re here for you, like you’re there for us, and we’re there for each other. We’re a team. Now, Izuku, Honey, is there anything else , anything at all, that you might want to talk about? Or has tonight been too much? It’s alright if you don’t want to talk anymore.”

“I…” Izuku sniffled, hesitating. “... I haven’t seen my Mom since before UA started.” Shoto was right about neglect then, but it sounded more like his friend was abandoned. “She pays the bills for the apartment, pays for me- me to go to school, but I don’t see- see or hear from her.”

“Right, that’s another thing to tell, Aizawa, ok? Don’t panic, no, no, breathe. We will help you talk to him. It’s ok.” Hitoshi soothed Izuku quickly after his comment when her breath anxiously hitched, tightening his grip around her waist.

“Agreed, if it gets too much, we will talk to Aizawa for you, no problem. Now, one last question, Izuku,” Izuku glanced up at him, her eyes sad and teary, cheeks flushed from her crying. “Besides your neck, is there anywhere specific you don’t want to be touched?”

Izuku was silent for a long moment before she gestured vaguely to her breasts and between her thighs. He could guess why.

“Thank you for telling us, Izuku,” Hitoshi murmured, gently squeezing Izuku. “I’m glad you’re letting us be here for you. What you've been through, you… You shouldn’t have to go through anything alone.”

“Yes, thank you, Izuku,” Shoto murmured agreeingly, adding his own gentle squeeze. “We’re here for you.”

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Chapter Text

“What are you three doing here?” Shota asked at the sight of three of his students at his dorm door. He glanced at Shinso, who had an upset look on his face that was tinged with anger that he was sure had to do with why his kids were here. Shota looked at Todoroki, finding he wasn’t looking at him, and instead was looking at Midoriya, an arm around her back, both hands grasping her arms. Then he turned his gaze to Midoriya and paused.

She was shaking.

All three of them were out of uniform and dressed in their night clothes, it was late, after 1A’s typical dinner time, and his students tended to unwind and relax after dinner, they had gotten into the habit of finishing their homework early to have free time without worrying about work to get done. It wasn’t often he got students coming to his dorm about this time, unless one of them had accidentally broken a common room appliance somewhere and felt guilty about it. Or if one of his students had almost burnt the building down.

Midoriya appeared to have been crying; her cheeks were a rosy pink, and her eyes were still watery, her bottom lip was trembling. The poor girl was concerningly pale, her hair was tangled like she had repetitively run her fingers through it and tugged at it, and from the way she trembled, he was sure she wanted to run away.

Without waiting for a response, he opened his door wider, welcoming the kids inside. He had half custody of them all, they were his to care for, and he would never neglect that duty.

Shinso knew his way around from his time as Shota’s personal student, and Nemuri was technically his foster mother since he got to UA, so he hung around sometimes, so as Shota went to the kitchen to make drinks, he watched out of the corner of his eye as his student led the other two toward the couch. As he made tea for his clearly rattled students, he watched closely as Todoroki and Shinso sat on either side of Izuku, whispering to her, clearly trying to calm her down.

Something must have happened. Shota wondered if he had to sharpen his knives.

His phone vibrated and he checked it, finding a text from Nezu. ‘I see Mr Shinso, Mr Todoroki, and Ms Midoriya have come to your door at this peculiar time, Shota. Is there a problem?’ His boss was always watching; he was very much on some level insane by human standards, but despite his animal nature, he did care for the student's well-being.

‘I’ll let you know if there is, Sir.’ Shota texted back, pressing send and pocketing his phone, not waiting for a response. Instead, he turned to the jug that had finished boiling and poured it into the mugs, putting in the tea bags, setting a bowl of sugar cubes and a pitcher of milk on the tray. He could hear the kids whispering still.

Picking up the tray, he carried it to the living room and set it on the coffee table before sitting down across from them. “How can I help you three?” He questioned, keeping his voice low and steady, feeling this was a delicate situation.

Shinso looked to Todoroki, who was rubbing Midoriya’s back now and holding her hand, then down at Midoriya, who was starting to curl in on herself, before he turned to Shota, inhaling deeply, a serious, sad, and angry expression on his face, taking Midoriya’s other hand gently. “A couple of months ago, Izuku left campus to go home for the weekend, and she was-” He seemed to mentally debate his words, trying to decide the best way to explain. “Assaulted… Sexually.” Midoriya curled in on herself and Todoroki moved his hands to cover her ears while Hitoshi squeezed her hand to soothe her.

Shota’s blood ran so cold it burned.

“She was raped, Sir.” Todoroki clarified before moving his hands away from Midoriya’s ears, settling them on her shoulders instead. “Izuku didn’t report it, she was scared, and today… She took a pregnancy test, and it came back positive. She has made it clear to us that she would like to get an abortion if you could help with that.”

Ok, I’m going to have a heart attack. Holy shit.

While he processed that, the boys tried to get Midoriya to drink some tea, eventually managing to get her to wrap her scarred hands, crooked fingers around the mug, but she didn’t drink, just held it in her hands silently.

Leaning forward, Shota kept his eyes on Midoriya. “Midoriya, Kid, can I ask if you’ve told anyone? I know Todoroki said you didn’t report it, that’s ok, I understand why you didn’t. Does your mom know?”

Midoriya didn’t look at him, her teeth biting into her lower lip. Todoroki patted her on the head. “That’s… Another issue we came to talk to you about.” He said, and Shota’s heart sank.

“Yeah, um. So Izuku has essentially been abandoned by her mother. Her mom pays for Izuku to come to school here, and for her apartment, but Izuku hasn’t seen her since she was in middle school.” Shinso explained, and suddenly Shota hated himself for not investigating the woman when she was always so unavailable.

“I’m sorry,” He heard Midoriya say. It was the first time he had heard her speak in quite a while. Her voice was weak and miserable. “I’m be-being so inconvenient.”

Ok, my heart is breaking. I need to put a stop to that line of thought quickly, though.

“Midoriya, look at me,” He said gently, but firmly, leaning down to try and catch her eye. She looked up at him, but almost immediately looked away. “Midoriya,” He called again, and he got a couple more quick glances before she finally actually looked at him. “None of this is your fault. You being attacked? Not your fault. Being neglected? Not your doing. You are not an inconvenience, asking for help, wanting help, getting help, is not inconvenient.”

He finished talking, and Midoriya sobbed. Shota was momentarily horrified.

Shinso and Todoroki instantly gathered her into a hug as she covered her face with her hands and cried, their faces soft with concern. Todoroki had been quick to set her tea aside when she started crying. Shota shook himself of his horror and grabbed a box of tissues off his coffee table, coming to kneel in front of Midoriya. “Kid, breathe, you’re ok, it’s ok,” He murmured, gently prying her hands away from her face to dab away the tears with a tissue. “Breathe. I will book you a doctor's appointment, they’ll get you checked for any… Unwanted conditions, make sure you’re healthy, confirm that you’re actually pregnant, and if you are, I’ll organize for you to get an abortion if that’s still what you want. You just breathe and let me handle everything.” Handing her a tissue to blow her nose with, Shota reached up and patted her on the head. “It’s ok. I’ve got you now, Kiddo.”

“Sir, seeing as Izuku’s mother is… not around, does that mean you are her guardian fully?” Todoroki asked, still hugging Izuku, his usual stoic frown softened to what almost looked like a pout.

“Well, there’s some paperwork I’ll need to do first to get full custody, but essentially yes, so long as Midoriya’s ok with that. If not, then she can be a ward of UA, who, while under my care, like all of my students are, lives in the dorms. If I were to get full custody of Midoriya, she would also have a room here in my dorm for when holidays come and the dorms are void of other students.” Shota replied, still wiping away Midoriya’s tears. He softened his voice and tilted his head a bit to catch Midoriya’s gaze. “What would you like, Midoriya? To be in my custody, or a UA ward?”

Sniffling, still crying softly, Midoriya was quiet for a while, and Shota let her think through her decision. He wouldn’t judge her on whatever decision she made, he just wanted her to be comfortable. “I- mm.. Y-...” Words seemed to escape her, and Shota patiently waited. Eventually, Midoriya shyly pointed at him, sniffling.

“Alright, Kiddo,” Shota murmured, smiling gently at his student who would soon be his daughter. “I’ll get that paperwork sorted with Nezu. I’ll do my best as a parental figure to you. Now, you three, let’s get you back to the dorms, hm? I’ll walk you there so security doesn’t stop you.” Shota hated those damn security bots, they could be useful sometimes, but not when his students had a rough night and didn’t need pestered about being outside so late.

“Ok, Sir, thank you,” Shinso replied, standing up and gently pulling the other two to their feet. Shota listened as they murmured amongst each other as he went to his shoe rack to pull on his boots, Shinso quietly checking on how Todoroki was doing, Todoroki checking on how Shinso was doing, and both of them doting on their still crying friend.

This class 1A was his favorite of all. He adored how much they cared about each other, and how close everyone was. Midoriya, Shinso, and Todoroki specifically were probably in love with each other though.

Hm. If that’s true, I guess I’ll be shovel talking some boys one day.

“Come on, Kids, it’s getting late,” Shota called as he unlocked his door, pulling it open to usher the kids out. “Let’s get you back for some sleep, hm?”

Chapter Text

It took only a couple of days for Mr Aizawa to organize her doctor's appointment, for his detective friend to come to UA to get her statement, and for him to get her completely under his custody. According to him, they were having a bit of trouble locating her mom to arrest her.

Izuku felt guilty that she was getting arrested; it was all her fault, she just had to inconvenience all these people and now her mom would be even more upset with her.

Throughout the whole time she was taking her statement the previous day, Izuku could not stop crying; the questions had piled on her shoulders, weighing her down, making it hard to breathe until eventually she couldn’t breathe at all. Detective Tsukauchi was empathetic and tried to phrase his questions kindly, but it did nothing to quell her self-loathing and terror.

It wouldn’t be long before the media caught wind of her two-month secret, the information would catch the wrong ears, and it would become news for strangers to sink their teeth into like it’s fiction, not reality.

The physical exam, the rape kit, the blood test, everything, it all moved fast like lightning, yet slow like sloths, it was overstimulating, her skin burned with every poke and prod, her only mercy the disposable gloves that spared her from skin to skin contact. There was noise, chatter, notes being taken, questions being asked that she could barely force any answer out for, voices, tones, words so clinical, only cementing the fact that something violating, terrifying had happened to her, and no hero came to save her once again. She wanted to cry. It was so hard not to cry.

As she had quietly requested, Mr Aizawa stayed sitting by her, up by her head when she was lying down, at her side when she was sitting up, and he had handed her one of his caltrops to occupy her hands with as she waited for it all to be over. Though a nurse had made him take it back and put it away, ‘for safety’ she had said, her voice honeyed, though all Izuku could hear was the disgust hidden in her voice, as if she thought Izuku had asked for this. After that, Mr Aizawa had given her his goggles, which she fiddled with through the rest of her tests, and thoroughly found herself analyzing while they waited for blood results that were being expedited due to both her status as a minor and Mr Aizawa’s status as a pro hero.

Watching his kid-, his now daughter, be examined and tested, a look of carefully masked loathing and dread on her little freckled face, that had been nothing but miserable for months, Shota felt there was so little he could do. Nezu had informed him that Midoriya was his responsibility now, and to leave arresting her attacker and mother to the other heroes, (her statement having been taken through tears, sobs, and panic attacks), but Midoriya was his youngest student with the sweetest little heart, and he didn’t know how to make sure that heart was protected, felt safe and loved. 

Nezu suggested having Nemuri around a bit more to give her a good female role model, one who understands an unfortunate amount about what Midoriya had gone through. Shota was going to see how Nemuri felt about being a family figure in Midoriya’s life.

Shota would also definitely be getting Midoriya into therapy when she was ready. He still wasn’t sure what he could be doing for her, though. Shota had never taken a student into his full care, especially not a student who had been damaged in a way that would most likely haunt her for the rest of her life.

So he gave her his goggles to keep her hands busy, (because a lousy, rude nurse told him to put his caltrops away, despite how content Midoriya seemed to be tracing every flat face of it), and he stayed by her side, trying to offer silent comfort as the invasive exams and tests prolonged.

Knocking on Shoto's door, Hitoshi waited for it to be answered. Izuku was at the hospital, so it was the perfect time to check up on Shoto without somehow accidentally making her feel guilty because she had in some way made either of them uncomfortable or upset, which neither of them would ever blame her for, but Izuku had a rose petal soft heart, one that had been hurt in ways Hitoshi has yet to even see yet, hurt that he had heard that brought tears to his eyes to know, and she would instantly go back to suffering in silence.

Shoto opened his door and welcomed him inside, letting him enter his self-redecorated room that Hitoshi was always a small amount baffled by. “Hitoshi, are you alright? Is Izuku back already?” Shoto asked, sitting down on his futon and gesturing for Hitoshi to do the same. Following him down, Hitoshi looked up at him.

Bumping their elbows together, Hitoshi shook his head. “No, I actually came to check in on you.” Shoto tilted his head, a look of confusion crossing his face, so before he could voice his confusion, Hitoshi continued. “What Izuku has gone through, well, it’s a lot, we’re not equipped to help, trained to know how to deal with such an emotional, traumatic admission, not yet. So I wanted to see how you’re feeling.”

“Oh. That was nice of you,” Shoto carefully bumped their arms together in response to his initial bump, his expression becoming thoughtful. “I’m sad, sad that I couldn’t help, Izuku. I’m angry that whoever did that to her got away. I’m upset that Izuku always feels like she has to deal with her problems alone, because maybe… Maybe she would have come forward sooner about the issue. While I’m upset, I’m also glad that Izuku told us. That she didn’t try to figure out how to deal with possibly being pregnant all alone.” Shoto sighed, shaking his head. “I love that girl, but I wish she would stop shouldering everything on her own.”

Hitoshi nodded along, he was feeling about the same way about the situation. “That’s understandable, I feel similarly.”

Shoto nodded with a frown on his face. “When Izuku admitted to being assaulted, I couldn’t help but think of my mother.” Hitoshi had been informed of all that went on behind the walls of the Todoroki mansion, but he still didn’t expect for that connection to be made, though. “I know that sounds out of nowhere, but I think about the quirk marriage, and how my siblings and I came to be, and I’m just… Not sure how consensual the acts to bring us here were.”

Oh…

“Shoto, that’s…” Hitoshi sighed, unable to find the words. Instead he hugged his friend, rubbing his back. “I think we should get you into therapy alongside Izuku, because everything about your home life is just so heavy. It’s unfair to you.”

Slowly, Shoto hugged him back, his head resting on Hitoshi’s shoulder. “Yeah, maybe. You need therapy too, though, you were bullied a lot and are constantly distrustful of people because you think they will treat you like a villain because of your quirk.”

“Touche,” Hitoshi muttered.

Izuku could not breathe; she was sobbing too hard. The words were repeating in her head, her own thoughts mingling with them, winding around the words like vines to keep them in place. The confirmation of her suspicions was too much.

‘You’re pregnant,’ I’m fucking pregnant, ‘you’re pregnant,’ I’m really pregnant, ‘you’re pregnant,’ ‘Slutty Bitch, you like th-’

“-Iya? Izuku? Izuku, come on, Kiddo, can you hear me, Sweetheart? Breathe for me,” That is… Someone. “You hear me? I think you do, good job, Kiddo- no no, you keep breathing- don’t bite your knuckles, Sweetheart, no hurting yourself,” Who is that? I know him… “That’s it, big gasp of air, good girl, breathe,” Mr Aizawa… Obviously, who else would it be..? “You’re being so good, Kiddo, keep breathing,” Good… No, I’m never good enough… “Shh, no more tears, focus on your breathing, Izuku, you’re doing so well.” Something was touching her face, it wasn’t skin, she couldn’t focus her eyes on it, her eyes were determined to stay shut. “Just wiping away your tears, Sweetheart, keep breathing, that’s it, good girl! You’re doing very well. Don’t worry about keeping your eyes open right now, you don’t have to think about anything, you don’t have to do anything, all you have to do is try to breathe.”

When her chest didn’t feel so suffocatingly tight, and she could finally open her eyes, her breathing shaky, tears still dripping from her eyelashes, she found herself in the office she had been in all afternoon, void of the nurses and doctors, only Mr Aizawa in the room with her, crouched in front of her with a tissue in his hands. “... ‘M sorry,” She whimpered, and found herself encased in strong arms, against a solid chest. Izuku expected to feel the panic flare up, but her mind went almost numb with quiet instead.

Oh…

“You have not a single thing to feel sorry about, Kid,” Mr Aizawa murmured, Izuku felt his chin rest ontop of her head and one of his hands rest on the back of it, petting her hair gently, the soft touch a polarity to the yanking she had endured over the years from mean quirkists and her mother whilst drunk. “Not a single thing. I’m sorry for how tough life has been on you so far. I’m here now, and I’ve got you, Kid. You are most certainly allowed to fall apart. I can be your glue, Izuku, if that is what you need.”

Chapter Text

“Are you alright? Izuku?” Hitoshi had just walked into the common room. It was late after midnight, Izuku’s appointment at the doctor's had been earlier in the day, and they were informed of the sad news that Izuku was indeed unwillingly pregnant. Now, he finds her curled up on the couch, the lights off except for a lamp in the corner, her back to the wall, a heavy blanket draped across her lap, another curled around her shoulders. Izuku was staring ahead, silent, and as still as a portrait; she hadn’t even looked his way when he entered. “Izuku, can you hear me?”

Walking across the room, Hitoshi leaned down, looking at her closely. She seemed to be disconnected from the rest of reality, which generally probably wasn’t a good thing, but Izuku wasn’t visibly or audibly in distress like she had been so much as of late. Kind of like she was stuck in a daydream.

Hitoshi smiled gently at her, even if she was staring through him, and headed into the kitchen. He brewed himself a coffee and camomile tea for if Izuku came out of her daze. He flicked a quick text to Shoto, for if he were to be awake, that Izuku was out of it if he wanted to join them, leaving no further explanation.

Bringing their mugs into the common room, he set them on the closest coffee table and sat to Izuku’s right, once again giving her a gentle smile she was probably too out of it to see. He made himself comfortable, adjusted the blankets tucked around Izuku, and then, after a moment of consideration, Hitoshi guided Izuku slowly to lie down on the couch and rest her head in Hitoshi’s lap.

When he was done adjusting her limbs into more comfortable positions and her blankets to ensure her warmth, Hitoshi sipped his coffee and with his free hand ran his fingers through his friend’s curls.

He hated how one man could tear away any ounce of happiness Izuku had. He hated that he couldn’t protect her from such heartache, because he had watched the ache spread like decay, with sleepless nights, silent days, shaking hands, and attempts at self-isolation.

He had seen one man's effects on his friend, and he hated every effect. He hated the general anxiety that had tripled, hated the fear and disgust instilled inside his friend's body. He hated that all this time, he hadn’t even known he had failed to protect her. No matter how strong Izuku was, she should never have had to protect herself inside her own apartment, he couldn’t imagine how scared she had been.

That bastard, I hope his dick gets shot off.

Yawning as he woke to his first morning alarm, Shoto stretched out his arm and felt around for the off button to his alarm clock, squinting at the bright red numbers on the screen that every morning screamed at him 06:00 AM. Giving himself a couple of minutes more to wake up, Shoto grabbed his phone, turning it on, once more squinting his eyes at the sudden intrusion of light.

The first thing he noticed was that he had a text from Hitoshi. Clicking into it, he read the cryptic message, and the early morning time it was sent, worry sinking in, but quelled by the fact that Hitoshi was assumed to be with Izuku. His classmates would be waking up around this time, but if Hitoshi and Izuku weren’t in their rooms, their alarms may not be set, so Shoto sat up and got out from under the covers, pocketing his phone as he made his way out of his dorm and downstairs.

As Shoto reached the final step and finally made it to the main common space, his eyes glazed over the room until they settled on Hitoshi and Izuku. Hitoshi was awake, looking tired as though he hadn’t slept, a common occurrence with him, Shoto had come to learn, while Izuku was asleep with her head in his lap, and bundled up in blankets, yet her face looked no less exhausted.

The toll of the misery she had been enduring was heavy, Shoto could tell; his sweet friend always looked like she needed a bubble of silence and contentment, one that was never to be broken lest she be the one to break it.

Shoto walked over and sat himself on Hitoshi’s free side, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as casually as he could considering his lack of past physical affection, his free hand reaching down to brush back some of Izuku’s hair from her forehead. “You ok?” He murmured to Hitoshi, carefully not expressing any surprise when Hitoshi’s head came to rest on his shoulder.

“I’m alright, insomnia is kicking my ass again, same old, same old,” Hitoshi grumbled playfully. “Izuku, though, I’m not quite sure. I came in here to find her staring into space, but she didn’t seem distressed, if anything… she seemed more content than she has been in months.” Hitoshi ghosted his knuckles along Izuku’s cheek, and Shoto bit back a smile at the subtle tilt into the contact Izuku’s head did. Hitoshi seemed to have noticed the movement because he brought his hand back to repeat the motion. “She fell asleep some time, a couple of hours ago. I wish there was more I could do for her, Shoto, just being here for her doesn’t feel like enough.”

“I understand,” Shoto quietly shared, twirling strands of curly green hair between his fingers. “It’s a kind of helpless sort of feeling that leaves you feeling useless, but…” Shoto smiled down at Izuku, tilting his head to murmur into Hitoshi’s ear. “Look at how content she is within your range, under your gentle attentions. She’s not like this with our classmates, she never falls asleep in the company of others. Just you and me. That, to me, feels kind of special.”

Glancing Hitoshi’s way, Shoto watched him try and fail adorably to hide a smile that tugged at his lips. “I guess you’re right. Stop being intelligent, it’s banned as of now.” Shoto snorted shamelessly.

“Right, I’ll just empty out every drawer inside my head with any valuable information,” Shoto agreed jokingly, playfully ruffling Hitoshi’s always windswept-looking hair. Beneath their noses, Izuku began to stir, the slightest groan of protest to the waking world leaving her throat. “Oh- Good morning, ‘Zuku,” Shoto murmured softly, placing his right hand against her forehead for a comforting chill.

“Good morning, was that a good little cat nap, Sleepyhead?” Izuku just hummed in response to both of them, not even opening her eyes, though she leaned into the hand he put on her forehead. “Ohhh, Sleepy Girl, aren’t you?” Hitoshi teased, leaning down to bump his nose against Izuku’s. Hitoshi glanced his way and caught him watching. Shoto was surprised when his nose was bumped, too, and Hitoshi pulled away with a gentle nuzzle.

Shoto felt warmth within his chest, the blood in his body soaring and singing beneath the skin. He didn’t understand what it was, he just hoped he wasn’t sick and about to give his friends sick germs. He pulled a sheet of stickers out of his phone case and stuck little hearts to Hitoshi and Izuku’s clothes.

“Izuku, Sweetheart, do you remember last night?” Hitoshi asked when Izuku finally opened her eyes. “You were here, but in your head.”

She closed her eyes, a soft sigh escaping her nose, Izuku frowned and shifted to face Hitoshi’s stomach, curling up on her side while tugging the blankets tighter around her, which Shoto had seen her do plenty of times, she liked to feel the pressure of the fabric, to feel confined upon her terms. “Yesterday was too long and depressing of a day,” She mumbled. Shoto brushed his knuckles along the bridge of her nose to her eyebrows and back down, listening patiently. “I got in my head and spaced out.”

“Alright,” Shoto murmured back, keeping his voice soft, feeling Hitoshi’s nod of acceptance against his shoulder, he continued his ministrations. “You know you can come to us, or talk to us any time, right? You can come to me at 3 AM, the witching hour, and tell me you’re about to commit a murder, and I will literally go acquire the acid to dissolve the body with.”

Snorting at Shoto’s example, Hitoshi nodded. “I’m with him, I’ll bring the cleaning supplies.” Hitoshi playfully poked Izuku’s cheek. “You can always come to us. We’re all fucked up in the head for different reasons, though a lot of those reasons are the abuse we dealt with growing up, and us fucked up people stick together. Especially us. So come to us, Baby, we will be here for you.”

Izuku didn’t respond for a moment, but then she sniffled and both he and Hitoshi immediately gathered her up between them and held her close. Shoto tucked her head under his chin, his arm around Hitoshi’s shoulder, tugging him closer as he rubbed Izuku’s back. Hitoshi pressed kisses to the side of Izuku’s head, one hand carding through the curls that fell over the girl's shoulder, and the other, to Shoto’s surprise and fluster, resting on Shoto’s thigh, a gentle but firm grip on it.

This felt right in Shoto’s opinion. Since the sports festival, when Izuku and Hitoshi beat each other up, and when Izuku beat herself up to get through to Shoto, the three of them had been… Them. It was them ever since. Izuku, the sweetest girl to ever exist, in Shoto’s opinion, had introduced Shoto to Hitoshi, the most beautifully sarcastic boy he had ever met. The three of them had hung out once, and then, it happened again.

Again.

Again.

It hasn’t stopped happening, and Shoto believed that this was the way it was meant to be. Heartbreaking admissions, comfort in the form of tight hugs and silent companionship, unconditional love that none of them had ever really had, and everything else that made them, them .

Ignoring the murmuring of her other classmates entering the common room, Izuku snuggled into her friends, who held her tighter at the movement. She had stopped crying a few minutes ago, though she still felt sniffly and gross.

Izuku felt a bit fuzzy, and her thoughts kept bouncing from one thing to the next, sending her drifting, but not quite too deep into her head like the previous night, and not so dark with the warmth of the arms around her.

She couldn’t help but blush at every ghost kisses pressed to the side of her head by Hitoshi, and the safe feeling she got from being tucked right under Shoto’s chin.

She loved her boys; they were her first real, true friends. It was hard to believe that they still liked her despite how disgusting and used she was; she was dirty, and Izuku didn’t understand how they were still willing to touch her so gently.

Izuku also couldn’t deny that she was so incredibly grateful that they hadn’t shoved her away in disgust. A part of her wanted to force them away and isolate herself to keep them away from her disgraceful body, but a bigger part of her melted into their affections, touch-starved beyond her years.

“Izuku, everyone’s getting up and ready for school, what do you want to do?” Shoto murmured, tilting his face down into her hair as he spoke. Izuku felt the vibrations of his speech against her head. She could feel his hand on her back, it was his right one, cold, beautifully cool through the fabric around her.

Shoto has a lovely voice, so handsome and deep… So does Hitoshi, his quirk is laced into his voice always, even when inactive, and it makes each sound so smooth, or perfectly rumbly, it’s so relaxing to listen to. I could probably listen to them speak nonstop, like a podcast…

“Sweetheart?” I like it when he calls me cute names… makes me feel special, instead of worthless and dirty… “Ok, Baby, I’m sure Aizawa’s given you the day off for the stress of yesterday, so how about we get you up to bed? You can rest more there, does that sound good, pretty girl?” Hitoshi coaxed gently, close to her ear, his breath brushing her skin.

“I can ask him if we can stay with you today, and I’ll even make you some hot chocolate.” Mm, Shoto makes good hot chocolate, he always puts whipped cream in it, and sprinkles, and marshmallows.. he toasts slightly with his quirk… yummy… “What room do you want to be in, Izuku? Yours, mine, or Hitoshi’s? It’s completely up to you.” Shoto asked her, his hand that was on her back coming to rest in her hair like Hitoshi’s.

It took a second for her to get her thoughts together, but she eventually found an answer for him. “H’toshi’s room… He has stuffies and a big bed… enough room for all of us…” Izuku mumbled into one of their shoulders. She was pretty sure it was Shoto’s shoulder, but she didn’t care enough to check. She was warm and cozy.

“Alright then, Beautiful, let’s get you upstairs hm?” All of a sudden, there was a lot of movement, and she was pretty sure she might have whined in protest. “Shh, shh, it’s ok, Baby. I know, you’re a little out of it, but we have you. You’re safe with us.” Hitoshi crooned, and she felt hands around her waist lifting her up, blinking slowly, finding herself a bit unsure about hands being on her waist, she wrapped her legs over Hitoshi’s hips and arms around his shoulders. “You ok? Comfortable?”His arms settled respectfully under her, keeping her up. Shoto’s hand was on her back, his other hand grasping Hitoshi’s shoulder. His hands were steady and strong; both of them had such strong and steady hands. Izuku’s hands were damaged and shook nearly constantly, at a dull quake on average, but it could get so much worse for varying reasons.

“I’m ok…” Izuku murmured, her gaze drifting up to Hitoshi’s face. “I dunno if I like my waist grabbed…” She admitted, watching Hitoshi nod understandingly.

“Of course, Honey, I’m sorry, I will try and avoid touching your waist until you say otherwise,” Hitoshi replied, bumping his nose against hers.

“I’m going to go and get started on hot chocolate and call Aizawa,” Shoto told them. Izuku tilted her face into his left hand when he brought it up to brush hair out of her face. “Do you want some too, Hitoshi?”

“Sure, Babe,” Hitoshi replied, adjusting Izuku in his grasp, she felt herself be bumped up, she must have slid down a bit. “We will wait for you in my room.”

Chapter Text

Tsukauchi told Shota that they had found DNA evidence of Izuku’s attacker in her, apparently barren, apartment, as well as evidence of the break-in like Izuku had described. According to him, there were marks and dents in the walls from the fight Izuku had put up against her attacker. Shota was so proud of his girl for trying just like he had taught in self-defence classes. Then, as Izuku had said during her statement, there was a hole in the wall outside of her bedroom, which was apparently just a room with a bed and a thin blanket on top of it, if Tsukauchi was to be believed, which he was, left by the man who attacked her.

Izuku had said during her statement, that she had tried to fight him off her whole way down the hall, her attacker had slammed her into the wall near her bedroom and punched a hole right beside her head through the plaster, before he had grabbed, pulled, and shoved her into the bedroom, down onto the bed, and done his cruel acts to her despite her fight.

Tsukauchi’s team had gotten multiple DNA samples from her attacker, some of Izuku’s from all over that room. Upon searching the entire apartment, they had recorded evidence of the attacker's presence, Izuku’s, and apparently Inko Midoriya’s presence could barely be detected at all.

Tsukauchi and the hospital had matched the DNA from what little they could get from the rape kit and DNA of the fetus that they had gotten after Izuku’s meltdown over the confirmation of her pregnancy, and the DNA from the apartment to a man named Moc Dai, a sleezy looking man, half japanese and half welsh, who has a weakening quirk, which made sense with how much of a powerhouse Izuku could be, aswell as a physical mutation, most likely given to him by a family member, a too long tongue that was typical of those with blood related quirks. This villain's quirk was activated through touch, though, not blood, which was why his tongue was a mutation.

He wasn’t a first-time offender of the law, Dai had been arrested before for sexual harassment and physical assault. He had never done time for it, though, just a night in the precinct.

Since the bastard had used his quirk on Izuku, he would get illegal quirk use charges thrown onto his sentence, and the title of villain, instead of criminal. In Shota’s eyes, a rapist was a villain no matter the use of a quirk.

Shota was going to either have this guy in prison for as long as possible, or a grave nobody would ever find.

Izuku was sitting in her room with Shoto’s head in her lap. She ran her fingers through the mix colored strands of hair, staring up at the ceiling. Shoto wasn’t having a good day. He said he had woken up to an upset call from Natsuo, who had called to tell him that their mother’s medications were being adjusted, because of a setback in her recovery, for the first time in years, she had a massive breakdown over the flowers her husband routinely sent every month. Shoto said that they were her favorite flowers and that she loved receiving them, so to hear that she had such an adverse reaction to them this time was upsetting.

Shoto had come to her room for comfort after they had finished the school day, so Izuku ran his fingers through his hair and let him process, slowing her petting to be more firm and soothing whenever Shoto trembled or sounded like he was about to cry. She kept her gaze up and away from him whenever her eyes were open, to give him a sense of privacy.

There was a knock on the door; it was Hitoshi’s knocking pattern, with three clacking knocks, one firm knock, and a final softer one, followed by the door opening. If the door was unlocked, Hitoshi and Shoto knew they were welcome to enter without asking. Hitoshi, carrying books in his arms, likely coming to study quietly in her presence, Hitoshi glanced over at them. He paused, taking in the sight of them and setting his things on Izuku’s desk. Hitoshi came over and sat on the bed, one hand reaching down to settle over the center of Shoto’s chest, his other hand squeezing Izuku’s bicep. “Hey…” Hitoshi breathed, a look of concern crossing his face as he looked between them, leaning down to see Shoto’s face. “Can I do anything to help you feel any better, Snowflake?”

Sniffling, Shoto shook his head. “I’ll be fine, I just need to be upset for a moment. My mom had an episode and is getting her medications adjusted.”

“I see, I’m sorry about that, Babe, I’m sure that’s pretty scary to hear about, especially after how well she’s been doing,” Hitoshi murmured, leaning down to kiss Shoto’s forehead. “Tell me if you need anything, Shoto.”

“Thank you, Hitoshi,” Shoto replied, and Izuku felt and watched as he tilted his face back against her legs, settling in for the comfort of gentle pets of fingers through his hair.

“Now you,” Hands cupped her face. “How are you feeling? More morning sickness today? No pain or discomfort? Bleeding? Talk to me, Baby.” Hitoshi asked, he often asked, because despite her nauseating body, he cared about her wellbeing, like nothing happened, and her body wasn’t infected by gross.

“I’m ok, morning sickness, no pain,” No more than the usual full body ache, and the thrum in my bones from where I broke them. “A bit of discomfort, no bleeding.” She rattled off, still petting Shoto’s hair. “Mr Aizawa has scheduled the abortion for this weekend. He found a clinic that won’t need the owner of the sperm to sign off on ridding the fetus from my body.”

“That’s good to hear, Izuku,” Hitoshi sighed, smiling softly at her in what she recognized as relief as he moved over to her side against the headboard. “It’s a good thing when the good pro heroes have connections, huh?”

Nodding, Izuku contemplated for a moment before resting her head on his shoulder, feeling his nose nuzzle against the side of her head in response. “Is Aizawa going to be with you the whole time?” Shoto asked softly from his place lying on the bed, his words vibrating against the fabric of her pants.

“I dunno…” Izuku murmured, she wasn’t sure if she wanted Mr Aizawa in the room while she sobbed over someone, anyone, another doctor, being near the used part of her to vacuum the product of her body being used, out of her womb.

“That’s ok,” Shoto whispered, as though he sensed her unease and uncertainty. “You don’t have to know just yet.”

“Shoto is absolutely right, Izuku,” Hitoshi agreed, his lips brushing her head just firm enough that she could feel it. “You don’t have to decide anything right away.”

Her pain was somewhat, but not truly paused, while she focused on comforting Shoto, but when he left her room with Hitoshi, leaving her alone, all her grief crashed into her like a tidal wave.

The creature inside her, growing, and living inside of her womb, feeding off of her, a parasite, unwanted, and taking without asking, it weighed heavily on her every time she thought about it, or agonized over the stiff feeling of her stomach, that now had the slightest, miniscule curve.

She wanted it gone so much she could scream to the void for days in agony, but her scream was silent, and kept inside, because to let everyone hear her scream was to give up her long ago crafted facade that everything was ok, that she lived in this bubble where nothing truly effected her, that every possibly traumatic thing that happens in her life just rolls off her back as though it were water to water rappelling feathers. No one usually noticed when something truly affected her, nor if, because of that, she got even quieter than usual. No one said a word, because no one cared; they were living their own lives, not noticing the world cave in around her.

Taking a deep and shaking breath, Izuku grabbed her pillow, pushed her face into it, and tried to scream, but all that came out was a squeak that was whiney and pathetic.

Oh, how she hates herself.

She wanted to hit herself in the stomach with her quirk until she bled as proof of a miscarriage, to get the monster out faster, but she had an appointment to get the parasite out professionally, and really, if she gives anyone more reason to be worried about her health, then she might never stop crying, because all the people she cares about will think she’s weak and fragile. No one will ever believe her facade again.

She tried once again to scream into the old and worn fabric, only to fail again, letting out a shrieking cry but not a scream, just that sound too quiet, too weak, too pathetic, just like the rest of her.

Izuku felt like she was in middle school again, weak and small, insignificant. She also felt like she was somewhere else entirely, stronger, someone cared about, though that was harder to believe because she was used to the way middle school felt. To be cared for was foreign. Who cares for someone who has never in her life meant anything to anyone?

Hitoshi and Shoto, apparently.

Chapter Text

Izuku couldn’t help but grab onto her teacher, now guardian, as they entered the clinic, her ability to breathe thinning. Mr Aizawa stopped walking for a moment before pulling her aside, crouching in front of her, and grabbing her arms. “It’s alright, I’m here, just one step at a time, Kiddo. You’re doing so well, Izuku. What do you need right now, hm?” His voice was low and soothing, it had always been a voice much better than her former teachers, who sounded like they wore nose plugs, while chewing gravel, and smoking cigarettes. Mr Aizawa sounded nice, sometimes like a motor bike when he grumbled, or a cat. “Izuku?”

Oops. I didn’t respond.

“I… Um… Will- Will you stay with me?” Izuku weakly requested. She hadn’t been sure what she wanted, but for the moment at least, she trusted Mr Aizawa to make sure the doctors and nurses weren’t going to touch her inappropriately while she was under general anesthesia. To make sure that she wasn’t further violated, that the doctors would only do their jobs, and nothing else.

Instantly, Mr Aizawa nodded, carefully pulling her into a hug that she couldn’t help but tremble and lean into. “Of course, Izuku, I can do that, I’ll stay right by your head until you wake up.” Mr Aizawa murmured, a hand resting on the back of her head. “You’re my daughter, and my student, and my job will always be to protect and comfort you, in whatever way you need me to.”

“O-Ok…” She stuttered, grasping at his shirt anxiously. That hadn’t been the case for any of her former parents or teachers, but maybe, just maybe, there was a first time for everything.

“Ok,” He echoed, holding her until she finally pulled away, one hand still clenched in his shirt.

They started walking again, slowly, not too fast, entering the clinic that would finally rid her of the parasite within.

Shota pet Izuku’s hair as she went under anesthesia, holding her hand as he voice trailed off and her eyes fluttered closed.

Ached his beating heart did at just the thought that an abortion was something his kid had to go through, ached more at the story leading to it.

He was so glad that Izuku trusted him enough to ask him to protect her while in such a vulnerable state, and he was determined to take that job seriously. He would keep a close eye on the doctors and the nurses, he would keep comforting his unconscious child, and he would be there for her when she awoke. Shota would take her home when given the go ahead, give her anything she wanted or needed to soothe her.

Shota knew Hitoshi and Shoto were putting together a gift basket for Izuku; he had given them permission to leave campus the previous day. Those boys were head over heels for his new, little, grown-up girl.

“-oh, hello, good afternoon, Kiddo, you awake? Oh-” A hand gently tilted her head when she dropped it to the side in her half-asleep, bleary state. “Hi, Lovely Girl, you’re ok… It’s ok…” Mr Aizawa, it was Mr Aizawa talking.

“I’m…” Izuku didn’t really have anything to say; she trailed off, squinting with a frown.

“Mm, you’re ok,” Fingers were brushing through her hair, it felt nice. “The procedure went well, Izuku, you’re not pregnant anymore.”

…

Izuku processed the words said to her and gasped, letting out a sharp, relieved cry, tilting her face into the hands that cupped her cheeks as she started to sob.

“I know, feel your feelings, Baby, it’s ok,” Mr Aizawa murmured, barely audible over the sound of Izuku’s relief, and the several other complicated feelings mixed in. “You’ve been hiding it all from everyone so well, so just feel, Izuku, it’s ok. When you’re ready, we will search for someone together that you’re comfortable expressing all these feelings with. For now, though, as your guardian, father figure, you can cry to me.”

“Mr Aizawa, it’s gone,” She cried, grasping at his arms, breathing out heavily, a wobbly smile pulling at her face. “It’s gone, it’s gone, it’s gone.”

“It is, Izuku, it’s all gone, you’re safe,” Mr Aizawa whispered back, one hand moving up to pet her hair. “It’s not there anymore.”

“It’s gone, it’s not in me,” She laughed joyously through tears. Aizawa moved onto the edge of the bed and pulled her into his side, she snuggled into him, grasping at his clothes, crying and laughing still. “It’s gone! It’s not there, it’s not in me, it’s- it’s gone-”

“Yes, it is gone, Baby,” Mr Aizawa confirmed, rubbing her back. “Remember to breathe, Izuku.” He reminded, but he didn’t stop her from feeling her feelings, which she appreciated immensely.

Gasping in a deep breath, a wheezing laugh escaping her, she pressed closer into him, clinging as she never had before to an adult who supposedly cared about her, without a care in the world, because she was free of the parasite, the monster, the creation, it was gone, she was free, her body was her own, she was the only one living inside it, growing off of the air, water and food she consumed, she was free of a child unwanted, it was just her body, her still disgusting, gross, violated body, but her body still, and now not infected with a baby she didn’t ask for, that she fought not to have.

Mr Aizawa continued to rub her back and pet her hair, gently rocking her back and forth, whispering confirmations and soft requests to breathe. It was so nice, teachers had never been nice like this before, nor had parental figures, and Mr Aizawa was her teacher, and her father now. Would he always be this nice to her? She hoped so, because it felt so good to be treated like something… other than her worthlessness.

Fucking hell, thank God it’s gone.

Chapter Text

The police had finally tracked the bastard down, and Shota was on the mission to raid his place for any trophies and evidence of other victims. He was going to have the opportunity to slam the cowardly child toucher into the ground, because there was no way he wasn’t getting a couple attacks in, or knocking a couple of teeth out for what he had done to his child, who he already loved as his daughter.

Shota looked forward to telling Izuku that the prick couldn’t possibly get to her anymore, because he would be locked up, far away from her.

Inko Midoriya was already in custody for the evident child neglect and abandonment, arrested at her workplace, where she had apparently not actually been so busy as she appeared to be, having been passing off her work to one of the other nurses under the noses of everyone. He was yet to ask if Izuku wanted to go to the women's prison to talk to her. Izuku had not brought the woman up during their time together.

Inko Midoriya honestly did not deserve the privilege.

Practicing her kicking techniques in the gym, both quirkless and with her quirk, Izuku kept her senses sharp, not wanting to be snuck up on again. Never again, no matter the reason. She listened for doors, for whispers, the sound of footsteps, all sounds she thought could lead to her getting hurt again. She wasn’t willing to be the victim in such a cruel way again.

So that was how she knew when Shoto and Hitoshi entered the gym. She could hear them talking quietly amongst themselves. Izuku listened as they entered, shoulders relaxing because she trusted they weren’t going to attack her like that, and she continued to work on her kicks.

“How’s our favourite girl doing today?” Hitoshi called from a distance, probably so as to not get caught in one of her attacks. “Haven’t seen you since dinner.”

“I’m-” She stopped speaking for a moment as she slammed the side of her foot into the 34th training dummy she was using. The other 33 dummies had met their end until repairs were to be done. “Fine.”

“That was a very aggressive kick,” Shoto observed aloud from Hitoshi’s side, holding a sheet of stickers. “Lie, or sarcasm?... Was that a rude question? Sorry.”

Sighing to herself, straightening her training dummy that had been knocked askew, she mumbled. “Sorry,” They had told her that she could talk to them about anything, yet she still lied to them. Guilt stung at her cheeks, the burn of embarrassment spreading from the sting. “Just… Twitchy.” Paranoid. I’m paranoid.

“That’s ok,” Hitoshi replied, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. His training was really becoming evident now, in the strength she could feel in his arms, and the stiffness of his chest against her back. She’s proud of him. He walked with a lot more confidence than he did before. “Thanks, Gorgeous Girl.” Hitoshi purred into her hair, and her cheeks burned, warm with the pooling blood.

“Shit- Fuck, ” Izuku embarrassedly cursed. She hadn’t meant to say any of that. What a way to find out her muttering habit was back; she hadn’t done it in years. “Sorry.” People hated it when she muttered.

“For what, Izuku?” Hitoshi murmured gently, his arms gently tightening around her waist. “You’re making me feel good. You know, boosting my ego.”

“Yes, that seemed to be a compliment of Hitoshi’s bettering fitness and physique. I don’t see that as anything to be sorry for, in fact, I too believe that Hitoshi has been doing well with his training, and the results are coming along well.” Shoto added, Izuku watched as one of Hitoshi’s hands left her and reached out toward Shoto. Fingers curling around the back of his neck gently and guiding him closer.

“Thanks, Babe.” Hitoshi’s chin rested on her head. “See? Nothing to be sorry about, Sweetheart.”

“I-...” She trailed off, not sure whether or not to admit the truth, before realizing she had mentally decided to attempt to be more open with them. “Um. People d-don’t like it when I mutter.”

Izuku blinked as Shoto stuck a sticker to her cheek. Reaching up, she traced the shape. Another heart, love and understanding . Shoto put another sticker on her forehead and once again she reached up to trace the shape. A star, It’s ok, and No Judgement.

“You beautiful soul, we love when you speak, don’t you know?” Hitoshi told her in a breath, voice soft and husky. “We were so worried when you would barely speak, and missed your pretty little voice so much, Baby. I don’t care if you say one word or 3000, I could sit and listen to you for hours.”

“I, too, could sit and listen to you speak for hours if you let me.” Shoto agreed, putting a sticker on Hitoshi’s arm. Another heart.

Blushing, Izuku slowly nodded. “Oh… Ok…”

Shoto looked up to Hitoshi above Izuku’s head, hopeful. Was this the time?

He and Hitoshi had had a few discussions over the month since Izuku’s abortion, and they had made some confessions.

“Oh, hey, Shoto, come in,” Hitoshi welcomed his friend into his room and closed the door behind him. “What brings you here?”

“Hello, I’m sorry if I’m interrupting anything,” Shoto replied softly, taking a seat on the edge of the bed when Hitoshi offered.

“No, no, you’re fine, Snowflake,” Hitoshi told him, sitting beside him, gently bumping their shoulders. “What’s up, Babe?”

“Um. I have something… Something I want to ask you, well, and Izuku, but I want to give Izuku more time to… process her stuff. She’s had a lot going on.” Shoto murmured, playing with a sticker sheet between his hands.

“Alright, talk to me, Pretty Boy, I’m here to listen,” Hitoshi hummed, taking one of Shoto’s hands and squeezing it.

“I… Well, I wanted to ask if there was any way you were interested in me romantically.” Shoto admitted shyly. “I am romantically interested in both you and Izuku, and I would like to date both of you in a, as I read it, polyamorous relationship, should you be interested, it is ok if you are not.”

Hitoshi smiled at him. “I like you too, and Izuku. I am interested, but I’d like to start our relationship together with Izuku if she is interested too, if that’s ok.”

“I would like that too. Thank you. I look forward to being boyfriends.” Shoto said, a little smile on his face, and Hitoshi couldn’t help but laugh, pulling him into a hug, hearing the peeling of stickers and fingers pressing them to his clothes.

They had decided that together they would ask Izuku out on a date, and set everything to her pace, because they knew she would probably appreciate being able to take things slow.

Hitoshi looked back at Shoto and he knew by the allowing smile on his face that he thought it was a good time too.

While Izuku was comfortable, though a little flustered, and trying to be honest with them.

Hitoshi spun Izuku around to face him, and Shoto made his way over to his side, almost vibrating with anticipation and nervousness.

“We have something to ask you,” Shoto blurted softly, patting Hitoshi’s arm in silent request for him to be the one to ask. Izuku looked between them in confusion, thankfully not looking nervous or worried, just cute and bashful from her previous minor fluster.

“Izuku, Shoto, and I would like to ask you out on a date with the intention of being your boyfriends,” Hitoshi gently explained, Izuku’s eyes widening in surprise. “We both really like you, and really like each other, we would like to be in a relationship with you, together, and it’s ok if you don’t feel the same way, we will always be your friends, no matter your choice.” Shoto could hear how Hitoshi was trying to reassure Izuku that there was no pressure to be anything more than friends.

Shoto nodded nervously. “Also, if you decide you want to be with us, everything can go at your pace, ok? You don’t have to be scared of anything with us, if you want things to slow down or speed up, all you have to do is say, and you tell us if or when you want the title of our girlfriend. Anyway, we would like to ask you on a date, what do you think of that?”

Blinking up at them with wide malachite eyes, Izuku’s hand came to fidget with her arm brace. “You… You both like me- How? How do… How? How do you like me? I don’t- Hh- I’m disgusting, I- It’s weird that you even still wanna be my friends, how- why would you like me- I’m used, and gross, disgusting -”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Shoto murmured, grasping Izuku’s shoulders and guiding her to sit on the floor, taking one of her hands as Hitoshi took the other, both of them joining her on the ground. Reaching out, Shoto took Hitoshi’s free hand. “Breathe. Of course, we still want to be your friends, and there is no reason we wouldn’t want to be your friends, ok?”

“Oh, Honey, you think because you were… That you’re disgusting?” Hitoshi brought Izuku’s hand to his mouth, kissing the knuckles. “Baby, you are anything but. You are strong, intelligent, and worthy of being loved. You’re not disgusting, gross, and you’re not used; you were hurt. You are our beautiful, kindhearted best friend, who we love and want in any way you’ll have us.”

“You mean so much to me, Izuku. My hero from myself. You’re the reason I let myself… Stop seeing a part of myself as a monster, like I saw my father. The reason I met Hitoshi. The reason I smiled for the first time in years.” Shoto squeezed Izuku’s hand, feeling Hitoshi tighten the grip he had on his other hand. “So please don’t talk badly about my hero, Izuku. We love her too much for that.”

Izuku looked between them for a moment, eyes glossy with tears she tried to blink away, before she glanced away, looked back at them and nodded. “Ok. I like you both too. I want to try a date with you both.” She quietly admitted, sniffling.

That was all Shoto needed to drag her into a big, strong hug and pull Hitoshi into it too, satisfied with the opportunity, the weight of his maybe-to-be-lovers in his arms, and the sound of their soft whispers of laughter.

Chapter Text

“You son of a bitch!” Shota hissed as he slammed his heel into the side of his daughters rapists head, sending the pathetic excuse for a man crumbling to the floor in his own cheap, dirty apartment. “You’re under arrest for breaking and entering, stalking, illegal quirk use, illegal quirk use against a minor, sexual assault and rape of a minor, Bastard, you have the right to remain silent,” He forced out through grit teeth as the prick struggled against him while he yanked his arms behind his back, resisting the urge to use unnecessary force to pop his shoulders out of his sockets. “And I suggest you do.”

The bastard continued to fight as though he had the right to remain free. Police and a couple of sidekick heroes were busy examining the scene, searching for any evidence of his crimes, which was apparently easy because he kept hearing officers call out that they found something. The villain appeared to be an absolute moron as well as repulsive.

“You think I touched some brat? With what proof?” The slime sneered while struggling, glaring back at Shota as though he were the atrocious one. “I ain’t touched no one that wasn’t askin’ for it, get off me!”

A couple of officers took the man from Shota, grip tight on his arms, their faces professional but eyes angry with how much of a scumbag the bastard was.

“I didn’t do nothin’! You got nothin’ on me! I ain’t been stalkin’ any little ladies! Let go! I’m innocent! I touched no little girls, I’m not some pervert!” He fought as he was pulled away, while Shota just quietly contemplated getting his hero license suspended by attacking an already apprehended culprit.

Izuku was curled up on Mr Aizawa’s couch. It was after dinner, she had done her homework, some analysis, and was finally just thinking about Hitoshi and Shoto’s question from a couple of days ago. A date, she had a date! How could they ever be interested in her in such a way? They were both gorgeous, intelligent, and kind, so what did a gross, unappealing girl like her do to deserve their affections? She didn’t know; surely she had mistakenly manipulated them somehow, into thinking she was deserving of anything.

Still, she was too selfish to tell them they shouldn’t want her, because she wanted them too. She wanted their affections, their comfort, their company.

They said she wasn’t used, wasn’t gross, or disgusting. She didn’t know if that was completely true in their eyes; she thought it was pretty obvious she was revolting, her body no longer pure. Her therapist kept trying to get her not to think so negatively , but all the words and suggestions from the woman were useless to the way her brain worked. She had always been realistic and pessimistic, a negative thinker since kindergarten.

Izuku heard the jingle of keys and peered over the edge of the couch, tense despite knowing the only other person with a key was Mr Aizawa. She clutched her analysis notebook to her chest, continuing to peer over the top of the couch as the door swung open.

Mr Aizawa closed the door and strolled on inside, kicking off his shoes and stretching his arms over his head, a bag over his shoulder. He started coming over to the living room and paused upon spotting Izuku. She ducked her head back down out of sight; she didn’t know why.

After a moment, Mr Aizawa leaned over the back of the couch and smiled at her. “Hey, Izuku, I didn’t know you were here. I’m glad to see you’re using your key,” Izuku stared up at him. She didn’t know how to respond. She felt clueless today. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah,” She murmured, trailing off as she had nothing else to add, covering her mouth with her notebook.

“That’s good, Kiddo.” Mr Aizawa walked around the couch and crouched beside Izuku. She turned onto her side to face him. He grabbed one of her hands and squeezed. “I have some good news for you.”

She tilted her head, staring up at him, her hair falling into her eyes.

“Today, I arrested the man who attacked you,” He told her. She felt her breath hitch. “With the evidence from your case, and the evidence we found in his apartment, Sweetheart, he’s going away for a long, long time.”

Izuku held her breath, processing the words, heart thudding in her chest, the rhythm of Mr Aizawa’s thumb swiping over her knuckles grounding as flashes of being slammed down onto her bed and groped in places she never dreamed of being touched sped through her mind, the phantom grip of hands on her body making her skin crawl, and her stomach ached with the memory of something hard she wished to forget slamming inside of her relentlessly. She released the breath, realizing she was beginning to shake.

Mr Aizawa said the man had gone away? The man was arrested? It couldn’t happen again? He wouldn’t do it to her or anyone else again?

“You’re not lying? Promise?” Izuku breathed desperately, now gripping at his hand as she breathed in shakily.

“I promise, My Dear,” Mr Aizawa murmured back, squeezing her hand tight, trying to reassure her. “You’re shaking, Honey, do you need me to ground you?”

Shaking her head, Izuku took another deep breath. “He’s gone? He’s not- He’s not coming back?” She whispered, clutching at her pant leg with her free hand, unable to stop herself from tearing up.

God, I’m so pathetic! Why can’t I stop myself from crying lately when I get emotional?! God, I’m disgusting, pitiful. Maybe that’s why I’ve been hugged more than ever since I was three lately.

Mr Aizawa squeezed her hand and, with his other hand, reached up to brush her hair back and out of her face.“Yes, My Darling Girl, he’s gone away, arrested and to be sent away for a long, long time, I promise.” He smiled softly. “I kicked him in the head for you.” That shocked a choked laugh out of her, and a tear slipped down her cheek. “There’s a nice sound. Izuku, you do not have to worry about that man hurting you or anyone else. He’s going to jail, and to be honest with you, people like him don’t do well in prison, because even criminals and villains have moral codes not to be crossed.” 

Izuku nodded softly, letting Mr Aizawa wipe away her tears.

They both stayed quiet for a while, and Mr Aizawa moved to sit beside her, pulling her into his side in a side hug that was just the right amount of contact. “Hey, Izuku, what are you doing here? Not that I don’t want you in the apartment, it’s just you haven’t come to stay here before.”

“I…” She didn’t really know what to say. “Um… I wanted away- away from my classmates. It was loud an’ I wanted to think.”

“Yeah? What were you thinking about, Kiddo?” Mr Aizawa asked casually, rubbing Izuku’s arm with his thumb, tucking her head beneath his chin.

Izuku wasn’t sure whether or not she wanted to share what she was thinking for a moment, but after a while, she slowly nodded to herself and murmured. “I have a date, Mr Aizawa.”

“You do?” Mr Aizawa hummed, his hand moving from her arm to her hair, running through the strands. “Who with? How do you feel about it, Izuku? You can talk it out with me if you want.”

“Shoto and Hitoshi asked me out,” She said, quietly playing with a stray thread on her sleeve. “They said they wanted to take me on a date, that they were both interested in me and each other.”

“Yeah? Are you interested in them too?” Mr Aizawa murmured, still running the blunt edges of his nails along her scalp.

“... I am… But I’m scared,” Izuku softly admitted, idly leaning into his hand. “I don’t understand why they like me. It’s… It’s weird enough they still-still want to be my friends, I’m- they know I’m…”

“They know you’re what, Sweetheart?” Mr Aizawa asked, gently pulling her closer. His voice was rumbly and soothing to her ears.

“That I’m damaged,” She finally blurted. “That I’m- I’m used, and revolting-”

“Hey- no,” Izuku was pulled into a proper hug, one of Mr Aizawa’s hands began to rub her back, the other continuing to tangle in her hair. “You’re not. You’re not at all, Darling Girl. If you were truly revolting, you wouldn’t be anything like you are. Revolting is what the people who hurt innocent people like you are.” Mr Aizawa told her. “In a way, yes, you were used, something was taken from you, something was forced on you, but that in no way means you are any less worthy of being cherished and adored. You are still you’re intelligent, analytical, determined, kind, and resilient self, and no one should ever be able to take that away.”

Izuku stayed silent for a moment, quietly pressing closer into the hug and feeling Mr Aizawa’s arms around her tighten slightly, which sent a small wave of relief and comfort through her. “... Promise?”

“Promise, Kiddo,” Aizawa replied, resting his chin on top of her head. “You are worthy of every comfort and every love. You always have been, and I wish you had gotten so much of it sooner.”

“Mm…” She closed her eyes, head rested against his chest, ear over where his heart was, listening to the gentle thud of his heart, beating warmth in his chest to spread throughout his body. It was soothing. “... Is this what having a Dad is like, Mr Aizawa?”

Chuckling, Mr Aizawa squeezed her. “If that’s what you want it to be like, Izuku. You don’t have to call me Mr Aizawa, you know, just whatever is most comfortable.”

“Mm, ‘Kay, Mr… Ok, ‘Zawa,” She mumbled back, feeling Aizawa begin to rock her back and forth, a motion that reminded her of rocking chairs and ocean waves beneath a smooth sailing boat.

This is nice. I like this.