Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There’s something off with All Might. He knows it as surely as he knows the sky is blue and the Earth is round.

Sir has tried asking him what the problem is, but every time his concerns are deflected with the same bright smile, and an airy “I’m fine!”

Normally, he wouldn’t pay it any mind - All Might is an adult after all, and can usually take care of himself. If he had wanted Sir’s help, he would have asked for it. But it’s been over a week, and All Might doesn’t seem to have gotten any better in that time.

Ever since that fateful fight with All for One - or rather…no, maybe a few days before that? He’d shown up to work one day, looking disoriented, almost lost, and when he’d laid eyes on Sir, a small, choked little sob had escaped him, and he’d swept his sidekick into a crushing hug.

He’d had multiple close calls with his quirk that day, constantly using either too much or too little force - almost as if he had forgotten just how strong he was.

His control over One for All had improved rapidly over the course of the day, but that lost, disoriented look didn’t leave him.

Even now, he’ll sometimes look down to his side, as if to speak to someone much shorter than him, but then he’ll catch himself when he sees no one there, and for a split second, his face will fall into an expression of utter devastation. Those moments are always hardest for Sir, because he never knows what to do to make the hurt go away.

He spends hours upon hours trying to think of ways to help bring All Might out of his slump, but in the end the answer to all his questions comes to him in the form of a nine-year-old kid with messy green curls and freckles dotting his cheeks.

They’ve just taken down yet another villain, and while All Might stays behind to talk to the press, Sir decides to return to their agency to warm up their lunch.

Only, as soon as he walks into the lobby of their agency, the first thing that catches his eye is the kid standing on his tip-toes to look over the front desk, arguing with the poor, hassled-looking secretary.

“-just need to see him once! I promise I won’t be a nuisance!” the child is whining, and there’s something like real desperation in his voice, making Sir draw up short.

The child turns to look back then, perhaps having heard the door open and close, and his brilliant green eyes open wide in a shocked expression that sends a shiver of familiarity creeping up Sir’s spine - it’s the same expression All Might had turned on him that day over a week ago.

“Sir!” the child gasps, taking a halting step forward, arms reaching out as if to embrace. But then something seems to click in his mind and he cringes back, drawing his arms back tightly around himself.

There are tears shining in his eyes and his lower lip is trembling, and Sir can’t help but think that he is so completely out of his depth right now. All Might is the one that usually deals with crying children.

“And just what are you doing here, young man?” asks Sir, trying to soften his usual glare into something a little more child-friendly.

The child fidgets, casting his gaze to the floor. “I-I need to see All Might for something important,” he murmurs, and it’s basically exactly what Sir had expected.

“He’ll be returning in a few minutes,” Sir replies, and the child’s eyes fly up to meet his gaze, a small noise of delight escaping from him.

He’s kind of absolutely adorable, and Sir fully expects All Might to be completely head over heels for the child immediately upon meeting him - All Might had always had a weak spot for children, and perhaps if he hadn’t been the number one hero, perhaps if his position as the Symbol of Peace hadn’t put a giant target on his back, he would have had a beautiful young wife and several children by now.

But life isn’t fair, and Sir knows that All Might will probably live out the rest of his days as a bachelor.

The child opens his mouth, perhaps to ask a question, but immediately snaps it shut as Sir hears the automatic doors swish open and feels the looming presence of his partner behind him.

The child’s eyes widen; the tears are back in full force, along with the tremble in his lip. He takes a stuttering step forward, and he looks to be maybe a second away from breaking down.

He opens his mouth to say something, but All Might ends up beating him to it.

“Midoriya-shounen,” he gasps, and Sir whips his head around, shock spreading through him as he sees the expression on his partner’s face - something of a mix between fragile hope and complete, unconditional adoration.

That seems to be the last straw, as the child’s face crumples and a sob tears out of his throat.

He takes one step forward, then another, before dashing forward into All Might’s waiting embrace. The hero sweeps him up in gentle arms, one giant hand coming up to cradle the child’s head as he sobs into All Might’s neck, small hands clutching tightly at the fabric of his shirt.

“All M-Miiiight,” the child hiccups, “Y-you’re mine, right? You’re my All Might? You remember me? I-I-I’m not alone?”

“Of course I remember you, my boy,” All Might responds, his voice hitching with emotion. He continues to reassure the child in his arms in a soothing voice too quiet for Sir to make out his words.

“W-what about All for One?” the child whispers, voice fearful, and Sir wonders for a moment if he had heard correctly, because why on Earth would this child know anything about him? “Y-you fought him already, right? D-did he hurt you? I-is he-?”

“He’s gone,” All Might answers, fingers carding through messy green curls. “For good this time. I made sure of it. Everything is going to be okay.”

“B-but what about Shigaraki? A-and Mirio-senpai? And-?”

“They’re all going to be okay, my son. You and I, we’re going to make sure of it. You hear me?”

The child responds, but Sir doesn’t hear a word of what he says.

Son.

The word clangs around his head, the implications of it deafening. There are so many things Sir wants to ask, so many things he needs to know. But decides to keep quiet for the moment, allowing the father and son to continue their reunion in peace.

There will be time for questions later.

Chapter Text

“Izuku!”

The frantic voice belongs to a short, plump woman who’s just come running into the agency, her long green hair disheveled, her eyes wide with worry.

It’s not hard to figure out that she’s the child’s (Izuku’s?) mother, and the moment she sees her son in All Might’s arms, she seems to calm down greatly.

All Might has turned to stare at her, and is now frozen with indecision, the child still in his arms.

The woman takes a moment to catalog everything she’s seeing, and finally, she seems to come to a conclusion.

“All Might…so you remember everything too?”

And All Might, normally so good at controlling his expression, actually looks surprised at that.

“You too…?” he asks the woman.

She chuckles quietly in response. “Not at all,” she says, looking almost regretful. “But I noticed Izuku start acting strangely about a week ago, and managed to convince him to tell me everything. I have to say, I was a little skeptical at first, but it was the only explanation that made sense.”

All Might laughs in response. “Well, I suppose I should have guessed. Izuku here is good at a great many things, but acting has never been one of them.”

His expression is equal parts amused and proud as he looks down at the nine-year-old still in his arms, but that doesn’t stop the squawk of outrage from his son(?) at the jibe.

“I’ll have you know I’m a perfectly good actor!” the child declares in mock outrage, face settling into an adorable pout. “I just didn’t want to lie to mom.”

“But of course,” All Might replies indulgently, leaning in to press a quick kiss to the child’s forehead, effectively erasing the displeasure from his face.

“As heartwarming as this all is,” Sir finally interrupts, drawing everyone’s eyes to him. “I believe we should probably head up to your office, All Might, before discussing anything further, lest anyone overhear what I am sure is going to be a very interesting conversation.”

He stares straight at his partner as he says this, an eyebrow raised. His expression is challenging, as if daring All Might to try and exclude him from the conversation ahead.

All Might doesn’t even miss a beat as he smiles brightly back at Sir, replying, “Of course, of course! Come, let us go on upstairs, and we can discuss this over lunch.”

Izuku nods eagerly, bouncing excitedly in All Might’s arms. And sure he’s nine, and more than capable of walking by himself, but he seems quite content to stay as close to All Might as possible.

His mother, however, is staring at Sir a little guardedly, unsure if he can be trusted with what is obviously a closely guarded secret. However, since her son and husband(?) seem to trust Sir, she eventually gives in and follows them to the elevator.

All Might and Sir’s agency isn’t a particularly big one - with only one sidekick and a couple of management employees, two floors and a couple of office rooms are more than enough for them all to make do.

They pass a couple of people on their way to All Might’s office, earning shocked stares from everyone that sees them.

Izuku smiles and chirps out greetings to all of them, waving enthusiastically. He gets only 2 responses, but that doesn’t seem to deter him.

Sir, for one, is glad that All Might’s office is soundproof - their employees are usually pretty good about respecting boundaries, but he just knows that they’re all going to be pressed up against the doors, trying to hear the conversation going on inside.

It takes them another ten minutes or so to warm up their food and get settled around All Might’s desk, but finally the conversation begins and the first thing All Might says is- “Izuku and I are from the future.”

Sir blinks a few times at the suddenness, but ends up taking the revelation with minimal confusion and skepticism. Having a quirk like foresight means that talk of the future isn’t too out of the ordinary for Sir, and more than that, he knows that All Might isn’t the kind to lie - ergo, he must be telling the truth.

“I…see,” he says finally, once he’s able to gather his thoughts once more. “Continue.”

Working seamlessly, All Might and Izuku take turns telling him about the gruesome future they had lived - about All for One injuring All Might so badly in their fight that he lost his lung and stomach, about Izuku inheriting One for All, about the League of Villains attacking USJ, about the Stain incident and the Kamino Ward tragedy and the Eight Precepts and on and on and on until Sir thinks hes going to throw up. The knowledge of his own death is nothing in the light of all the things the sweet little child in front of him has gone through.

Finally, All Might falls silent, and Sir knows that they’re nearing the end of the tale.

Whatever brought these two into the past seems to be centered on little Izuku, the future Symbol of Peace.

“I think it’s a part of One for All,” he says quietly. “Maybe it was the quirk of one of the previous users that merged with One for All and was passed down without any of us knowing about it.”

He looks up at Sir, and his eyes are haunted, glassy with unshed tears.

“I saw them die,” he says, and his voice hitches. “We were able to defeat the League of Villains, but everyone died. My classmates” - a sob escapes him, and his voice gets quieter - “my teachers” - tears drip down his cheeks and onto the clenched fists in his lap - “my parents” - All Might and the child’s mother both lean over to comfort him, wrapping him in a warm embrace.

He takes a moment to compose himself.

“I was all by myself, and I didn’t want to be. What’s the point of being a hero if you can’t save anyone? And maybe there are certain circumstances needed for it to happen, maybe your world needs to be ending, maybe there needs to be no way to fix it, maybe you need to want to change things so badly that you’ll go mad if you can’t, but I passed out from exhaustion, or maybe blood loss, and the next time I woke up, I was in my bed at home, more than a decade in the past.”

There’s silence in the office for a long time after that, the food forgotten, All Might and Izuku’s mother still holding him.

Sir tries to think of something to say, but once again, Izuku beats him to it.

The child takes a deep breath, wipes the tears from his face, and looks up at Sir with red-rimmed eyes and a brilliant smile spreading slowly across his lips.

“But this time is going to be different!” he assures. “We’re going to make sure none of it happens and everything is going to be okay! Because I am here!”

Chapter Text

Sir smiles down at the 9-year-old.

“I’m sure,” he says, not unkindly.

Izuku returns the smile, all traces of the haunted warrior from before suddenly gone, replaced once again by the cheerful child that seems to be Izuku’s natural state of being.

There’s relative quiet in the room for a few minutes more as its occupants go back to eating their now cold food.

Sir is the one that breaks the silence this time, as a thought suddenly occurs to him.

“You said you were quirkless?” he asks Izuku, and receives a nod in return. “Then how are you so sure that the power that sent you to the past is a part of One for All? Could it not have been an undiscovered quirk that you were born with? After all, it doesn’t happen often, but it is not entirely unheard of for a child born with an extra joint in their pinky toe to still develop a quirk.”

Izuku is shaking his head even before Sir has finished speaking.

“I thought of that possibility too,” he says, “But then it wouldn’t explain All Might.”

Sir’s eyes narrow in confusion, but after a few moments of thought, he suddenly understands.

“The two of you are the only ones with memories of the future,” Sir says, and earns a nod from Izuku.

“If it had been a quirk that I was born with, then I would probably have been the only one with memories of the future, or at least if I was able to give the memories to other people, then All Might wouldn’t be the only one I could give them to. So the power is probably a part of One for All, and the reason All Might remembers is because he’s the current holder of it.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Sir replies. And then, because he’s been wondering it for a while now and figures now’s as good a time as any, he asks, “So, why are you still calling your father by his hero name?”

This seemingly innocent question gets interesting reactions out of all three of his companions, causing All Might to almost choke on his spit.

Sir raises an eyebrow, unimpressed, and waits until the three of them get themselves back under control.

Izuku laughs awkwardly, saying, “That’s…kinda of a complicated matter. All Might isn’t…technically…my dad…in this timeline…?”

“In this timeline?” Sir asks, confused.

Izuku looks at All Might beseechingly, and the hero answers for him, saying that, “I am not his biological father.”

Sir makes a noise of understanding, and things start to click into place in his mind.

“In the future timeline, Inko-san and I married in young Izuku’s third year of high school, and so I am not yet Izuku’s father…legally.”

“Yet?” asks Izuku’s mother (Inko?) quietly, looking somewhat surprised, and All Might’s face immediately turns beet red.

“Not that it has to happen at all!” he is quick to reassure, turning an awkward smile upon the woman that might once have been his wife. “I would be disappointed, of course, but I understand that you do not have any memories of the times we spent together…or would have spent together, I suppose. So please, I hope you would not feel under any obligation to become romantically involved with me. All I ask is that I still be allowed to continue seeing our…your son,” All Might continues, and he sounds so desperate near the end, his voice borderline miserable as he corrects himself.

Izuku looks back and forth between his parents with a distressed expression, and though Sir knows that mentally he is already an adult, in that second, he looks exactly like the nine-year-old whose body he inhabits. He leans in close to All Might, wrapping an arm tightly around the man as if worried he’ll be bodily pried away from him.

Inko just huffs out an exasperated little chuckle at his actions.

“Oh, you ridiculous men,” she teases, reaching out to push Izuku’s heavy black curls out of his eyes before turning an amused smile on the number one hero. “Even if I wasn’t married to you in an alternate timeline, do you honestly think I could, in good conscience, forbid Izuku from seeing you after he’s admired you all his life?”

All Might doesn’t seem to know how to respond to that.

“I may not have memories of this future, but after everything you've done for Izuku, you're as much his parent as I am, and I would never dream of taking that away from you. And besides,” she continues before he can come up with anything, “If I really did end up loving you in this future timeline as much as Izuku tells me I did…I don’t think I’d mind giving our relationship a chance.”

All Might, who'd begun to look a little weepy, perks up then, a blinding, if slightly watery, smile spreading across his face. “Really?” he asks, delighted. He looks so hopeful, so much happier than Sir remembers ever seeing him.

And even if everything still went to shit, even if they didn’t end up being able to save everyone, even if Sir did still end up dying…it would still be worth it, he thinks. Just to see that pure, genuine and uncomplicated joy on All Might’s face.

The next few months after that seem to positively fly by.

Little Izuku soon becomes a common sight around the agency, and though their other employees still don’t know who exactly he is, Sir knows that they’ve all become unbearably fond of the mischievous, friendly little child.

He and his mother live a bit far from the agency for Izuku to visit during the school week, but he always, inevitably, turns up at their doorstep on Friday evenings, his little overnight bag in tow. Like clockwork, he’ll come trotting through the lobby at exactly seven in the evening, greeting the secretary cheerily before dashing up the stairs to the second floor to deposit his bag in the lounge, and get started on his homework while he waits for Sir and his father to return from their patrol.

Sometimes, Inko will come along with her son on Fridays, but sometimes her work will require her to stay behind and make the trip on the next day. Either way, the two of them will spend their weekends in Tokyo, and when they inevitably have to return to Musutafu on Sunday evening, the two are seen off by the tearful employees at All Might’s agency, urging Izuku to come play again next week.

Izuku happily indulges the employees in their theatrics, always greeting each of them by name, with bright smiles and warm hugs.

This peaceful routine continues for approximately three months, until All Might casually drops a bomb on Sir one day over lunch.

“Inko and I have decided to get married.”

Chapter Text

It happens when Toshinori decides to make a surprise trip to Musutafu one day to visit Izuku and Inko.

Inko has just finished preparing dinner, and Izuku is helping her set the table, when there comes a knock on their door.

Izuku looks up at his mother, gaze questioning, but she shakes her head; they aren’t expecting any guests tonight.

Frowning thoughtfully, Izuku goes to open the door and the delighted “Dad!” a few seconds later causes Inko’s heart to stutter.

She quickly wipes her hands on a tea towel and rushes out of the kitchen to greet her…boyfriend? Lover? Future husband? Honestly, she’s not really sure what he is to her, but he’s currently hugging her son in greeting, laughing at whatever story Izuku has already started telling him at a mile a minute, and as he turns to grin at her, Inko feels her insides go all soft and mushy. All Might has always been an attractive man, but as she had gotten to know him over the past several weeks, she had begun to see just how amazing he really was.

“You should have told us you were coming to visit,” she playfully chides, striding forward to greet him with a quick peck on the cheek.

“That would entirely defeat the purpose of the surprise I’m afraid,” Toshinori replies with a chuckle, setting Izuku back on the ground and turning to close the door behind him.

He’s wearing a pair of jeans and a loose-fitting hoodie that, while doing nothing to hide his considerable bulk, does manage to make him look at least a little less conspicuous. Coupled with the plain black snapback he’s wearing to hide his trademark “bunny ears”, the outfit just barely manages to pass him as someone who is probably a hero, but not definitively All Might.

He takes his hoodie off, and as Izuku goes to put it away, Inko moves to serve some food for their unexpected guest.

The conversation flows easily as they eat, and although this thing between them is still so new, so fragile, it feels to Inko as if it’s how things were always meant to be.

It’s been two and a half months since that fateful reunion between Izuku and Toshinori, but between All Might’s busy work schedule and the fact that Izuku and Inko live in a completely different city, the only time they really have to spend together is on the weekends, and the occasional weeknight visits from Toshinori, like tonight. They talk on the phone often – Toshinori and Izuku are constantly texting back and forth when they can snatch a few moments of free time – but Inko finds herself craving more. She can see so easily how she might’ve fallen in love with this man in another lifetime, and she often finds herself wondering – if she cares for him so deeply after knowing him for only a few weeks, how must their relationship have been after several years of marriage?

(There’s a part of her that’s already looking forward to finding out.)

As their meal starts wrapping up an hour later and Toshinori stands to help clear the table, the conversation which had been warm and lighthearted until then starts to take a heavier turn.

“-it’s just so frustrating,” Izuku is saying, looking up at his father as if he has all the answers to the universe in his eyes. “I know I shouldn’t be so harsh, they’re only nine after all, but they’re just…so…childish. And don’t even get me started on the actual schoolwork!”

“What’s wrong with the schoolwork?” asks Toshinori with furrowed brows as he turns on the water to start washing the dishes, and Izuku naturally steps up to help with drying. “You were already quite intelligent in the other timeline. Elementary school should be a piece of cake for you, my boy.”

“That’s exactly the problem,” says Izuku. “It’s too easy. I already know everything, so I always finish my work so quickly and have nothing to do for the rest of the time. My teachers are starting to get suspicious too, because of how well I’m doing. I try to remember to add some mistakes into my homework and tests but…”

Izuku shrugs, looking helpless, and Toshinori hums in understanding.

Inko stands quietly in the doorway, wringing her hands uselessly in front of her. She’s seen her son getting more and more frustrated as the weeks had gone by – not just because of how bored he is with his schoolwork, but also with his classmates. They seem not to know what to do with this new Izuku, who’s so confident and so sure in himself, this Izuku who doesn’t put up with the bullying they’ve inflicted upon him throughout their childhood. Even Bakugou Katsuki has been keeping a wary distance recently, after his countless failed attempts to force Izuku back under his thumb.

She has spent countless sleepless nights trying to think of ways to help Izuku, but with no memories of the future her son has lived, she finds herself overwhelmed, and with no idea of what kind of help he even needs, let alone how to give it to him. Inko honestly doesn’t know what she would do if Toshinori hadn’t been around to give the support that Izuku so desperately needs, and after having only herself to rely on for so long, it’s a welcome relief to have a partner to make up for all the things she’s lacking.

Toshinori is quiet for a long while as they continue to wash the dishes, his expression considering.

“Well…what about homeschooling?” he asks finally.

“Homeschooling?” Izuku repeats.

“Well, there’s no point in you wasting the next several years in elementary school, being taught things you already know, right?” Toshinori asks. “Especially if you’re not even enjoying it. We’ll hire a tutor to come in a couple of times a week, just to make sure you don’t forget anything important, and get you started on some more challenging schoolwork, to keep you occupied until you reach high school age. I assume you will still be attending UA?”

“Of course!” Izuku quickly agrees. “I met all my best friends there! And Shouto-”

His expression falls at the last word, at the thought of the boy he had promised himself he would one day marry.

Izuku shakes his head, swallows the lump that had lodged itself in his throat. Maybe he doesn’t have his Shouto in this timeline, and maybe he would never have his Shouto again, but now he has a chance to make things right for the boy he loves with all his heart, to make sure he has the childhood he deserves. And isn’t that worth giving up the future they might have built together?

A giant hand comes to rest on his shoulder.

Izuku looks up.

“We’ll save them all,” Toshinori reminds him, giving him a reassuring smile, and Izuku finds an answering smile tugging at his lips as well.

“In the meantime, we’ll get you started on a light training regimen,” Toshinori continues. “To get your body in shape before you inherit One for All again. Properly this time.”

Izuku can’t help but snort at that, remembering the patchwork training he’d received in the ten short months he’d had to prepare before the UA entrance exam the first time around.

He opens his mouth to ask his father a question, but before he can get even a word out, Inko speaks up for the first time in several minutes.

“We should get married then,” she says, completely without preamble.

Izuku whips his head around, eyes wide with confusion as he tries to process what his mother had just suggested.

“W-whaaa-???” stammers Toshinori, his voice going comically high. He turns to stare at his…future wife? Lover? Fiancé?

Inko’s expression is set with determination, a fire burning in her eyes. It’s the first time in months that she’s seen her son this excited about anything, and the plan Toshinori is suggesting seems like a good one, but there are a few kinks that they do need to work out.

“We can’t keep our relationship a secret forever,” she tells him matter-of-factly. “People are going to find out eventually, and when they do, they’re going to see how ‘similar’ Izuku’s quirk is to your own, and they’re going to start asking questions. When that time comes, being married will make things easier for us. We can let people make their own assumptions about Izuku’s parentage. My ex-husband disappeared before he even knew Izuku existed after all, so there will be no problems there.”

 She looks Toshinori in the eye as she says this, and no matter how much he searches, he can’t find any hint of hesitation in her gaze.

“Are you sure?” Toshinori can’t help but ask as he takes her hand in his own. “I hope you don’t feel this is something you have to do. We could always find another way…”

But Inko shakes her head, her gaze softening as she smiles up at him.

“If we had the time, I would have liked to get to know you better before we made this decision,” Inko tells him, her voice soft. “I would have liked the time to get to know you properly and love you as much as you love me and my son. But we don’t have that kind of luxury. And that’s alright. I trust you. I trust that one day we really will have the kind of relationship Izuku tells me we did, in that future timeline of yours. So please, Toshinori-san. I may not have a ring with me right now…but will you marry me?”

Chapter Text

As he finishes explaining their reason for the rather hurried decision to get married, Toshinori watches his sidekick’s reaction anxiously. The number one hero though he might be, his sidekick’s opinion means a great deal to him.

Sir looks thoughtful for a while, mulling the situation over with the same gravity owed to a world-changing event.

“It’s not because you got her pregnant?” Sir finally asks, in the process startling Toshinori so badly he almost falls off his chair.

“A-ABSOLUTELY NOT!”  he yelps, burying his flaming red face in his hands to hide his embarrassment at the very thought. “I am not some hormonal teenager who-who-”

“Of course not,” interrupts Sir, as prim and composed as always. There’s a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, and his eyes are lit up in amusement. “You are an adult, and sex is a perfectly normal part of adult relationships.”

“SIR I need you to STOP-”

 “I’m just saying, it’s something you likely wouldn’t have had to worry about in the future timeline-”

“Sir-!”

“-and it’s easy to overlook these things but how old is she now? Thirty-six? You-”

“Sir I am begging you,” says Toshinori, ready to get on his knees and literally beg, if that’s what it takes.

Mercifully, Sir finally decides to take pity on him, chuckling and letting the subject drop.

Toshinori relaxes back into his seat, about to let out a sigh of relief when the situation swerves right back into uncomfortable territory.

“So have you told Gran Torino yet?” asks Sir nonchalantly, and Toshinori tenses up again.

“Gran Torino?” he asks.

Sir raises an eyebrow, looking suspicious at his partner’s reaction. “About the wedding?” he asks. “You are inviting him, aren’t you?”

“Of course, of course!” Toshinori is quick to agree. “I just…haven’t had the chance…to talk to him yet?”

“All Might. I know you’re still intimidated by him, but you know he only has your best interests at heart, and Midoriya has a good head on her shoulders. I’m sure he-”

“No I mean!” Toshinori awkwardly interrupts, averting his gaze so he isn’t even looking at Sir anymore, “I, uh, haven’t talked to him at all.”

“At all…?” asks Sir, realization slowly dawning on him. “All Might. It’s been three months.”

“I knooow,” Toshinori moans. “I’ve been meaning to, but every time I try, I get so nervous.”

“You’re the number one hero. He can’t hurt you,” Sir insists.

“Maybe not physically.”

“Is that what you’ve been worrying about?” Sir asks. “From what you and Izuku have told me of the future, the three of you were on amicable terms, were you not?”

“But that was that Gran Torino,” Toshinori replies, his shoulders slumping in resignation. “The only reason we even started talking again was because he saw Izuku in his first sports festival, and saw how I had failed as a teacher. I’m sure the only reason he agreed to teach Izuku was because he thought of it as his duty to Nana to make sure the ninth holder could control his quirk properly.”

“That’s not true, and you know it,” Sir immediately argues.

“It is true-”

Sir interrupts him before he can say more than three words. “Gran Torino agreed to help teach Izuku because he cares about you and wants–“

There’s a deafening crack.

“Shit-!” Sir curses under his breath and pushes his chair away from the table, wide eyes riveted on the cracks spiderwebbing out from under his partner’s massive hand. “All Might-”

Pale blue eyes stare right into his soul, open and vulnerable.

“Why should he care about the man who got his wife killed?”

There’s something wrong with All Might, Izuku can’t help but think as he stares at his silent phone, not paying as much attention to his surroundings as he probably should be. He hasn’t gotten a single text from his father all day, and he’s starting to get worried.

“I’m sure he’s just busy with work, honey,” his mother had said, “He is the number one hero after all.”

And she’s right, of course.

Though it’s not something he’s ever likely to forget (that his father is the number one hero, the man he’s idolized all his life), over the years he has found himself getting used to having All Might readily available – to talk to, and hug, and just be with. But All Might isn’t retired in this timeline, and Izuku is finding it a bit hard to adjust to not having him all to himself and his mother anymore.

“You shouldn’t be out here at this time of night,” says an unexpected voice just then, and Izuku is jerked out of his thoughts.

He swings around to face the source of the voice, arms already raised in a defensive position only to stop short at the hero standing before him, unimpressed gaze focused on Izuku’s fighting stance.

“Ai-Eraserhead!” he gasps.

And he looks so young (just 25, his mind supplies helpfully), his hair is tied back to keep out of his eyes, and his face is clean-shaven for once, but it’s definitely him.

Aizawa’s eyes narrow suspiciously at Izuku’s slip-up, at the fact that a kid his age even recognizes such an underground hero like him let alone knows his legal name, then his gaze flicks down to where Izuku’s arms are still raised in defense, and he seems to come to a conclusion.

“A pro hero’s kid?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

Izuku has only a second to decide how much he wants to reveal, before nodding and smiling sheepishly.

Aizawa rolls his eyes at that.

“Listen kid, how old are you?” he asks.

“Nine,” Izuku answers obediently.

“And do you know what time it is?”

He seems to be in lecture mode now, and a small part of Izuku finds that funny, because he’d always thought his homeroom teacher’s mother hen tendencies had come hand in hand with his teaching position. It had never occurred to him that Aizawa might have been like that from the beginning.

“I’m sorry sir,” he tells him. “I just went to the conbini around the corner to pick up some things. I was on my way back home right now. Honest.”

“Be that as it may,” Aizawa replies, “There have been reports of villains in this area tonight, and it is not safe for a child to be out by himself this late. No matter how much quirk training you may have received from your parents.”

“Yes sir!” Izuku answers, saluting playfully and causing his teacher to roll his eyes.

“Come on then, I’ll walk you back home,” Aizawa orders, nudging Izuku in the direction he had been heading in earlier.

“But didn't you say there were reports of villains around here?” asks Izuku, swinging his arms happily at his side as he trots along after Aizawa. His worry for All Might is still there, tucked away in the corner of his mind, but for now he’s excited to be spending time with his teacher, even if Aizawa doesn’t remember him. There’s something comforting about having a familiar face around. “Don’t you need to go and find them?”

“My first priority is to make sure civilians are safe,” Aizawa answers. “Anyways, your house can’t be too far from here. I will go back to my patrols once you are safe at home.”

Izuku nods in understanding, and the two of them walk in silence for a minute or two before he speaks up again.

“Hey, Aiz-I mean, Eraserhead-”

“Just call me Aizawa if it’s easier for you, kid,” Aizawa relents, and Izuku’s face breaks into a bright grin.

“Have you ever considered becoming a teacher, Aizawa-sensei?” he asks, causing the hero to look at him with a strange expression.

“I’m a pro hero,” he says. “If I had wanted to become a teacher, I would be a teacher.”

“No but, I mean, a heroics teacher!” Izuku clarifies. “I think you’d be great at it! You’re such a great hero already! And I think it would mean a lot to kids who don’t have physical enhancement type quirks to have a teacher like you at UA, or Shiketsu, or something.”

Aizawa snorts. “You’ve known me for all of three minutes, kid. How would you know if I’d make a good teacher or not? I don’t even like kids.”

“That’s a lie and you know it!” Izuku crows. “My dad tells me stories about you sometimes, you know.”

“Yeah?” asks Aizawa, ignoring the first part of his statement out of curiosity about the second. He’s mostly a solo player, and he doesn’t exactly make an effort to play friendly with any of his colleagues other than Present Mic (who doesn’t really count, seeing as they’re engaged), so he can’t imagine who would be talking about him favorably. “And just who is your father?”

Izuku grins up at him then, and Aizawa wonders about the mischievous anticipation in his expression.

“All Might!” he chirps, and Aizawa almost trips over his own two feet.

And to his credit, he only gapes at Izuku in astonishment for about ten seconds before regaining his composure.

“You’re…All Might’s son.”

“Yup!” Izuku answers, then holds out his pinky. “But you have to keep it a secret, okay?”

Aizawa stares at his outstretched hand for a few seconds, before shrugging and accepting the promise. “Sure thing, kid.”

“And if you lie, you have to swallow a million needles!” Izuku declares.

“You mean a thousand,” Aizawa corrects.

“Nope!” Izuku declares, withdrawing his hand and pointing at the apartment building they’re approaching. “There’s my home! Thanks so much for walking me back, Aizawa-san!”

“Sure,” says Aizawa. And then, before Izuku can run off, asks a question that’s been bothering him the past few minutes. “Do you have your father’s super strength quirk?”

“Yeah?” says Izuku, only it sounds more like a question. “Oh, but the doctors told me I’m not allowed to use it yet! Because I’m too young, and my body’s not ready for it.”

Aizawa accepts this explanation at face value.

“Then what you said about people without physical enhancement quirks…”

The kid’s face turns unexpectedly somber then, and Aizawa finds his interest piqued.

“One of my friends has a…uh, mind-related quirk,” Izuku says, stumbling over his words and catching himself just seconds before he says brain-washing. He doesn’t know Shinsou yet in this world, and it might pose a problem in the future if Aizawa remembers this conversation. “It’s really powerful, but people are always telling him it’s a villain’s quirk, and that he can’t become a hero. I just…I think it would be good for him to have someone to look up to. Like you.”

And with those parting words, he turns and runs towards his apartment building.

Aizawa watches him go, dumbstruck.

He’d never really set out to be a teacher, and when the kid had asked him about it, he’d been ready to brush off the suggestion without much thought.

However, the child’s words unexpectedly end up staying with him for several days afterwards.

He may not express it as openly as some of his colleagues, but Aizawa loves being a hero – it had been his calling since childhood. But for the first time in his life, he finds himself being pulled in a completely different direction, and he has no idea what to do.

Chapter Text

Sometimes, the universe works in strange ways, Shouta can’t help but think to himself.

It’s been just over a week since he had walked home the child claiming to be All Might’s son, and now he finds himself sitting at a conference table with the number one hero himself, listening to his sidekick Sir Nighteye explain their plan of action.

The rumours of suspected villains that Shouta had been following that night have since then escalated to concerns of child trafficking, and after days of extensive reconnaissance by the various hero agencies in the area, they had finally managed to find where the villains had been keeping the children imprisoned. The Eraserhead and Present Mic agencies, along with three others they had worked successfully alongside in the past, had banded together to plan a raid on the villains’ hideout later that afternoon.

Shouta, who had been leading the investigation until now and thus knew more than the rest of the heroes present, had resigned himself to acting as operation leader, rather than fight on the front lines like he preferred to.

That had all changed the moment the number one hero and his sidekick had appeared at his doorstep.

Surprised though he had been at All Might’s offer of help, Shouta didn’t hesitate to accept him onto their raid team.

The moment All Might had stepped into the conference room, the tension that had been hanging thick in the air since the meeting had started had immediately dissipated. And though Shouta may not get along with the man at the best of times, he can’t help but admire the confidence he inspires in those around him, the way even the most cynical heroes believe that everything is going to be alright once All Might shows up.

Once All Might and Sir Nighteye had been brought completely up to speed, they had naturally assumed leadership of the operation, and Shouta had been happy to defer to the tactical prowess of Sir Nighteye, a man so formidable he could easily have been a top-ranked hero in his own right by now.

Once Shouta has explained their original plan for the raid to the newcomers, the heroes take a half hour break for Nighteye to pore over the notes, to go over every possible outcome and find ways to improve their probability of success.

The other heroes take this chance to check in with their own agencies, to call the sidekicks or partners that had been left behind to cover their usual patrols and make sure nothing important had happened.

Shouta, who usually works nights and doesn’t have any patrols to worry about for the moment, decides to take this chance to approach All Might. He can tell how curious the other heroes are, how they’ve been wondering at All Might’s presence in Musutafu from the moment he had stepped through the door.

But Shouta, who knows about the little nine-year-old who lives only a couple blocks away, with bright green eyes and messy curls and boundless energy, has a niggling suspicion as to why the Symbol of Peace might have strayed so far from his usual routes.

The child must have taken after his mother, Shouta thinks, because there’s not much resemblance between him and his father. Not in terms of appearance, at least – but Shouta can see traces of him in All Might, in the small gestures, the tilt of his head, the bounce in his step, the quirk of his smile.

“I don’t know what you’ve been telling him about me,” says Shouta, voice quiet to not be overheard, “but your son is absolutely incorrigible.”

“My-?” All Might chokes out, eyes widening, and Shouta almost loses his poker face. “Izuku? How do you-?”

Shouta shrugs nonchalantly.

“I bumped into him on one of my patrols last week,” he says. “Honestly All Might, that boy has absolutely no common sense. I don’t know how you’ve been raising him.”

All Might groans in exasperation, but doesn’t look the least bit surprised. “What did he do this time?”

“Well for one, he told me, someone he had only met minutes beforehand, who he was,” Shouta says, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. “Given how you haven’t even let on that you’re married, let alone a father, I’m guessing that’s something you don’t exactly want the world to know about?”

All Might shrugs helplessly. “He’s usually pretty responsible with these things,” he says. “But you are one of his favourite heroes, you know. I guess he decided to trust you.”

“How does he even know me?” asks Shouta. “I’m an underground hero for a reason, All Might. I don’t need you-”

“Hey hey hey, that part wasn’t actually my fault!” All Might protests, hands raised in surrender. “He’s a hero otaku! I may have told him some stories about you, but he’s the one that asked for them. He heard about you on a forum or something and did his research, I swear!”

“The son of the number one hero is a hero otaku,” says Shouta, one eyebrow raised. “Why am I not-”

“All Might!” calls a voice, interrupting their conversation, and Shouta turns to see that Sir Nighteye has abandoned his notes and is approaching them with a purpose in his step. His eyes are focused on his partner, intense, and Shouta can’t even begin to translate the conversation that happens between the two in that gaze.

Coming to a stop in front of them, Nighteye doesn’t even spare Shouta a glance as he nods once at his partner, curt and full of meaning.

“He’s here,” is all he says.

Shouta turns to look at All Might, wondering who they could be talking about, and sees that his body is tense, all traces of amusement from their conversation a few seconds ago gone, lips set in a determined frown.

All Might nods.

“I won’t fail him this time,” he says, voice quiet and full of emotion.

‘One of the victims?’ Shouta wonders. There are six in all that the heroes know of, and there’s only one thing they have in common – their highly destructive quirks. They had assumed that the villains planned to groom the children into villains themselves.

Shouta had assumed that the reason All Might had taken particular interest in this case is because his son lives so close and he wants to ensure his safety, but could he possibly have a personal connection to one of the victims as well?

 It’s loud outside his room.

So loud.

His head feels like it’s stuffed full of cotton, and he’s finding it hard to focus on what’s happening around him. He can’t even dredge up the energy to feel curious or scared about the commotion happening outside.

Pulling his legs up close to his chest, he rests his head on his knees, hoping it will abate the pounding.

He licks his parched lips, and tastes the tang of blood from his slit lip.

The noises outside are only getting louder.

He hopes they stop soon. His head hurts, and the loud noises aren’t helping at all.

He wonders when their food is going to come.

It won’t be enough to sate the gnawing hunger, it never is. But it’ll help take the edge off, at least.

He’s so focused on the pain in his head, and his stomach, and his arms and legs and everywhere else, that he almost doesn’t notice the noise outside his room gradually die down.

But then, the sound of a deafening thud, terrifyingly close.

The sound of the door banging open, and suddenly there’s light flooding into his dingy little room.

He looks up, heart in his throat.

It’s so dark in his room, and so bright outside.

The light is blinding.

He forces himself to look, trying to make out who it is. And finally, he makes out a silhouette, big and hulking, fists clenched at their sides as they walk towards him.

A choked sob escapes him, and the figure stops its advance.

But he lurches forward, trying to get his unsteady legs under him. He sees the trademark “v” of All Might’s hair, and he reaches forward, to where he knows safety and security and love await him.

All Might starts approaching again, slowly this time.

Then finally, after what seems an eternity, his arms close around a tiny body – so small, too small to belong to an eleven-year-old.

The boy is shaking, clutching at All Might’s costume as if he were a lifeline.

“Shh,” he comforts, running a hand up and down the child’s back. “It’s alright. Everything will be alright now, Tenko-kun.”

Chapter Text

Convincing Izuku’s school to officially withdraw him from classes ends up being a lot more difficult than Izuku or either of his parents had expected.

It’s already been a week and a half since Toshinori had first suggested the option of homeschooling, and Inko once again finds herself sitting in the principal’s office.

The official reason they’re giving for taking her son out of school is that he is no longer able to bear the bullying of the other students, which is why she once again finds herself going over the exact same argument they’d had the last three times she had been here.

“I understand and appreciate your concern for my son, Sano-sensei,” she says, and the effort it takes to keep her voice polite is monumental. “But forgive me if I am just a little bit skeptical - this is not the first time you have promised to put an end to the bullying he has suffered, day in and day out, during his time here.”

The principal sighs and leans forward, propping his elbows on the desk between them. His face is a mask of insincere concern, and though Inko usually considers herself to be slow to anger, she finds herself fighting back the urge to strangle him.

“You have every right to be upset, Midoriya-san,” he says. “The continued harassment Izuku-kun has been subject to has been a great failure on our part, but I implore you to not make any rash decisions that could end up doing more harm than good. I will personally work with his teachers to-”

“And just how exactly do you expect that to help when his teachers are as much bullies as the rest of his classmates?” Inko asks, the calm of her voice heralding the storm building within her.

The principal’s expression tightens with anger, and Inko is almost pleased that she’s finally managed to push one of his buttons.

“You think I don’t know?” she asks, and her voice is rising, but she can’t help it. “You think I don’t hear the contempt in their voice during parent-teacher meetings? You think I don’t see the way they ignore the other kids’ teasing on parent participation day?”

He opens his mouth to counter, but Inko doesn’t give him the chance. She’s losing her grip on all the frustration, all the helplessness, all the anger that’s been building up inside her for who knows how long now, and she’s going to say her piece if it kills her.

“Do you have any idea how it feels? To see my nine-year-old son come home with new scrapes and bruises every day? To see my energetic, friendly, outgoing son slowly become small and withdrawn, to see him jump at the slightest sounds?”

There are tears stinging at the corner of her eyes, and she knows that the bullying is just an excuse, she knows that nothing any of these people say can hurt him anymore, because her baby boy has already gone ahead and grown up without her. But that doesn’t excuse it. That doesn’t excuse all of the pain he’s gone through, not just in this timeline, but in that alternate timeline as well.

Izuku doesn’t talk about it with her, but she’s heard enough from her fiancé to know that the bullying had only gotten worse through junior high, that he hadn’t made his first true friend until UA.

There’s silence in the office for several minutes as Inko and the principal stare each other down, neither side willing to give in.

The principal doesn’t seem at all affected by her words, and when next he opens his mouth to speak, instead of an apology what comes out is, “I understand how painful the situation must be for you, Midoriya-san, but I’m afraid you are being entirely too harsh in your assessment of my teachers, who I assure you are doing their utmost to provide a safe and welcoming environment for your son and every other student in our school. That being said, there is only so much one can do when-”

“Bullshit,” interrupts Inko, and she’s not usually one to swear, but she finds there are a number of more colourful things she’d love to say to this sorry excuse of man in front of her at the moment. “You don’t plan on listening to me at all, do you?” she demands, fists clenching at her sides.

The look of cold indifference on the principal’s face tells her all she needs to know.

And after a week and a half of arguing, after pouring her heart out to try and convince him, and having him as good as spit in her face in return, she’s finally had enough.

She would have preferred to resolve this issue on her own, but she’s smart enough to know when there’s nothing more she can do, and she isn’t above using every tool in her arsenal to achieve her goals if it means her son will never again have to set foot in this horrible place.

The principal watches her with a wary curiosity as she turns to take her phone out of her purse, and opens her contacts.

She chooses a familiar number, puts her phone on speaker, and reaches out to lay it on the desk in front of her.

His eyes widen in incredulity as he sees the contact photo, and she can tell he doesn’t quite believe her.

Then, the call is picked up, and she watches with vindictive pleasure as the man’s skin turns the colour of ash when her fiancé’s voice booms out.

“Inko-san, hello!” he calls in his usual, cheery voice. “How did your meeting with the principal go? Did you want to talk to Izuku? He and I were just discussing-”

“All Might-san,” she interrupts before he can reveal too much, and he immediately cuts himself off at the sound of his hero name.

“Is there something wrong?” he asks, voice going serious, and the principal shifts in his seat, looking more uncomfortable by the second.

“Not at all,” Inko says, and her voice is sickly sweet. “Sano-sensei here was just telling me how he and his teachers plan on dealing with the children who have been making things so unpleasant for Izuku, and I thought you would like to hear what he had to say.”

“Really now,” asks All Might, and his tone has turned disapproving. “Well, that is something I would love to hear.”

Inko smiles pleasantly and sits back to watch the principal, eyes wide with panic, try to justify all the false platitudes he had been spewing at her with such confidence just minutes ago.

It’s barely ten minutes before Inko is finally walking out of the office with the correct paperwork, and the assurance that by the following week, her son will no longer be a student of the school.

Toshinori shakes his head in disgust as he hangs up the phone call with the principal of his son’s elementary school.

He knows firsthand how much Inko hates to rely on his influence as the number one hero, so she must really have been desperate to call in his help. Not that he minds.

“Is something wrong?” asks Izuku, looking up from the hero news show he’d been watching as Toshinori walks back into the living room. His son is exactly how Toshinori had left him ten minutes ago, curled up on the sofa and nursing a cooling cup of hot chocolate.

He looks exhausted, and Toshinori can’t really blame him. Inko has told him about the nightmares Izuku’s been having recently, how he wakes up sobbing after the friends he’d lost.

“Nothing big,” Toshinori assures, going to settle back in beside Izuku, who immediately leans into his side with a small sigh.

It’s a Friday afternoon, and on any other given week, Izuku would already be on his way to Tokyo by now, to All Might’s agency. But ever since the raid that had seen the rescue of Shigaraki Tomura Shimura Tenko on Wednesday, Toshinori has been taking a temporary leave of absence from work to deal with the situation in Musutafu.

Not only has All Might taken it upon himself to be there for Shiga- Tenko as the child heals from his ordeal, but his son has also been uncharacteristically clingy ever since he’d heard the news about the boy who might once have become his sworn enemy.

“No one is going to think badly of you if you don’t want to have anything to do with him, Izuku,” Toshinori says, picking up the thread of conversation they’d been having before they were interrupted.

He wraps his arm around those fragile little shoulders, and Izuku is silent for a minute, instead burrowing deeper into his side. Toshinori feels his heart break. It’s in moments like these that it’s hardest to see his son as the nineteen-year-old hero he had become, rather than the nine-year-old child before him.

“I would think badly of me,” Izuku protests finally. “He’s…he’s a child, dad. An innocent child who’s done nothing wrong. But when I think of him, all I can think of is the man that murdered my friends, my family. And- and that’s not fair. I’m a hero, it’s my job to help him, but I’m just so damn scared. I’m scared of becoming the kind of person that blames people for things that aren’t their fault.”

He’s outright sobbing by the time he finishes speaking, clutching at Toshinori’s shirt in the same way Tenko had when he had saved him.

“Oh Izuku, you’re being too hard on yourself, my son,” Toshinori tells him gently, smoothing back his soft green curls to drop a kiss onto his forehead. "You may be a hero, but you’re still human – you’re allowed to feel human emotions. And more than that, you’re nine.”

Izuku opens his mouth to protest, but Toshinori cuts him off.

“You may have the memories of an adult, but your brain is still that of a child. You’re still growing and maturing, and no one expects you to be the Symbol of Peace yet. I plan on keeping that title for myself for a much longer time, this time around,” Toshinori jokes, and is awarded with a small, watery chuckle. “Let yourself grow, and learn, and make mistakes. Let yourself feel fear and anger, and you will be that much stronger when you overcome it.”

He pauses, and when Izuku looks up at him, he’s relieved to see that familiar spark of determination in his eyes.

“I won’t force you to see Tenko,” Toshinori tells him. “But if you really want to help him, then I do hope you’ll try once. It would help him so much to have someone closer to his own age to talk to and be with. But if you decide it’s too much for you, then no one will judge you, Izuku. We will find other ways.”

Izuku thinks it over for a few minutes.

Then finally, he nods.

“I’ll see him,” he says. “But. Only if you call Gran Torino first.”

Chapter Text

Izuku stares up at his father with a newfound determination. He’s still not so sure about meeting Tenko, still so worried about treating the boy unfairly, but he’s willing to try, especially if it means All Might will finally iron things out with Gran Torino.

Now that Tenko had been saved, he probably would have had to make the call eventually anyways, but knowing his father, he would have put it off as long as possible, and then chickened out and ended up just sending a message with Nighteye or one of his management staff.

All Might’s expression is incredulous as he stares back at Izuku. “How do you even know about that?” he asks, and Izuku smirks.

“Sir told me!” he says. “Anyways, Tenko is going to need someone to take care of him once he’s out of the hospital, right? So don’t you think Gran Torino-san would be a good choice? He was married to Tenko’s grandmother, after all!”

“I don’t know, Izuku,” All Might replies, a complicated expression on his face. “Gran Torino is pretty old, I don’t know if he could raise a young child all by himself.”

“But he’s a pro hero!” Izuku insists. “He seemed plenty fine to me, when I went for my internship with him!”

“You were a teenager then,” says All Might. “An eleven-year-old is going to need a lot more attention and support than a fifteen-year-old, especially considering everything Tenko has been through. And like you said, Gran Torino is a pro hero – you know as well as I do how unpredictable a hero’s work can be. Who would care for Tenko while he was away?”

 Izuku doesn’t have an answer to that. He slumps back a little, disheartened.

“We can’t just abandon him though,” he says, voice quiet. The thought of meeting Tenko makes Izuku’s insides twist into knots of anxiety, but he still wants the boy to be okay.

And he knows it’s unreasonable, but there’s a part of him that feels responsible for Tenko, for making sure he has a good childhood.

Maybe it’s because he knows, firsthand, how close the child’s future came to being completely destroyed.

Maybe it’s Izuku’s way of making up for all the people Shigaraki Tomura had killed, all the families he’d torn apart.

Or maybe it’s the simple fact that Izuku’s a hero, and that’s what heroes do.

Toshinori sighs, and pulls his son back into his arms. “We won’t,” he reassures. “I will personally make sure we find a good foster family to take him in, okay?”

“Alright…” Izuku answers, voice muffled by the fabric of Toshinori’s shirt.

There’s a moment of silence.

Then, “You still have to call Gran Torino, though.”

Izuku feels All Might’s body tense, and can’t help the chuckle that escapes him.

“You’re not going to get out of this one, dad,” he says. “Even if Gran Torino can’t take Tenko-kun in, he still deserves to know about him. And you still need to invite him to the wedding.”

All Might groans.

“When did my innocent son turn into this vicious little imp?” he laments, disentangling himself from Izuku so he can reach for the cell phone he had dropped onto the coffee table after his call with Inko.

“I thought it was about time I showed you my true self,” says Izuku, grinning cheekily as he watches All Might open his contacts. There’s a slight tremble in his fingers that Izuku doesn’t comment on as he selects the right number.

(And doesn’t that say something, Izuku thinks, that even though he knows they haven’t had regular contact in over twenty years, Gran Torino’s number is still set as a favourite in All Might’s cell, right alongside Sir’s, Izuku’s, and Inko’s numbers.)

Gran Torino is just about finishing up his patrol when he receives the call.

Normally, he keeps his phone on silent while working, but there are a select few numbers he has flagged as priority, each of them with custom ringtones. So when his phone starts ringing as he turns onto the street where his home/agency is located, highly trained reflexes have his phone out of his pocket and at his ear before his brain has even processed the obnoxious ringtone, one he hasn’t heard in over a year now.

He’s still half expecting an emergency as he answers with his usual, terse, “Gran Torino speaking.”

There’s a beat of silence, and finally his brain catches up with the situation at hand.

“Toshinori?” he asks when he doesn’t get a reply, and finally there’s a whisper of sound on the other end, an intake of breath.

“Sensei! It’s good to speak to you again,” the voice of the number one hero finally answers, just as cheerful as always, though Gran thinks he can detect a hint of a tremor.

“What did you call for?” is all Gran says in reply, and almost cringes at how harsh the question sounds as it comes out. But Toshinori isn’t the type to call for small talk, had made it perfectly clear long ago the kind of relationship (or lack thereof) the two of them had. “Was there a villain attack?”

“No, no, nothing like that!” Toshinori quickly assures. “It’s just…ah…are you busy right now, sensei?”

Gran’s brows furrow in confusion. “I’ve just finished my patrols for the day, why?” he asks.

“W-well, you see,” Toshinori stutters for a few seconds, “I was wondering if you had time to meet with me for a couple of hours tonight? There are some important issues I was hoping to discuss with you.”

“What kind of important issues?” asks Gran. “It’s already seven, Toshinori, by the time I even arrived at your agency, the sun would have gone down.”

“Oh, don’t worry about travelling sir, I would be more than happy to come and meet you at your agency! I’m actually staying in Musutafu for the weekend, so it wouldn’t take very long for me to get there-”

“Musutafu?” Gran Torino cuts in, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “What are you doing in Musutafu? This isn’t anything related to UA, is it?”

“Well…not…directly?” says Toshinori, though it sounds more like a question. “You see, it’s where my fiancée lives and-”

“A fiancée,” Gran Torino interrupts again, voice incredulous. “Toshinori, if this is your way of inviting me to your wedding-”

“No!” Toshinori yelps in reply, and Gran Torino swears he can hear muffled giggling from the other end of the line.

“No?” asks Gran, and can’t help teasing, “So I’m not invited?”

The giggling on the other end gets louder, and Gran can just imagine Toshinori’s frantic expression as he assures that, “Of course you’re invited, sensei! I just meant, well, the situation is complicated and there are other things I wanted to talk to you about as well.”

“Complicated how?” asks Gran Torino. “Don’t tell me you got her pregnant. Toshinori, I think I taught you better than-”

“NO,” Toshinori is quick to interject. “Why do people keep jumping to that conclusion? I did not get– Izuku, this is not funny, you stop that giggling right now,” he admonishes, his voice going a little distant as he pulls the phone away from his ear to speak to whomever is with him.

The giggling stops, and Gran can faintly hear a young voice replying that the situation was absolutely funny.

“Is that a child?” Gran asks, surprised. “Toshinori…don’t tell me you’re going after married women now…”

“What? ABSOLUTELY NOT!” Toshinori sputters in response, and the child (Izuku?) starts giggling again, even louder. “She is a single mother, and the complicated part has nothing to do with our relationship. The complicated part is about the future, and about my Master, Nana-san.”

Hearing the name of his late wife, all the laughter drains out of Gran’s body, and he immediately sobers up.

“So it’s that kind of discussion,” he says. “Alright then. Where in Musutafu are you? I will come to you.”

“There’s no need to inconvenience yourself, sensei!” Toshinori is quick to reply. “I can drop by your agency and-”

“No, no, invite him here!” interrupts the child’s voice. “He can have dinner with us, and if he wants to, he can sleep in the guest room tonight, and then tomorrow we can go to the-”

“Izuku,” says Toshinori in a warning voice, obviously about to turn down the suggestion.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” says Gran, before Toshinori has a chance to deny the suggestion. “Tell Izuku-kun I appreciate the invitation.”

There’s a cheer on the other end, and the sound of running footsteps as Izuku’s faint voice calls, “Mom, mom!”

Gran laughs at his enthusiasm. “Well, you’ll certainly have your hands full with that one. If you’re not careful, Toshinori, he’ll be walking all over you in no time.”

Toshinori chuckles goodnaturedly. “He already does,” he says in mock despair. “The little devil is lucky he’s so cute.”

“Well, you know what they say about karma,” Gran teases. “Consider this payback for all the grief you’ve given me over the years.”

The comment doesn’t end up getting the chuckle Gran had expected.

Instead, there’s a long moment of silence.

“Sensei…” starts Toshinori, voice suspiciously watery. “I…”

He doesn’t seem to know what to say, and in the end, Gran takes pity on him.

“Save it for when I’m actually there, so I can hit you for whatever stupid thing you have running through your mind right now,” he grumbles.

Chapter Text

The apartment building Gran arrives at by following All Might’s directions is an exceptionally normal one, the kind you could find in just about any city across Japan.

It’s simple, clean, and well-kept. The few residents he passes in the lobby are friendly, making small talk about the weather as they ride the elevator up.

Overall, it’s all very underwhelming, and Gran Torino can’t decide if he’s surprised or not.

But as he arrives in front of the right door, he only has time to knock once before suddenly there’s the sound of running feet, and the door is being yanked open to reveal a child barely taller than Gran himself. The boy had obviously been waiting for his arrival.

He takes in freckled cheeks flushed with excitement, soft green curls bouncing with every movement of his head, warm green eyes crinkled in a smile that takes up the child’s whole face. There’s genuine excitement there, and Gran feels something tense inside him loosen as the boy bows clumsily and introduces himself as Midoriya Izuku.

“Please come in, Gran Torino-san!” he invites, stepping to the side so Gran can enter.

As Gran does so, bending down to take off his shoes, Toshinori steps into the foyer, followed by a woman that makes Gran’s heart squeeze painfully in his chest when he sees her, bringing to mind memories of his late wife.

She’s soft where Nana had been hard, almost dainty in a way that his wife had never been, but there’s a familiar spark in her eyes that makes Gran ache for a home long gone. This is a woman that would do anything for the ones she loves, and in that moment he knows that Toshinori has found a good one.

“My name is Midoriya Inko,” she says with a bow. “It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you, Gran Torino-san. Toshinori has told me so much about you.”

“Has he, now?” asks Gran, turning his gaze on a sheepish-looking All Might. “I wish I could say the same, but this ungrateful boy hasn’t bothered to pick up a phone and call me in well over a year, so I’m afraid I haven’t heard anything about you at all, Midoriya-san.”

Toshinori laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck and not meeting Gran’s eyes for a moment.

“I apologize for not checking in with you for so long, Sensei. Things have been…rather hectic for me, especially in these last few months,” he explains, and his expression is genuinely regretful. “It is very good to see you again, however. Please come in, dinner is just about ready.”

“That’s the same excuse you used last time, you useless boy,” Gran harrumphs, whacking All Might in the leg with his cane as he walks past him and into the living room beyond.

He thinks he hears a snicker from behind him as Izuku  whispers something that sounds suspiciously like “it’s your own fault” to All Might, before running to catch up to Gran.

“You can wash your hands in this bathroom right here, Gran Torino-san,” he chirps, leading the old hero towards it. “I think mom’s almost done setting the table already. She makes the best food ever…except maybe Lunch Rush’s food. You know I tried convincing her to make some taiyaki for dinner too, since I know you like it so much but she said no because taiyaki isn’t a dinner food and I mean I guess she’s right but like what’s the worst that could happen-”

The child keeps chattering nonstop as he follows Gran Torino to the bathroom so they can both wash their hands, not letting him get a word in edgewise, and Gran listens to him in amused silence, wondering how long he’ll be able to go on.

Together, the two of them pass through the living room to reach the dining table, and as Gran looks around at his surroundings, the best word he can think of to describe it is warm. Not in the literal sense, but rather in the sense that makes one want to curl up on the sofa with a book, basking in the presence of loved ones. It’s so homey, and as he notices Toshinori helping finish setting the table, he can’t help but think the man looks so much more comfortable than he’s ever been at that big fancy condo of his in Tokyo.

“Izuku, don’t forget to breathe,” Toshinori reminds his son, voice laced with amusement, and Izuku immediately shuts up, taking a deep breath. “I apologize for him, sensei,” Toshinori says in the brief silence that follows. “He’s been feeling a bit cooped up these past few months. He doesn’t really get along with the other kids his age, and other than us, the only people he’s really had a chance to talk to are the staff at my agency.”

Izuku laughs sheepishly at his father’s words.

“I’m just excited to finally meet you, Gran Torino-san,” he says almost shyly, his excited smile softening into something small and sweet. “You trained dad when he was at UA, right? I bet you have so many stories! He never tells me any of the funny or embarrassing ones.”

Gran’s face splits into a shit-eating grin at the mention of embarrassing stories, and he notices Toshinori’s dismayed expression out of the corner of his eye. The kid obviously thinks the world of him, and he understands Toshinori’s desire to remain as a cool, perfect, and untainted idol in Izuku’s eyes, but if the kid is already calling him “dad”, then a few embarrassing stories aren’t going to do any harm.

“Leave it to me, brat,” he says, ignoring Toshinori’s groan as he turns to take a seat at the dining table.

Izuku makes a noise of excitement at that, scampering around the table to take the empty seat next to Gran Torino, obviously intending to keep badgering him throughout their meal.

Rather than being annoyed as he might have expected, Gran finds it endearing. He can definitely see how the kid might have wrapped Toshinori around his finger already.

The dinner passes peacefully, with Izuku doing the lion’s share of talking, while his parents have to constantly remind him to eat.

By the time the adults have finished eating, Izuku still has half his food left, and is in the middle of a long-winded and frankly quite impressive detailing of the pros and cons of Gran Torino’s quirk, as well as the ways he could use it in conjunction with the quirks of popular heroes.

In the end, he only stops when Midoriya lays a hand on her son’s shoulder, and he snaps out of his thoughts, blinking, disoriented, around the table as he notices that all the dishes have been cleared and Gran is staring at him with a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Are you done with your food?” she asks, nodding down at his plate, still half full of rice and curry.

He looks down at the food, then up at his father across the table, his expression torn.

Toshinori raises a bushy eyebrow and looks pointedly down at the food, his meaning clear.

Izuku hesitates, turning to look at Gran with a complicated expression on his face.

“Eat,” Toshinori urges, verbally this time. “We can talk here. I’ll tell him about Tenko-kun first, then you can tell him about the other thing after you’re done eating, alright?” he reassures, reaching forward to brush a grain of rice from his son’s cheek.

Satisfied, Izuku nods and picks up his spoon again.

Gran looks from one to the other, wondering what the hell is going on, wondering what exactly Izuku could have to tell him that was of such importance. He puts his curiosity aside for the moment, though, in order to focus on the subject at hand. “Tenko?” he asks.

Toshinori nods, propping his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his joined hands. He seems to contemplate his words for a few moments, before finally deciding to go the direct route.

“Two days ago, my agency, along with several others, raided a villain hideout and rescued several children that they had kidnapped,” Toshinori starts, and Gran’s brows knit together in confusion.

“Yes, it’s been all over the news,” he says. “But what does that have to do with me? Or Nana for that matter?”

Toshinori is quiet again for a few moments, and Gran has to resist the urge to shake the answers out of him – all this mystery and vagueness is starting to get on his nerves.

“One of the children we rescued was eleven-year-old Shimura Tenko-kun,” Toshinori finally says, and the name is like a punch to Gran Torino's gut.

“Shimura?” he demands, voice breathless, and Toshinori nods.

“Nana-san’s grandson,” he clarifies. “He’s eleven; in foster care since his quirk manifested 7 years ago and he accidentally injured his mother with it. He’s alone, and he’s hurting, and if we don’t do something soon, he’s going to disappear into the foster care system again and who knows if he’s going to get the help he needs.”

Gran Torino grits his teeth.

“We can’t,” he says. “We promised Nana to-”

“Nana-san is dead,” snaps an irritated voice, and Gran’s head snaps around to stare at Izuku in shock.

Gone is the friendly child that he had become endeared to over the course of the night, and in his place is a borderline hostile boy, expression drawn in frustration and looking years older than he has any right to.

“Izuku,” Toshinori says in a warning voice.

“No, be quiet for a second dad,” says Izuku, not even looking over at him. “Nana-san is dead,” he repeats, staring Gran Torino in the eyes, “And Tenko-kun is alive and his well-being is more important than your promise to a dead woman, Gran Torino-san.”

“You don’t know what you’re-” Gran starts to say, but Izuku immediately cuts him off.

“I DO,” he says. “I know she meant well, I know that she was only trying to protect her son when she gave him up for adoption. But the fact of the matter is it didn’t WORK. Tenko-kun was still kidnapped. Tenko-kun was still hurt, and now we have the chance to help him, and you want to sit back and do nothing? Why are adults always so selfish?”

“Izuku, that’s enough,” Toshinori admonishes, voice firm.

“No it’s not!” Izuku shouts. “All for One is dead now, so it’s not like we have to-”

“All for One?” interrupts Gran Torino, gaze sharpening at the mention of the villain.

Izuku immediately snaps his mouth shut, expression becoming alarmed.

“You…”

Gran is speechless, eyes widening as realization dawns, and suddenly he sees this whole situation in a whole new light.

“You’re from the future.”

Chapter Text

“How could you possibly have come to that conclusion?” asks All Might, voice incredulous and staring at his mentor with the same, bewildered expression that Izuku knows must be on his own face right now.

“Just who do you think I am, boy?” demands Gran Torino, and Izuku is sure that, had they not still been seated at the dining table, the old man would have given his former student another bruise on the shins. “I knew Nana since before she ever met the sixth holder. You think I wouldn’t know the ins and outs of that quirk by now?”

“Well– I mean– You’re–“ All Might splutters, at a loss for words.

Gran Torino cuts him off before he can figure out what he’s trying to say. Whirling around, he jabs a finger at Izuku’s chest.

“And not to mention, you! How old are you?” he demands.

Izuku laughs awkwardly and backs away; he had not imagined this was how the meeting would go, though knowing Gran Torino, he probably should have. The old man has always been a sharp one, and he had been married to the 7^th holder. Why hadn’t either he or All Might realized Gran Torino might know something about their situation?

“Nineteen,” he answers truthfully, lips quirking into what he hopes is an endearing smile.

“Have you ever met a nine-year-old?” Gran demands, bopping him lightly on the head.

Izuku pouts, and looks away. “We were already planning on telling you about it after dinner, so it’s not like I was trying especially hard,” he says defensively.

Gran opens his mouth, as if to continue berating him, but Izuku’s next words stop him in his tracks.

“I was just excited to see you again,” he says, averting his eyes as he feels the sting of oncoming tears. “I missed you, and- and-”

Startled, and not sure what to do, Gran looks across the table at Toshinori for help. The man looks agitated at his son’s distress, but he doesn’t make a move to get up. Instead, he meets Gran’s eyes, and raises his hand to pat the air.

Haltingly, Gran Torino mimics him, patting Izuku’s soft green curls and wondering how exactly this is supposed to help.

Surprisingly though, he does manage to get a watery chuckle out of Izuku. “Sorry, Gran Torino-san,” he says, wiping at his eyes. “I’ve always been quick to tears, and I guess being in my younger body again has only made it worse.”

“It’s fine, young man,” he says, voice gruff. “I suppose I hadn’t considered how much the changes in your body would affect you. Nana and I were already adults even after she came back in time, so there wasn’t too much of a difference, physically. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for you, to go from an adult’s body to a child’s.”

Almost before he can even finish his sentence, there’s the sound of a chair scraping back against the floor, and he turns to see Toshinori had gotten out of his seat, and is staring at him in shock.

“Nana-san was from the future?” he asks, eyes blown wide and hands braced on the table as he leans forward. “But...how? How far? How did she still die? She knew the future and-”

Gran turns, and holds up a hand to cut Toshinori off.

“Understand this, you useless boy. That way of thinking is absolutely wrong, and dangerous, and you must stop it at once. You don’t know the future. You have never known the future.”

Toshinori opens his mouth to argue, but Gran plows on before he can get a word out.

“You simply know one single possible outcome out of uncountable billions. With every change you or your boy here make to this timeline, it deviates further and further from the one you lived through the first time around.”

Gran pauses, as if to think.

Then, he heaves a heavy sigh, and says, “Nana traveled back fifteen years into the past. She died only two years afterwards.”

There’s a choked sound from Toshinori, and Izuku’s heart goes out to his father.

“There was once a timeline where she was the one that trained you,” Gran Torino says, and his eyes are distant as he thinks to a world he never got to live through. “A world where you were raised alongside her son as brothers. A world where we lived almost two decades married to each other, instead of just three years.”

“Then why?” demands Toshinori, eyes filling with tears. “Why did she die? Why didn’t I ever get to know her better?”

He looks so hurt, so angry that he had had so much taken away from him before he’d even known about it. And against his good sense, Izuku clambers up onto the clean dining table and crosses it to wrap his arms around his father’s neck, hoping to provide at least some measure of comfort. Reflexively, Toshinori returns the embrace, sweeping him into gentle arms.

“Because she loved you too much,” says Gran, and his face is much too grim for such a lovely statement.

Izuku cranes his head around to stare at his old mentor, the man he’s always secretly thought of as something like a grandfather. He knows the confusion on his own face is mirrored on his father’s.

“Toshinori, One for All is…it’s our trump card. It’s the only thing that could ever take down All for One. And more than that, it’s too dangerous for an untrained child. Traditionally, the holder of One for All spent years upon years training their successor before passing it on. Not only to make sure they were physically ready, but mentally as well. To make sure they were the right kind of person to receive it. Nana didn’t receive it from her master until she was 22.”

“What does that have to do with any of this?” asks All Might.

“Because that’s the approach Nana took in the other timeline,” answers Gran. “She was planning on passing it on to you on your 25^th birthday. I tried to convince her to do it earlier; 25 was very late, even by the past holders’ standards. But she wanted to keep you out of the fight for as long as possible. She wanted to protect you. You were her…you were our son after all. And I think…I think she hoped, right up until the very end, that she would be strong enough to defeat All for One. So you would never have to bear the burden of ending him.”

Izuku feels horror well up like bile in his throat as he suddenly realizes where this story is going. The way All Might’s grip on him tightens, he can tell his father has realized it too.

“But All for One found out about you, and about our other son, Touma. Three months before she was to pass One for All to you…he kidnapped and slaughtered the both of you.”

Izuku can’t help the whimper that leaves his throat at the revelation, and tightens his arms around his father.

“Losing the two of you, it broke her. Even after you were gone, she couldn’t bring herself to look for another successor. For the next four years, she tried her damnedest to kill All for One, but her strength just wasn’t enough. She ended up dying four years after you. And then she woke up again in the past.”

Gran stops to take a breath, and he looks so weary just then, so different from the boisterous old man Izuku knows, and it hurts him in a way he can’t describe.

“Do you remember the day she told you that you would inherit One for All when you turned 14? Do you remember how she hugged you? How she wouldn’t let you out of her sight for a week afterwards?”

“That was when she came back,” Toshinori answers, his voice thunderstruck. “That’s why she gave me a two day break from training. She was telling you about the future! You were coming up with a plan to change everything!”

Gran nods.

“We had many ideas on how to fix everything. She saw how her job had affected Touma, how he had never had the childhood he deserved. And so, even though it killed her, she gave him up for adoption so he would be safe from All for One. She would have sent you away too, if there was any possibility at all that she could defeat All for One herself. But we knew she couldn’t, and she wouldn’t accept anyone but you as her successor. So she passed One for All to you as soon as your body was able to bear it, because she knew All for One would get his hands on you again one day, and she wanted you to be able to hold your own against him.”

“But then what went wrong?” demands Toshinori. “Why did she die so much earlier than she had in the other world?”

“Because she didn’t have One for All anymore,” Gran answers him matter-of-factly.

Izuku feels his father go deathly still.

“That final fight with All for One…it was one she had fought in the other timeline as well, and she had managed to survive it. But this time around…we forgot to account for the fact that she was weaker, that she had already begun to lose her power as you grew yours.

“She fell, and it was left to me to become your mentor, to train you. But I had never set out to be a hero, so I couldn’t teach you everything you needed to know. In the other timeline, you had been quirkless through high school, so you never attended UA, and Nana had just taught you everything you would need to know. But this time, Nana wasn’t there, and you had One for All, so I had you enroll at UA.”

Finally, Gran settles back into his seat, his story evidently complete, and a heavy silence settles over the living room.

Inko had tactfully left the room when Gran Torino had started his story, in order to give them a semblance of privacy, and as Izuku feels the tremors in his father’s body get stronger, he decides he should do the same.

He gives his father one last squeeze, then pats him on the arm, a signal to let him down.

Shooting one last meaningful gaze at Gran, Izuku zooms out of the living room, making a beeline for his mother’s bedroom.

As soon as he’s out of earshot, Toshinori collapses into his chair, his shoulders shaking with his sobs.

“Toshinori…” says Gran, his voice uncharacteristically gentle as he walks around to comfort his student.

“It’s all my fault,” he sobs. “I’m the reason she’s dead. No wonder you hate me.”

And Gran, who had been about to say something, immediately snaps his mouth shut.

“Hate you?” he demands, voice quiet and dangerous. “You think I hate you?”

Toshinori looks up, another self-deprecating comment on his lips, but he stops short as he sees the expression on Gran Torino’s face.

His features are twisted into a fury unlike anything Toshinori has ever seen from him.

Chapter Text

Before Toshinori has even had a chance to process what’s happening, Gran Torino vaults over the dining table to deliver a quirk-enhanced kick right to the center of his chest. The kick sends all the air whooshing out of Toshinori’s lungs, the force of it causing him to stumble back several steps until his back hits the wall.

Gran’s feet land on the dining table, putting him almost eye to eye with All Might, and he knows it’s horribly bad manners, but this is a conversation twenty years overdue, and he needs to make sure the idiot man in front of him is taking him seriously.

“How dare you?” he demands in a voice rough with emotion, and Toshinori looks so bewildered, Gran would have laughed if he could bring himself to find any humour at all in this situation. “I spent five years training you to be the best hero you could be! I became a hero so I could spar with you! I became a teacher even though I didn’t know the first thing about teaching! And you think I hate you?”

He can hear his voice steadily rising, and has to make a conscious effort to bring it back down, if only because this is a private discussion and it wouldn’t do for the neighbours to hear the particulars of it.

“But…” Toshinori trails off, at a loss for words. Everything he thought he knew is being turned on its head, and he has no idea how to respond. “But you stayed away…” is all he can think to say, and it sounds like a feeble excuse, even to his own ears.

“I stayed away because you kept pushing me away! I stayed away because I thought you hated me!” Gran Torino almost yells, and the words leave Toshinori dumbfounded.  “After all, I know I didn’t do the best job,” Gran says, fists clenched at his sides. “I know my training was too harsh, I know I didn’t encourage you enough or give you the emotional support you needed. And that’s on me. But I was so scared. I didn’t want my failure as your teacher to be the reason you died one day. And when I saw the kind of hero you became, it was worth it. Because you were alive, and you had grown into the kind of man that Nana had always believed you would be.”

Gran Torino’s chest is heaving by the time he finishes speaking, exhausted from the very weight of the emotions pressing on him, from the weight of the feelings he’s been carrying around for so long now.

“Gran Torino-san,” says All Might, voice thick with emotion as he steps towards his old mentor. His arms reach towards the old hero without his permission, seeking an embrace, but he stops short as he sees the tears threatening to pour over onto his old mentor’s cheeks.

His arms drop and he makes to pull away, but before he can get far, Gran reaches out to pull him into a hug.

Toshinori stumbles forward, off-kilter for a moment, and after only a second’s hesitation, he wraps his arms around Gran Torino’s deceptively frail figure.

“You stupid, stupid boy,” the old man grumbles. “How could a father ever hate his child?”

Toshinori doesn’t reply – can’t reply, around the lump lodged in his throat. He loses his fight against the tears burning his eyes, and there’s a part of him that’s absurdly relieved that Izuku isn’t here right now, to see his father’s ugly sobbing.

“I’m sorry,” he finally manages to choke out. “I’m so sorry for pushing you away, Gran Torino-san. But please don’t say you did a bad job as my teacher - you’re the best teacher I could have ever hoped for. You’re the reason I was able to get to where I am today.”

Gran pulls away with a grunt, turning away to hide the redness of his face. “That was all your own effort,” he grumbles. “All I did was teach you the basics. Any halfway decent teacher could have done that.”

Toshinori wants to argue, to list all the ways in which Gran Torino is one of the best people in his life, but he knows that it would just embarrass his old mentor, so he lets the point go.

After a few more moments of silence, the two men finally pull away, wiping at red cheeks and smiling shakily at each other. Gran Torino, suddenly realizing that he’s still standing on the dining table, immediately hops back to the ground with an embarrassed apology.

Toshinori waves it off with a chuckle, and there’s a brief moment of comfortable silence between them as he heads to the kitchen to get a damp tea towel to wipe down the table with.

“So…how long?” Gran asks in a casual voice as he takes a seat in one of the chairs. “Since you’ve been back.”

Toshinori freezes guiltily at the question, his back going straight, and Gran’s expression draws into a frown.

“Toshinori,” he says in a warning voice.

Toshinori turns around slowly with an awkward laugh.

“How. Long?” Gran repeats.

“Three…”

“Days?” asks Gran, raising an eyebrow. It’s not nearly as long as he’d expected, so he doesn’t-

Toshinori doesn’t answer, instead averting his eyes.

“Three weeks?” Gran Torino growls, and yeah, that’s definitely way longer than he would have liked, but he does understand that, as the number one hero, All Might’s work sometimes keeps him busier than Gran would have liked.

Toshinori coughs into his fist, a sound suspiciously like “months.”

And suddenly, Gran’s vision turns red.

“YOU KEPT THIS FROM ME FOR THREE MONTHS??”

By the time Shouta flops into bed next to his fiancé, the sun is already cresting over the horizon.

He knows Hizashi isn’t due to wake up for at least another three or four hours, thanks to his late night radio show job, so he’s not expecting it when the man immediately shuffles over to him as soon as he lies down, throwing an arm over his waist.

“How was work?” Hizashi asks, voice still thick with sleep, and Shouta huffs out an exasperated sigh.

“Quiet,” he answers. “Why are you awake?”

“I missed you,” Hizashi replies honestly, already sounding slightly more awake as he cracks his eyes open to look up at his fiancé with a sleepy smile. “I have to leave early today, so I’ll be gone by the time you wake up.”

Shouta’s eyebrows furrow. “Villains?” he asks, but Hizashi immediately shakes his head.

“One of the kids we rescued the other day has been having trouble,” Hizashi answers. “I’m going to the hospital check in on her.”

Understanding dawns on Shouta.

Despite his inherent loudness, Hizashi has always been good with young children, and as one of the objectively least threatening members of their raid team, he had been one of the ones chosen to help All Might rescue the captive children while the rest of the heroes dealt with the villains. It would make sense that he’d be the one they were most comfortable with.

“Did you want me to come too?” Shouta asks as he pulls their blanket up around their shoulders.

“Mmm, no,” Hizashi answers, eyelids already drooping closed again. “No offense Shouta, but you can be a little…intimidating sometimes.”

Shouta rolls his eyes, but doesn’t deny the claim.

“Anyways, don’t you have that meeting with Nedzu-sensei today?"

Chapter Text

Three days after Shimura Tenko’s number one favourite hero in the whole world rescues him from villains, another momentous event sets his life firmly on a new track, though he doesn’t know it himself at the time.

The day starts pretty eventfully when he’s woken up in the early hours of the morning, just as the first tinges of orange are touching the horizon.

There’s the sound of sniffling from the bed beside his, making Tenko immediately sit up in worry.

Of the five other children that had been saved at the same time as Tenko, four of them have their own private hospital rooms. They’re the lucky ones, the ones with loving families waiting for them at home and parents who had dropped everything they were doing to come see them as soon as they’d received news that their children had been found and saved. They’re the children who always have a parent or an uncle or auntie at their bedside, to comfort them through the night and tell them how much their siblings miss them.

The fifth child is like Tenko, an orphan whose legal guardians – her grandparents – hadn’t bothered to check in on her once in the past two days.

The doctors had, presumably, put her and Tenko in the room to keep each other company in the absence of their own families.

Tenko can tell the adults pity them – he’s eleven, not stupid. He can see it in the extra nice way the nurses talk to them, or the way they sometimes sneak little treats in for them.

His situation doesn’t really bother him – he likes it better here than he did with his foster parents, even if the two stitches in his lip are starting to itch and he’s still having trouble opening one of his eyes – but his roommate seems to be taking things a lot harder than he is.

She’s a year younger than him, with short blond hair cut in a pixie when the nurses hadn’t been able to brush the mats out of her waist-length locks. She’s been rather quiet since they had been admitted, not saying more than a handful of words to anyone other than Tenko. He’s not sure why exactly she had imprinted on him specifically – the villains had kept them all separate from each other in the days they had been imprisoned, so he hadn’t actually even seen any of the other kids until they’d been rescued – but it’s not like he’s complaining. It’s nice to have someone that cares.

“Himiko-chan?” he asks, propping himself up on his elbows, and the sniffling from the other bed immediately stops.

“Sorry…” she hiccups, pulling her blanket tighter around her shoulders.

“It’s okay,” he whispers back, the utter quiet of the room making him hesitant to break it by speaking loudly. Getting down from his bed as quietly as possible, Tenko doesn’t bother putting on his slippers as he crosses the small space between their beds and clambers in beside her. “What’s wrong?” he asks, tugging at her shoulder so she’ll turn to face him.

She turns willingly, looking up at him through watery yellow eyes, the skin around them red from crying.

She’s quiet for a moment, refusing to speak, but when Tenko only continues to hold her gaze, she finally gives in with a whisper of, “Nightmares.”

“Oh,” he says, not sure how to react, how to make things better for her. So he just lies down beside her on top of the covers, and she shuffles over to make room.

“I’m scared,” she continues. “W-what if they find us again?”

“They won’t,” Tenko reassures, with a conviction he doesn’t feel. Though he knows in his mind that there’s no way the villains will get to them again, his heart is still scared. “They’re in jail, and anyways, the doctors and nurses here are heroes, you know.”

The last part is only half-true. The doctors and nurses don’t have full hero licenses, but they have been trained to protect their patients, and the hospital does employ a number of proper pro heroes to patrol the halls. The hospital they’re in is a special one, for victims of villain attacks, so security is tighter than a regular hospital.

“I know,” Himiko whispers back, “But I’m still scared.”

So Tenko stays with her, to help her feel more safe, and she’s out like a light within minutes.

Tenko, eyelids still heavy with sleep, ends up drifting off soon after she does.

And that’s how the two of them still are several hours later, when the sound of quiet conversation wakes Tenko up, and he opens his eyes to find a strange kid looming over his bed.

Startled, Tenko bolts upright in bed, bandaged hands raised in an effort to protect himself.

“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you!” the other kid immediately apologizes, backing off with an apologetic smile on his face.

There’s a deep silence between them then, the voices from before having cut off.

The other kid looks to be a couple of years younger than Tenko, cherubic cheeks dotted with freckles and messy green curls framing his face. His eyes are a bright green, with a spark of intelligence that makes him seem older than his years.

The boy opens his mouth to introduce himself, but before he can get a word out, the privacy curtain around the bed is opened (Tenko is sure they had left it open before they had fallen asleep), and both boys turn as All Might comes into view.

Tenko’s eyes light up in excitement when he sees his hero, and All Might smiles at him in greeting before turning disapproving eyes on the green-haired boy.

“Izuku, I thought I told you to let them sleep,” he chides, voice still gentle despite his words.

“I’m sorry,” the boy, Izuku, squeaks in a quiet voice. “I didn’t mean to wake them, honest! I was just curious to see Shi-Shimura-kun.”

All Might raises an eyebrow, skeptical.

“I don’t mind being woken up!” Tenko immediately pipes up, making sure to keep his voice quiet as to not wake up Himiko-chan, who hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before because of her nightmares.

Climbing quietly out of the bed, Tenko stands and bows to All Might.

“It’s good to see you again, All Might-san,” he says by way of greeting.

“I’m glad to see you’re doing well,” the hero replies, and as Tenko pulls out of his bow, he’s surprised to see the fond smile on the hero’s face.

Izuku stands next to All Might, smiling shyly back at Tenko.

“Now come along you two, let’s let Tenko’s roommate get her sleep, alright?” All Might says, gesturing both boys over. “There’s someone here who’s been looking forward to meeting you, Tenko.”

Tenko’s brows furrow in confusion, wondering who he could possibly mean. He follows All Might without protest, making sure to close the privacy curtain behind him.

They only go as far as the other side of the room, where two other adults are sat in a couple of chairs, watching them approach.

One of them is a nice-looking woman who looks a lot like Izuku, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out she’s his mother. She smiles sweetly at Tenko, so kind and motherly that it makes Tenko ache for a time long gone.

The other adult is a short old man with short grey hair and a neatly trimmed beard. His face is set in a severe expression, and he should look unfriendly, but there’s something reliable about him. He reminds Tenko of one of his favourite teachers from school.

“Tenko-kun, this is my fiancée, Midoriya Inko-san,” All Might introduces, gesturing to the woman, who bows her head slightly in greeting.

Tenko smiles and returns the bow, a little stunned to find out that All Might is engaged. Does that mean that Izuku is going to be All Might’s step-son?

“You’ve already met our son, Izuku,” All Might continues, gesturing towards the boy who had already scampered over to sit next to his mother. He leans into her side, clutching her hand with both of his, and though he smiles at Tenko, there’s something almost wary about it.

Before Tenko has much chance to wonder about that, All Might’s hand lands gently on his shoulder, turning him to face the old man.

“And this,” he says, his voice holding a weight to it that it hadn’t with the other two introductions, “Is Gran Torino. His wife, Shimura Nana-san, was your grandmother.”

Chapter Text

Tenko’s breath catches in his throat.

He can feel the eyes of All Might and his family focused on him, all of them waiting to see his reaction, but all he can think of is the little old man standing in front of him.

His family.

It’s been so long since he’s had family of any kind, and he’s so desperate to have that kind of connection, to finally belong somewhere.

He doesn’t even care that they’re not, technically, related.

Because once upon a time, this man had loved his grandmother, had possibly even helped raise Tenko’s father.

And he wouldn’t be here, with All Might, in this hospital room, if he didn’t at least care about Tenko’s well-being in some small way, right?

Tenko wants to step forward, to reach out, but he’s been pushed away so many times in his short life, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to stand it if this last small ray of hope is ripped away from him as well.

But Gran Torino smiles at him, just a slight upwards tilt of his lips, and his entire countenance changes.

“It’s good to meet you, Tenko-kun,” he says in a gruff voice that might be hiding tears.

Tenko can’t stop the sob that escapes his throat then, can’t stop himself from closing those last few steps between them and wrapping his arms around Gran Torino.

There’s a moment of hesitation, so brief Tenko almost doesn’t notice it, but then the hero’s arms come up around him, and there’s a small, distant part of Tenko that’s surprised at the strength in them.

But mostly, he’s focused on trying not to cry too loudly, lest he wake up Himiko-chan.

“There, there,” says Gran Torino awkwardly, as if he’s unused to comforting crying children. “It must have been very hard for you.”

He pauses again, then, after a few moments of deliberation, he says, “I am sorry, for not being there for you all this time,” and it rings truer than his previous platitudes.

Tenko shakes his head, still not letting go of the older man.

“You’re here now,” he sobs, and in that moment, that’s all that really matters.

There’s a soft exhale, and a tension he hadn’t even noticed loosens in Gran Torino.

When Himiko wakes up and finds herself alone in her hospital bed, she can’t help but panic.

Because she distinctly remembers falling asleep with Tenko-kun next to her, and even though she’s still in her own familiar hospital bed, she can’t help but think back to when she had been kidnapped by those scary men who had kept her in a dark room and hadn’t given her enough food or water.

Her breath is coming hard and fast, and she doesn’t notice the sound of the murmured conversation happening on the other side of her hospital room until she throws open her privacy curtain, and suddenly finds five pairs of eyes focused on her.

She stops short when she notices that one of them belongs to Tenko, and feels the worried knot in her chest loosen greatly. He’s sitting next to an older gentleman, and the skin around his eyes is red and raw from crying, and Himiko is so worried at the sight of it that she doesn’t notice the reactions of the others in the room when they see her face.

She doesn’t notice the way Izuku’s brilliant green eyes widen in alarm, the way his skin goes white as a sheet, the way his hand tightens around his mother’s arm. Inko’s brows knit together in confusion as she notices her son’s discomfort, but before she can ask him what’s wrong, All Might rises from his seat and steps in front of Izuku, using all seven feet of his considerable bulk to cut off his line of sight.

This, Himiko does notice.

And when she turns to see All Might standing only a stone’s throw away, she lets out a shriek of delight, and starts bouncing in excitement. Izuku flinches violently at the sound, his breath coming faster. Neither Tenko nor Himiko notice his reaction, hidden as he is behind All Might, but Gran Torino shoots him a concerned look.

“Oh my gosh, it’s All Might!” Himiko exclaims in her bubbly voice. “Look, Tenko-kun! All Might is in our room!”

All Might laughs, bold and bright, and only Gran Torino notices the stiffness of it.

“It’s good to see you recovering so well, young one!” All Might exclaims, moving forward to pat her on the head. “Has everything been okay with your stay so far?”

“Uh huh!” Himiko answers brightly, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Sometimes, I have nightmares, but Tenko-kun helps me out with them! He’s my best friend in the whole wide world!”

“Is that so?” asks All Might, beaming a happy smile at Tenko. “That’s very nice of you, Tenko-kun!”

Tenko ducks his head to hide the way his face flushes with pleasure.

With Himiko so busy babbling about how amazing her new friend is, and Tenko trying (unsuccessfully) to deflect all the praise, neither of them notice as Inko surreptitiously leads a very shaken up Izuku out of the room.

Gran Torino watches the two go, his gaze troubled.

Before he can think too long on it however, Tenko is introducing him to Himiko, and he has to pull his attention back to the conversation at hand.

And that’s the situation Present Mic stumbles into only a minute later.

The shy, withdrawn little girl that the nurses had described to him over the phone is nowhere to be seen, and in her place is a bubbly little blonde with doll-like features, giggling and bouncing all over the place as she talks to All Might and an older hero.

Mic adores her instantly.

Shouta is twenty-five years old, a grown adult long out of high school and a respectable hero in his own right.

No matter how old he gets though, being back in Principal Nedzu’s office and sitting across from him at his desk, he can’t help but feel like a student again, trying desperately to please the man he respects so much.

“Are you unhappy with your job?” asks Nedzu. He holds Shouta’s gaze with unblinking eyes and his voice is free of judgement.

“Not at all,” Shouta answers honestly. “It’s hard work, but it’s rewarding. It’s what I was born to do.”

Nedzu nods but doesn’t say anything, waiting for him to continue.

Shouta shrugs. “I wouldn’t give it up for the world,” he says. “But at the same time, I feel like I could be doing more. I…I want to help children, the same way you and all the other teachers at UA helped me. I want to give them the experience and training they need to be the heroes of tomorrow…I want to be a role model for kids who maybe don’t have flashy physical enhancement quirks, but want to be heroes anyways.”

‘Like me,’ he doesn’t say.

Nedzu smiles in approval.

“It won’t be easy,” he warns. “Especially if you want to keep being a hero.”

Shouta nods in acknowledgement. “I’m prepared.”

“You will have to earn your teaching license if your goal is to work at UA.”

Shouta nods again. “I am aware.”

Nedzu’s smile widens. “Well, as long as you’re ready to put in the hard work, I don’t see why this can’t work out. Seeing as you’re planning on becoming a heroics teacher, it should be a snap to get you on an accelerated three-year course, thanks to your extensive experience as a hero.”

Shouta’s eyes light up, and he bows his head in gratitude.

“I appreciate your help in this matter, Nedzu-sensei.”

Nedzu just laughs in response. “Don’t thank me just yet,” he says, leaning back in his chair and joining his hands in front of him. “There is one thing I’d like to ask of you in return.”

“Of course,” Shouta replies quickly. “If it’s within my power, I would be happy to help you out, sensei.”

“Well, a certain someone recently approached me, looking for a tutor for his son,” Nedzu explains, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “The child is being homeschooled, you see. He already has teachers for his regular lessons, but his father would like him to start learning the basics of heroics as well, to prepare him to attend UA in the future. The child is still young, so it would only be for a few hours a week.”