"Hello. Is anyone home?" The masculine voice was raspy and low but it was surprisingly gentle for a villain. Izuku doesn't think villains would ever announce themselves like that. Like they were sorry to intrude into someone's home.

Izuku shuddered and felt his shoulders start shaking again when there was another rasping knock against the door.

What was he thinking?

Kacchan was right. He was an idiot.

"We're here to help. Could you open the door for us, sweeties?" The second voice joined the first, and it took Izuku a moment to realise that it was addressing them. Izuku didn't know how but the strange woman knew that they were there. Maybe Izuku made so much noise that they knew. Maybe they weren't the police but his dad's friends.

The ones who will come take them away or kill them just like how they killed—

Izuku doesn't want to open the door.

He doesn't like how soft the voices sound. He doesn't like how he knew it was a lie. An illusion of safety. So Izuku shakes his head and clamps his palms across his lips to muffle the sound of his cries. Hicchan's arms are still encircled around him but his breaths are thready against Izuku's ears and his large hands are clammy against Izuku's skin.

There was a muffled sound of bodies shuffling against the door and a few low murmurs before the voices returned. This time, they sounded closer than they were before, like the people behind the door were kneeling on the ground.

"We're going to open the door now, okay sweeties?"

There wasn't time to register that statement before Kacchan surged up, dragged them both back and inserted himself in front of them with a snarl. Before he could protest, Izuku found himself on the ground and pushed back behind Hicchan's tall frame. He watched both of his brothers stand in front of him shaking from head to toe from adrenaline and fear, but there was something about the way their silhouettes stood tall against the light coming in the door that soothed the vicious trembling in Izuku's limbs and the blind panic in his head.

Against the light, Izuku could make out two figures. Both were dressed in casual sportswear, and when they both stood up with such deliberate calmness that it might have been natural to the untrained eye, Izuku knew it was fake.

How could they be that calm when there was blood everywhere?

But none of them said anything because Izuku knew that his brothers felt the same thing he did in his gut.

The man and woman were dangerous, even though the man looked like he hadn't shaved for days with eye-bags as big as a mini-panda's, and the woman looked harmless and kind.

And between the strangers lay a familiar suitcase with a golden handle. Izuku remembered seeing a similar suitcase just this morning before his dad told him that Hicchan was going to another home.

Was going to be sold to another person like leftover meat—

Izuku was screaming and tugging his brothers back before he realised it.

"NO!"

Izuku pulled and pulled but they didn't budge, and he knew he needed to tell Kacchan what was happening but he couldn't make the words in his head unstick from the lump of fear in his chest fast enough.

He shouldn't have underestimated his brother.

With a roar Kacchan grabbed the front of Hicchan's hoodie, shoved them both back behind the couch and lunged at the strangers. Dimly, Izuku remembered that Kacchan still had their daily dose of medicine running through his veins.

His brother didn't have his quirk.

But that didn't stop the sheer speed, agility and force of Kacchan's attack. Izuku didn't dare to peek his head out from where he was burrowed in Hicchan's arms, but he could hear a few surprised grunts from the bad people, and then a loud thump as Kacchan landed against the couch.

There was another struggle.

Above him, Hicchan clutched at him tighter and started shuffling away from the fight.

Izuku started hiccuping through the fresh wave of tears running down his face because they were hurting his brother and he was just sitting there like a coward—

The man huffed and there was a faint crack that sounded like laundry on a windy day before everything went silent.

"Calm down, kid. We're not here to hurt you."

A muted growl. A body struggling against something.

Izuku was about to run out there and beg-them-hewoulddoanythingtheywanted because anything was better than hearing his brothers get hurt again because of him.

Only he was too late because Hicchan dropped him, lurched forward and gripped onto a dark blob.

It's a knife, Izuku thinks to himself numbly.

The same one sticking out of his mom's dead body.

The one coated in blood.

The one that was ripped out of his mom's stomach with a loud, messy squelch.

Izuku watched in horror as his brother shakily stumbled towards the woman, lashed out frantically and tried to stab her too.

Izuku was reminded of the fact that his brother lived on the streets and then a group home before he came when Hicchan actually managed to graze the woman. Instead of reacting with fury, Izuku saw her deftly step away from another shaky swipe of the dagger and with a rather calm, steady voice say, "We're here to help you, sweetie. Can you put down that knife for me?"

Hicchan doesn't answer but the tip of the dagger wavers for a millisecond before striking forward again.

The woman must have realised that they weren't going to believe her—

(How could they when they came carrying the same suitcase his dad used?)

—because she doesn't try to say anything else. She just slowly inched away from them with her hands up, stepping closer to the man and a restrained, struggling Kacchan on the couch.

For a wild, heart-wrenching moment Izuku wonders if he was going to see his brother get hurt by another adult again. Another part of him wonders if the strangers were going to kill Kacchan like they killed Mom and dad.

It was the sound of a loud bang that shocked him out of his fear. The door swung open abruptly and a voice boomed out, "Police! Put up your hands!"

Before Izuku could even process the sight of a cat head walking towards him in a police uniform; the budding scent of sakura blossoms hit him.

It smelt like his mom's perfume.

It smelt like spring.

It smelt like safety and happiness before it was tainted by the scent of blood.

Izuku squinted and swivelled around in delirious panic. His eyes found Hicchan slumped against the woman and Kacchan passed out in the arms of the disheveled man.

Izuku ducked his head, hugged himself and sobbed through the encroaching black fog of unconsciousness.

Sobbed as he felt his legs give out when he stumbled and landed on a patch of blood.

Sobbed through the agony in his chest as he reached out an arm in the direction of his brothers.

Sobbed as he crawled closer to them before darkness claimed him.

Oh please, All Might.

Please.

Please, don't let me wake up in jail alone.