Day 5 (20/9) - Challenge - Parenthood - Magic


'Izuku? Izuku!'

His mother's voice is like a bell, it rings out through his memories with a warmth Izuku will never forget.

'Izuku? Come save me!'

Her eyes, peeking out of a duvet. Her arms welcoming him in when he wants to fly. Her quirk, with its magical pull, dragging at his hoodie when he's about to fall from her grip.

'Super!' she croons after him, as he yells, pushing him above her head. He is small then, small enough for her to keep safe.

And then one day, one day when he outgrows her, shooting up above the line of her head, he realises that she is still big enough to stop him.

'No,' she tells All Might, and tells him, Izuku, the one she apologised to for not being able to say the words All Might had given him so freely, the day he and Kacchan had been wrapped in sludge and almost lost their lives because of it.

'No,' she says, loud and firm. 'I won't let Izuku be a hero at U.A.'

Nothing he says after that can get her to budge.


He is lucky, he supposes that U.A. is willing to get him a recommendation. Lucky that there are schools out there who are willing to give him a shot. The big famous ones won't take him. But a small one, near where Gran Torino lives, is willing to give him a chance.

'You can still enter the Provisional License exam independently, so long as you get permission,' All Might advises him. Then he smiles, long and slow and sad. And Izuku feels a lump almost tear his throat in two, as he remembers hugging this man, clutching at his thin rake-like shape at the back, and wailing into his shirt. 'You are still too reliant on me. Perhaps, after all, some good can come of this decision your mother has made.' Then he leans forward, tapping on Izuku's arms. 'I don't want to see you break these again, young man, no matter what.' A stray eye, sharp and blue, focuses on Izuku's legs for a quick moment. 'Think on it.'

Izuku does. Truly. He does. But it's not until Iida and Uraraka come round a day later, that the spark of an idea catches hold of him. They are quiet and respectful the whole time, that fragile afternoon, accepting his mother's microwaved taiyaki with stilted smiles and firm hands, knowing better than to try and change her mind. That does not stop Uraraka from being on the verge of tears however, as she bites into the sweet red-bean filling and smears her tongue with its juice. She looks up, eyes glimmering like jewels caught in water, all so she can pat him on the shoulder as cheerfully as she can manage.

'You're going to be a great hero, Deku!' she exclaims after she chokes down her mouthful. 'I know it! I'll see you out there in the field when we make it as pros!'

Izuku swallows. It doesn't feel right. But Iida nods.

'I won't lose to you, Midoriya,' he states gravelly. 'Just as I know you won't lose to this drawback; still, we must respect your mother's concerns.'

Izuku watches them walk away afterwards, watches how Uraraka hesitates at the door, like she can't quite take that step across the threshold.

'Deku-kun!' she says suddenly, his name exploding from her mouth like an outburst. She spins, and Izuku sees the desperate shine in her eyes again, like this means everything to her. 'I know you're going to keep moving forward! You're always the first one of us to step forward, even back at the entrance exam! You were the only one who came running for me, back then…' she looks down, twiddles with her hair nervously. 'And…and…one day I'll catch up to you! On my own two feet!' she nods decisively and Izuku watches her go, heart in his mouth. Her legs are wobbly, but the steps she takes are firm, even if her hands rush up to clutch at her cheeks in embarrassment.

Izuku is frozen then, watching her until she disappears, before his eyes travel down slowly to his feet. His feet…

It figures that once again, a few words from Uraraka can make his mind switch, change track, and see the world anew. Just like magic.


The school he is at, has no major Support Department. But Gran Torino, who keep popping his head in, after bullying his way in to becoming a supervisory teacher (honestly, Izuku isn't surprised; he's yet to find anyone who can say 'no' to the old man and remain standing afterwards) reaches out to the company who helped install him with his propulsion-aiding boots.

'Trust me, kid, it's not a handout,' he says over Izuku's protests. 'It's a necessity.'

Izuku gives up, after trying on the long armoured boots for the first time; perhaps they're not of the same quality as the ones he might have got at U.A., but they manage not to clash with his costume, comprising of a relatively sleek ebony-green, and the soles, he finds, as he runs a careful hand over them, are made of some hardened and tempered steel the company has been experimenting with recently. Out on the battlefield later, he finds they snap under his feet like bullets when he kicks, and the kids he's up against at school grimace and brace against them the first time they fight. Most of them aren't on the level as class 1A, though there are a few outliers, and two of them have some impressive quirks that Izuku privately thinks are deserving of better counseling that the sort they're receiving here.

Still, after smashing and kicking whatever comes flying his way, Izuku thinks he's on the right track. Well. Almost.

'Not bad,' Gran Torino sniffs as they both stumble over the rocky outfields of the school's training area that afternoon; it's smaller and less diverse that U.A.s but still, a valuable place to train.

Izuku looks up at him with a gasp, sweat clouding his brow, and making a swamp out of his hair. He's exhausted. But Gran Torino simply leans towards him with a grin. A grin All Might probably grew to fear.

'Now then, Deku. Do it again. And keep at it, until you can actually land two hits on me.'


And then he gets the call. All Might. In the hospital. The phone trembles in his grip. It remains there, even as he races all the way back to the white building in another city, evens as he waits on the train for an ungodly amount of time beforehand.

And...All Might. He looks impossibly small when Izuku gets there, buried under white sheets, his back braced by plaster, and his arms hooked up in a cast. Blood dribbles from his mouth as he speaks, and his eyes, when he stares at Izuku, have this lost look, made almost lucid by the painkillers flooding his system.

'I was lucky,' he says gravely. 'Lucky. Aizawa yanked me out of the way mostly; he just wasn't quite fast enough to save all of me.' he coughs, then with a bitter expression on his face says, 'don't worry. This was a hard lesson from me to learn, but I've learnt it. I'll be more aware of my surroundings now. I'm sorry to make you worry, my boy.'

Izuku reaches out and with a trembling hand, grips one of All Might's which remains resolutely still, held in place by the mountain of bandages wrapped over and around it.

All Might sends him a fond look. 'Young Midoriya. I need you to do me a favor…'


Izuku finds Kacchan at the familiar U.A. training grounds, the frustration buried so deeply on his face that it almost hurts. Almost. Izuku reminds himself that All Might is in worse pain. Physically at least. The pain and guilt Kacchan feels…well. Izuku wants to heal it. But he also thinks Kacchan needs to feel it a little more, before he can let it go.

'Kacchan,' he says, and the other boy whirls round to see him, shock and surprise fading into disgruntle anger.

'The hell are you doing here, after you rejected U.A.!?' he growls, low and heavy, and Izuku frowns, because there's something wrong with Kacchan's anger here. There's no feverous heat behind it, and his eyes, when they look at Izuku, seem dead.

'I didn't reject U.A., my Mom did,' he replies stoutly, as he feels the distinction is important to make; he doesn't want anyone to feel as though they've been abandoned. But still, something flashes through Kacchan's eyes at Izuku's words, and his shoulders hunch as though bracing for the recoil of an explosion.

'Huh. She's got more sense then you then.' And before Izuku can wonder at what he means by that, Kacchan marches up to him. 'Doesn't answer the question though. Now: for the last time: what are you doing here, Deku?'

Izuku looks at him, sees the strange, cold, almost clinical anger in his eyes, and takes a breath. 'You haven't been to see All Might,' he says in a rush, wincing as he sees whatever emotion animating Kacchan rapidly leave his face, swimming out of his eyes before they have time to glare. His red eyes look almost grey at this angle, and Izuku takes another breath. 'He wants you to come see him. But if you really don't want to… he wants me to tell you that his words from back at the…accident haven't changed. It's not your fault.'

Kacchan trembles. 'Not my fault?' he whispers. 'Not my FAULT!' he whirls round and sends a heated punch into the air, rocky debris flooding out into ashes on a wave of orange heat. 'DAMN IT! OF COURSE IT WAS MY FAULT! WAS THERE ANYONE ELSE EXPLODING ROCKS UP THERE?! NO?! THEN WHO ELSE SHOULD TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR IT!'

'He said you were practising an ultimate move and he got too close; that he should have been more aware of his…condition,' Izuku near-whispers.

Kacchan's shoulders tremble even more violently. 'And you, his little messenger boy, came out to reassure me with a lie? Well, isn't that touching?' He aims a violent look at Deku. 'You must feel mighty pleased with yourself, huh, Deku?'

Izuku feels something swell up in him at that.

'GET A GRIP!' he yells back. 'ALL MIGHT'S HURTING FAR WORSE THAN THIS AND FOR FAR LONGER THAN YOU AND EVERYBODY ELSE THINK-' he slams his mouth shut, because he's remembering slightly, than although All Might's condition is known, he hasn't published how long it's lasted, or what caused it in the first place. And Kacchan is smart. He's already looking at Izuku as though the gears are falling into place. Izuku breathes out. Smooths out the hands that have inadvertently turned into fists. 'Kacchan,' he says. 'I don't care if you hate me even more for this; but I'm glad this happened. Because if it had happened anywhere else, at a training field not monitored by Aizawa-sensei, or out there, because of a villain, All Might wouldn't be in the hospital. He'd be dead. And neither you or I want that to happen.'

He turns. Turns and walks away. And ignores the screech he hears behind him, or the explosions that blare their heat at his retreating back. He feels like a coward, like his heart's been plucked out. And he's not entirely sure why.


'Izuku, Izuku,' he hears his dreams call that night. 'Why can't you do it, Izuku?'

The voice that calls his name does not ring like a bell; it caws, loud and grating, like a crow's. Four year old Kacchan's voice, before his brain preyed upon the characters in Izuku's name and made a mockery of it, creating the 'Deku' Izuku now wants to wear with pride.

He wakes, startled by this dream that imitates a memory so well, and wonders what a sixteen year old Kacchan's voice would sound like, after it calls him by the name it likes to forget exists.

Gruffier. Angrier. Izuku clutches his sheets and turns his mind away, wondering how they differ from the ones in the dorms his former classmates now inhabit.

He doesn't want to think about the fact that Kacchan still sounds like he needs to be saved. No, right now he needs to focus on winning.


Notes: Can you tell I'm running out of imagination yet? I can.