Chapter Text
When Izuku wakes, it takes awhile for him to realize his thoughts match the slow, even pace of his beating heart. A soft thump against the back of his head–accompanied by a meow–and the words are brought to him with the clarity of the cat’s blue eyes when he turns around.
He didn’t have a nightmare.
“That’s a first…” The cat rubs itself against his hands, and he has half a mind to chastise himself when he pets its head as gently as he can. He knows he shouldn’t get close to other living beings, but the warmth radiating from the cat spreads to his chest, and he finds himself giving in just as easily as the night before. “I guess I have you to thank for that.”
A deep voice cuts through the quiet of the morning. “I see you’re awake.” Izuku tenses, but when he looks up to find Aizawa leaning against the doorframe, eyes locked on the purring cat, he finds himself breathing a sigh of relief. “Yuki’s taken quite a liking to you.”
Izuku glances back at the cat. “Is that her name?”
“Yes.” The quiet creak of the wood tells Izuku that Aizawa’s straightened himself from his slumped position. “What do you want for lunch?”
“...Lunch?” The word barely escapes him, dry and uncertain. His shoulders go rigid. The normalcy of it makes nerves flare and his mind halt. How can Aizawa ask him so lightly? Did last night not happen? Did none of it happen?
A slow, gnawing dread curls in his gut. He lifts his eyes, just for a second, only to drop them again when he meets Aizawa’s gaze—steady, unreadable, and far too calm.
Aizawa’s quiet for a moment before he replies, “You slept for 10 hours….You skipped breakfast.” When Izuku doesn’t react, he continues, “So, what do you want for lunch?”
Izuku doesn’t know whether to be happy or mad, but he knows what he has to do.
He gets up, Yuki jumping off the bed and rubbing herself against his leg as she follows him.
“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
---
Izuku’s stomach churns in disgust after lunch: ramen noodle soup with boiled eggs. Naturally, he didn’t eat a lot, opting instead for kitten bites—a thought that suits the cat that had laid on his lap the entire time–but Aizawa didn’t comment on it. Izuku wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.
With Aizawa’s watchful, deadly eyes, Izuku doesn’t have the time to empty out the poison from his system—but the blood had bought him time, he just doesn’t know how much is left.
When they close the door quickly so that Yuki doesn’t escape, they can hear her scratching the wood and yowling in protest. “Is she okay?” Izuku asks after Aizawa locks it.
“She’ll be fine. She used to do this when I first got her, but she’s got the other cats to keep her company. I’m more surprised she likes you this much.”
“I didn’t think about that…” Aizawa steps aside, motioning for Izuku to follow him toward the gravel path that winds back to the main school building. Izuku’s sleeve bunches in his fist as he tugs at the fabric. “The other cats,” he mutters, almost to himself, before glancing up. “T-that reminds me… do you still have Shiro?”
Aizawa doesn’t pause as he walks, but Izuku sees Aizawa's head shift a little more to the right from the corner of his eye. “Shiro?”
“Y-yes. My…my Eraserhead has a cat named Shiro. He actually has two cats: Shiro and Kuro. He told me about Shiro’s health right before I…” Izuku’s mouth grew dry, and it wasn’t only his stomach hurting now. Izuku’s hands tightened into fists.
“Those are terrible names,” Aizawa replies flatly. “I’m assuming they’re white and black?”
When Izuku nodded, Aizawa sighed, spiking his anxiety. Izuku spoke up quickly, “I-I guess Present Mic named them?”
Aizawa stifles a mortified groan. “Damn right. I would never burden a cat with such an unoriginal, thoughtless name.”
Izuku kicked a pebble away. “W-well…uhm… why did you give Yuki her name?”
“I found her in the snow.” Aizawa takes a moment to reminisce. “She was bleeding badly, unconscious. She’s lucky she has black fur, or else I might not have noticed. Anyway, that day, the police and I had raided a house we’d suspected was related to a human trafficking ring.” Aizawa’s voice deepens with hatred, it gravels the edge to his words. “The owners were just as cruel to animals as they were to people.”
There’s a moment of quiet Izuku’s too scared to fill. So he waits. He’s close enough to Aizawa that he can faintly hear his beating heart and his even breathing. When a downward wind lets him catch Aizawa’s scent, a mixture of the warm herbs used in curry and the earthiness of his morning coffee, a slight tremor runs through his body. His stomach starts to ache, and all Izuku can do is clench his muscles and force it back down. He needs to think of something else. He needs–
Two birds fly by, racing and dancing alongside each other in the wind. Birds! Think about birds! Their songs are identical to the first ever he heard here, laying bleeding on the dirt. Izuku’s mind drifts to the slight confusion on Aizawa’s face when he had gone to him afterwards, the immediate pain that followed familiar–
Aizawa sighs. “All four of my cats have been abused; it’s why they’re so skittish. It’s not rational for me to have pets–I just don’t have the time to give them the life and attention they deserve–so I’m fostering them.” Izuku looks to his left. Aizawa's face is grim as they walk closer to the concrete pavement surrounding the school building. “But the snow’s not why I named her Yuki. Well, at least not the only reason. I used the kanji for ‘happiness’ to give her something she never got from people. It’s why I was so surprised to see her purring in your arms. She never lets anyone else besides me get close to her, let alone to touch her.”
Izuku clenches his hands and remembers the blood that’s coated them more often than he can remember–the bits of fat and muscle that cling under his nails every time he forgets to cut them short for too long. “...Why me?”
They arrive at the building, and Aizawa steps through the automatic doors, looking back towards Izuku. Izuku’s mind supplies him with countless reasons why Aizawa would look at Izuku after turning his back to him–mainly in order to make sure he doesn’t run off–but for some reason, none of them fit.
Aizawa doesn’t smile, and yet his eyes grow softer when he says:
“Maybe she knows you need it.”
---
The ceramic tea cup clinks as Nezu places it gently on the platter in his hand—paws? “It’s good to see you again, Mikumo-kun. Please, do come in.”
Izuku swallows as he and Aizawa step inside the Principal’s office. Back in his world, this usually spelled doom for him, and Izuku can’t shake the feeling something’s going to go wrong. Teachers never liked him, and to the principal of Aldera High, he was an eyesore best dealt with quickly. The admonishing look filled with disdain as the Principal told Izuku and his mother the consequences of his actions—the monetary compensation to the school for any and all damages the fire caused in the lab–almost made him want to rip open his cast and scratch the healing skin until the strings of meat were once again removed from his bone like the fire that didn’t finish the job. When his mother broke down in the quiet of her own bedroom, he very nearly did. It was only the thought that he could not professionally wrap his cast himself that kept him from doing so, although he punished himself nevertheless. It did not matter that he wasn’t responsible for the fire. It never did.
And now, he was responsible, and Izuku did not know what to fear.
Once inside, he bows, “It’s nice to see you too, Principal Nezu.”
The bear-dog-rat chuckles, waving away his greeting. “You don’t have to lie, I can see how tense you are. In fact, I’d prefer it if you were completely honest with me.”
Izuku swallows. Right.
Nezu gestures at the couch across from him. In between the two couches, there is a low table with two cups, a teapot, a small, circular object and four metal bracelets. Two of the bracelets are thicker than handcuffs, while the other half is much thinner and could be mistaken for bangles. The thick cuffs look like some kind of quirk suppressant bracelet—and Izuku knows he’ll be wearing all four.
“Would you like some tea?” Nezu asks once they’ve sat down. Izuku shakes his head.
“No thanks,” Aizawa replies. “I had coffee.”
Nezu hums thoughtfully and asks, “Have you eaten breakfast too?”
Again, the underground hero answers curtly, “We have.”
The Principal is silent for a moment. Izuku doesn’t think he’s imagining the way Nezu eyes him like he sees right through him. His skin crawls. Izuku’s hands clench, averting his gaze. “I’ll get straight to the point, then. Izuku-kun?” Izuku meets his steady gaze once more, and when he does, Nezu bows his head. “I must apologize for any and all pain you’ve incurred under my supervision.”
“I-it’s alright!” Izuku frantically waves his hands about. “It was mostly my fault things happened the way they did.”
The teachers are silent, and Izuku can feel Aizawa’s eyes digging holes into him from the side, keeping Izuku on edge.
Nezu clears his throat. “I wasn’t lying when I said I’d prefer an honest conversation. Now, as I’m sure you suspect, I have been made aware of the incident late last night, and consequently the dietary needs necessary to fuel your regeneration. Additionally, this information has been shared with the rest of the staff, but will otherwise be kept confidential. You can be rest assured that arrangements have been made by Recovery Girl to ethically source blood, however, you will have to go to her office to test out which one works for you. Any questions?”
Izuku shakes his head, dread filling his veins at the thought that so many people knew about what happened. ‘I can’t let people know I’m a monst-’
“There is no need to hide things from us, Izuku-kun. We are only trying to help and protect you. Could you elaborate on how your quirk affects your diet? It is imperative that Recovery Girl provide you with the correct amount. Do you only need blood to supplement it? Is it only necessary when using regeneration?” His beady eyes scan Izuku’s gaunt face, flicking down to his thin fingers—the only parts of him not covered by multiple layers of clothing. The pit that had been forming behind his chest falls to his gut. Nezu continues in a dark, thoughtful voice, “Or has it replaced your diet entirely?”
The question steals the air from his lungs. Izuku bites his lips. “Partially,” he breathes out the lie as convincingly as he can, but the Principal’s black, unflinching eyes don’t give anything away., “I can still eat human food.”
He bites his tongue too late. The long slivers of ramen twist and turn like worms in his stomach as soon as the last word leaves his mouth. The slight taste of bile reaches his tongue, but he swallows it down with a muffled cough. Nezu merely hums in thought. He knows…
“Thank you for answering.” Nezu says evenly, black, beady eyes not giving anything away. “Please come to my office everyday after class.” At Izuku’s flinch, Nezu softens his tone, “This isn’t a punishment, Izuku-kun, merely extra guidance.”
“I think Akatani needs to see Hound Dog as well,” Aizawa cuts in, eyes to the Principal as he makes his request.
Izuku, confused as to why he needed to meet with a specific hero, looks at the underground hero. “Hound Dog?”
“He’s our school therapist,” Nezu explains. The dread continues to build. “And I must agree with Shouta-kun. I’ll schedule one before our meeting for tomorrow. As for the main reason I called you two here—” He gestured at the four cuffs “—these are wrist and ankle bracelets we’ll unfortunately have to require you to wear, Izuku-kun. They contain electromagnets that can be turned on and off by the circular switch. When you wear this device, you must stay within 10 metres of Eraserhead.”
Izuku fists his hoodie, swallowing. This is for the best. “I understand.”
Nezu sighs. “I’m sorry, Izuku-kun. I detest having to leash a child, let alone one that has no one else they can trust. I’m only doing this to prevent another disastrous event such as the one from yesterday.”
“It’s okay.” Izuku shakes his head. “This is for the best.”
“Izuku-kun.” Nezu’s sharp voice snaps Izuku’s head up. The Principal’s face and posture are no less serious, but his voice takes a soft edge, although subtle, when he continues. “I want you to know your quirk does not make you a monster. I understand you might have a hard time believing that, but you could not control what your quirk is.” He rests a paw against his chest. “I am an animal—a chimera—with a quirk. This phenomenon is incredibly rare, but in addition to that, my quirk grants me superior intelligence to that of humans. Humans fear what they don’t understand and hate what they can’t conquer–so they tried. I was tortured and experimented on, treated like a monster, all because I possessed something I could not control having.”
“I…I’m sorry.” Izuku’s eyes traced the scar on Nezu’s face, one he didn’t stop to think about before. “I didn’t know…”
“It’s quite alright, it is not you who has to apologize.” Nezu raises his cup, taking a sip. “My point is, just as I could choose what to do, so can you. I believe it is the choices made with any given ability, whether good or bad, that make the character. Not the other way around. To that end, I’m intent on helping you on the right path.”
Would he still think the same if he knew? “Thanks…” Izuku casts his gaze back down, away from those piercing black eyes. His fists grow tight around the fabric of his pants. Nezu doesn’t know it’s already too late.
“Thank you for listening, Izuku-kun.” When Izuku glances back up, there’s a small smile on Nezu’s face, but his eyes glint with curiosity and what Izuku could have mistaken for worry. He’s probably imagining it. “Unfortunately, I must inform you of something else as well.” Nezu glances at Aizawa before continuing. “We were unsuccessful in acquiring the name of the man who matches your physical and quirk description.”
“So… “ Izuku can feel his eyes burn, but he doesn’t cry. Not again. His fists tremble in his lap instead. “Does that mean I can’t go home?”
“The raid itself was a success–we apprehended Osamu Tanaka.” Aizawa rubs his temples, “But when interrogated he claimed not to know the man responsible for your predicament.”
Izuku hid his face in his hands. “In other words, the only lead we had is dead.”
“The investigation will continue, so we’re hoping the other drug mules know the Worlshifter’s identity.” Izuku knows Nezu is trying to cheer him up, but Nezu’s quirk doesn’t let him believe in chance, and so Izuku doesn’t believe his words any more than he does. Nezu sighs. “I’m sorry Izuku-kun, I promised you something I couldn’t guarantee. UA will continue to support you as best we can.”
Izuku wants to scoff, but instead, he pulls at a hangnail. He doesn’t feel anything when a little dot of red gets revealed once he’s gone too far back—hidden under his constant aches and the ever present sharp pain from his stomach—but the very faint, almost nothing smell of blood is enough to bite back any reaction on his face. Izuku has heard those words a million times, from people he trusted, to people he never would—and nothing ever changed. “Thanks…” Izuku mumbles.
Nezu’s silence is stifling, and quiet—distinct from the silence of the teachers and principal back at Aldera High. When Izuku’s eyes rise, tentatively, curiously, Nezu’s observing him once more. “While UA works with the police on finding the Worldshifter, I propose you join Aizawa’s homeroom class with their training,” Nezu began. “I regret being unable to fully continue your education by enrolling you temporarily—this was the best solution available. Shouta and I could give you additional schooling if you so choose; however I understand if you’re less than inclined considering your situation. In any event, you might find you enjoy heroics more than you thought you would.”
Izuku nods without a word, bringing a bitten-short nail to the pindrop of blood forming in the crevice of his peeled skin. He digs into it, but all he can feel is the pressure; no pain. The room is quiet enough that Izuku can once again hear the steady beating of Aizawa’s heart, sitting next to him as he is. It makes him feel more acutely the thumping in his own chest—it flares in pain every so often, like a pinched nerve under your ribs not letting you breathe. His heartbeat is faster and frantic—like he is; it skips and it tumbles. They beat out of sync.
The clink of Nezu placing an empty tea cup on the low table pulls him out of his thoughts. Once Nezu’s back sitting neatly on the couch, the Principal spares him a look. “Izuku, I may not be able to offer a solution immediately, but I do know someone who might possibly give you another one, albeit for the distant future. Do you care to listen?”
Izuku rubs his neck. “I don’t really have a choice.”
“You always have a choice,” Nezu stated seriously.
“Then…” Izuku felt their eyes. He always felt their eyes, and his voice usually faded with it. “T-then, I want to know.”
Nezu smiled, not politely nor mischievously, but genuine. “His name is David Shield–”
“A-All Might’s sidekick?” He cuts in, surprised.
“Yes, his former sidekick. Currently, he’s a genius scientist focusing on support gear.” Nezu lets out a good-humored chuckle. “Still a fanboy, even in another world?”
“N-no.” Izuku’s face goes warm. He thinks of the All Might of this world and remembers his own. His love for the hero was from a distant past—forgotten, replaced with fear. Now, he doesn’t know what to think of the imposing figure he was actively avoiding only a few days ago, yet still the sentiment, as innocuous as it is, leaves something deeply uncomfortable weighing in his chest. “...I knew that.”
Nezu hums. “David Shield might be able to create technology capable of traveling dimensions, but that is something more likely to happen in the far future. A more realistic recourse is applied support gear in the creation of a wormhole, or accessing and traversing the quantum realm for temporal and dimensional travel. Before, with humanity’s vast but limited accumulated knowledge, I had concluded this to be unfeasible. Now however, I have been proven wrong for the first time in great a many years, and you might yet provide the answer.” Nezu lifts a paw from where they had been resting neatly on his lap, and gestures to Aizawa. “With our students away on their work-studies, I do believe you have 2 days off next weekend, Shouta-kun?”
“That is correct.” Aizawa sighs.
Nezu looks back at Izuku. “Would you like to go on a trip to I-Island?”
The poor boy's going through a rough time, but things always get worse before they get better :)