Aizawa kept re-reading the file Tsukaushi had fetched for him. The cold case of one Midorya Inko, found dead in her apartment ten years ago, still unsolved with not much leads to go by. Her corpse, that was burned beyond recognition, was found by her friend and neighbor. By one-
Oh, that complicates things.
Midorya Inko's body was found by one Bakugou Mitsuki, found unresponsive at the crime scene with a disturbed mental state.
And one other.
His own student, the one that had bursted into this very facility yesterday night, Bakugou Katsuki, was found unconsciousness at the scene as well. With no memories of what had happened, he couldn't even recall being there with his mother, and couldn't help in providing an explanation for his mother's terrible state.
The investigators concluded that Mrs. Bakugou had received a tremendous chock because of witnessing Mrs. Midorya's state, yet no one has been able to determine if anything else had happened to the woman.
Aizawa sighed heavily as he recalled the conversation of the previous night with his student. An address that simply popped into his head? With a password and a map? Not that he doubted his student, but that was incredibly sketchy and unbelievable.
Not without massive resistance and objections, Shouta managed to escorted -more like drag with his capture weapon- the explosive teen home last night, after hearing his story about his mother. Which was what led him to Midorya Inko's file.
The first-year student claims that he saw Izuku in a dream of his, and that he had a feeling he was connected to his mother's condition somehow.
Aizawa found the entire thing questionable, but a slight reveal of his thoughts and the blond would've exploded in his face. Literally.
So for now, the hero was determined to research every last bit of Midorya Inko's case. How convenient that it was a weekend.
It was time he got answers to his questions.
****
"Absolutely not!" Shinsou retorted back in dismay. He was not spending his precious weekend hanging with his mother while she worked!
Sachiko scowled and turned his way, stopping midway with her dress's zipper. A flash of something foreign that Hitoshi had never associated with his mother's enthusiastic and kind features was briefly evident, before it was replaced with sternness and resolution.
"That is not up to debate. I'm not leaving you alone. You are coming with me. No objections allowed." She made her final decision.
Hitoshi grunted under his breath in annoyance. When his mother was like this, there was no backing down.
Yet it was weird, how possessive and clingy she had been acting. The woman had never been a pushover, sure, but she used to be more easygoing and flexible.
"Ugh! Come help me with this stupid zipper!" She called from her room after countless failed attempts at reaching her back and zipping the zipper all the way up.
Hitoshi walked over begrudgingly to her, helping the shorter woman. She had always liked to tease him about their height difference, as people always assumed they were brother and sister instead of mother and son.
After doing the zipper, Hitoshi stood at the door frame, leaning slightly on it, as he observed his mother fumbling and running around trying to get ready for work. Sachiko was a beautiful woman that would've looked younger than her actual age, only for the dark circles under her eyes. Hitoshi had always felt guilty growing up, watching how hard it was for his mother to raise him as a single parent, which certainly didn't get easier after he got his hated villainous quirk. She had always blamed herself that Hitoshi inherited a variant of her quirk, so he tried as much as he could to hide the misery and hardships he had to live through because of it.
The U.A student's gaze followed his mother's steps as she sat on the bed, putting on her high heels with on hand and tucking away a stay hair lock behind her ear with the other. He studied and tracked ever stress line and every wrinkle that littered her exhausted face, scrunching his face as the guilt flared up in his chest once more, and crossed his arms.
Maybe he will tag along if that's what she really wanted.
Just this one time.
*****
Eri has been crying all day long. Her mental state deteriorating drastically that they had to call after Mirio, despite it being his day off. But he, of course, didn't mind one bit.
Mirio sat with Eri still weeping on his lap, her face buried in his chest.
"Why is he not answering me? Does he hate me?!" She asked the same question for the forth time that day.
"Of course not, Eri-chan. He just needs to rest." Mirio answered the same answer he had given every time. Not once did he sound impatient or annoyed by her recurring apprehensions.
Mirio didn't know what exactly had happened yesterday, but it seemed like Izuku was back to being unresponsive and disassociated. Eri was handling that very badly and he had no idea how to help her. The only thing he managed was holding her gently and answering her questions patiently.
Fortunately, Sachiko-Sensei had an appointment with Eri scheduled for the day, and while he knew for sure that they won't be doing whatever the kind therapist had planned, the session would definitely help the devastated girl, seeing how found she had become of her therapist.
The two nurses whom had been helping the other boy stepped out of the his room, informing Mirio that Izuku is doing relatively okay and that he would physically be fine in a few hours. They hurriedly walked to their rooms, seemingly done with their shores for the day.
A few minutes after, upon hearing the front door of the single-floor facility open, everyone present tensed and shifted into a defensive stance, yesterday's events still fresh in their minds.
Aizawa, who had been burying himself in some sort of research all day long, flung Matsuda's office door wide open in alert.
They all relaxed instantly, however, at the sight of the purple haired duo standing in the hallway.
Sachiko gave a warming smile as she gave a small bow to the hero and turned to face the hero-in-training standing in the living room.
"Good afternoon." Her familiar voice made Eri stop her cries shortly to look at her beloved shrink.
"Sachiko-Sensei," she exclaimed weakly, climbing down from Mirio's lap. She hesitated in walking to the woman when she saw the unfamiliar teen beside her.
"Oh! I hope you don't mind my son tagging along." She smiled and ruffled the taller teen's mop of hair.
"Aizawa-Sensei? Why is Aizawa-sensei in your workplace?" Hitoshi wondered out loud, not focusing on the little girl as much as he stared at his newly returned sensei.
"That's a long story, Shinsou." Aizawa was too tired to explain further. He nodded to the therapist as a sign of approval and re-entered the study room, shutting the door behind him.
Hitoshi stared at the empty spot as he wondered why his teacher didn't seem too surprised to see him with the woman. Was he perhaps already aware of the relation between the two?
And what was this place? Why was there a little girl living with his teacher? Wait, was this his teacher's house? Why does his mother need to come to his teacher's house? Didn't she work in a hospital? Since when did she start coming to private residences?
He wondered if it had anything to do with financial problems that his mother needed to start taking more jobs, or if this was just a part of her normal duties. And was that...
"Togata-Senpai?" Even senpai didn't seem fazed by Hitoshi's sudden appearance. What the hell was going on in here?
Sachiko, ignoring the obvious question mark painted on her son's face, took off her heels before entering the room and crouching down to Eri's level.
The tearstained face and whimpers not going unnoticed, she held the girl's hands warmly in hers.
"How are you doing, Eri-chan?" She asked gently, using her quirk ever so slightly to ease down the heavy emotions the girl must be feeling.
Instead of an answer, she received a hug and a sniffle, a bundle of incomprehensible slurs leaving the younger girl's trembling lips.
Sachiko wrapped her hands around the girl's torso and lifted her up. She looked at Mirio, gesturing with her head at Eri's room, silently telling the blond that she will take the girl to have a well-needed conversation.
Yet before leaving the room, she figured it would be best to ask the girl first.
"Would you want us to talk alone? Or do you want Togata-kun with you?"
Eri wiped her wet eyes with her sleeve as she turned to look at the teen. She took a moment to look between Hitoshi and Mirio, as if contemplating something.
She tugged Sachiko's sleeve to indicate that she wanted to get down, and once she was on her feet, she crept cautiously closer to Hitoshi.
Clutching his sleeve, she dragged the startled boy closer to the sofa that Mirio sat on.
"Onii-san should make friends too!" She demanded and left the two teens dumbfounded at the unexpected change in manners. They both could hear Sachiko's muffled chuckles before Eri grabbed her hand and led her willingly to her own room that she had proudly decorated with colorful drawings.
"Um..?" Hitoshi couldn't feel any more awkward than he was, as he sat down beside his senior in defeat.
"What the hell is going on. What is this place?" He asked bluntly in confusion.
Mirio sighed, a small amused tone could easily be detected. He didn't know what to say, or what he could even say.
"I don't think I'm allowed to tell you much."
Shinsou only hummed, seeming to understand the confidentiality of the situation.
"Is it related to Aizawa-sensei's recent disappearance and injuries?" That was simply the most logical conclusion.
"Yeah, you could say that." Mirio didn't elaborate, being wary not to give too much information. Not because he didn't trust his kouhai, but because he didn't want to implicate or endanger the purple haired teen as well.
A long silence dragged out before any of them said anything.
"So, how should we exactly get started on being friends?" Shinsou asked with a straight face, being completely serious.
Mirio couldn't contain his booming laughter as he all but burst out.
"Yeah, we had to work on that too," he said, brushing a tear out of the corner of his eye in amusement.
*****
"Who's that?"
Katsuki was greeted by the usual unrecognizing eyes, that seemingly looked right through him as if he didn't exist.
His mother's weak form was noticeably becoming weaker and weaker with each passing day. He hated how he couldn't help her in any way, let alone have a proper conversation with her.
A nurse flashed a sympathetic smile his way as she helped his mother with her coat. He ignored both the question and the infuriating pity as he took a step forward, gritting his teeth in despair.
"It's Katsuki. Your son wh-" The nurse cut herself off, realization hitting immediately.
Shit! She had messed up. That was the trigger-...
"No! I mean- Mitsuki-san! I meant-" she tried, but was evidently too late.
"Shut up!" Mitsuki began panting harshly. Her vision glazing over and her ears ringing, drowning out all voices.
All voices but one.
"I don't have a son!" She thrashed around in her sheets, feeling firm hands trying to hold her in place.
A black disfigured image flashed across her mind, which only made her screams louder and more intense.
Yet she could only hear one voice. One, demonic voice, taking over her reality.
"Oh ho~, we have a witness." The man didn't notice the trembling Katsuki at the doorframe as he addressed her only. Mitsuki, despite her tremendous shock, realized that.
She stepped to the side shakily, blocking the man's view of the little boy.
"Hmm, let me guess, you must be her friend," he pointed at the charred remains of what used to be her outmost dearest friend.
Mitsuki couldn't help but quiver and jolt in disgust and terror. She could not comprehend that her angelic friend was that chunk of meet, barley recognizable as a human being.
"Wait, do you have someone with you?"
Her whole body stiffened and her breathing hitched. Has he seen Katsuki? No it's not possible, she is for sure blocking the view.
He must be playing mind games on her, she came to realize despite her disturbed state of mind.
"N-no," she could barley force the words to come out of her throat, trying not to shake too much to seem as believable as possible.
"Hmm? You sure? Cause I think you are Bakugou Mitsuki, isn't that true? And you have a husband..." She felt her heart dropping.
"...and a son," he smirked as his eyes glowed with indefinable viciousness.
"No!" She shrieked, clawing at her skull.
"Don't lie." The devious man was enjoying every moment of her terror. "We don't want either of you to end up like your precious friend right there, now, do we?" He smirked and used a thumb to point at the lifeless corpse behind him.
Mitsuki's eyes darted fretfully from corner to corner, hunching over and doubling on herself, emptying her stomach on the bloody ground as unimaginable hysteria started taking over.
"I don't have a son! I don't have a son!" Her voice hitched as the burning acid stuck in her throat, refusing to neither get pushed down nor out through her mouth. She broke down in despair.
She had to save Katsuki! At least Katsuki!
She went into hysterical panic, denying over and over again. Her face was full of scratches at that point and blood started dripping slowly to the ground.
Katsuki was still trembling in the background, too young to understand anything, just staring wide-eyed at the disgusting black thing beside the man, which made him sick to his stomach. His senses were blurry and he didn't seem to comprehend what he was seeing or hearing.
"I don't have a son, I do-"
"-n't have a son! I DON'T HAVE A SON!!" Mitsuki screamed over and over again, shaking her head repeatdly in denial and squeezing her eyes shut, still trapped in that moment, at that time, never able to escape that horror.
A very pained Katsuki stood still, his face scrunched up in agony and his tight fists by his sides drowning blood from his palms. He didn't want to leave, but knew that this was the only reaction he would ever get from the broken woman.
Why did she suddenly forget him? What the hell happened to her?
Why the hell can't he remember that day?!