Chapter Text
No amount of sleep was going to make today bearable. As his alarm went off he fought the urge to throw his phone out the window and pretend that the last 30 or so hours never happened. After a few minutes of staring at the ceiling and reminding himself that he was an adult, he gently slapped Hizashi awake. He could imagine that his expression upon waking didn’t look all that dissimilar to the one his husband was currently sporting. This was… an unspeakably shit situation. They had until 2 pm to get the guest room in a livable enough configuration for the social worker to make Midoriya’s placement a little more permanent than a few nights. That meant getting whatever personal possessions he may or may not have wherever it was that he had set up camp.
The thought of the dark, mildewy staircase that he had found Ivy in last year was never far from his memory and now it was back in the forefront of his mind with awful clarity. He hoped to god that the kid had found somewhere nicer than that. Though, even if he had found somewhere nicer, it was almost certainly still in an abandoned warehouse which could only get so habitable. It felt like someone was squeezing his heart in a vice grip and he knew it was only going to get worse once he saw how the kid had been living for years.
Pushing the thoughts from his mind as best he could, he made sure Zashi was getting up before heading to the bathroom to brush his teeth and fix his bedhead. His hair needed a wash, but that could wait for tonight. Zashi was walking into the bathroom as Shota was walking out and they nearly body-checked each other.
“Ah, sorry Sho! Get dressed, I’ll get started on breakfast while you go talk to Midoriya. Think he’d be alright with an omelet? All the fixin’s?”
“Yeah, ‘s probably fine. He’ll eat anything. I don’t know his preferences, he hasn’t complained about anything before,” he answered.
Hizashi pursed his lips at that and nodded before slipping past him and into the bathroom.
He pondered his minimal closet for a moment before deciding on some joggers and a crewneck. It was similar enough to what Midoriya normally saw him in, but not as threatening as being suited up. Hopefully, it would put him at ease, even just a little bit. Zashi had gotten dressed while he was brushing his teeth and when he walked out of the closet he could see them standing in front of the mirror tying their hair up in a messy bun with their toothbrush hanging out of their mouth. The utterly mundane sight elicited a pleasantly warm feeling in his chest; he was glad he wasn’t doing this alone.
With a deep breath, he headed over to the guest room.
When Shota knocked and opened the door he was glad to find that the kid was not balled up in the corner this time, however, he was balled up and sitting with his back against the ‘headboard’ of the pullout couch. The bed had either not been slept in or it had been immaculately remade and he was leaning toward the latter because the kid was dead on his feet last night; there’s no way he didn’t sleep. Thankfully, he looked a lot less scared than he had yesterday morning, but that wasn’t exactly a high bar to pass.
“Hey, kid,” he greeted.
Midoriya didn’t move, he just looked up at him with his eyes. He looked beyond exhausted. The bags under his eyes were bordering on looking like bruises, but he still sat there, tense as ever. The amount of adrenaline and cortisol pumping through his system had to be taking a toll on his body and Shota wished he would just calm down . He was safe now, he had to know that, right?
“Did you sleep?” he asked.
He nodded.
“How much?” he asked to clarify since the kid looked just as tired, if not more tired, than last he saw him.
‘Few hours,’ he signed back.
Still not talking. That… wasn’t ideal. At least he was coherent enough to reply.
“Well, that’s better than nothing,” Shota replied with a sad smile, “We’ve got a few things to do today, we’re gonna need to go out. Why don’t you get ready? Zashi’s making breakfast, it’ll probably be done by the time you finish.”
He didn’t miss the way the kid’s grip on his own shins tightened the more Shota talked. Today was going to be difficult, but 24 hours could only last 24 hours. Things would get better with time and nothing was going to impede the progress of the clock ticking down.
Seemingly against his own will, Midoriya nodded, and with that, Shota took his leave.
Hizashi, blessedly, had a cup of coffee waiting for him when he got back to the kitchen. He took a swig of it and shot them a grateful look, which they returned with a smile.
“Anything I can help with?” he asked as he put the mug back down on the counter.
“Yeah, you could put the kettle to boil. Make sure there’s enough for at least two cups, unless you want one too, then make it three,” Hizashi replied as he busied himself at the stovetop
He did as requested and as he clicked the pot on he heard the office door open and the bathroom door shut quietly. He was up, that was good.
“How’d it go?” Hizashi asked, following his gaze up toward the bathroom door.
“He’s still not talking, but he signed. He only slept a few hours and he looks exhausted. Overall, he’s better than he was last night. Not that that says much,” he replied quietly to make sure he couldn’t be overheard.
“That’s good, that’s progress,” they insisted.
“Yeah,” he agreed with a tired sigh.
***
As Izuku scrubbed at his face in the mirror he did his best to take in deep breaths. It was just breakfast, he’d had dinner at the Shinso’s before, it would be like that. Except Shinso was there, not some other adult, and the Shinso’s didn’t know he was a criminal, and they weren’t sticking their neck out to protect him from facing the legal consequences he deserved to face– no. No, no, no, that wasn’t helping. It was just breakfast. Just breakfast, just breakfast, just breakfast. He could do this. Everything was fine.
He could sit at a table with his… um… teachers(?) and have awkward small talk or… something… Well, he couldn’t really talk very well right now. No, he was fine, he could talk, he could scrape up the words that felt like they were plastered to his vocal chords, he could do it, he’d done it before.
He did his best to not look at himself in the mirror as he wiped up any water he spilled on the sink while washing his face, fluffed the towel up, and hung it back up where it had been.
He needed to go out there now.
He didn’t want to go out there.
The longer he stood there the more paralyzed he became. They made food for him and he was going to have to eat it even though he felt nauseous and then he was going to dirty up their dishes and he didn’t know where all the dishes went, he would be too slow trying to put them back if they even let him wash them– oh god, they were probably going to insist on washing them like Shinso-san did. They made all this food for him and he was going to eat it and then he was going to make them do more work cleaning everything up and GOD he didn’t ask for any of this– he didn’t want any of this, he could do it himself. He didn’t need help, he didn’t want help!
His hands were shaking again– if they ever stopped to begin with– and he did his best to breathe.
Just breakfast.
It was just breakfast.
Before he could spiral any more than he already had, he opened the door. Mic and Eraser were moving around each other in the kitchen wordlessly and Eraser looked up at him as the door opened. He was standing at the counter chopping up some veggies that Izuku couldn’t see from this distance.
“Got ready faster than I thought, we’re almost done. You wanna steep this tea for me?” he asked casually.
“I told you to make the tea, Sho,” Mic chastised playfully without turning away from his task at the stovetop.
“Got distracted chopping up the veggies which you forgot to do, so blame yourself,” Eraser quipped back, setting two mugs on the counter across from him so that Izuku could reach them without having to navigate the already occupied kitchen.
“I forgot you like peppers in yours, sue me. You’re getting a burnt one now,” Mic shot back.
Eraser just rolled his eyes.
This was… this was okay. This was– well he wouldn’t say this was nice, his heart was still trying valiantly to beat straight out of his chest, but their banter made it a little more bearable. Having something to do helped too.
“I just turned the kettle back on, it should be ready any second now,” Eraser said, addressing Izuku again, “You want peppers in yours? He’s making omelets. They’re just bell peppers, they’re not spicy.”
“Oh, um, w-w-whatever is f-fine,” he forced the words out.
Eraser just nodded and passed the kettle over as it clicked off.
His hands were shaking but he didn’t spill anything as he poured the water into the mugs and unwrapped the tea bags. He stuck the bags into the water and glanced at the clock to check the time before realizing he had no idea how long tea was supposed to steep for. Was it a minute? A couple minutes? Should he just leave them in there? He fiddled with the packaging which he had foolishly ripped, doing his best to line the text up and read the instructions. One to two minutes, okay, one to two minutes. Was this the kind of tea people put other stuff in like sugar or something? Was he supposed to do that too? There was nothing set out and he wouldn’t even have the first idea how much sugar, if any, either of them would want so he just kept his mouth shut.
“You want to set those cups on the table? I usually sit on the end there and Zashi sits in the one to the right,” Eraser said, gesturing to the far end of the table that faced the rest of the room.
He placed the mugs where instructed and glanced back at the clock, a few more seconds.
“Tea’s for you, kid. I got my coffee,” Eraser corrected, pointing to the cup that Izuku had placed in his spot.
Oh… um… where was he supposed to sit then? He wanted to sit further away, honestly, he’d rather sit in the office like he had last night, but that was rude, so he put the mug in the spot opposite from Mic’s and closest to the front door without seeming strangely far from the other two.
His hesitance in choosing distracted him from the tea steeping and he almost knocked his cup over in his haste to take the teabag out of Mic’s. He took it out and realized that he had nowhere to put it and it was dripping. He was too caught up in his predicament to notice Eraser walking over with a plate and a mug. His sudden presence startled him and he jumped, causing him to drop the teabag, the string, and the tab back into the mug.
***
When he walked over the kid nearly jumped out of his skin. He was leaning across the table enough that the burn scar that Chiyo had mentioned was peaking out on his exposed midriff and Shota did his best to ignore that. He’d made him drop the tea bag into Zashi’s cup and now the kid was frozen in place looking back and forth between the cup and Shota like he was about to walk over there and break the plate over his head.
“‘s alright, kid. I got it,” he tried to soothe as he fished the bag out of the mug and set it on the napkin he was holding.
Midoriya jerked back as Shota’s hand approached the mug and he did his best to ignore that too. He set Zashi’s plate down and gestured for the kid to add his tea bag to the one on the napkin in his hand. He did as requested, but he didn’t seem to be able to hold eye contact for longer than a split second.
Today was… gonna be a long day.
“You can sit if you want. Zashi’s got the last one on the pan right now,” he said, forcing his tone to remain nonchalant.
He walked back to the kitchen without waiting for a response because he knew that he wouldn’t want to be crowded right now; he needed to grab cutlery and throw out the tea bags anyway. Hizashi shot him a questioning look when he walked back around the counter and he shot back a look that said ‘not now’. He took his time gathering the cutlery and, thankfully, Midoriya had seated himself by the time he got back, he didn’t know what he was going to do if he was still frozen where he had been.
Hizashi walked in with a plate for Midoriya and himself shortly after he’d set the cutlery out and the kid only tensed up more when they all sat down.
“T-thank y-you,” he stuttered out, looking down and wringing his hands in his lap.
“No problem, Kiddo,” Hizashi replied with a smile.
He didn’t even go to pick up his fork until he and Zashi had already started eating and, not for the first time, Shota wondered what his home life had been like before his parents skipped town. Why did he seem so prepared to be hit? The thought made him sick so he did his best to push it from his mind. The silence was becoming a bit awkward, but he didn’t want to stress him out anymore than they already had before he got a suitable amount of food in him, so he just stewed in the quiet. Once Midoriya had eaten about three-quarters of his food, Shota spoke up.
“We’re going to have to get your stuff today. The social worker is going to be over at 2 pm and if you don’t even have a change of clothes, she’s not going to deem us fit to care for you. We might have to do some shopping too, but that can probably wait.”
As was to be expected, the kid tensed up and froze. God, if he never saw him do that again, it would be too soon.
“It’d be better to do it sooner rather than later, will you be ready to go after breakfast?” he asked, trying not to call attention to his reaction because, more likely than not, addressing it was only going to make it worse.
“Y-yeah– I– um, y-yes. T-that’s f-f-fine,” he responded, his stutter worse than Shota had ever heard it.
He stuffed another bite of his omelet into his mouth, presumably so he wouldn’t be expected to speak again, and Shota let him be.
***
Izuku had never felt more awkward than he did sitting in the passenger seat of Eraser’s car. He’d been giving him directions to the warehouse district, but it didn’t seem like Eraser really needed them. He responded to each prompt with a vague grunt of acknowledgment, never looking around to see what turn Izuku had meant, like he was already headed that way. It made sense, he probably knew he lived in the warehouse district, just not which specific building. Should he just shut up? They were almost in the warehouse district at this point, he was going to need directions soon enough so he just kept prompting him anyway.
They were going straight at a stop sign when a woman who had been sitting on some porch steps smoking a cigarette shot up and ran straight in front of the car.
Oh.
Oh shit.
That was Iwai.
Fuck.
He did not text her like she had asked, there was too much going on and he had forgotten.
She was yelling and gesturing wildly. Her words were muted but Izuku’s pretty sure he caught the words ‘Eraser you piece of shit, get out of that goddamn car,’ before she looked over to Izuku and went silent and wide-eyed.
“Goddamnit,” Eraser muttered with a sigh as he rolled down his window just enough to speak through it.
Iwai walked over to the driver’s side of the car with a murderous look in her eye.
“Roll that goddamn window down or I’m gonna break it. What the fuck is going on? Is that–”
“Iwai!” Eraser, thankfully, cut her off.
The streets weren’t busy but they weren’t empty, this was not a conversation to have at the top of one’s lungs outside.
“Just get in,” Eraser said as he pointedly looked around to the few people watching this scene unfold.
Iwai looked up too and Eraser waited until her anger settled slightly to resignation before he unlocked the doors.
“You got 60 seconds to explain ‘fore I claw your throat out,” she said as she sat down in the back seat and slammed the door behind her, “Who the fuck is this?” she asked, gesturing toward Izuku her hand adorned with a threateningly long and well maintained manicure.
He had been frozen since she had stepped out in front of Eraser’s car and that question did not help his predicament.
“This is a very delicate situation, you can’t–”
“I do what I damn well please. Kid? Who’re you?” she asked again.
Izuku could feel himself shaking as he glanced between Eraser and Iwai. He couldn’t force himself to speak, and even if he could, he had no clue what to say.
“Iwai. Please, just…” Eraser trailed off, seemingly also having no idea what to say.
“…Shortstack?” Iwai asked again, her voice much quieter than it had been.
Neither of them said a word and that seemed to be enough of a response for her.
“Eraser what the fuck? They look 12. What the hell is going on here?” she started again.
“I can’t tell you anything. I’m taking care of the situation. He’s going through enough as it is, he doesn't need any more prodding.”
“Wait, aren’t you that kid from the sports festival? You’re like what, 15?” she mused aloud, ignoring Eraser entirely, “SO YOU WERE 12?! WHAT–”
“IWAI,” Eraser interrupted her harshly.
Izuku flinched despite himself. He’d never heard Eraser yell unless he needed to be heard over a distance. He didn’t like it. He tried to remind his panicked brain that he wasn’t yelling at him, he was yelling at Iwai, and she was fine, and he was fine, and everything was fine, but the memo didn’t make it from his rational side to his emotional side. Adults were always yelling at him, they never yelled at the other kids even if it was their fault. It was hardly ever his fault, but they always blamed him– but it’s not like things would have gone wrong if he wasn’t there to begin with. All the problems stemmed from him, so they may as well shout at the source of the issue.
He distantly recognized that they were still speaking and now the car was moving and he did his best to listen, but they had gone quiet by the time he had started trying to actually make sense of the noises they were making. Eraser had pulled the car over properly and now he was getting out and so was Iwai.
“I’ll be back in a second, you alright?” he asked before he left.
He shakily nodded his head. Eraser didn’t look very convinced, but he shut the door anyway. He watched as the two of them walked over to a nearby alley and he waited. Why did everything have to be such a goddamned mess? Why did he have to make everything such a goddamned mess?
***
“Explain,” Iwai demanded quietly when they made their way to the relative privacy of the alleyway.
“Iwai, you don’t know the half of–”
“Then fucking tell me!” Iwai interrupted him for what felt like the 20th time in the last minute and a half.
He was getting fed up. He understood the concern, he understood it far too well, but she was causing a scene and that was the last thing Midoriya needed right now.
“Quit interrupting me. You do not have the right to his personal information. He is safe and you will keep anything you know to yourself,” he shot back, not bothering to try to appear less intimidating like he usually did with scared civilians.
“What right do you got getting testy with me? That kid’s scared shitless of you,” she accused.
“He’s scared shitless of everything and the more of a scene you make the more afraid he’s going to be. You need to calm down,” he shot back.
“Calm down? Calm down?! How the fuck can you expect me to calm down, you’ve been running around with a fucking tween letting them risk their life every night–”
“I know what I’ve done, I don’t need a reminder,” he interrupted quietly through gritted teeth.
“It sure seems like you do, Mr. Nonchalant. You just take him home like a fuckin stray and pretend like none of this ever happened? We aren’t gonna forget, how the fuck are you expecting to explain this to the rest of the district, huh?”
His fragile composure was failing him as he just stared back at her expectant and judgemental gaze. He felt his eye twitch and Iwai’s indignant expression faltered for a moment. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Matching her anger wasn’t going to help anyone right now.
“I am doing the best that I can,” he finally replied, sounding far more earnest and vulnerable than he had meant to.
She didn’t have anything to say to that.
Her shoulders dropped and her gaze fell with it. She looked back in the direction of the car before turning back to her feet. Her eyes were darting back and forth between nothing and Shota knew that she was just trying to make sense of it all. Tsukauchi had the same look on his face when he’d told him yesterday. She took a few unsteady steps backward and sat down on an overturned crate before burying her face in her hands.
The car was obscured from this angle so Shota had no means of checking on Midoriya and he didn’t like that, but he also didn’t want to leave Iwai like this. He walked toward the opening of the alley to check on him, but Iwai’s head popped up before he got the chance.
“Wait–”
He turned back around. She was sitting there in sweats with her hair up in a messy bun and no makeup to dramatize the tears running down her cheeks. He hadn’t recognized her when she had first run out; he wouldn’t have risked driving past her in the first place if he had. Seeing her like this only made it worse, she was so out of her element, she was disheveled and tears were falling unbidden from her eyes. He knew she had only been so short with him because of her own worry. He was doing his best not to hold it against her but seeing her now, any anger he had melted away.
“I just want to check on him, I’m not going anywhere,” he assuaged before returning to his task.
Midoriya was still sat in the car but he was chewing at his nails and, from the shake of his shoulders, he assumed he was also bouncing his leg. He glanced up at Shota so he held up one finger, indicating that he’d be back in a minute before turning back to Iwai.
“They okay?” Iwai asked when he turned back around.
“He’s fine– or as fine as he can be,” he answered.
Iwai looked up at him, but didn’t hold his gaze for more than a second. Her eyes were still flicking around from object to object not really focusing on anything in particular. He waited like she had asked him to until she finally spoke up.
“You’re gonna take care of ‘im, right?” she asked, her tone colored heavily with guilt.
“Yes, Iwai. He’s got a fleet of teachers at UA who will die before they let anything happen to him, All Might included,” he replied, hoping that would be enough to set her at ease.
She let out a watery laugh at that.
“Course he’d have number one wrapped ‘round his finger,” she scoffed.
She didn’t know how accurate that statement was, hell, Shota didn’t even know how accurate that statement was. All Might was on his endless list of concerns about the kid, but he wasn’t anywhere near the top, so his curiosity would have to wait for now.
“As far as I know there are only five people who know about this, the two of us included. You can’t tell anyone, his future is on the line–”
“I know, I know…” she trailed off, dismissing him with a wave, eyes still not focused.
“Iwai, swear to me,” he insisted.
“Yeah, I swear. Add me to your fleet of teachers. I won’t speak a word of this,” she responded with conviction, properly meeting his eyes as she spoke.
“Thank you,” he replied simply.
He stood there a moment longer as Iwai appeared to be trying to pick up her stray bits of sanity. God, did he know that feeling. A few seconds later she looked back up to him with a smirk.
“So, Eraser, you a daddy now?” she asked, looking awfully pleased with herself.
Shota’s stomach dropped to his feet. For fuck’s sake, he didn’t need to have another crisis foisted upon him. He must have made a face because she was now cackling at him as he scrubbed his tired hands over his tired face. He was not a dad, no, he was not Midoriya’s father. He was his caretaker, he had already been his caretaker, it was just a little more personal now.
“You two are makin’ me pick up my bad habits,” Iwai interrupted his thoughts as she pulled another cigarette out of her pocket and lit it, “You look like you could use one too,” she said as she grabbed another and held it out for him.
“I’m not trying to get murdered when I get home, thanks,” he replied lazily.
“You got a honey at home? Too bad, I was hopin’ the kid could use a mom,” she said with a smirk, blowing smoke out of her mouth as she did.
He just rolled his eyes, not bothering to correct her.
She took another drag and blew it out before turning her focus back to him.
“Go to him. Kept ‘im waiting long enough,” she said nodding her head in the direction of the car.
He eyed her critically for a moment before nodding and taking his leave. He could feel her gaze tracking him as he walked away, but she didn’t follow.
That certainly wasn’t ideal, but it could have gone much worse. Of all the uptowners to recognize them, she was definitely the lesser of all evils.