Toshinori is usually a patient man.
As the number one hero, he kind of has to be. He wouldn't be where he is otherwise. Sure, he runs headfirst into battles sometimes on nothing more than a whim and is probably too reckless for his own good, but he's certainly not stupid.
He isn't a child, and nor is he innocent by any means. He knows that good things come to those who wait.
In this very moment, however? In this specific circumstance? Toshinori is finding it very hard to be patient now. He doesn't want to just sit here and do nothing. That's not what heroes do. That's not what a mentor is supposed to do.
Toshinori is usually a patient man, but not when his kid is involved.
"I don't understand why I can't see him," he mutters, pacing the length of the large office with a hand on his chin. He's irritated, but he has every right to be.
"Calm yourself, please," Principal Nezu says. The mammal pushes a cup of golden liquid his way. "Would you like some tea?"
Toshinori stops pacing to stare at his boss. Is he seriously asking if he wants tea? Now, of all times? He shakes his head and resumes his troubled thinking. "I'm fine, thank you. I'm more concerned as to why you're keeping me here, Nezu."
A small sigh leaves the principal. "Don't be so dramatic, Yagi. If you truly didn't want to be here, you simply would not be. I doubt even I would be able to stop you from leaving this campus."
Honestly, Toshinori doubts that. Who knows what kind of contraptions the smaller hero has in this very office? Hell, he most definitely has some form of All Might level restraints. Toshinori isn't naive enough to believe he'd win easily in a fight against the mammal, especially when you take into account Nezu's intelligence. The number one hero won't stand a chance if his boss has access to his own equipment and support weapons.
Toshinori shivers at the mere thought. But besides that.
"You still haven't answered my question," he says in annoyance, glaring out the window. There's something about his boss that's making his nerves twitch. It's making it hard to keep his composure.
"I'm sure you're aware that Midoriya isn't doing very well, Yagi. Both emotionally and physically, the boy's well-being has been compromised." There's the sound of small clinking; Nezu is stirring his tea. "I'm afraid that seeing you would do more harm than good. He needs time to settle in."
Toshinori's head snaps toward him. "Settle in? They're taking him now?"
The mammal hums and waves at the clock on his desk. "He will be released from the hospital in less than an hour, if all things go as planned. Aizawa and Yamada will be taking him to their household then."
Damn it all. It's been a day since he left the boy's side to go to that stupid meeting—a day since Nezu stopped him from returning to him. And the worst part is the mammal hasn't even given him a straight answer as to why.
"Why can't I see him just for a few minutes? He is my successor, Nezu! I promised to be there for him—!" Toshinori dissolves into a fit of coughs and pointedly ignores the tissue box Nezu slides across the desk. "He probably thinks I don't want to see him. He's going to overthink things and worry himself sick if I don't come to see him!"
"I understand, but it's important that you remain here for the time being. It would help Midoriya more in the long run if you gave us a little insight to this particular situation."
No, Toshinori thinks bitterly. You just want to use me to out all of his secrets.
The hero sighs and swipes a large hand down his bony face. "What do you want to know?"
"Before that, it's important you know that it is not my intention to harm the boy with whatever information you might give. It is rather obvious you don't trust me at the moment." The principal leans forward in his chair. "But I hope you can work past that, as this will prove to be a learning experience for the both of us."
Toshinori doesn't answer right away. Instead he stares out the window and counts the droplets of rain that slide down the glass. He watches as the faraway trees dance in the wind and smack each other with their branches. The storm is so bad that he can feel the cracks of thunder reverberating in his bones.
It's not quite that he doesn't trust Nezu. He does, really. As scary and sadistic as his boss is, Toshinori knows he cares. At least artificially so. He wouldn't hurt one of his students, especially not one as important as Midoriya Izuku.
Toshinori just doesn't want to make Midoriya hate him. He feels as though he's already broken some of the boy's trust, as if he's already taken a hammer to their shared bond simply by just being here and talking about him behind his back. He doesn't even know the full story himself, so who is he to spill the boy's secrets—secrets that he doesn't even fully know?
Vigilante or not, Midoriya doesn't deserve to go through this pain, and he doesn't deserve to have people putting his name in their mouths when they know close to nothing about him. Hell, it seems that not even Toshinori knows anything about him.
It hurts a lot, the hero will admit, that he wasn't on the list of people the boy felt he could talk to, but he'll just have to get over that. The most important thing right now is getting Midoriya out of the shitty situation he's been thrown in.
He can't help but wonder, however, what his teacher would think of all this. Gran would probably kick his ass for being so ignorant and go on another rant about how incapable Toshinori is of teaching—which, if the current situation has anything to say about it, isn't a lie. They probably wouldn't be dealing with all of this right now if Toshinori could've just been better.
But with that fact comes another thought; the other edge of what is the unfortunate truth.
What would she think of all this?
A leaf sticks to the side of the wet window, and Toshinori grits his teeth. "I told you a while ago how I met Young Midoriya. What else do you need from me? He doesn't tell me a lot about his personal life, and it was never my place to ask."
"I've already figured out most of his personal connections and relationships, so you don't need to go into detail there. I am simply asking if there's ever been a time or event in which the boy has said something that perhaps struck you as odd." Nezu begins to type quickly on his computer, though his beady eyes never leave Toshinori's form. "Perhaps a word or phrase, or even a simple action, that made you pause for a moment. Something that might prove useful in the long run."
Toshinori, who's still stuck on the first part, has to push down the anger working up his throat at Nezu's lack of decency. Does he not care about Midoriya's privacy at all? He turns and takes a seat before the desk, his body aching at the incessant pacing.
"He's always been... unusual," Toshinori says, hating himself for even uttering these words behind his successor's back. "But that's just how he is, Nezu. I figured he had a lot of secrets, but I never pushed unless I thought they might be hurting him."
Like the lack of eating, he thinks to himself. And the bruises and burns on his skin.
The hero puts a hand over his face. "He would forget to eat sometimes, so I fed him when I could. The marks the doctors found on his body yesterday? He would tell me he got them by training at home."
"An obvious lie," Nezu chirps, causing Toshinori to wince. "It's clear now how those problems came to be. I imagine his vigilante activities became very harmful to his body after a period of time. Which leads me to our next topic."
The mammal presses a paw to the screen and enlarges it into a hologram, twisting it so Toshinori can see.
And fuck. The collage of pictures that greets him is not something he would've ever wanted to see so early in the morning. He can barely stomach the sight that sits before him.
"The bodies Aizawa found near Midoriya's building have left me with little answers and a ton of questions." Nezu zooms in on a few of the pictures, gesturing at the bloody, limp figures still stuck to the rooftops. "There's twenty-four of them, consisting of both heroes and villains. I hate to ask so bluntly, but do they mean anything to you, Yagi?"
Nezu swipes the screen, showing a list of profiles with each victims' name and occupation attached to their face. Toshinori furrows his eyebrows, hands gripping the arms of his chair as he leans forward to get a better look. "I don't think so, no. I might have seen a few of them in passing, but I don't know them personally."
"As I suspected. It seems they did not go after Midoriya because of his connections with you."
Toshinori deflates, blowing out the breath he didn't realized he'd been holding. "That's—that's good."
That makes him feel a little bit better, at least.
"Indeed. This does, however, pose a lot of interesting questions. The attackers seem to have known about Midoriya's alter ego prior to the bombing. According to Aizawa, Midoriya revealed they have also been trailing him for a bit of time leading up to this incident."
Toshinori sputters, the words not quite registering at first. "They what? That's—that's impossible! He would've told me! He would've—!"
"So everyone else has said, too." Nezu's voice suddenly takes on a more sympathetic tone as he minimizes the hologram. "Despite everyone's shock, the fact remains that Midoriya knew about his pursuers beforehand and chose not to reach out for help. He doesn't seem to be willing to share anything regarding his personal life or vigilante persona, which is to be expected as of this moment. I doubt we will make any true progress with that for a long while yet. We are, as they say, playing a waiting game."
A waiting game. The three words make Toshinori want to thunk his head onto the desk and never wake up. Honestly, fuck the idea of being patient. It's a scam created by the government to get people to overlook their wrongdoings.
God. Now he's starting to sound like the kid.
"I must admit that he's at least making this an interesting game, Yagi. While I was counting on him to run the moment he saw the unlocked window, it still took me by quite the surprise. Scaling down a hospital is not an easy feat, I assure you."
For a moment, Toshinori is sure he's misheard his boss, because what the actual fuck? Did he just say scaling down a hospital?
"What? He ran?" The panic that grips him almost has him spewing blood. He snaps to his feet, eyes wide. "When?"
Nezu simply waves him off, either not noticing his terror or not caring. "It's nothing to worry yourself over. Aizawa and Yamada were fortunately nearby and escorted him back before he could get very far."
The cryptic, near pleased tone of the mammal's words has Toshinori reeling. "Was he hurt? Why didn't I see this on the news? Surely someone would've been alarmed at seeing him run around the streets looking so beat up!"
And, more importantly, why wasn't I informed? He thinks bitterly, a fierce surge of protectiveness washing over him. I should've been one of the first told. I could've helped!
"This remained a private affair because I wished it so," Nezu answers with startling calmness, not offering an elaboration. "Midoriya is making it very difficult to keep this under wraps. He is, dare I say, trying to get us in a bit of legal trouble so we will be forced to let him go for now."
Toshinori sits back down with a huff, slightly less agitated at being told so late. His boss is making it sound like they're going to keep Midoriya prisoner. Toshinori knows he doesn't like doctors, so he can understand how the boy might feel like that at the hospital, but what about once he's released to stay with Aizawa and Yamada? The entire point of them watching over him is so he won't feel trapped.
But the more Toshinori thinks about it, the more he sees it.
He chews on his bottom lip, a tic that he thought his own mentor had scared out of him before graduating from UA. "You know he's not going to like being stuck in an unfamiliar house with nothing to do. He starts to get jittery when he's anxious."
His impulse control also seems to disappear, Toshinori thinks, remembering that occasion where Midoriya somehow got into a fight with a woodpecker in the five minutes he left the boy alone at the park.
"Of course," Nezu agrees. "Which is precisely why he will be closely monitored for the time being. He's already run from help once, and I have no doubts he'll attempt to do so again."
Something heavy lodges in his throat. Toshinori closes his eyes briefly and twists his neck to peer out the window again. He had figured, at the very back of his mind, that this would be the case. That Midoriya wouldn't accept this new situation so easily—not without a fight, at least.
He's known Midoriya for close to a year now. The boy has a problem with trust, that much is obvious, and he has an even bigger problem with sharing his emotions. It's only fitting that he'd have a problem with people helping him, too.
"Do you think he's trying to leave for good?" He asks, watching the wind die down for a moment before picking back up again.
Nezu runs his paws along the edge of his desk. "It appears so. That is why it was best for all of us to let Aizawa and Yamada handle his escape from the hospital. I personally believe they're the two best candidates for defusing this situation, so to speak."
Fuck. The worst part of all this is that Toshinori thinks so, too. He wouldn't be able to help Midoriya in any way that matters. He's obviously done a poor job up to now.
The mammal is right, but the guilt is still there, weighing him down and souring his insides, and he can't help but try again, one more time. "If you'd let me see him for just a moment, I swear I'll do anything! I—I left my sweater on his chair!"
There's a small quirk of the principal's lip. "The boy is keeping very good care of your sweater, though whether or not it will return to you later is still up for debate."
Damnit. Why must Nezu be so stubborn? Toshinori feels like a sad parent who's begging with the judge for visitation rights.
"The students only had yesterday and today off," Toshinori starts, trying to trip him up. "What will happen to him tomorrow when school starts again?"
"He will be on break for a week. All excused absences, mind you. As I said, Aizawa will be staying with him to keep him company until he's fully healed, as he's still very much a flight risk."
The term prisoner is suddenly starting to sound all the more appropriate, huh? This doesn't sound humane at all, but it's not like they have a better option. They can't just let Midoriya run again, can they? He'll hurt himself.
The blond hero is resigned more than anything now. "What about the internships? They start up right after next week, don't they?"
"The internships will be pushed back." Principal Nezu smiles, revealing pointed white teeth. "It's standard protocol when a student turns out to be a wanted vigilante."
Toshinori snorts despite himself, the irony of it all finally getting to him. His yellow suit feels near suffocating on his thin body. It's like they're all in a very weird limbo, like they're just waiting for something to happen.
Hopefully it's good, whatever it might be. Lord knows they won't be able to handle another bomb dropped on them.
Nezu lets the comfortable silence stretch on for a minute before sharpening his expression. "You know why I really called you here again."
It's sickly sweet, almost falsely cheerful, and Toshinori bows his head. Sweat beads at the top of his forehead near his hands. He does know. He's very much aware of the question Nezu truly wanted to ask him. And yet it still takes him a few seconds to formulate a response.
"This doesn't feel like All for One's doing. If he somehow knew—" he chokes up, but it's not because of blood this time. "If he knew I was training Young Midoriya, he would've just taken him. Especially if he knew I already passed it on. He wouldn't have failed and just left him for dead, Nezu. That's... that's not his style."
No. If he truly wanted to, All for One would've swiped the boy out from under his nose and gloated about it on live TV, probably.
But it doesn't matter. There's no proof that All for One is even still alive. He—he's dead, as far as All Might is concerned. Anything that says otherwise is just pure speculation.
Nezu sighs painfully. "Of course. My apologies, I just needed your input. But pushing that aside, there's also the matter of who ended all of those heroes and villains the other night. The scene was quite gory, as you saw. I also believe whoever it was also dropped off our dear cat."
Toshinori frowns at the word choice. "I was under the impression they killed each other? Did they not?"
"That's what the police were told, Yagi, and it's not far from the truth. Upon closer inspection, however," a swipe of the paw brings back up the pictures on the hologram, "it seems they all died of the same wounds. They're all of the same pattern and technique. It's as if they were working together against one force, rather than against each other."
Oh, this is definitely not All for One's doing, either. That isn't his style of killing.
He sucks in a breath. The idea of heroes working with villains is like taboo. No one is willing to even risk thinking something like that lest they get attacked. But it has to be possible in this case if Nezu is suggesting it.
"Working together? Then what happened to them, do you think?"
Nezu puts his paws together, the light catching on his perfectly-manicured nails. "I'm sure you've heard of what happened to Ingenium just a couple of days ago?"
The hero jolts. "You're not saying—"
"Unfortunately so." He shakes his head, displeased, but Toshinori knows better. Nezu is damn near excited at these turn of events. The principal loves puzzles, and this one has a ton of pieces that just don't quite seem to fit anywhere. It must be like a goldmine for the mammal.
Damnit, Young Midoriya. What have you gotten yourself into?
"I believe the Hero Killer has some sort of past relationship with Midoriya Izuku." Nezu lets out a small, dangerous smile. "For why else would he kill twenty-four heroes and villains to prevent them from coming after him?"
And with that bomb having been dropped, Toshinori finds himself wishing that he could actually drink alcohol without being rushed to the emergency room.
Aizawa Shouta is a stubborn man, Izuku finds. He's also a stubborn, annoying man.
So annoying, in fact, that Izuku is currently debating whether or not he should throw the paper cup filled with water he'd been given right at the hero's head.
Would it stop Aizawa from being annoying? No. Would it make Izuku feel better? Yes.
He takes a small sip of the water before placing it down on the mini table that hangs over his bed. He pushes it aside and goes back to listening to the storm raging outside. Each clap of thunder has his heart beating a little faster in his chest, and he finds himself fiddling with the sleeves of All Might's sweater almost constantly.
It's not that he's afraid of storms, it's just that they're loud. He would usually cuddle with Missy during times like this, or maybe even try to distract himself with work, but now he can't do any of those things, which is also annoying him.
Speaking of annoyances.
He glances at the hero to his right, eyes narrowing once he sees the new book Aizawa has taken to reading.
Vigilantism: Morally Wrong or Morally Required?
Okay, that's it. Izuku is this fucking close to losing his marbles. He's gotta be doing this on purpose now.
The boy barely refrains from outright hissing at his teacher, instead deciding to be the bigger person and ignore the obvious jab. His hands come up to itch at the fading burn on his neck, and he winces at the feeling of dead skin peeling off and gathering under his nails.
Disgusting.
Why can't Aizawa leave him alone? Just for a moment? Just so Izuku can hightail it out of here? The hero has been sitting in that same fucking chair for an entire day now, refusing to move whatsoever. It's like he's a damn bodyguard, except instead of guarding Izuku, he's guarding the door.
It's dumb, it's degrading, and it makes Izuku feel like shit. To make matters worse, All Might hasn't come back yet, so obviously the boy has somehow pissed off his other mentor, too.
He's just one colossal fuck-up.
Izuku shakes himself and slides off the bed, needing to just do something. He pads over to the whiteboard on the wall, his fluffy socks protecting his feet from the cold floor, and stares yet again at the time written in marker at the top right.
He's going to be released soon. That's what they said, at least. He wouldn't put it past the doctors to lie to him.
The time can't come quick enough, though. The moment the clock hits eleven, he's out of here. He's not going to waste any more precious seconds. He's already been here for far too long. He feels fine, damnit. Why can't everyone see that?
"The nurse will be here soon with your lunch," Aizawa tells him, as if Izuku didn't already know that. The schedule for food is written on the board, too, for fuck's sake. He's not blind.
"I still don't know why I can't go down there myself. I can walk to the food court and back," Izuku says sourly, turning to stare at the man. Except he ends up moving a little too fast, and the world beneath him sways. Black dots corner the edges of his vision, and for a hot second he feels like he's going to pass out. But the dizziness passes quickly enough, and he blinks back to the present. "I'm literally the healthiest person alive."
Aizawa just turns a page of his book and peers at him over his frames. That's another new thing: the fact that the hero wears glasses when reading for an extended period of time. Izuku never knew that before, and he feels kind of irritated that he somehow didn't.
"Why are you up?" His teacher asks, completely ignoring the previous comments.
Izuku bristles at the tone, at the way it sounds more like a warning than a question. "To go to the bathroom. What, you think I'm going to escape via the toilet?"
Aizawa just blinks at him, causing Izuku to flush in embarrassment. Okay, so maybe Izuku is being the annoying one.
But that doesn't matter. Aizawa shouldn't be here, and he also shouldn't be acting like he has any control over him, because he doesn't. Not at all. He's just his teacher—certainly not his parent.
The doctors that have been referring to him as Izuku's guardian don't know what they're talking about.
He practically flees to the bathroom, muttering an apology before shutting the door with haste. Just because he's pissed off doesn't mean he should take it out on Aizawa. Even if most of his irritation stems from the man.
Izuku washes his hands and splashes water over his face, pointedly ignoring his reflection in the mirror. He feels dirty, and he just knows he looks like a sewer rat now. The bathroom doesn't have an attached shower, and even if Izuku were to ask for one he doubts they'd let him use it, being a flight-risk and all. But even if they were to say yes...
Hell will freeze over by the time he agrees to let a stranger be present while he showers himself. That's not happening in a million years.
So Izuku wets some paper towels under the sink and wipes it over his arms and legs, trying to get the remaining dirt and soot off. It's not much, but it's the best he can do for now.
Despite trying to avoid looking in the mirror, his eyes can't help but latch onto the thin white scar on his jaw. The doctors told him it came from a piece of flying shrapnel that hit him during one of the explosions. Apparently, it had sliced his cheek quite deeply, meaning the scar will never fully fade.
He'll have to live with it, as ugly as it looks.
Izuku has never cared about his appearance before, but he knows this is going to be the only thing he sees whenever he looks at his face for months to come.
Lunch doesn't make him feel any better.
There's a tray on his bed's mini table by the time he comes out of the bathroom, and he tries to hide his disgust at the mere sight of the food.
They give him the same thing every time: a light vegetable broth, a cup of mandarin oranges, some water, and a mystery pudding.
That sounds pretty good, in all honesty, but Izuku wouldn't know how it tastes saying as he hasn't eaten any of it.
He's just not hungry.
The doctors have him on nutritional pills, which are supposed to make up for his lack of eating. Those pills, plus the six other types of medications they make him take every few hours, are causing him to lose his appetite. Hell, if anything he's just more thirsty.
"The soup is good for you," Aizawa says without looking up from his phone. It seems the book will be finished at another time. "If you're not going to eat much, at least eat that."
Izuku forces himself to nod, pushing down the petulant words that ache to escape him. Don't tell me what to do.
It's the same conversation being repeated for the fourth time. He missed out on the hospital's breakfast yesterday for obvious reasons, but lunch and dinner went the same way. Izuku would be brought the same food, he wouldn't touch it, Aizawa would say something to him to try and get him to eat, and Izuku would ignore him.
Breakfast this morning went slightly different, however, as he did end up drinking some apple juice that Yamada snuck in for him.
The voice hero has been in and out of the hospital in the past twenty-four hours. He arrived back just after lunch yesterday with a small bag of Izuku's things, saying that he unfortunately had to confiscate some of the weapons and more incriminating stuff (he'd have to check everything in through security, after all), but Izuku didn't mind. He was more surprised that the man brought back anything at all.
Yamada stayed with him for a few hours, just talking with him and trying to get him to feel better, before having to leave to feed the cats. He also came by quickly this morning to give Aizawa a change of clothes and some books, slipping Izuku the juice box in the process.
That drink is now the one thing holding his sanity together. He will require another one soon, though, so perhaps he should look into some of the nearby grocery stores to see if they're easy to steal from.
Izuku reaches for the bag he set between the wall and the bed, pulling out his oldest notebook. He's been playing with it a lot since Yamada brought it over, more to remind himself that it's safe, that his secrets are safe, than out of boredom.
It's still storming like a bitch outside, so Izuku busies himself with looking through his journal and memorizing each word written in it.
Just a little longer. Just a little longer and then Izuku can get out of here—
There's a faint spike in his mind, and Izuku looks to the door just a few moments before it slams open, revealing a disheveled looking Present Mic in his hero costume.
"Good morning!" He yells, even though he'd said the exact same thing a few hours before. "How's my favorite listeners doing, huh? Good?"
"Dear god," Aizawa sighs, rubbing his temple. "We're in a hospital, Mic. Could you be any louder?"
The dark side of Izuku, the side that craves chaos and lives for pissing people off, tells him to make a joke, but the boy refrains from doing so at the last moment.
"Aw, c'mon, don't be such a grump! I've got some great news!" Yamada rears back and points double finger-guns at Izuku, grin wide. "You get to leave a little early!"
For a good few seconds, there's dead silence. Yamada stays in that position, looking back and forth between the other hero and vigilante as he waits for a response.
Well, shit, Izuku thinks, shaking himself from his stupor and beginning to pack his belongings. You don't have to tell me twice.
"What?" Aizawa asks, obviously skeptical.
Yamada nods excitedly. "Yep! The doc passed me on the way here!" He hands Aizawa the release papers and goes to help Izuku with his stuff, ruffling the boy's hair. "Hopefully the storm calms down for a bit so we can leave."
Izuku probably should've paid attention to the wording, as he would've been a little more alarmed at the word we, but he's too busy trying to reach the cat beanie Aizawa placed on one of the shelves.
Curse his five-foot-two self. He had hoped One for All would've at least helped him grow a little, but it appears not.
Yamada, the tall bastard, gets the beanie for him and then starts to politely straighten up the room.
Hah. Couldn't be Izuku.
The moment the boy has his bag in one hand and his medicine in the other, he starts to speed walk out the open door. It's not hard to navigate to the elevator, as he'd memorized the layout of the hospital when Aizawa led him back yesterday. The adrenaline pumping through him is almost like a drug.
"Woah, wait a second, kiddo!" Yamada rushes in beside him, laughing. "Someone's excited, yeah?"
Aizawa follows at a much slower pace, lugging his overnight bag over his shoulder. He looks dead tired, and Izuku suddenly feels a little bit guilty at possibly being the cause of that.
He's practically vibrating in excitement, the idea of being able to finally continue his plan and leave being almost too good to be true—or Izuku really is just going through a relapse.
The automatic doors slide open, and Izuku nearly stumbles as he jogs out of the elevator. He doesn't stop even when the lady at the front desk calls out his name, obviously having been informed of his escape yesterday. He hears Aizawa pause to show her the papers, and then he's out in the fresh air.
Heavy rain drops onto his face and skin, soaking him almost immediately to the bone, but he doesn't care. This is the first taste of freedom he's had in what feels like forever.
God, he hates hospitals so fucking much. They do nothing but freak him the hell out.
He glances around, deciding to go to the left. There's a store a little ways over there that's usually pretty lenient with him when he enters. They won't kick him out or—
"Hey, hey!" Yamada's warm hand gently lands on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. "The car's the other way!"
Izuku wipes the rain from his eyes and looks up at the hero. His teacher's face is soft, his green gaze kind and honest, and the boy hates how it makes him feel so small. "Oh, uh, I'm fine walking, thank you. You don't have to drive me anywhere."
You've already done too much. I won't be able to repay you for just being there for me.
Yamada frowns, hand retracting from his shoulder. His glasses fog up, and Izuku notices his hair starting to droop from the constant thrum of rain. The gel must be coming off.
"Drive you anywhere?" He echoes, blinking in confusion. "Did Sho not tell you, kiddo?"
Izuku tenses as lightning cracks somewhere in the distance. "Tell me what?"
Yamada doesn't seem to get it at first, but then his face lights up in realization, and he whips around to glare at Aizawa, who's just now walking up to them with a yellow umbrella. "I can't believe it!" He gasps, shocked. "The nerve of you, Shouta! You said you'd tell him!"
The underground hero raises his hands in mock surrender, his even gaze flitting over to meet Izuku's. "I told you I'd tell him eventually, Mic. I never said when."
"Are you serious?"
Izuku listens to them both argue for a moment, incredibly confused. He thinks he knows what's going on, but he's still unsure. Now that they're both distracted, though, the boy sees his chance and decides screw it, why not? He tries to casually walk away, hoping they won't notice, but Aizawa's hand shoots out and snags him by the collar of the shirt. He easily pulls him back without so much as a pause in his sentence.
Fuck. So much for that.
The air is getting colder now, and Izuku starts to shiver. He can hardly think past the static building up in his mind.
Yamada seems to notice Izuku's change in attitude, as he stops laying into Aizawa at once and glances back at him, seeing that he has more pressing issues at the moment. He purses his lips and presents Izuku with a small smile. "Well, I guess I'm telling you, then, huh? You're coming back with us, Midoriya. To our house!"
Yeah, that's... not what Izuku thought he was going to say, that's for sure. "Eh?" He says intelligently, because what the fuck.
Is it April Fool's Day and he just wasn't informed? Should he be laughing right now?
Yamada takes the heavier bag from his grip and rests a hand on the boy's head. "How do you feel about coming to stay with me and Sho for a few weeks?"
Yeah, Izuku has decided that he doesn't get paid enough to deal with this shit.
Yamada is a better driver than Aizawa.
Izuku's pencil, courtesy of the voice hero, scrawls the sentence quickly onto the paper of his notebook. This little fact became evident about 0.2 seconds into the current drive.
Where Aizawa is jerky and either too-slow or too-fast, Yamada is smooth and obviously familiar with the speed limits around here. He actually seems like he knows how to drive.
He's also a good multitasker. It's surprising how many people can't talk correctly while driving, but Yamada does it normally.
The teacher made it very clear that this is Izuku's decision alone. They're not going to force him to do anything or choose anything permanent just yet, as that's not their intention. They just want the best for him, which is why they offered to house him in the first place.
And it's baffling. Izuku doesn't understand why. He doesn't understand why they're doing any of this. It's weird, it's warm, and it's too kind. They're not getting anything out of this, so why go through all this trouble? It doesn't make sense,damnit.
Yamada said that he unfortunately only has two choices at the moment: the orphanage, or their shared apartment. He seemed very upset when Izuku asked him about the only other option—jail, so Izuku made a note to himself not to bring that up again.
It's nice, Izuku thinks absentmindedly, that he even bothered to explain all of this to him. The hero truly doesn't want to make Izuku uncomfortable or force him into anything he doesn't want to do, which is different.
Not a lot of people ever cared this much for him. It's an almost foreign feeling.
Izuku is glad that he'd been given a choice, even though the answer was pretty obvious. Going to an orphanage means he'd have to leave all of his stuff behind, as they surely wouldn't let him keep any of his belongings. It also means he'd be putting more innocent people in danger, which is a no-go. Besides, he knows how terrible orphanages can be. The foster care system is even worse.
Even if he managed to escape, he knows that someone would be watching him, and then he'd be captured and the cycle would start over again.
Going with Yamada and Aizawa isn't much better, but at least they already know a lot about him. They know about him being Rabbit, they know about some of his personal life, they know about Midoriya Izuku.
Going to an orphanage would mean a restart, almost, and just a few days ago Izuku thought that a restart was necessary for his survival.
But maybe not. Maybe now that his secrets have been revealed he can just hang in there for a while and gather his thoughts. Maybe he can hit the pause button for a moment, if only to catch his breath. So much stuff has happened that he can barely wrap his head around it.
Would he... would he be allowed to have this?
Izuku stares up at his teachers' apartment complex through the windshield, heart thudding almost painfully against his ribs. His nerves are struck, and he's feeling more unsure now more than ever.
What made him say yes again? He doesn't remember.
Yamada turns off the ignition and gives Izuku another considering look. "Are you sure you're alright?"
The vigilante (ex-vigilante, now?) nods shakily, opening the passenger side door quickly as if to prove his point. Aizawa emerges from the backseat, having been banished there for apparently being mean to Yamada, and leads the boy up to the apartment without a word.
Izuku can't help but stick close to Aizawa as they walk. The two heroes live on the sixth floor, so that's nice, at least. Izuku likes being up high.
The green-haired boy shivers when they finally make it up, drops of rain still clinging to him. He felt bad about getting in the car while still wet, but Yamada had assured him it was fine.
Aizawa unlocks the door and pushes it open, gesturing for Izuku to go in first—the wrong move, honestly.
He stops just a few steps in, eyes wide as he takes in the apartment before him, only to yelp as Aizawa practically shoves him forward in order to close the door in time. Izuku sees why once he spots the three furry figures darting forward from various areas in the room.
Izuku has seen so many pictures of these cats that he could probably pick them out by name, and he stops himself from bending down to pet one of them. He doesn't want to scare any of them off. He's the guest here, after all.
The apartment is nice, to put it simply. It's larger than Izuku's was, with much nicer furniture and air conditioning, along with what looks like a newly remodeled kitchen. It's clean, homely, and altogether a very expensive-looking apartment.
To say Izuku is surprised is an understatement. He never thought Aizawa would bother to live somewhere like this. He'd expected a smaller apartment, at least. But then again, Yamada also lives here, so that explains it. A bold house to go with a bold hero.
"Don't mind the cats!" The blond calls from the kitchen. He's rummaging through the cabinets for something. "They're a little shy at first."
They certainly don't seem shy, Izuku thinks, looking down at the fluffy gray cat rubbing at the sweatpants the hospital gave him. He keeps quiet, though.
"You can move around, you know," Aizawa says, heading for the couch. "Leave your shoes by the door. There's an extra pair of slippers right there you can use for now."
He points to them, and Izuku nods. They're gray, and they look pretty big, but it's fine. He won't be staying for long anyway.
"Oh! Let me show you where you'll be sleeping!" Yamada springs from the kitchen and heads down the hall, beckoning Izuku to come after him. The boy does so with some hesitancy, trying not to trip over the calico cat that starts to do figure-eights around his feet. "This used to be the guest room, but it'll be yours now! I know it's a little plain, so don't be afraid to put up some posters or anything, 'kay?"
Izuku clears his throat and nods again, stepping inside the room to put down his bag. He tries not to show his awe at just how big it is compared to his old one but ultimately fails, causing Yamada to giggle.
"I'll leave you to settle in for a few minutes, and then I'll take you for a house tour! How does that sound?"
A house tour? Izuku doesn't know what that could possibly entail, but it's not like there's much else to do, so why not? "Um, yeah, that's good." He stands in the middle of the room awkwardly until Yamada shuts the door with a soft click, one of the cats meowing in protest.
Hm. It seems they kind of like him.
Izuku sits on the full-sized bed, head held in his hands now that he's alone. Things still don't feel real to him. He can't believe he's here right now, sitting in his teachers' apartment instead of being chained up in a prison somewhere.
This is better than he could have ever hoped for, but this is also the worst thing that could've ever happened to him. It's interesting how things end up, isn't it?
Izuku stares at the framed cat pictures scattered on the dresser, sighing to himself.
Just for a little while, he promises. He can stay just long enough to get himself together. Then he'll run, for good this time. He won't fail.
That's how it has to be.