I should be alseep. It's fucking 12 AM and I've somehow crammed this out in less than a week motherfuck I need a nap.

School: You got exams next week, hope you prepared-

Me: I wrote fanfiction.

School: Wait no-!

Me: I wrote 10k of fanfiction. In three days.

School: You absolute problem child.

Warning: This story contains the pairing BakugoxIzuku. If you're not okay with same sex couples in your stories, then don't read this. Thank you!

Izuku never asks about his father.

He lives far away, his mother tells him in those rare moments they sit curled up together on the couch, drinking tea and watching a news section on All Might. He works a lot, he works abroad, he is very driven, he is busy-

Excuses, excuses.

But he doesn't try to refute her claims. Maybe it's the soft, wistful way she talks, or the sad gleam in her eyes -Izuku chooses not to press. He just accepts it, nods thoughtfully and distracts his mother by trying to play the All Might documentary they'd already watched a thousand times. Early on he learns that it's too much of a sensitive topic to approach for his mother, much like how Kacchan sneered and stomped his feet every time the incident with the log and the river was mentioned.

It's just another of those things he never dares to ask.

But that didn't mean he doesn't wonder .

Inko is a nurse. As good as she is and as stable as her work was, her measly salary wouldn't have been enough to maintain their two-story house in the suburbs, or pay all of Izuku's school needs in one go at the start of each semester. The boy is only six, but he already knows that something that wasn't adding up.

He's five when it happens.

Kacchan's Quirk stings against his skin. Izuku bends his head low and keeps it tucked behind his arm. It's a move learned from experience, shielding his face and chest from the barrage of small explosions. Yelping in pain at the heat licking at his arms, the green haired boy stumbles and falls over on his ass, yelping at the roughness of the sand against his skin.

Shakily, Izuku looks behind him. The kid that he'd stepped in front of had long run off, leaving him to deal with the explosive blond and his two sidekicks by himself. A small part of Izuku feels disappointed by the lack of solidarity from his classmate, but he doesn't blame him.

Given the thunderous expression on Kacchan, he'd run too if given the chance. The other boy looks almost feral when he shouts:

"Come on, you're not even a challenge anymore!" Katsuki informs him as he towers over his downed form. "If you're gonna step in, at least make a effort, Deku !"

Where are the teachers?! Izuku thinks a tiny bit hysterically, looking around. They were in a corner of the school yard, but they were still within eye distance of the two teachers. A quick glance at the school yard entrance told them they were milling around, taking care of the youngest kids. Oh, oh great.

Figures they were completely ignoring the trio of students tormenting another. It was happening with enough consistency that Izuku was starting to think they were doing it on purpose...that or Kacchan was timing his attacks precisely when they were busy.

Izuku wouldn't put it past him. His friend -was he one at this point- was pretty crafty when he wanted to.

The reminder makes Izuku bites back the tears. How did his relationship with Kacchan become this? As the older boy continues to shout in his face, Izuku closes his eyes and tries not to grimace. Knowing the other boy, without any sort of push back Kacchan was going tired of pushing him around and leave. Izuku just needed to bear it until then.

Still...why couldn't he have a Quirk? Kacchan had become more and more annoyed and aggressive with him ever since word of his diagnostic got out.

A explosion goes off in front of him, making him gasp sharply.

"Hey! I'm talking to you, or are your ears useless too?!" Katsuki growled, bumping his fists together to create another series of explosions. Too close, the fire from the blasts lick at Izuku's skin and makes him cry out fearfully.

Several things happened at once.

A weight he wasn't aware of snapped in his chest and suddenly Izuku feels hollow, like someone had taken a knife to his heart and carved out a space in his ribcage. He can't pause to contemplate this sensation however, as he hears Katsuki let a startled yell.

Izuku opens his eyes.

For a moment, the boy is unsure of what he sees. There's something standing there between himself and Kacchan, who had fallen on his back and now was staring at the object of the interruption with wide red eyes. Both his accolades had backed off, scared into a stupor.

There a small fire, drawing a line between the two boys.

Or at least, that's what Izuku thinks it is. Because instead of orange or red, the flames were a deep, smooth black, faintly peppered with white and purple hues. It twists and dances, licking at the ground yet not spreading any further from the initial line.

How…? The green haired boy breathes out gently, his chest feeling tighter and tighter the longer he gaped at the small bonfire keeping him separate from his fiery friend. It's Katsuki who speaks up, rising to his feet. When he speaks, he sounds dazed:

"Did you do that?" Izuku can't speak but he nods shakedly, unable to look away from the strange flames. Kacchan lets out a sharp breath. "Then it's-"

"My Quirk." Izuku breathes, excited. He feels a bit lightheaded, and there's a vacant sensation in his chest he can't explain. "I got my Quirk." He thinks he should be screaming, but he doesn't have enough oxygen in his lungs for it. He goes to stand up, but he feels shaky. Unbalanced. Lightheaded.

Of all things, it's a fire Quirk.

He should be happy. He should. Elemental Quirks were rare, flashy and highly prized. And it looks awesome and it is unique, perfect for hero work... but he can't help but feel troubled.

Because from what he'd read, this Quirk manifesting for him didn't make sense. It didn't match with his mom's ability to pull things towards her. Izuku had devoured enough books on Quirk to know that. A mind-based Quirk couldn't create a elemental Quirk, not unless it was a severe mutation...or the other parent had a similar Quirk to his own.

His thought process screeches to a halt.

Didn't...didn't his mom mention one time that his father could breathe fire?

So it comes from my dad! He thinks, the tension in his muscles easing at the realization. Still, how did a fire Quirk and a telekinesis Quirk make black flames?

They don't feel warm either, he wonders as he steps closer to the tiny kitten flames, which had now curled into a small bonfire. Instead of warmth however, he feels only a certain coolness emanating from the flames. It's not normal fire, but shouldn't it as least burn?

Tentatively, he reaches out to touch the fire with the tip of his fingers. Kacchan jolts at his side, ruby eyes widening. When he speaks, all of the previous frustrated anger in his tone is gone, replaced by mild panic and irritation. "Wait, Deku you moron don't-"

He reaches to yank his arm away, but he's not fast enough.

The green haired boy's hand goes right into the obsidian flames, unhurt. Katsuki goes abruptly silent, hand falling back to his side. The smaller boy doesn't pay him attention, too caught up with the sensation of fire dancing around his fingers, licking at them.

Izuku lets out a wheezing, giggling breath. Holy crap, I was right. His fingers wiggle experimentally.

It's not cold, nor warm. It just is .

So of course seeing his success, Kacchan tries to upstage him by sticking his entire hand into the fire.

"Argh!" His fingers are not even close enough to touch that the blond stumbles back into a yelp, clutching his right hand. "Dammit, that hurt!"

"Kacchan!" Izuku steps away from his creation, reaching out for the injured limb. Katsuki's skin was a bit red, thankfully the damage didn't seem that bad considering the burns his Explosion Quirk caused on a daily basis. "You're-"

"I'm fine !" Kacchan hisses but he's not, Izuku could see the corner of his red eyes were slightly wet. "It barely hurt, you dumb moron. Your fire ain't that strong."

"I'll call the teach-"

"Don't! I'm fine, you dumb weakling!" The older boy flails, voice rising to a screech.

Izuku glowers. "If I'm dumb," He starts slowly, then his voice rises. "...then why did you try to stick your hand inside?"

Kacchan squints, lips pursed. "You did it first." He accuses.

"Yeah, but it's my fire!" Izuku retorts with a pout. He knows it's not a logical argument, but it worked, didn't it?

"What does that even mean, Deku?!" Kacchan stomps his feet. "Fire is fire, you'd get burn either way!"

Why would you care? "But I didn't, did I?" Izuku retorts, more confident than ever. Surprisingly, his friend doesn't blow up at him. Instead Kacchan just scowls, crossing his arms and turning his head away.

It's then that Izuku notices a important detail.

Hfire wasn't dying out. It just stood there, not getting bigger or smaller. Flickering and twisting in the breeze, the sand under it slowly growing darker as it melted into a opaque substance. Izuku watches fascinated as glass bubbles pop and fizzle under the spectral fire.

"How is it even burning?" He mutters, ignoring how Kacchan tilts his head at him. He bows closer to the fire, feeling the faintest warmth emanating from the obsidian blaze. "There's no kindle, the sand's melting but that's not possible unless the temperature is really high...but its doesn't feel warm at all? How is it sustaining itself?"Did he just make a fire that breaks physics ?!

Izuku's head hurt trying to figure it out. He's confused. Fire didn't do that, and it shouldn't be able to sustain itself without proper fuel, which the sand was not. He looks down at his hands in wonder, recalling the strange sensation that washed over him when the fire manifested.

Was he sustaining it, somehow? It would explain the fire's survival despite the lack of fuel, but what was the cost?

"Oi Deku, how does this shit work?"

While Izuku was stuck with a meltdown, his friend had other plans than to just sit here and have a existential crisis.

"Kacchan," He squeaks, flailing his hands. "-don't do that! You're gonna get hurt!"

"Shut up Deku, this shit's awesome." Kacchan tells him dismissively as he pokes at the fire with a stick. The black fire sways more furiously, almost irritated. Purple, grey and pink hues flickers in the middle, mixing with the smooth, silky black. Strangely enough the branch doesn't catch on fire when it goes in and Izuku's brain splutters in a attempt to understand what is going on.

How could a fire burn and at the same time not?

This doesn't make any sense, the toddler thinks as Kacchan continues to harass the tiny bonfire. At least Kacchan seems to be enjoying it , he adds to himself. The blond seemed to be having the time of his life playing with fire. Who could have guessed that from the kid with the explosion Quirk.

He tries to ignore the warmth in his heart at his friend's awe. It's been a long time since Katsuki had spoken to him with any semblance of positivity. It feels demoralizing though that it's only due to his Quirk.

His weird, weird Quirk. Giddiness mixed with uneasiness at the thought.

"What's going on?" Izuku startles at the sound of his teacher's voice, Miss Asato. He yelps as he spins around to greet her, nearly falling over flat on his face in his panic. From the corner of his eyes, he watches as the obsidian flames sputters and grows a inch higher.

Something hollows in his chest.

"Teacher!" He exclaims, waving his arms at her. "My Quirk -the fire I made it but it's weird, look at the color I don't know what to do-"

His teacher laughs, waving him off. "That I can see," she tells him, patting his head. "What a strange Quirk, Izuku! Tell me, can you put it out?"

Izuku stares. Slowly, he turns his head to the fire and watches as Kacchan continues to harrass it. By now the other children were beginning to swarm around them, wide curious eyes shifting between Izuku and the flames. They're watching. Waiting for his reaction or another show of power.

He wilts, hunching over himself. He'd never had so many eyes on him before. Against his will, Izuku feels his cheeks redden.

"N-no." He informs her shamefully. Because he doesn't know, not really, he feels lost and hollow. Time's ticking however and they're all staring at him, waiting. He feels useless . "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Just stay here, alright honey? Don't do anything, I'll handle it." She informs him softly, smiling at him.

Don't make more. Unsaid but not unheard. She is trying to reassure him but its not working. He just got his Quirk and he can't control it. The shame curls deep in his gut. His ears burn with embarrassment as she turns away from him and yells to the second teacher, who's sitting by the school entrance watching on with curiosity.

"Hatsu, get the fire extinguisher. Katsuki, get away from the fire!"

The blond's answering screech makes Izuku wince. "Fuck that, it's fun!"

By the time the second teacher returns, Kacchan's hanging from under the first one's arm, scowling. The winged boy, Tsubasa, tries to grab the stick he'd dropped and resume the fire molestation, but he gets a stern reprimand.

Izuku just stands by the sidelines, useless. He hates it.

He wants to help, but he doesn't want to risk making more fires.

What if he accidentally set fire to a person? Icy dread curls in his chest. It definitely hurt Kacchan when he tried to touch it, what would happen a human caught fire? Would they burn like the sand? Would they be covered in flames and unable to put them out? The thought makes Izuku feel sick.

Suddenly the excitement that came with the manifestation of his power tapped off into dread. This was a weird Quirk, he repeats to himself.

This was a dangerous Quirk.

He watches from the sidelines as their second teacher returns, carrying the fire extinguisher. The woman sets Katsuki down with a stern warning before taking the item from her peer.

"Alright kids, stand back!" Miss Asato orders sharply as she yanks the extinguisher open, points it at the fire and lets out a stream of white solution onto the fire.

Izuku watches with a bit of sadness as the flames are smothered under the foam. Bye, weird Quirk , he thinks with a bit of silliness. You were cool while you lasted. Smoke curls from the top of the white foam.

Suddenly something tugs at his chest and Izuku can't help but wince, holding a hand against his heart. There it was again, that strange pressuring sensation from before. What was that? He wonders, eyes flicking to his torso.

Things weren't right. The green-haired boy looks back at the mass of foam, squinting -only for his to gasp as the foam-like solution darkens and parts, and the small fire is there in the middle of it, untouched. Same size and same density. Completely unharmed by the product that was supposed to put it out.

Izuku stares.

What.

He's not the only one. At the corner of his sight, he sees the other children take steps back and whisper among themselves. Kacchan is the only one who looks even remotely amused at this point, judging by the wild grin in his eyes. The female teacher, Asato, seems to be caught in a stupor, blinking at the impossibility standing in front of her.

Then she raises her hands and empties the entire extinguisher on the fire.

This time Izuku is aware of the nearly painful tug in his chest, and he cries out in warning:

"Miss Asato, the fire-"

The flames rise up with a roar , stretching several feet in the air. Purple and pink mix with the dense black, casting a strange grey light over the recess. A few children scream. The teachers scramble to get order back. Izuku could do nothing but stand in front of the fire, eyes wide as dancing tendrils of obsidian shrink back to their previous size.

No one dare to speak. Fearfully, Izuku risks a glance at Kacchan; the other boy is standing off to the side, eyes narrowed in contemplation. He's not smiling anymore. The flames cast soft blue-purple shadows on the curves of his face.

His friend-turned-bully's ruby eyes suddenly connect with his own, burning with their intensity and Izuku quickly looks away with a soft gasp, clutching the helm of his shirt tightly. Shame curls in his stomach.

"Teacher?" One of the students call out hesitantly.

"Hatsu," Miss Asato says, voice thick, completely ignoring the child. "...please call the fire department."

.

.

.

Standing precariously on their chairs, Kacchan and Izuku peaks through the classroom window as the fire truck arrive. He watches with wide, nervous eyes as his homeroom teacher anxiously waves the truck over. A tall man jumps out from the side door, dressed head to toe in a familiar firefighter uniform.

"Backdraft." Izuku murmurs in wonder. "He's here? I know he patrols near the school, but why call him for this? There's no need for his help here, not that its a bad thing, but isn't it a bit overk-"

"Deku." Kacchan growls at his side, eyes never straying from the scene. "Shut up."

Cheeks burning, he looks away. The demand is surprisingly tame coming from Katsuki, so Izuku doesn't reply in hopes of keeping the blond calm.

After speaking with the teacher in hush tones, the two kids watch in apprehensive silence as Backdraft approaches the tiny black bonfire. The pro-hero lifts one of his hands, points the bright red tap at the dancing flames and lets out a stream of water at it.

Izuku barely bites down a flinch as the hole in his chest caves in further, spreading. There was no doubt now that the fire and the feeling were connected. He squints and tries to ignore the pain, focusing on what was going outside.

Backdraft was almost clouded by steam; a shallow pool of water was around forming around him.

Still, if Izuku squints enough, he can see the fire, swirling and sputtering through Backdraft's attempts at putting it out. Struggling, but there.

It's not going away, Izuku thinks as the kids around him shout and whoop with excitement. Their teacher was trying to get order back but with a pro hero right outside, it was pointless. He might not be able to do it.

"What a strange Quirk, Izuku! Tell me, can you put it out?"

Could Izuku do it, instead?

He made it, didn't he? And the small black flames didn't hurt when he touched it.

He tries recalls the empty sensation he'd felt when he first created the flames, and each time they tried to put out the fire. It was stronger with Backdraft, a stretch of needle-like pain that bloomed across his chest and curled down his stomach, hollowing him out. Izuku fights to keep his breath even, each inhale becoming more and more work for him.

Reaching out with his mind, he pictures the fire in his head and curls around it. Izuku narrows his eyes as he feels it's presence, a mild warmth just far away that his mind could only brush against it. The sensation sends a shudder down his spine.

Still, he takes those few inches left, grabs the flames and pulls . Like a weight at the end of a elastic, he can feel the flames reel back, slotting into place in his chest.

Outside, the fire abruptly dies out. The melted sand, now a swirling mass of blackened glass, hisses and bubbles as water washes over it. Backdraft lets out a triumphant shout.

"Damn, that took a while for Backdraft to put it out!" Kacchan exclaims at his side, a sharp grin twisting his lips. He hasn't even noticed the palor of Izuku's face. "That's fuckin' awesome!"

Izuku can't breathe.

.

.

.

The rest of the day is cancelled.

When Izuku goes to school tomorrow, the other children give him a wide berth. Kacchan ignores him completely, staring ahead and following the teachers' instructions. He doesn't even push him around after classes end.

As for the teachers themselves, Izuku couldn't miss their furtive glances or the silent conversations they traded across the room when he entered...or the way they always have a phone on hand, as if they were ready to call the firefighters the moment he dared as much as sneeze.

He's unsure he prefers this to the bullying. It wasn't that dangerous... was it?

Then he thinks back to the way Backdraft had struggled to put it out, how the flames had died only after Izuku willed it. The reminder sends a chill down his spine, and he understands the staff's reaction a bit better.

His classmates' whispers follow Izuku all the way home.

.

.

.

Izuku listens from the balcony as his mother talks over the phone, her voice unexpectedly quiet.

It's a contrast of how she would normally behave, usually so full of life and expressive. Izuku is sent back to the times he would come home to see her talking on the phone with Bakugo Mitsuki. Her arms would flail around and she would walk up and down the hallway, gesturing as she spoke even if her friend could not see her.

This is different. The conversation is quiet. Hushed. Like she doesn't want him to listen on her conversation.

The young boy tears his gaze away from her, choosing to look at the garden.

I should be happy.

Breathing out carefully, Izuku slowly opened and closed his left hand, fingers slicing through the air softly.

I have a Quirk now.

Black flames twists and licks at the digits, tickling his skin. Izuku squinted, straining to maintain his focus. Emerald eyes followed closely the raven fire as it wiggled happily in the palm of his hand. Under the fire, Izuku's surroundings were lit in grey and purple hues.

Why aren't I? Kacchan's not bullying me anymore. The other kids aren't making fun of me now.

(They're scared.)

I have a strong Quirk, I can be a hero like I've always wanted.

He bites his lower lip. His hands curl into fists.

Then why am I not happy ? What's going on?

So caught up in his thoughts, his concentration lapsed.

Immediately the fire lashed out to the closest available target, attacking the small wilted rosebush Inko had been struggling to keep alive. The plant disintegrated into ashes -flower pot and all- before the young child could reel it back.

Defeated, Izuku leans back, closing his eyes as he lets the fire die out. The hollowness in his chest lessens. It doesn't hurt as much as the first time he'd used his Quirk, but he'd learned to cope with the pain. It's been present ever since his Quirk manifested.

It's like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop.

There's not enough air left in his lungs to sigh.

.

.

.

Four days later, Izuku comes home to a stranger standing in the kitchen.

He stops at the entrance of the room, yellow backpack slowly sliding off his shoulders as he stares up at the impossibly large man looking inside the small kitchen. His hair is a dark fiery red, and instead of a beard he had fire dancing on his skin.

His expression was less than friendly, closed and imperious. His blue eyes were colder than ice, scanning every inch of Izuku body and seemingly finding him lacking. The only reason Izuku's not rushing out of the kitchen was due to one Midoriya Inko standing next to the stranger, looking less than pleased but resigned.

"Izuku?" She calls him, beckoning him close. "Please take a seat, honey."

Green eyes dart around the room, alternating between his mother's reassuring smile and the scowling man. It takes a moment for Izuku to find his voice.

"What's going on?"

Who is he, mom? Why do you look so worried?

"Izuku." Inko tells him, firmer now. She nervously gestures the dinner table; Izuku notes the unlit candle and the water pitcher left there. "Sit. You're not in trouble."

That didn't mean something wasn't going on. Izuku hesitates for a moment, unsure of this development.

"O-okay…" He trots over to the dinner table and hops on the chair. Inko and the man stand on the other side; they don't even touch their chairs. "Mom, you're worrying me. What's going on?"

The smile his mother offers looks painful. "Izuku, I need you to use your Quirk."

He blinks, startled. Then his eyes shift back to the unlit candle. Oh . "But you said-"

Inko lifts a calming hand. "I know, I know but...he can help." She tilts her head at the scowling man.

"How?"

"His name is Enji. He's your father."

Izuku freezes.

The first thing he thinks, we look nothing alike. But then his eyes drift down from that cold, serious glare, down the sharp nose and at the little flames curling and twisting on the man's skin. Fire Quirk.

The flames weren't harming the man.

Just like his own.

There's a small, tiny part of him who is morbidly curious and wants to crawl over the table and touch them, to see if his father's fire doesn't hurt him either. Maybe it's only the creator that is immune? If I can somehow make someone else immune to the heat, it would be perfect for shielding civilians and caging villains-

"Izuku, I know you have questions, but...I need you to show him your Quirk."

For a moment Izuku sits there, perplexed. His mouth barely stays closed. He has questions, lots of them in fact, but the man had yet to speak to him and Izuku could tell he wasn't one for idle conversation. How had his mother fallen for someone this...this cold?

Why was he back now?

"Show him your Quirk."

Was it-

Had to be.

"Izuku?"

"It's okay," He breathes, voice tight.

He meets his father's gaze, this time holding the connection instead of looking away. The man's expression had yet to change.

Can't disappoint him, the boy thinks nervously. Taking a deep breath, he breathes out and reaches with his mind, just like he'd practiced when Inko wasn't looking.

A second later, a long, black tendril of fire bursts into life on the candle's tip.

The man moves for the first time, leaning closer to examine at the tiny candle and the long, flickering tongue of black fire. He picks up the candle, lifting it up to examine the strange colors dancing within the depth of the black flames. He tries to touch it, but senses the heat Izuku cannot feel and pulls away.

Then he drops the candle in the water pitcher.

Izuku jolts as the water churns and boils, steam rising to the surface. For a moment, the storm of bubbles makes it impossible to see anything through the glass.

CRASH

The vase violently explodes.

Water and glass shards splatter across the table. Inko cries out, startled. Izuku jumps and squints his eyes as his mother winces and shies away from the small rain.

In the middle of the chaos, the man doesn't react. His eyes are set on the candlestick at the bottom of what remains of the vase. The fire's still there, no smaller or bigger than before it was placed underwater.

Izuku holds his breath.

Silence.

Almost angrily the fire twists and splutters on the candle's tip; Izuku feels it's pull, the distant sense of longing and hunger that he'd come to associate with the strange flames. He fidgets in his seat, shoes barely scraping the floor.

After a while, the man finally speaks.

"So you were telling the truth." The man rumbles, eyes flicking from the fire to Inko. His mother looks even more nervous now, wriggling her hands together. Just what was going on? "Black flames, that never stopped burning until Backdraft interfered."

He knows about that?

"That's not true." Izuku couldn't help but blurt out, his voice barely cutting through the thick air. He squeaks as the man's blue eyes turn to him.

"Sit up." Izuku all but jolts up at the command, spine straight. "What did you say?"

"That's not t-true." He repeats, slower. "Backdraft didn't put it out. I...I willed it to go away." He looks down at his hands, the impossible weight of the man's glare choking him. "It kept burning until I w-wanted it to stop." To empathize this, he reaches out and curls his hand around the tip of the candle, ignoring Inko's choked warning.

Taking a deep breath, he recalls the image of his mind smothering the fire. When he opens his hand, all that remains is smoke and the whisk of the candle.

Enji hums. "You touched it," He says with unexpected softness, gaze pinning Izuku where he was. "...without being hurt."

Izuku nods. "I don't feel the heat. If anything," He swallows. "...it feels cold." Empty.

Both his mom and dad exchange glances.

"Izuku," Inko tells him, swallowing. "...go to your room."

In the end, Izuku doesn't listen to his mother.

He runs up the stairs to his room, but instead of entering he just closes the door. Heart pounding, he kneels down on the floor and sneaks back to the top of stairs, peering down at the hallway, ears straining.

They must have thought the closed door would have muffled their conversation. It doesn't take long for him to hear their voices:

"-mutation-"

"-only now you answer-"

"-no need before-"

"-you're his father-!"

Izuku all but shoves a fist into his mouth to keep himself from shouting and giving away his location.

"-and what, keep him here? There's already been a small piece on the incident at school, how long do you expect villains to stay away-"

"Enji please! I don't want my child in danger-"

"-danger to himself and others-"

"-offer compensation-"

"- he's not a object to sell-!"

Izuku's legs give out under him and he slowly slides down the wall and onto the floor. His father. That was his father down there and the way they were talking-

Was he really that dangerous?

There was another thing bothering him. Izuku had sworn he'd seen the red-headed man before, he had to. here was something tugging and scratching at the edge of his mind; he knows this man, Izuku is sure of it.

Maybe he was a pro hero? It would explain the muscle and where the funds came from, but which-

Wait.

Izuku freezes.

The fire Quirk, the reason of his father's return. The impossible physique. The beard made of fire.

It suddenly, painfully clicks, who the man in the kitchen is.

Endeavor.

.

.

.

The Bakugos are there when Inko sends him off.

Izuku stands by the sidewalk, stomach churning. He watches as Inko sobs into aunt Mitsuki's shoulder, too numb to call out for her in comfort. The blond woman is barely able to hold her up, much less console her. His mother looks like she'd aged twenty years in less than a week.

Shame pits in his belly.

I'm doing this to her.

The skies are dark and grey. It looks like it's about to rain.

They spent the whole of yesterday together sorting through his stuff and packing, trading stories and crying over what he couldn't bring with him. He's only allowed to take a single suitcase and a bag of belongings with him. The suitcase and the gym bag were by his side now, nearly taller than him.

It's mainly books, keepsakes and his collection of notebooks; according to his mother, he wouldn't need his old clothes. He didn't want to think of what that meant.

Izuku stares out into the distance.

Anytime now.

He can't breathe.

(The flames twist and dance in his gut, carving deeper into his flesh, a warning he can't decipher.)

"Oi." Izuku blinks, startled. He turns his head to the source of the sound.

Katsuki stands in front of him, hands tucked into his pockets.

"Hey, Kacchan." He greets, voice soft.

The other boy glowers in return. Izuku fidgets.

"What?"

"If Auntie and you don't want to do it, why the fuck are you moving?!" By the way Katsuki explodes at him, it's like he pulled the pin on a invisible grenade.

He fights back the wince. "I have to."

"Bullshit." Katsuki snarls, lifting his hands in the air. His palms were yellow-red with heat, but he doesn't aim them at the smaller child. Izuku's throat feels tight at the outrage in the other boy's voice. "They can't do that!"

"Yeah," Izuku says quietly, staring at his feet. "...my dad can."

Katsuki pauses. "Your dad, the deadbeat?"

"He's not a deadbeat," Izuku mutters under his breath, barely loud enough for Katsuki to frown at. "...he's been paying for the house and my school and now that my Quirk h-happened and its-" He stutters, hiccuping as he halts right before he nearly spills the beans.

Inko had made it expressly clear after Todoroki Eiji left their house to keep quiet. She had yet to answer a lot of questions, mainly how she'd somehow dated the number two hero of Japan. Her dodging had driven him mad, but he'd sensed in her voice how painful talking about it was, so he'd let it slip aside.

Izuku's shoulders slump.

Now she might never have the chance to do so.

(He can't breathe .)

"-he's taking me back."

"Aunt isn't going with you." The other kid guesses correctly. For once, there is no anger in Kacchan's voice, only quiet contemplation.

Izuku shakes his head. "N-no." He looks down at his right hand. He wiggles his fingers and wonder if he could let the restraint slacken for a smidget. Anything to ease the pressure growing in his stomach and head. "He wants me."

The blond's nose curls with disgust. "Shit father."

Endeavor's cold, calculating blue eyes flash to the front of his mind. Izuku closes his eyes and bites down on his tongue to stop the tears from falling. "I think he's one of those old traditional families." He informs his friend, aware that this might the last time they see each other. "I don't think he'd like having my mom around."

He barely seemed to tolerate me. Izuku wants to shout. He saw my Quirk and that's the only reason he even came to see me.

He feels no excitement from the fact he's going to go live with Endeavor, one of the most famous heroes in the world. Only dread.

Izuku didn't know what to expect when he got there.

"...and that makes it okay for you to leave Aunt Inko?" Kacchan presses, jabbing a finger into his chest. At the harsh touch on the painful area, Izuku couldn't stop himself from grimacing even if he tried. "Why don't you dosomething?! Are you okay with leaving your mom behind?"

The green haired boy flinches. "What -no!"

"Then kick and scream, you idiot! Don't just let your shitty dad take you, you useless moron!"

"You don't understand!" Izuku all but screams, voice quivering. "I have to!"

Kacchan rears back like a offended dragon. His hair gleams gold in the sunlight and Izuku's pinned in place by the intensity of his glare.

"Deku-"

"Katsuki." Inko suddenly interrupts behind them, voice wavering and tight with emotions. "Enough."

Izuku could only watch as his friend stomps to his mother's side. He tries to catch Katsuki's gaze, but the boy all but turns away from him. The frustration that surges up at the sight of the blond blocking him off in such a way makes Izuku want to stomp his feet and shout obscenities at him.

I don't want this! He wants to scream, but he swallows it down.

The sound of a approaching car draws him out of his daze. Izuku watches with mounting nerves as a sleek black car, almost as dark is his Quirk, makes it's way up the road and stops in front of them. It looks ridiculously out of place compared to the small compact houses and the old red car his mother uses to get to work.

A man steps out of the driver's side. He's not someone Izuku recognizes. After exchanging quiet words with Inko, the man reaches for his suitcase and bag and begins putting them in the trunk of the expensive car. He's detached and professional. Some sort of employee, Izuku guesses grimly.

Would he even meet his father again, or was he going to be relegated to people like this man?

Belongings taken, it leaves Izuku standing in the middle of the lawn, breathless and dizzy from nerves.

"Izuku?"

Green eyes blink. Inko. he turns to her, fighting the tears. "Kaa-san." He murmurs, lifting his arms out.

No more words needed to be exchanged as she sweeps him up into a tight embrace. It's okay though. It's not like Izuku could breathe well before his mother all but attempts to smoother him.

He tears himself away from Inko just in time to see Aunt Mitsuki all but shove Katsuki towards him. The explosive boy's expression is dark and unreadable.

"Kacchan," he whimpers softly as the emotions threaten to drown him, tiny hands balling to fists against the helm of his shirt.

"Go," Katsuki mutters with a glare. There's redness in the corners of his eyes. "...go home to your rich dad, shitty Deku."

Aunt Mitsuki hisses and tries to apologize, but Izuku turns away, tears dripping down his cheeks. His last hug with Inko was tight and drawn out, and he tries to ignore the muffled scream his mom lets out against his belly. His shirt is wet with tears.

(The flames roar, louder now, but he calms them with some struggle.)

The driver suddenly calls out behind them, slightly impatient. The meager gasps of air Izuku managed to take in leave him.

Time to go .

He beckons Izuku over and puts him into the car, making sure his seatbelt was on. Izuku does as asked obediently, his eyes never straying from his mother or the Bakugos. Inko looks like she's about to collapse, and it hurts to see her so fragile.

As for his friend...from the looks of things Kacchan was still outraged with him, standing between his parents with his arms crossed. As the driver steps fully out of his line of sight, their eyes meet again. Izuku's green eyes were watery, vulnerable and searching.

Don't just let me go, Izuku thinks frantically. I never wanted you to be angry with me. I'm sorry.

Something softens in Katsuki's scarlet eyes, then his eyes suddenly widen, the last of his anger dripping away as if he was suddenly very aware that this could be the last time they ever see each other.

Previous conflict seemingly forgotten, Izuku watches as he takes a step forward, opening his mouth to speak-

But the car door abruptly slams closed between them with the finality of a funeral bell.

.

.

.

As the car pulls away, the first droplets of water start hitting the windows. The skies part and bring down great torrents of rain, creating a soft melody as the water collides with the car. The wind howls furiously against the metal shell of the vehicle.

The insides were cold and detached. There was a barrier separating him from the driver. The glass was foggy and he couldn't see outside.

There's nobody here but Izuku and the rain.

This was it.

Izuku curls up on the leather seat, bringing his legs against his chest. His heart pounds wildly in his chest, threatening to burst out of it's confines. Now alone, he gives in to the urge to clamps his hands over his ears and closes his eyes tightly, trying to shut this whole nightmare of a week out.

But he can't, because this was life now.

This was his reality.

Izuku doesn't have enough air left in his lungs to scream.