You guys can't see, but I've spent the last few hours alternating between reading the reviews, squealing like a little kid, pacing as the plot bunnies bite at my heels and drowning myself in music while I write.
Legit got big chunks of the next few chapters written out in less than a day because just how many people liked this, and I got a big fat doc with most of the story planned out and chapter-by-chapter summary. I even got shit from the tournament arc written out, and wtf that's at least 10 chapters away what is wrong with me.
I haven't felt this excited to write something in yEARS. So thank you, all of you darlings have left me a squeaking mess for the better part of day XD
First of all, I'll put this and I should have made a disclaimer; the story is gonna be a MidoriyaxBakugo, though you might have noticed with the way the first chapter was written. We aren't going to see angry angry pomeranian for a long while though since the next few chapters are going to build up the Todoroki situation, and it's going to be a SLOW burn. I like romance fics as much as the next person, but I fuCKING love angst and good adventure plot.
As for the Toya thing some of you might be wondering, well, I ain't going to spoil things, but Horikoshi might as well spill the beans now before we stick a tube down his throat and seize said beans ourselves.
Final point: I had a pretty shit dad and mom when I was young, so I got a pretty good grasp on how a abusive dad would act and how it affects the other people in the family. Endeavor ain't gonna be flat out evil flaming trashbag, but it's going to be close. I feel bad for Izuku already.
As for the legitimacy issue and if Izuku's gonna be a full Todoroki...well...you'll see next chapter.
Okay I'm shutting up now. This chapter is a bit shorter than the precious one, but I got school tomorrow and I just got out of my depression phase so I ain't fucking up this semester too.
It's still like 10 PM here though...I-I'm starting to sense a bit of a pattern here…?
The driver doesn't speak to him.
It wasn't like Izuku wasn't expecting him to make idle chat either but the absolute silence and the literal wall between the backseat was disorienting. He'd never felt so cut off from the world before. Deep down there's the tiniest, faintest part of him that feels excited at the fact he's sitting here, but it's dampened by the misery Izuku feels down to his very bones.
Was Kaa-san crying, right now? The thought sent cold waves of shame and sadness through Izuku's blood. He hoped Aunt Mitsuki was taking care of her. Inko needed all the help she could get and as...lively... as his aunt was, he knew Mitsuki genuinely cared for her. His mom was be in good hands.
She had to be.
Exhausted, Izuku closes his eyes and tilts his head back, breathing out softly.
(Still too tight, too little.)
How was Kacchan handling it? Now that was something that gave him pause. Izuku couldn't help but bite his lower lip and looked at his feet, rubbing his red shoes together. Was he angry, now? Was he shouting at Kaa-san and Mitsuki?
Does he miss me?
He didn't know what to think; the sight of Katsuki's eyes widening and the sudden vulnerability in his gaze was burned to memory. Maybe he was just angry, a part of him grouched, still brittle from the months of pushing around. He's not gonna miss you, he just doesn't want Inko to be sad.
Again, his thoughts swirled back to his mother. His poor, poor mother living in a empty house. Izuku opened his eyes, blinking furiously at the sting of tears that threaten to fall. Weak, he thinks as he rubbed his face with his right sleeve. Stupid, you gotta stop crying at everything.
What would Endeavor think?
Self-loathing pools in his stomach. You're the son of the Number Two hero. You should act like it.
Unsurprisingly, it doesn't make Izuku feel any better. Even thinking it made it sound like something straight out of a dream.
Or a nightmare.
Izuku didn't know which was which anymore.
His father was back. He was a pro hero. He was the second strongest hero in Japan and all Izuku here could do was feel bad and dread meeting him again. Going to live with him couldn't be all that bad, could it?
He went through all this trouble to get me back. He's taking me in so I don't hurt mom or anyone else with my Quirk.
Why did that conclusion feel hollow? Stupid. Things might be better if he didn't dwell too hard on it.
Glassy green eyes trailed over the spacious back, frowning as his gaze rests on the folding desk integrated to the wall in front of him. He could discern what looked like cup holders barely visible on either side, the dark metal seams barely poking out amongst the smoothness of the leather.
This was a car for adults. A really expensive one.
Izuku gulps, suddenly all too aware of his raggy red shoes, his dark pants (with some holes, courtesy of Kacchan and a few other kids) and the white t-shirt his mom had made him put on. These clothes were amongst the nicest he'd had, but they didn't even come close to the interior of the car.
Most definitely, he didn't belong here.
Somehow, the unimportant realization makes him panic.
He twists in his seat, eyes flying across the small space, barely resisting the urge to kick his legs forward and stretch, take space, do something, to reaffirm his presence to this dark, empty space. He feels like he's too small, too quiet in this vast place, and if he kept quiet it would swallow him up and devour him.
The green haired boy shudders, swaying from side to side. His breathing comes hard and fast, too quick for him to take in the deep breath he needed. I don't belong here. I shouldn't be here. Izuku wants to cry, but he feels too lightheaded to even muster the strength to do so. He curls up in the backseat, hugging his knees and pressing his face against the door.
For the smallest, briefest moment, he contemplates opening the door.
Izuku knew it was a bad thought but wasn't looking to get hurt, really! He just wanted a smidge, just to see outside -to feel the fresh air on his face. The atmosphere inside the car felt too cramped and tight; he couldn't draw a proper breath.
Opening the door could make things better, a incoherent part of him tells him. Izuku listens. Open it. You need to breathe. You need to get out of here.
Hesitating, he rest a hand on the door handle. It has to be locked, he thinks. Had to. Surely one of Endeavor's employees wouldn't be careless enough to leave a door unlocked when there was a child alone in the backseat. At least, that's what he liked to believe. And he had his seatbelt on like Inko taught him, so it couldn't be dangerous, right?
It wouldn't hurt to check if it was unlocked...
(Would he survive jumping out of the moving car?)
Izuku suddenly pauses, blinking. His hand is crisped around the opening mechanism of the door. He stares out the window, expression blank as cars, buildings and people fly by.
What am I doing?
He lets go of the handle like he's been burned.
I'm going crazy, he thinks a tiny bit hysterically. Izuku shuffles away from the door, refusing to be tempted. The young boy shifts his gaze to glance at the tiny window that allowed him to look at the man driving the car.
Nothing. The man kept driving on, unperturbed. The driver didn't seem to have noticed how close his charge had come to throwing himself out into the street. Had he even glanced back even once? No, he was sure of it. The man had yet to turn around to check on him.
He probably didn't care.
Or maybe he doesn't think you're stupid enough to jump out into moving traffic, a voice that sounds suspiciously like Kacchan mutters in his ears. A tiny, distant part of Izuku that was still sane agrees.
He wants to laugh hysterically.
Stop panicking. I can do this.
He just had to sit here and be quiet. Keep his breath even and try not to panic like a useless moron again. Surely Izuku could do that, right?
(He hoped he could.)
.
.
.
It feels like it's hours later when the car finally comes to a stop.
Izuku blinks out of his daze, dragged out of his sleepy stupor when the rumbling motor went silent under his feet. His heart drops. They'd arrived to their destination.
Breathe, he thinks furiously as he straightens in his seat. Nervously, his hands drift down to his shirt and attempts to smooth out the wrinkles it gained from Izuku being curled up for so long. Sloppy, he thinks with mild panic.
He doesn't feel ready.
Maybe if-
The car door opens.
Izuku freezes.
There's two people waiting for him.
He immediately recognizes his father, dressed impeccably in a black shirt and grey workout pants. Even with his fire reduced, his body, crossed arms and stoic expression cut a impressive figure in front of the house, easily dwarfing the little girl standing at his side.
Her presence captivates Izuku's attention almost immediately. She was much older than him, probably in her teen years. Clad in a red shirt and a pale shirt, it really brought out her pure white hair. It looked like freshly fallen snow and was just so dazzling, Izuku's hands twitched with the urge to touch. It was too much to be natural. Was it a secondary characteristic of her Quirk?
Their gazes met. Her eyes were a familiar, sharp turquoise. Izuku falters and looks away, a pit forming low in his stomach.
Was she...
(It would explain her presence, wouldn't it?)
A sound from the driver makes him lock that voice away in a corner of his mind. At the gesture of the impatient man, Izuku steps out of the vehicle. The cold afternoon air envelops him, seeping down to his bones. It looked like it only just stopped raining.
He stands at the steps of the house, barely resisting the urge to fidget.
Endeavor watched him from the top of the stairs, scanning his form up and down. Much like he had before, when they'd first met.
A uncomfortable feeling crawled up Izuku's spine. Was he always going to be like this? He recalled Uncle Masaru's gentle demeanor, and how he'd sometimes pick him up with Kacchan at the same time and swing them around, much to his son's displeasure. How he would smile like Katsuki and Mitsuki were his suns, how he would sometimes ruffle Izuku's hair when his voice overtook the commentator of the All Might documentary they watched after dinner.
Kacchan had always glared at that, disliking how Izuku took his father's attention.
Mine, he would mutter, shoving himself between them. Not as much as pushing his way between the two of them but rather draping himself on top of the smaller boy and his father's lap, squishing him. Get your own, Deku. Kacchan would spit as he stretched cat-like on top of him, his words lacking fire.
Try as he might, Izuku couldn't picture Enji doing such things. His gaze flickered to the girl at his side, meek but her eyes holding restrained interest as she inspected his appearance. The way she held herself, spine straight and hands clasped in front of her told Izuku enough.
There was barely any familiar warmth between his sister and Endeavor.
He's one of the strongest pro-heroes, Izuku tries to rationalize, though in his mind it feels as hollow as the pain in his chest. He must be really busy. Too busy doing the important things, saving lives-
(Maybe that's why he never came to pick him up.)
He was here though, so that had to mean something.
"Izuku, you're here."
His attention snapped back to Endeavor.
Where else would I be?
(Home.)
The man had uncrossed his arms, and was beckoning him to follow as he turned towards the house door. Under one arm, he was holding both his suitcase and his gym bag. Wait, when did the driver give him…?
"Come."
Izuku traded stares with his sibling. The girl looks like she wants to say something and Izuku wants her to talk, wants to hear his sister's voice since it must be so soft and full of warmth, maybe like Inko, maybe she liked him like he liked her-
"Izuku!"
His heart seizes at the impatient call, nearly bursting out of his chest. The fire rattles inside him, beating its wings against the cage keeping it trapped, frenzied.
"R-right!" Izuku squeals as he bolts after his father, who's already entering the house. A glance back lets him see his sister standing there, eyes sad, mouth open as if she had been about to speak. His insides twist uncomfortably.
The green-haired boy forces himself to look away.
The Todoroki property was very much different from his -Inko's house. It's hallways are wide and broad, the rooms arranged in a traditional japanese style that makes Izuku feel small and out of place. Just like in the car.
The house is also big, very much so. At one point his father grows tired of him falling behind and grabs him by the wrist, practically dragging him along. His grip was tight, but it was okay. He'd had worse.
Todoroki Enji also doesn't talk to him either, choosing to focus on reaching his destination. Izuku was too much of a coward to speak up despite the curiosity eating away at him. He swallows his questions down, not wanting to appear rude.
Then they reach the sleeping quarters and things change. Izuku freezes when he spots him.
Endeavor stops too, noticing the presence.
There's a boy his age peeking his head out from behind one of the door. His hair is strange -split in the middle, one side was a pale, delicate white similar to the girl he'd met at the entrance, and the other side was a dark red identical to Endeavor's.
A bandage is wrapped around his head, ruffling the two-toned hair. It covers his left eye, leaving only the clear, grey left one to peak out from under the heavy gauze. Izuku's heart drops at the sight.
What happened to him? Izuku knows he's staring, but he can't help it. There's little doubt that this boy was another of his siblings.
He blinks.
Oh. Oh.
This is my brother.
His skin feels prickly, and he fidgets with barely restrained excitement. This boy is my brother. Why did he have hair like that? Why the bandages? Is he older or younger than me -do I have a little brother, am I a older brother?! Or am I the youngest oh god there's the girl too how many siblings do I-
Endeavor yanks on his wrist, startling him out of his thoughts. Izuku looks up questioningly, but his father has eyes only for the taller boy.
"Shoto. This is your brother, Izuku."
Shoto? Is that his name?
The boy's single eye darkens at the restrained call of his name, narrowing as it shifts from the green-haired child to Endeavor. Something burns in that steel gaze. Lips twisted into a silent snarl, the other kid spins around and retreats back into his room, slamming the door hard behind him.
When dad spoke he looked so-
Izuku feels cold.
When Endeavor tugs on his wrist again, he follows numbly.
.
.
.
His father brings him to a room at the end of the hall, just four doors away from Shoto's. It's big, easily the size of his old living room. There's a futon laid in one side of the room, a door leading to the closet. A lone cupboard by a small window. The floor was covered in tatami flooring.
Izuku was honest enough to admit that he stares a bit. It's a staggering contrast to Inko's house.
"This is your bedroom." Endeavor lets the suitcase and bag drop none too gently to the floor, making Izuku jump. "Unpack."
Then he steps aside and leaves Izuku to it.
It's difficult to do so with Endeavor's attention on him, but the green haired boy fights through the sharp roots of anxiety spreading across his body. He could do this without tripping over his own two feet. Maybe. Then again it's the eyes of the Number Two Hero that were burning their way through the back of his head.
No pressure, no pressure at all. Imagine it's Kacchan, he thinks, but he quickly dismisses it because to be honest Kacchan could be downright mean when he wanted to, but he never exhumed the same sense of danger Endeavor did.
He opens his suitcase and gym bag, spreading his belongings in front of him before taking the clothes to the closet, setting them on the lowest shelf. This room was almost half as big as his bedroom back ho- back with mom, and it feels painfully empty and bare
I can fill it, he thinks. I'm probably gonna need more clothes, a-and there's enough space here to store some of my merchandise, maybe even a small bookshelf to stash my notebooks?
Warmth blooms in his chest at the thought. Yeah. Maybe he shouldn't feel so down about all of this. He could make this work.
His clothes arranged, he leaves the closet -and freezes.
Endeavor was standing there, expression pinched tight, indescribable. In his hand was one of the All Might limited edition collectibles Izuku had brought with him.
For a moment, Izuku doesn't even dare breathe.
His father didn't look mad, per say, but there was something about his stare, the sheer intensity in his eyes and the way he was clutching the toy so tightly was that smoke-
"C-can I have it back, please?" Izuku found himself saying, his mouth moving without him wanting it to. He feels floaty and disconnected from him body, drifting in the air as easily as a leaf in the wind.
(Or ashes.)
At first, Endeavor doesn't look at him. Then slowly, ever slowly, his eyes shift to Izuku, as if noticing his presence for the first time.
The toy drops to the ground, forgotten.
Izuku exhales.
"Do you need anything else?"
Izuku falters, the questions he wished he could ask his father remaining lodged in his throat. Could he go meet his siblings now? When could he go out and visit the Bakugos? Where was he going to school?
When can I see Kaa-san again?
They're stuck in his trachea. Glued to the back of his mouth like thick black tar. Instead, he mutters out:
"No sir, thank you. I-I have what I need."
Endeavor pins him with a scrutinizing stare. "Good," He starts, voice tight, subdued. "I will return in a few minutes. Finish unpacking your things."
Then he leaves.
As soon as the door closes, Izuku lunges for the toy, grabbing it with trembling hands and tucking the doll so close against his chest that the pointed hair tuffs atop of All Might's head bruised his right collarbone. He can feel the heat emanating from the plastic, a reminder of how close Endeavor had gotten to melting the toy.
The toy in his hands feels too warm, but he refuses to let go. He can't help but let out a choked whine as he sits down on his futon, breathing hard. It was soft and comfy under him, welcoming, but it felt like at any moment it was going to come alive and devour him.
Why did he do that?
Did he hate All Might that much?
(Does he care about me that little?)
Izuku shudders.
No time for that.
Can't think of it.
He had to do something though. He couldn't let it happen again.
He couldn't bear to lose any of the meager belongings he'd been able to bring with him to this big, empty, barren house.
Heart set, Izuku grabs his gym bag. With a bit of a struggle, he pushes his notebooks aside and carefully, lovingly rests the toy at the bottom of the bag. His movements are rapid, panicked, as if he was expecting his father to walk back into the room any moment now and finish what he started. Izuku didn't try to chide himself for the erratic behavior because it certainly felt like that was going to happen.
Wasn't Endeavor a hero? Then why, why was he so angry?
Why did he look like he was about to-
Don't think about it. Don't. Blood pumps loudly in his ears.
The toy hidden, he grabs his other All Might memorabilia -a rolled up poster, two more figurines and a small plush toy- and he puts them next to his action figure. Then, the green haired boy shakedly places some of his winter clothes on top his belongings.
The notebooks go on top of those.
It barely looks like there's anything else but books and clothes there. It's only after he feels his things were safe -as safe as they could be, as safe as he could be here- that Izuku allowed the ragged breath stuck in his lungs out.
The noose that was tightening around his neck slackens.
(He can still feel it's weight around his shoulders.)
.
.
.
The room Endeavor leads him next is wide and open, lacking any sort of decoration. From the multiple fighting videos he'd watched ever since his obsession with heroes began, Izuku as some sort of dojo. Like the rest of the house, the room is very old style; there are sliding doors on one side leading to another room of similar size. A well-used, pale brown matt covers most of the floor.
Izuku doesn't miss the faint burns marks decorating the ground and walls.
"We will start by figuring out how your Quirk works." Endeavor tells him sharply, standing in front of him, commanding attention. He's not in his hero suit nor in civilian clothing, but rather workout clothes.
Izuku watches with interest as the large man walks over to a small trunk tucked at the back of the room, well away from the training area. Endeavor opens it, his movements quick and rigid as he prefers the contents of the box. The pro-hero pulls a large grey altar candlestick and a wax candle, closes the trunk and comes back to stand in front of Izuku.
Endeavor methodically sets the candlestick on the floor and puts the candle on it. Then his gaze flicks up, pinning Izuku in place. Blood cold and heart hammering like a hummingbird in his ribcage, Izuku could do nothing but stand there, petrified.
"Summon your fire."
The detached, authoritative tone left no room for arguing. Izuku feels tingly and cold, and only some mediocre strength of will keeps him from trembling like a leaf in the wind.
It didn't save his mind from having a meltdown, though.
Do not disappoint him.
What if he sends me back?
Can he send me back to mom?
What if he thinks my Quirk is too much, too dangerous to handle?
Is there a precedent to unstable, unsafe Quirks? Am I going to be shipped off to a facility in the middle of-
"Well?"
Sharp. Impatient. Oh no. Endeavor's voice stabs right through the fog and into his heart. It's the first time he sees the hero emote. Upon realizing he'd spaced out in front of his father, a tiny, tiny part of Izuku shrivels up and dies.
Just let the ground swallow him whole, it was better than facing this reality.
(Maybe Kacchan was right, he had his head in the clouds too much.)
"Y-yes, sir." Meekly, he lifted his arms and concentrated on the candle in front of him. He pulls, and the fire answers his call eagerly.
Onyx flames burst to life at the tip of the candle, swirling in jagged loops and curls as it rises up almost to his shoulders. He feels the strain worse this time, the constrictive feeling in his chest making him feel slightly nauseous.
It's harder to wrangle this time, the boy notes with a bit of worry. Izuku has to squint and concentrate hard to keep it from twisting out of his control. He remembers the rosebush his mother had been trying to save.
(It only took a moment. Just a second and-)
"You're barely burning the wax." Endeavor notes as he squats down in front of him, expression thoughtful. It's the most Izuku had seen him emote since he'd been brought here.
"I-I don't want it to." Izuku informs him with a tight voice. Noting the fact he'd just interrupted his father, Endeavor, he quickly shutters out something more informative. "It's still very hot though! I managed to turn the sand in my school's courtyard into glass."
His father grunts.
"That's at least 3200 degrees Fahrenheit." Todoroki Enji notes absently. His right hand brushes on top of the fire, but unlike Kacchan he doesn't try to get too close. His massive fingers hover just out of reach, gauging the heat emanating from the unusual flames. "Have you burned anything else?"
Izuku hesitates. "A bush." He starts slowly, then he realize how little information he was offering. "It was in a b-big flower pot. I burned it to ashes. F-flower pot included."
"Stop stuttering." Endeavor snaps almost absentmindedly, frowning. "How long did it take?" He asks briskly.
A blink.
"A second, at most?"
His father's left eyebrow lift and he finally looks up to meet his gaze. Izuku's stomach drops at the look the Number Two hero offered him. Not impressed.
It physically hurt.
The fire crackled at his feet, blues mixing with purple.
"What was the pot made of? Plastic?"
"Huh, s-stone?" By the furrowing of his brows, Endeavor wasn't liking his uncertain answer or the hesitation in his voice. Or the stuttering. Right, he wants details. Izuku could give those. Izuku was good at those. He was a master at taking apart and reciting the pros and cons of Quirks. In this situation though… I just got my Quirk, I barely played with it since if I slip... "I don't know a-and it didn't really matter. As soon as the fire latched on, it turned the entire thing to ashes."
Endeavor taps his chin thoughtfully. "I believe I understand the basics now. So your Quirk only burns what you will it to, but it can get out of control if you don't maintain your concentration. It can get to temperatures higher than 3200 Fahrenheit within a second. It doesn't hurt you,however." He points a finger at Izuku, who fidgets at the pro-hero's intensity. "Not to mention, can't be put out unless you will it. Fascinating."
Izuku swallows and nods slowly.
"And water doesn't work on it, no. N-nor fire extinguishers. Or much else.."
I tried.
For a moment, Endeavor looked almost impressed. "A interesting mutation." He comments distractedly. The tiniest bit of warmth bloomed in Izuku's chest at that.
The fire spun gently atop of the candlestick, purple-black, less jagged more curved. Softer.
"Would fire put it out, I wonder?"
Green eyes blink. Wait what-
The fire on the candlestick turned bright, harsh blue.
Izuku stumbled back, his next breath catching in his throat like something was suddenly lodged there, keeping him from breathing. Hellfire, he thinks with a mixture of excitement and stupor. The black flames swirled atop of the candlestick, twisting around vibrant blue and wobbling angrily as it struggled to stay alive.
It felt like a brunt object collided with his chest. Izuku winced, unable to stop the pained breath from leaving him as Endeavor kept applying the pressure, burning the candle until only blue fire remained. Now he had no air left in his lungs. He's suffocating my flames, Izuku thinks, fighting through the lightheadedness. He's keeping it from reforming, if he keeps up-
He feels the familiar snap of the fire returning to him.
Izuku breathes.
(It's worse now.)
Satisfied that the fire was out, Endeavor killed his own. The red-headed hero made a sound of approval, dismissing how Izuku was rubbing at his chest, how ragged his breathing had become. Izuku knew he didn't miss it, though.
Just didn't try to make sure he was okay.
"This is good." His father grunts, more to himself than Izuku. Endeavor stands up. He jerks his head at the candlestick at their feet. "Put it back where it was." The small child in front of him jolts, startled.
Obediently, Izuku picks it up, trots over to the trunk; he opens it with a bit of struggle -his arms felt numb- and places the item next to other candlesticks of varying sizes. The box was filled with different items, but they all seemed fire-related. At least, those Izuku could recognize, which were less than half of them.
'We're done for today." Enji tells him; Izuku knows when he's being dismissed. "I have what I need to select your teacher."
Endeavor is like a mountain next to him, but Izuku couldn't help but speak up. "...you…" Izuku hesitates, fighting the urge to wriggle his hands. "...you won't train me?"
The man shakes head.
"No." His father waves him off, unperturbed. "I'll oversee your training indirectly." Endeavor tells him like Izuku's stomach didn't just drop to the floor. "I will be assigning you a tutor for your Fire Quirk. He will be the one responsible for preparing you for Yuuei."
His breath catches in his throat. Yuuei. Right.
Of course Endeavor would-
(Why are you complaining? Isn't this what you want?)
The words come out before he can stop himself:
"Why won't you train me?" Izuku squeaks, bringing his hands up to his mouth. Red bloomed across his cheeks. Stupid. Why did I say that?
Endeavor's stare was just shy of a glare. He looks like a monument with the way he loomed over him. Izuku's breath was stuck in his throat. He felt like he was about to be squashed.
No, he felt-
(Tiny. Unimportant.)
"I have other things to do." Endeavor reveals to Izuku, who was starting to get light headed again. "Your brother Shoto needs my guidance more than you. He has been-" A inhale sharply, lips twisting into a frustrated sneer. If Endeavor looked annoyed before, now he looked furious and Izuku shuddered, remembering his expression when he'd seen the All Might collectible. "...difficult. I need to focus on him if he's ever going to be the hero who surpasses All Might."
Surpass All Might? Izuku is taken off guard yet again. Was that even possible? Was Endeavor so confident in his sibling's power that he believed he could dethrone the Symbol of Peace? It felt inconceivable.
Unbelievable.
The boy then recalls his figurine, nearly hot enough in his palm to hurt. So close to melting into a twisted, useless mass of plastic in Endeavor's grasp.
This wasn't just a rivalry, what his father had against All Might.
He doesn't dislike All Might, Izuku realizes a bit hysterically, unsettled by the sheer fire in his father's voice. He hates him.
Somehow, that hurts more than anything else.
Please tell me if there any mistakes, or I should tone down Izuku's mind rambling. I think it's cute, but I might go overboard (like he does).
Also if there are any mistakes writing wise. It's been a long ass time since I've last written anything (started last month) and I'm rustier than a abandoned nail. And I've decided that I'll die like a lady so no beta : D