43. Fatherly Figure

The silence was deafening, Izuku's smile frozen on his face, Toshinori equally as frozen opposite him. Very abruptly, Izuku wished the floor would swallow him up. Anything to take him away from the fact he'd just called Toshinori, All-Might, dad.

"Izuku," Toshinori began.

"Oh, noooo," Izuku whispered back, with feeling, and abruptly began to backpedal, the question he'd absentmindedly asked, endearment attached, already forgotten. What he had asked, nobody knows. He certainly didn't.

Secretly, he wondered if he could viably live in a hole for the rest of his life, but Toshinori was still speaking, a hand reaching out.

The window is looking like a good escape option to flee the embarrassment. Izuku could survive the fall, he'd fallen further, he's sure.

" – and I'm glad you think so fondly of me, slip of the tongue or no," was what Izuku caught when his mind stopped whirling, a tentative hand resting on his shoulder.

"I didn't mean to," Izuku mumbled, mortified. He picked the noble option, the one to stay and deal with his fate.

"I'm not going to lie," Toshinori began. "I don't have any children, a son or no. But I do believe you are the closest thing I have so far. I'm quite fond of you too, you know. It's mutual. I would be proud if you were my son."

Izuku took a few moments to process the words, the gentle squeeze on his shoulder. Then, the sting of embarrassment changed to one of an emotion he couldn't name, his eyes watering.

Toshinori's hand reached up, resting in unruly hair.

"Thank you," Toshinori said sincerely, unblinking as Izuku buried his sniffles and snuffles in a bony shoulder. "But, to answer your question, the results of the practical won't be released until next week, but no, your broken ankle shouldn't impact those results."

And the non-sequitur, from serious to casual, was enough to have Izuku laugh, eyes still shedding tears.

Later on, Toshinori waited until Aizawa had taken a good sip of tea, took a sip of his own cup, and declared, "Izuku called me dad today. I think it's safe to say, I'm the favourite."

Aizawa choking became his phone background.

44. Rekindled Friendship

Izuku's fist whipped up past his face, Bakugou unable to help the flinch at being so close to being struck with a motion born of pure desperation.

Abruptly, he wondered what would have been left of his face had Izuku's hit connected, because the resulting shockwave blew through several floors above them, Iida's startled voice a sound of static in his near forgotten earpiece.

Cognizant, but surprised, Bakugou wondered where on earth Izuku, Midoriya, fucking Deku had been hiding this power the whole time, only to whip it out in time to join Yuuei and destroying Bakugou's chance of being the only person from their middle school to attend.

Afterwards, Bakugou stood with the rest of them, Izuku at his side nursing a brutally broken arm, blood smeared on his face from Bakugou's own ruthlessness. He stood with the rest of them as they watched the building finally collapse in on itself, the walls crumbling under their own weight.

Izuku's power hadn't just ripped through the floors above them, but had torn through the roof, blasting debris into the sky and raining it down on spectators, even as he used his genius plan to give Uraraka the ammo she needed to blindside Iida and take control, to take the win.

Bakugou couldn't help but wonder if he'd been wrong about his once childhood friend after all.

A part of him was reluctant to admit the display of power had been hot. He squashed that part down ruthlessly.

Deku was Deku, after all. Except, apparently, when he wasn't.

Their relationship changed from then on.

Bakugou did his best to remember the days where they slept at each other's houses, laughed at the same cartoons, played with the same toys, and tried his best to treat Izuku with even the smallest bit of respect as he'd had back then.

Izuku, dumb Deku, idiot that he was, welcomed him back as if there'd never been a change. Bakugou didn't know how he'd earned such blind trust and affection, but he was definitely loathe to lose it again.

And nobody would get in way of that. Not if he had his way.

45. Karaoke Disaster

"Whose bright idea was it, to decide on karaoke?" Aizawa asked from the doorway of the dorm common room. Several of the at disarray class 1-A cowered at the look on his face. Really, the only one of them that didn't flinch was Jirou, and that was because Izuku was passed out on her shoulder.

"It seemed fun at the time," Kaminari tried to explain, pushing his toes into the carpet. "None of us are hurt or sick, and Midoriya was on board."

"How many of you were there for the lecture describing the effects of Izuku's ability?" Aizawa asked tightly. Every hand went up.

"Then surely, being the bright students that you are, you would remember that Izuku's ability helps the body latently, and not just for injury? Or for upcoming ailments you are unaware you might have?"

"Ah, fuck," Bakugou said loudly, with feeling.

"'Ah, fuck' indeed," Aizawa spat. "Microphones don't amplify his ability but he's within close enough proximity with all of you anyway. Next time you attempt to kill your classmate, I hope you don't try at all, or, at the very least, think before you do."

He strode into the room, students scurrying away like he was Moses and they the red sea. Jirou was barely breathing as Aizawa reached down to scoop up the too limp, lax body from her side. Izuku's breathing was weak, but slow and deep.

In the empty doorway was a completely justified, unrepentant Shinshou, arms wrapped tightly around his middle, tired worried eyes on Izuku. He'd been the one to tattle, after all.

Shinshou was the one sat by his side when he woke up, attached to all manner of machines.

"That bad?" Izuku croaked, breath misting the oxygen mask.

"Not touch and go," Shinshou murmured quietly, steady hands reaching to help Izuku sit upright. "But definitely weak. I…didn't realise it affected you as much. When you fell asleep, the others said you just got tired but…I know the difference between someone sleeping, and someone unconscious."

He patiently helped Izuku lift the mask off, setting it the side where it wouldn't get tangled, and then offered a glass of water. He kept hold of it, letting Izuku take gentle sips from the cup to wet his dry mouth.

"How long was I out?"

"Just the night, and this morning," Shinshou placated. "Schools out, so I came to visit. According to Recovery-Girl you woke a few times before, but you weren't very lucid. She got you on the drip straight away, left you here with me and Aizawa-sensei, and then from what I heard, ripped your classmates a new one."

"It wasn't their fault," Izuku mumbled, folding his slightly trembling hands on his lap. "I thought…I thought I was better at it. That I'd be fine."

"We all have a long way to go," Shinshou twisted his hands in his shirt, staring at his own fingers. "We're still just teenagers, and have a veritable life time to learn how to adapt, to grow, to learn. You make it sound as if you've failed. You've just learned a new limitation."

Izuku's fingers white-knuckled before loosening.

"Shinshou-kun, I don't know how I survived before without you in my life. Thank you."

"To be honest," Shinshou began dryly, "I don't know how you made it this far either. But you're here, and have plenty further to go. I'll be here if you need me."

Izuku smiled, and let Shinshou help him lie back down, this time curled on his side vulnerably, knees tucked to his chest, and one hand holding onto Shinshou's. He fell back asleep like that, Shinshou keeping a careful, quiet vigil.

Shinshou continues to be the GOODEST of boys. I love him.