I had planned to leave them alone.
Normally, I am a man in complete control of his desires, but I had allowed myself that dream of happiness and faced the consequences. I hold no regret about it, only a longing that would always remind me of the two most important women in my life. I would have stayed if that choice was allowed. My past decisions had robbed me of maintaining that happiness, but I do not curse them, as that would be useless and misdirected anger. But there was never regret, because even the memories of their smiles, their tears, their life meant so much that they healed the aching made by the empty air beside me, where in a perfect world they would have been. My wife and daughter, the only miscalculation I never expected but never regretted.
How I met that angelic woman that consumed my soul was very commonplace considering who I was and how special she was. I had simply stepped outside for a moment and she came walking by, returning from a day of work. I hadn't even noticed she was there before she started a conversation - the reason for which I would never find out. It was a small conversation, focusing on banal and trite things, but it was peaceful. And peaceful was not something I experienced often. I found myself stepping out the next day, and we had another conversation, introducing ourselves - and on a whim I gave her the name I had not heard in over 200 years, my true name. And it happened again the day after, and the day after that, a routine that developed not of any effort on either of our parts, but of simple coincidence.
And I found myself enjoying peeking at this example of all the underworld lacked. She was a glimpse I thought I had abandoned centuries ago, stuffed full with light and gentleness and hope. Days passed into weeks, weeks into months, months into a few years, and everyday I went outside and she passed by, sometimes giving up an hour or two on her days off simply so we could talk again. And we fell in love.
It wasn't an overwhelming passion or lustful desire - though she was quite beautiful. It was a warm feeling made only for her, and a warmth I was very much aware of as everything else around me was cold. In all my centuries of existence, it was only in these hours with her that I felt alive; no one else had or would ever mean as much to me as she did.
And so I proposed and married her, outside the knowledge of my underlings. And this fragile peace lasted a few years and gave me a treasure I had never expected to obtain, our daughter. I wasn't around much, didn't want to give anyone the impression that I had such a weakness, but I was still there. I saw our daughter grow from a baby to an infant to a toddler. I saw my wife smile everytime I came home, laugh as she told me what I had missed, hum as she made a meal larger than normal and love that she was cooking for three. This was my peace… but it didn't last.
My wife died. She hit her head when a petty robber pushed her out of the way as he made his escape. No one saw her fall, so the police didn't find her until it was too late. As I put her will in order, watched her friends cry over her still body at the wake, watched them lower a casket containing her lifeless body into the ground, I was silent. Our daughter held my hand, never letting go just as her tears never stopped, and I stood still, not talking and rarely moving. Tears came down my face but my expression was blank; everything was on the inside.
I cursed myself for not making sure I always knew she was safe. My light had been stolen from me and I could do nothing. There was no quirk to bring back the dead. Making the thief die a fate worse than death hadn't given me anything but momentary satisfaction. I had lost many things before, but nothing had made me feel so empty, so alone. And yet, I wasn't alone. Our daughter's hand still gripped mine, looking to her father as she grieved over her mother. When all the proceedings were over and done with, I gathered up my daughter and everything in our home that was worth keeping and left. I left behind the house where I had placed my most precious treasures, and brought the one I still had left with me. It didn't matter that I knew she didn't belong in my world, I would never let her go. No matter how broken she became, I could not leave my daughter, the child of an ordinary woman and the ruler of the underworld.
No, Izuku would remain by my side forever.
The hardest part of becoming a hero was when you had to accept the reality of death. There were many who broke when it crashed into them, but those who survived grew beyond imagining. It was the final test, the deepest abyss one had to come back from to become a true hero. Ideally, it was something most faced when they thought they were ready.
Kastuki Bakugo didn't face the test that way. No four year-old could think they were ready to face death. His mom's friend was a nice woman, a great cook, and Katsuki had even allowed her daughter to be his friend. Even he felt a warm, cuddly feeling whenever Izuku ran into her mom's arms, all smiles and giggles and the perfect example of familial love.
It all happened so quickly, though. Katsuki's mom came to the park and he expected her to smack him on the head for not coming sooner and then take him home, but she called for Izuku too. There was no smack, and his mom's face was uncharacteristically blank, though her eyes were puffy. When Izuku asked what was the matter, his mom burst into tears. That alone was shocking to Katsuki as to him his mother had always been a very strong - if not violent - person; he had never seen her cry before.
His mom hugged Izuku and cried more, choking out that her mom had died and giving details she probably hoped were helping the little girl understand but were more likely because she couldn't stand the silence. Because that's what Izuku and Katsuki were, silent. Both of them knew something was very wrong with Izuku's mom, but they didn't understand death like a grown-up could. Not until the wake.
Katsuki came with his mom and dad, forced into a vest and dress shirt and some very stiff pants. He spotted Izuku almost immediately, she was holding her father's hand - a man Katsuki had only seen a few times before - and crying so much Katsuki thought she would turn into a green raisin. Her head was very purposefully directed away from the coffin set up along the center of the back wall. The coffin that Katsuki's mother led him to. Katsuki watched as his mother peered into whatever was inside. A hand shot to cover her mouth and more tears rolled down her cheeks, stained with her mascara. For two minutes she muttered many words, all of which were too choked and personal for Katsuki to make out. His dad was talking with Izuku's dad, whose face was blank but marked with tears tracts that ran from eyes that were both blank and emotional.
Katsuki's mom finally stopped mumbling to herself and pushed Katsuki towards the spot she had just occupied. "Say your goodbyes," she told him, wiping furiously at her damp eyes with a handkerchief.
Katsuki stepped onto a platform that let him see into the coffin and was surprised to see Izuku's mom in it. "You chose a weird place to take a nap, Auntie Inko," he said, confused. "You might want to wake up, though. Deku's crying and you're better at making her stop then I am."
"Oh Katsuki," he heard his mother breathe from beside him. That only made him more confused. He didn't understand why everybody was crying, or why his mom had said Auntie Inko had died when she was sleeping right here…
"Auntie Inko's not gonna wake up, is she?" Katsuki asked, turning his head to look at his mom, who had covered her mouth with her hand again, more inky tears falling. She shook her head. Katsuki looked back into the coffin, where the green-haired woman's pale face was looking more and more unnatural to him. Auntie Inko's body's right here, he realized, but she wasn't in it. She wasn't coming back.
"Um, I'm gonna miss your cooking, Auntie Inko," Katsuki said, feeling the need to tell this to the body in front of him. "It was better than the old hag's, the best in the whole neighborhood. Deku's crying right now but since you can't cheer her up, I guess… I guess I'll try. You have a really nice smile so I'm gonna miss that too. Um… Mr. Midoriya's here and I know how happy you were whenever he came. Deku would ramble about her dad for hours, boasting that he was probably saving the world in secret or something. Uh… my mom's been crying a lot, you're her best friend so she's really sad. You're probably really sad, too. You're not gonna get to see your friends again, or Mr. Midoriya, and Deku's gonna grow up and you're not gonna see it. I get that you're not gonna be around anymore, but, somehow I feel like you can hear me. So, um… thanks for all the good food you would bring over because you accidently made too much; thanks for helping throw my birthday party each year; thanks for letting me come over whenever I got mad at the old hag and for waiting to take Deku home because my parents weren't at the park yet and all the other kids were gone. You're not my real aunt but you felt like one. It's definitely gonna be different around here because you left. Bye, Auntie Inko." Katsuki's eyes prickled and they felt warm. He turned around and jumped off the platform, making his way over to the crying Izuku. He didn't say anything, just patted her back. She didn't say anything, just wiped uselessly at her eyes and leaned a little closer to him.
The next day, Katsuki's dad answered the door to Izuku's dad, who was holding his sleeping daughter in one arm. Katsuki eavesdropped from the living room but was unable to hear anything. His dad seemed to disagree with Izuku's dad on something and his mom had joined the conversation, holding the same opinion as his dad. But eventually they backed down. His mom called Katsuki and told him to say bye to Izuku, that she was going to be leaving.
"Where's she going?" Katsuki asked.
"Her dad's taking her with him overseas," his mom said, shaking her head to show her disagreement with Mr. Midoriya's decision. "It might be awhile before we see her again."
"Give me a second," Katsuki said, a sudden impulse causing him to run to his room and grab something. He handed the object to Mr. Midoriya and said, "She can have it." The object in question was an All Might doll. The merchandise was decidedly more squishy than anything else Katsuki owned and he always wondered what had compelled his mom to buy it for his third birthday. But Izuku had really liked it, even asking Katsuki if she could trade it for one of her own action figures. He had refused, lording it over her because he had it and she wanted it. Katsuki didn't know what compelled him to give it to her, but give it he did and Mr. Midoriya tucked it into his daughter's arm, thanking Katsuki for his gift. He said goodbye and left. Katsuki ran out onto the porch and saw him strap his daughter into the back seat of his car, then get in himself and drive off. He watched the car disappear and continued looking at where he had last seen it until the old hag called him inside.
He didn't see Izuku again, not for many years.
All for One knew his daughter wasn't happy. He knew she didn't like what he did and wouldn't be helping him if he wasn't her father. From time to time, he would see ghosts of her brilliant smile, sparks of mischief when she teased Tomura, but most of the time she was empty. And All for One knew it was his fault.
He had forced the life of a villain upon her, even though he knew of her childhood dream to be a hero. He had trained her, taught her about weapons, fighting, espionage. Very soon after he brought her with him, she became compliant, too compliant. He watched his daughter become a shell of who she had been, a doll who closed off her own wishes and wants. She would not ask for toys, candy, or attention - all things her father would have been willing to give her - only holding onto the doll the Bakugo boy had gifted her. After she discovered she was quirkless, she didn't even ask for a quirk, which she knew was a wish her father could grant. All for One feared she hoped she would be taken down by a hero because she wouldn't have a quirk to protect herself with. So, he trained her even more.
The only thing she ever asked from him was that she was never forced to kill. She never wanted to make anyone feel the way she had, looking at her mother's face and knowing she was gone. All for One agreed, a warm pang in his chest at the caring nature of his daughter that so resembled her mother.
All for One found Tenko Shimura (though he named him Tomura Shigaraki after discovering his memory loss) and though he took him under his wing because of the potential he saw, he also wondered if the boy could serve as a companion to his daughter. He made sure Tomura wore gloves that covered his thumb and pinkie so he wouldn't accidentally disintegrate her. She accepted the companion but remained as lifeless as before. All for One knew he was a terrible father, but to him, it was fine as long as she was by his side. Though he still wanted to see her smile, to desire something like any normal teenager.
She asked to join Tomura when he relocated to a run-down bar to begin his plotting of All Might's downfall, but the request was more of curiosity and whim than desire. He gave her permission but also made her promise to visit the main base at least once a week. She consented, and he knew his request was more of an order in her eyes. He assigned Kurogiri to look after the both of them and report back their progress and conditions.
His daughter's lifeless eyes were a constant thought.