*Warning: mentions of death
Izuku didn't know how to feel.
Two days ago he had discovered his parents were gone.
One day ago he'd found out his ability to overthink was his greatest talent to date.
To morn over someone you never met.
The idea of it seemed tragic. But would he have wanted to remember? Surely to know what they had looked like, talked like, would be more painful. So maybe he should be grateful those memories were taken from him.
It was lonely.
To no longer have memories to keep him company. It was like he'd been isolated from himself.
But Shouta was there.
Even if he was just there to boss him around.
Izuku had learned over the past two days he was very accident prone; something Shouts claimed to have known since the day Izuku stepped foot in his classroom.
Honestly- he wasn't trying to get himself into these messes. It was more like the messes were finding him.
In his defense, there was no way he could have known the floor would be so slippery...or carpet...but that was besides the point.
The point was he'd caused enough chaos that now he was growing doubtful Shouta would ever trust him to go further than the front yard.
And that's how he found himself awkwardly shuffling in front of Shouta's door like a little kid about to tell their parent they'd spilled glitter paint in the carpet. Not just regular paint. Glitter paint. The kind that was going to outlive the entire human race.
It had been an interesting five minutes in Izuku's life. He'd been rehearsing what the best thing to say was when asking a teacher you barely knew to take you to a parent you didn't know.
Hey I know I tried to runaway and fight you to the death. But I'm totally cool now. Can you take me to my mother's grave? Also I think I broke the microwave.
Maybe he should save the microwave bit until after Shouta agreed to take him.
Izuku grimaced. No. That would most definitely not be a good plan. It would be best to avoid topics of his past actions completely.
He tried again, quietly whispering to himself.
"Hello. Who says that? Hello? Okay no, hi. Yes. Hi Shouta. I want you to take me somewhere where I promise to not runaway."
Izuku stopped again. When had talking become so hard?
"Hi. Please take me to see my mom or I'll revolt... Okay no that's too strong."
Izuku folded his hands together as he thought. What would a rational person say. That was a hard one. He was pretty sure he'd had yet to meet a rational person since he lost his memories. Maybe the nurse had been, but after meeting him that period of her life was surely over.
"Hi Shouta. You probably don't trust me, but what do you say you forget about that for a few hours a take me to my mother...or maybe start with asking him how he is doing?"
Izuku nodded to himself. Yeah that seemed like a normal opener.
"Hi Shouta, how are you doing?"
"Good. Yourself?"
Izuku wished there was a more dignified way of saying what he did next. But there really wasn't. He shrieked, jumping at least three feet in the air.
Izuku's eyes grew into saucers as he looked up to see Shouta's door no longer closed. He was standing there, arms crossed over his chest, looking way too amused.
"Calm down kid. It's too early for you to be this excited."
Slowly recovering from that awful jump scare,literally, Izuku cleared his throat awkwardly. "But- it's two in the afternoon?"
Shouta didn't answer him, instead staring him down like he was about to make Izuku confess to murder.
Izuku fidgeted uncomfortably.
"You broke something didn't you?"
All the blood rushed to Izuku's face. "No!"
Shouta quirked an eyebrow.
"Yes."
This is what his life had come to.
Shouta stood up a little straighter. "Alright. You're not in trouble, come show me what's broken," he said, beginning to step past Izuku.
"Wait!" Izuku practically squeaked. "I um, wanted to ask you something," Izuku stalled. Still very unsure how to word his request. "Take me to my mom...please?"
Shouta's eyes softened. "I don't think that's a good idea kid. You've had a lot of strong emotions in the past few days. We don't want to push it too far."
Ah yes. Teacher turned therapist. Just what Izuku ordered.
He couldn't be too mad at Shouta. He had been the one to deal with Izuku after all, and that was no easy task.
"I'm okay. Really. I was upset at first. But I'm okay now. I just want to go to get closure," Izuku promised. He went as far as to place a hand over his heart like he'd seen the people do in the movies Shouta showed him.
Shouta did not look convinced.
Izuku tried something else he'd seen in the movies. Widening his eyes enough they would start to water. "Please?"
There was an exaggerated silence before Shouta groaned. He ran a hand down his face like he was an old man that had just found out kids had been playing in his yard again.
Izuku held his breath, continuing to give the 'puppy dog eyes method' everything he had.
Shouta sighed, "Get in the car."
The car ride over was surprisingly short.
Izuku got out slowly, glancing around the mostly empty space.
It wasn't as dark as he imagined it to be. Flowers littered the pathway with sagging tree branches hanging low around them.
"Take as much time as you need," Shouta spoke gently. He stayed close but still gave Izuku enough space to not be suffocating.
Izuku steadied himself. He could do this. He'd been the one who begged to be here.
So why was it so daunting now?
He glanced up at Shouta. Something in his teacher's eyes gave him comfort. As if he was silently saying 'I'll stay right here'.
One step forward. Then another. Izuku found himself slowly moving down the path.
The gravel crunched under his sneakers, making each step feel all the more definite.
It seemed to him he walked for a long time before Shouta finally stopped him, gesturing to a grave off the to side.
It was small, smaller than most of the surrounding graves. Izuku could faintly see decaying petals of flowers that must have been left a long time ago.
He stepped carefully, trying his best to not jostle the silence around them as he knelt down.
There were words engraved on the front, darkening the faded gray.
Inko Midoriya
Wife, mother, and friend.
May her memory and kindness live on.
"She was a great woman," Shouta suddenly spoke up. His voice was soft, matching the atmosphere around them.
Izuku could hear Shouta kneeling down in the grass beside him, but he didn't look away from his mother's name.
"I met her once when she came to the school. She told me how you wanted to be a great hero. A hero that could smile even when you were scared. And that she would do everything she could to help support you."
Birds chirped from overhead. He could clear the fluttering of their wings in the treetops, like they were gathering around to watch the display.
"She wanted me to be a hero?" Izuku asked after a long period of silence.
Shouta chuckled. "I don't know about that. She was very worried for your safety. She made me promise to keep a close eye on you."
That made more sense. Izuku found it hard to imagine a parent that would want to support their child going into such a dangerous industry.
"But she supported me anyways," Izuku said, mostly to himself.
"I think she was just happy to see you so happy," Shouta explained.
The birds around them seemed to chirp in agreement.
Izuku's didn't say anything else.
Instead, he brought a hand up. His fingers brushed against the stone tentatively. It was cool to the touch, a contrast to the sun's warmth falling on them.
Inko Midoriya
She must have been wonderful.
He carefully traced the letters, memorizing the sloping curve of the letters.
Midoriya
Had that always been her name? Was it his father's?
There were so many questions still left unanswered. Questions about his past, who he was, who he was supposed to be.
"Midoriya?" Shouta questioned. "Are you okay?"
Izuku looked up suddenly, broken out of the transe he'd fallen into.
Shouta was watching him carefully. He looked concerned.
Izuku nodded.
"It's okay to not be okay. If you're feeling confused or upset right now. You have every right to feel that way," Shouta assured him.
There was something warm falling down his cheeks. Izuku brought a hand to his face, surprised.
"I didn't realize I was crying," Izuku stated. His voice sounded shocked even to his own ears.
Shouta nodded. "That's normal. You're probably too overwhelmed to fully understand what you're feeling. I do want you to talk to me or another staff member about how you're doing. But we can hold off on that for right now."
Izuku titled his head. "But I'm okay? Why do I need to talk about my feeling with someone?"
Shouta seemed to consider his next words carefully. "Because it's not healthy to keep all your emotions to yourself. And it can help me help you."
Izuku wanted to argue against that last statement. But it seemed pretty non-negotiable.
Instead he asked, "Can we go home now?"
Shouta agreed right away, helping Izuku up and leading him back to the car.
Something had changed. Izuku couldn't figure out exactly what that change was.
But he knew things would be different from that point on. Like the way you knew spring was coming or a storm was on the horizon.
But instead of being intimating, the knowledge was comforting.
Maybe the parents he thought would take care of him weren't there. But maybe, maybe he'd found someone who would.
Izuku buckled himself in, settling down into the soft leather as he waited for Shouta to get to the driver's side.
Once they were both situated Izuku cleared his throat.
"Shouta?" He asked, he kept his eyes glued in front of him. Not being able to bring himself to watch Shouta's reaction.
"Yes?"
"When-" Not when. His memories were not a guarantee. He might never get that past life back. "If I get my memories back, will you still take care of me?" Izuku asked. Slight desperation had leaked into his words, revealing just how scared he really was.
But he was no longer scared of Shouta, he was only afraid to lose him.
He didn't know what thing would be like with his memories back, if that feeling of being lost would disappear or linger on.
But at least with Shouta, he'd never have to be alone.
The car's engine hummed to life.
"I'll always be here kid," Shouta said. His voice tinged with an unidentifiable emotion. Izuku hoped it was happiness.
"Promise?" Izuku asked.
"Promise."
---
Ahh sorry. Writing sad stuff is still not my forte. But it was necessary to get that out there for reasons we will visit in a later chapter.
But after this there will be some much needed fluff.
Thanks for reading! Can't wait for the next chapter! Spoiler, It has my favorite oblivious boy in it. ;)