TRIGGER WARNINGS: Bullying, both physically and verbally. Please be advised as you read. If it is too much of a trigger for you, you can skip this chapter as it is not crucial to the plot.
Inko
21 Years Earlier...
She should have been happy, but her entire world was falling apart. It was in shambles all around her, and she could do nothing to pick up the pieces. Midoriya Inko should have been spending this day with happy tears in her eyes, but she wasn't. The tears that fell were bitter and sad and broken. Broken... Not because she was alone in a cold, sterile hospital room without her family, even though being alone with her pain, both physical and mental, was terrifying. Not because her husband left her to go celebratory drinking despite her hatred of his alcoholism. Not because she wished she had someone's hand to hold through all of the news the doctors were delivering to her; she was tough and could handle words if their meaning was detached from them.
No. She cried because her perfect, little baby would suffer because somehow, she had already failed as a mother. There weren't too many questions to be asked about what had happened. There was a simple answer. Inko had been a smoker, a heavy one at that, but she'd quit as soon as she'd realized she was pregnant. She was already two months into that first trimester by the time she'd found out.
The damage had already been done.
She already failed as a mother. She'd hurt her child before he was even able to defend himself, and it had all been because of her own foolish actions. The weight of it all crashed down on her shoulder.
"No one could have anticipated this, Midoriya," the doctor said as he laid his hand heavily on her shoulder, making some attempt at comfort. It felt cold and distant. "You did what you could by quitting your habits when you did... But young Midoriya is deaf. There's nothing you could have done."
Yes there was. She could have never picked up that dumb cigarette when Hisashi offered it to her in high school. She could have been healthy. She could have been cautious, thinking of her future and her children's futures. She'd been selfish. Instead, she'd left him a broken child with a disability. Broken...
No. She couldn't call him that. She couldn't label him. No. It would only do him more harm. He wasn't broken. He wasn't disable. He was her son. He was perfect. He wasn't broken, and she would never allow herself to call him that. She'd never allow anyone else to call him that. Never.
But instead of voicing any of that, she nodded numbly. "Do you know how bad?"
The doctor shook his head. His lips were pressed into this grave little line that made Inko's heart sink deeper into her chest. "We won't know until we do further testing. You have options. Depending on the severity of his hearing loss, there are several different hearing support devices that you-"
The rest of the doctor's words were lost on her as she stared at the quiet baby that slept in her arms. He had dark green hair just like her own and her husband's lovely curls. He was still beautiful even though he couldn't hear her voice. It was then that her mind had decided its resolve. She'd make sure that despite the silence that surrounded him, despite the words he couldn't hear, he'd know he was loved. She'd do whatever it took to get him to know that.
Because hearing didn't mean that you couldn't listen.
2 Years Later...
Inko did everything that hse could to help Izuku. From the moment she learned he was deaf, she vowed to herself that she'd protect him at all costs. And in order to do that, she needed to arm him with the things that would help him along the way. He needed to have a life that was rich with language. She did her best to provide her son with those experiences so that he'd have the best quality of life that was possible for a child who was deaf.
It was safe to say that, after all of the appropriate testing, her son had sensorineural hearing loss. Hearing loss to components of his inner ear. This type of hearing loss could be helped with the use of hearing support devices, as the doctors had initially suggested to her when Izuku was born. But the expenses were high, and her income was meager at best. Insurance didn't cover the cost of hearing aides, either. So, instead of taking the easy route, the one that would have made his life easier, she'd spent all of her extra time learning just for him. She'd learned Japanese sign language. She used pronounced facial expressions. She maintained eye contact when she spoke to him. She took him to all of the appropriate specialists because more than anything, she wanted him to be able to communicate. She wanted him to be able to sign and read and write.
Each day, Inko communicated with her little Izu. She god to see his smiles, hear his laughter, and watch him grow into a happy toddler. But while she did this, Hisashi sat there and did nothing.
Inko had just put Izuku to bed and was preparing to leave for her night shift at the hospital. Hisashi sat on the couch with a bottle of sake in his hand, like always. All he did these days was sit in front of that TV and drink his life away. Not once had he tried to find a job since he'd lost his. He never tried to do anything except get drunk. It was getting old really fast.
Inko found a flame of anger burning higher and higher in the pit of her stomach. It was one that had been there once she realized how wrong it was for her husband to have left her there, alone, in the hospital. And it was seeping out of her now. She slammed her work bag down on the counter, which startled the drunk from whatever stupor that he was in.
"What the fuck, Inko?" he slurred.
"When are you going to do something?"
"Do what?" he asked before knocking back the last of his sake. "What are you on about, woman?"
"Oh, I don't know, anything!" she stated, her voice rising quickly to a shout. She didn't have to worry about yelling. Izu wouldn't wake up. Her sweet baby would never know the arguments his parents had in the dead of night whilst he slept soundly. "You haven't done anything since you got laid off from your job, Hisashi."
He snorted, looking away from her and back at the TV screen. "I took out the trash yesterday."
"That was Tuesday! It's Saturday!"
"Who's keeping track?"
"I am."
"Why?"
She stared at him baffled. Why. Why? What the hell did he mean 'why'? The flames that were building inside of her erupted into a fiery hellscape of emotions and anger.
"Why? Because you hardly do anything around here!" she roared. "I need you to do something."
"Like fucking what?"
"Do the dishes. Throw away your beer cans. Find a job. Or, I don't know, interact with our son!"
"How can I do that when the kid can't hear me?"
Inko threw up her hands in frustration and signed, "Like this."
"I don't know what that means."
"Because you never try! You could have gone to the classes with me," she raved. "Your mother paid for them and was watching Izuku for us just so we could! But you were too busy getting drunk like you always do, Hisashi!"
"I'm not changing my life around for some broken kid."
There was that word again. Broken. The one she'd said so many times to herself that night in the hospital... The one she'd sworn she'd never allow to be used to describe her child. Here it was again, his very own father using it to belittle him. Inko wasn't having any of it.
"Don't you dare call him that!"
"Why not? He's broken," he said, taking a swig of his sake only to find the bottle empty. He stared at it as if it had personally offended him, and Inko snorted. Pathetic.
"Because he's your son!"
"And you broke him!"
Inko's body chilled over at his words. She knew he was right. Deep down, even though he was a drunk and an alcoholic and utterly useless, he was right.
"That's not my f-fault. T-The doctors said that I couldn't have k-known-" she stammered.
And she couldn't have. She was a part of that small percentage of women who still got their period when they were pregnant. She hadn't known until the morning sickness had kicked in, but by then...
"Why not? You go on and on about my drinking," Hisashi yelled, slamming his empty sake bottle down on the coffee table. "Yet your vice is what caused all of these fucking problems!"
"I-I quit!"
"Too little, too late, Inko," he said. "The damage is done. He's broken."
"He's not!"
"And apparently, you're delusional," he snapped. "Because you can't clearly see what's right in front of your face, Inko. Fuck. You know what? I can't do this anymore. I can't. It's too much. You're too much. He's too much. I'm leaving."
"W-What?" she stammered.
"I want a divorce."
Inko's legs felt wobbly beneath her. Everything froze. Her blood ran even colder than it had been before.
"Hisashi, no..." she said softly. "W-We can figure this out."
But he was shoving his feet in his shoes, grabbing the car keys, and stomping out the door before she could stop him. She sank to the ground and cried more tears of sadness and pain. For her marriage that was in shambles. For herself and her stress. For her son who didn't deserve to be called broken.
But Inko had to be strong for her child because now, she was the only one there for him, and she promised she'd protect him no matter the cost.
2 Years Later...
Hisashi came back and left again another two times before Inko followed through with following the paperwork for their divorce. Each time he came back, he promised it wouldn't happen again. But his promises were always empty. They never helped any real value, and it took her two more years from that initial night to realize it and get out. After that, she'd sold her house before the debt could become too much, found an apartment, and moved on with her life without Hisashi. Well, if one didn't count his monthly child support checks, of course.
And now, Izuku was starting preschool. Her baby was going to school where, for once, he could interact with other children his age that were also deaf or hard of hearing. Inko had enrolled him in the best school for the education of students who were deaf that she could find near her. Letting him leave into the building that morning had been terrifying. She didn't know what would happen behind those walls, but she had to trust someone else to protect her baby for that time.
But when she'd picked him up that afternoon, he'd run out of the school full of smiles and laughter.
"Momma!" he signed with imperfect, slow motions and chubby fingers. "I made friends!"
"That's good, baby! I'm so proud of you," she replied
Inko felt tears gathering in her eyes before she could stop them. Not tears of fear or worry. But tears of-
"Momma, why are you crying?" Izuku asked.
"Because I'm happy, baby," she said.
"But you're crying?"
"Sometimes, people cry when they're happy, Izu."
She pulled her son tightly into her arms. A good day in a good school was a minor success in the life of a parent, but to Inko, it felt monumental.
It wasn't until his third year, when Izuku had been integrated into a general education classroom and the bullying began, that Inko had realized just how naïve she actually was.
Izuku
6 Years Later...
Izuku hated school. He hated it. He hated going onto to sit in class without being able to truly, sincerely interact with anyone around him. Sure, he had an interpreter who was great. She was an older woman with close-cropped, grey, curling hair. Her name was Kobayashi-san, and he really liked her. She was amazing. It was just...The way the others interacted with him. His teacher was sweet. His only concern with her was the way she looked at him with pity. He always caught her eyes staring at his hands as he signed even though he knew she didn't understand what he was signing. His classmates, however, were probably the worst part. He hated interacting with people who really weren't interested in him as a person and only in the game of "who could make the loudest sound that maybe Izuku could hear".
He hated it. He hated it all.
But he couldn't bring himself to tell his mom about the bullying again. The last time he had was in his third year. She cried. A lot, and that made Izuku feel more guilty than anything. He didn't want her to cry anymore over things she couldn't control and things that weren't her fault.
Izuku knew his mother blamed herself for everything that Izuku went through. For him being deaf. For him struggling to read in his first year. For him getting bullied in his third year. He knew for a fact. And even though she blamed herself, though, he didn't blame her. He never could. She'd done everything that she could for him. That didn't stop the thoughts she had, of course. He knew that much. It took a lot more to change his mom's mind. She was stubborn like that. She'd told him once, when he was old enough to understand exactly what her words meant, how exactly the doctors believed his deafness was caused. She'd told him and she'd cried. He hated it when she cried from sadness or pain or hurt, and he never wanted to be the cause for that if he could help it.
So, telling her what was going on now, how the other students sent him mean notes and pushed him around when the teacher wasn't looking... He couldn't tell her. It would crush her.
It was the end of the school day. Izuku left the classroom with his backpack on his shoulders and a small sketchbook in his hands. He loved this sketchbook. It had been a gift from his mother for his tenth birthday. That was just before summer break began, and now that fall was on its way, he had already filled it halfway.
He'd grown up loving comics. When his parents separated, one of the things his father had left behind was his collection of comic books. It was how he'd discovered All Might, the hero of all heroes. He'd found them one night two years prior when he and his mom were cleaning out the front hall closet of their apartment. His mom was fully prepared to donate them, but the moment Izuku saw the bright reds, blues, and yellows and shining smile that decorated the cover, he had been sucked in. It was the first thing he'd truly loved to read once he'd learned. It had developed into his love for reading that he had now. It made him understand why it was so amazing to dive into the world of the make-believe. These days, he could sit and read All Might all day and night, if his mother would let him.
Comic books had inspired him to learn to draw and write, too. That sketchbook of his was filled with his own comic books. And even though they were amateur at best, he was proud of them. He had made himself the superhero of his own story that saved people with a smile on his face, just like All Might. He brought that sketchbook with him everywhere.
As he walked, he kept his head up and his eyes focused on his surroundings. Being deaf meant that he had to be hyper aware of his surroundings. He had to be much more attentive visually than anyone else. Usually, he was very good about it. He didn't bump into people that often, and he stayed out of everyone else's way. He only wished he'd been gifted with an additional pair of eyes in the back of his head.
A pair of hands found themselves wedged between his shoulder blades. Izuku was shoved forward and sent sprawling. His sketchbook flew from his hand and skittered across the tiles. He looked up at the perpetrator, his viridian eyes wide. It was a boy in his class and the usual person who bullied him and made his life miserable. Ito Kenji. Izuku looked at him and offered him a watery smile. Ito-kun's lips moved to say something, but they moved too fast for Izuku to actually read them. The words were followed with a laugh. This was how it usually went. The laugh came and then pain. So he squeezed his eyes shut so he wouldn't see it coming.
A foot connected with his ribs, knocking all of the air from his lungs. It was a swift and brutal blow and it wasn't followed by anything else. It never was. The faster it was over, the easier it was to get away with it...
Izuku curled in on himself, and he coughed through his burning attempts to get air into his lungs. His eyes stung as he tried to hold back the tears that would only cause worse bullying in the future.
Ito-kun walked away from him and continued his way down the hall, stopping only to pick up Izuku's sketchbook. The greenette's heart dropped as a malicious smile spread onto the other boy's lips. He held up the sketchbook so Izuku could see it, gave it a little wave, and shoved it under his arm as he walked away.
Izuku stared as he walked away. Part of him wanted to chase after him and demand to have his sketchbook back, but the other part of him knew what a dumb idea that was. There was no way that he could physically take on Ito-kun. He was taller and stronger than Izuku. And he didn't have the voice to say anything, either. He was pathetic and weak. So, he didn't go after him. He simply forced himself to his feet and walked home with sad hunched shoulders and a searing pain in his ribs that made it hard to breathe.
At least he'd have the new episode of All Might: The Animated Series to watch that evening after dinner.
Izuku walked into his and his mom's apartment and toed off his shoes. When he bent over to put them into their place on the shoe rack, he felt the soreness from Ito-kun's kick. He wasn't going to tell him mom, of course. If she asked, he'd just tell her that the sit-ups in PE did him in or something.
The greenette made his way through the apartment, looking for his mother. It was an easier task than normal. He just had to follow his nose. The smells that were coming from the kitchen were heavenly. When he entered the room, he knocked on the doorframe to announce his presence to his mother. They'd both learned that when he was younger he was too quiet for his own good when he entered a room. He'd nearly given her a heart attack on several occasions before they'd come up with their knocking method.
His mother turned from where she stood at the stove, giving him a big, excited smile that he mirrored.
"Izu!" she signed. "How was your day?"
He gave her another smile. "It was good," he lied.
It was times like these that he was glad he didn't speak. He'd be a terrible liar, and he knew it. Signing allowed him to get away with so much more.
"Good, honey," she replied.
"What are you making? It smells good."
"Your favorite."
"Katsudon?" he asked, his face glowing. There was nothing better than ending a bad day with his favorite meal and TV show.
His mom nodded.
"What's the occasion? You never make it unless there's a good reason."
"You know me too well. I'm going to have to start shaking it up a little bit," she said. "I actually invited someone over dinner tonight."
Izuku's brows shot up. That was new. His mom never invited anyone over for dinner. It was just too awkward and difficult, what with Izuku only able to understand parts of the conversation that were signed to him.
"Who is it? Someone from work? Is it Ms. Lu from the hospital? I really like her."
She tilted her head from side to side as if contemplating her answer.
"No. It's not someone from work, but I met him because of work. I met him through one of those dating websites my coworkers signed me up for."
His brows shot up even higher, hiding behind his curling bangs. Him? That was a surprise. He remembered his mom only having dated one person after she and his dad split. Izuku hadn't liked him very much. He was very rude and tried to get Izuku to speak even though he was very clearly uncomfortable with it. His mother broke up with him not much longer after that initial meeting.
If she was bringing someone else around, that had to mean that she really liked him.
"You have a new boyfriend?" he asked.
She nodded hesitantly. "I think he's good. You'll like him. He's not like the last guy," she said. "He's down to earth and very funny. You'll like him."
He nodded eagerly. "Does he like All Might?" he asked.
His mother smiled mysteriously. "You'll have to ask him when he gets here, now won't you."
The arrival of their guest was marked with a knock on the door that Izuku couldn't hear. But his mom specifically informed him of her boyfriend's arrival and asked him if he could get the door as she was still getting ready. Of course, he obliged.
Izuku opened the door and was about to sign his usual greetings when he realized just who was standing in the doorway of his apartment. It was a tall, well-built man. He had sharp, blue eyes and bright blond hair. It was spiky with some longer bits in the front that acted as bangs. Izuku recognized him immediately.
Yagi Freaking Toshinori.
From the way his vocal cords rumbled and the wince that appeared on Yagi-san's face, the sound that was emitted from Izuku's body was loud and shrill. He could actually feel the thundering footsteps of his mother as she likely ran across the apartment to get to him to make sure that he was okay.
Izuku jumped up and down in front of Yagi-san, his face lit up with excitement. He looked up at his mother, whose features were morphing quickly from concern to amusement. She said something to Yagi-san, which he assumed was an apology.
"Izuku, calm down," she signed, a smile plastered onto her lips.
He did the best he could, but he couldn't wipe the grin from his face each time he looked at the man in the doorway. Which he realized he was being incredibly rude to by making him stand in the hallway. He stepped aside and gestured for him to enter.
Once the man was situated and sitting at the table, Izuku took the time to introduce himself.
"I'm Izuku. I'm a huge fan of yours. I love the original TV series from the 90s, and I know you voice All Might in All Might: The Animated Series," he said, his hands moving rapidly. "I'm sure you did amazing in that, too, even though I can't really tell since I can't hear it. But. Oh. My. Gosh. I'm such a big fan!"
His mom looked over at him nervously. "Izu, slow down," she signed. "He can't read."
But Yagi-san was speaking to his mom, a smile on his lips, the same kind that he used in the All Might live action series. And then, something he didn't expect happened. Yagi-san started signing.
"I appreciate you liking my work so much, Young Midoriya," he said.
Izuku nearly died on the spot. 'Young Midoriya'.
"You know sign language?" he asked.
Yagi-san nodded. "A friend of mine growing up was deaf. I'll admit, I'm rusty, but I caught most of what you said."
The rest of dinner went really well. Amazing even. Never in his wildest dreams had Izuku thought his mom would start dating the Yagi Toshinori, who insisted to be called Toshinori. They even watched the new episode of All Might: The Animated series together. Izuku was over the moon.
Izuku's sketchbook sat innocently o his desk the next morning, but what was inside wasn't innocent. When he opened the cover, he was horrified. All of his comics, his art, his ideas... They were all written over with dark read and black markers and pens, like what happened to Max's dream journal in that old movie, Shark Boy and Lava Girl. He sat down in his seat, defeated. His hands were clenched into fists. Ito-kun sat in front of him. Izuku could see his shoulders shaking with laughter. He wanted so badly to chuck his soiled sketchbook at the back of his head, but Izuku refrained.
It's not what All Might would have done. It's not what a hero would do. He had to figure out a way to overcome this... His mom always told him to kill it with kindness. Maybe he could do that... If they didn't break his spirit first, of course. He sighed gently. No. He wouldn't let them break him. His mom always told him not to let anyone call him broken. He couldn't call himself that either, because then what would be the reason she'd fought so hard to defend him all of those years. They wouldn't break him.
His resolve hardened, and he came up with some semblance of a plan.
The next day of school, Izuku came prepared with a single panel of a neatly drawn comic. It featured Ito-kun as a hero with a really awesome ability he called Ice Breath. Everyone in their class thought it was cool, and it developed some level of respect with Ito-kun after that. Of course, they still teased him and said mean things behind his back, but at least they refrained from physically harming again. He could live with their words that he couldn't hear so long as they stopped hurting him. He'd settle for that much.
1 Year Later...
Izuku wiped his sweaty hands on his pants legs for the third time. He was nervous. Extremely nervous. He, his mother, and Toshinori were at the audiologist for an appointment that would change Izuku's life.
Finally, at eleven years old, he was going to get his first pair of hearing aids. Was he excited? Yes. Was he nervous? Double yes. Was he terrified that sound wouldn't be what he thought it would be? Absolutely. Izuku had wanted hearing aids for most of his life, at least the parts when he realized how helpful sound would be. And finally, he was getting them. The only reason this was possible was because of Toshinori.
Toshinori and his mother had been together for about a year and a half now and had gotten engaged the month before. Toshinori had actually taken Izuku out for ramen before it happened. In between eating and conversations about comic books and All Might, Toshinori had wiggled in a rather big question. How would he feel if he asked his mother to marry him? He'd been so over the moon that he'd burst into tears on the spot. It had startled the blond into thinking he'd done something wrong. After collecting himself, Izuku had insisted that he hadn't and told him that he'd love it. He'd love to have a family again.
After the engagement, Toshinori had offered something that neither he or his mother had ever dreamed over. He offered to pay for Izuku's hearing aids. Izuku had gone his entire life without them and had been fine. Sure, he always wondered what things sounded like, but he would have been fine never knowing.
Toshinori had asked if he'd ever wanted to, though, and of course, he'd said yes. He'd never imagined the man would go the extra mile and get him fitted for a pair, especially with how expensive they were.
He glanced at his mother as his teeth clamped down on his lower lip. All three of them had nerves that left the room stiff and staticky. He didn't know what to do with himself, especially with the nervous air that surrounded them.
"Are you ready?" his mom translated for the audiologist.
He nodded. "Mom?"
"Yes baby?"
"I want to hear you first," he said. "Your voice is the first sound I want to hear."
He watched as his mother relayed his message verbally. The audiologist then looked at him, a smile on his features. He nodded, and Izuku took that as a good sign.
The audiologist picked up the hearing aids and took them out of the manufacturer's box. Izuku studied them. They looked like small, little earbuds. Attached to the earbuds was an external device that would wrap around his ear. He'd seen a sample of them once before when they'd originally picked out the device he'd wear. They'd decided on these because of how severe his hearing loss was.
The audiologist fitted the devices around his ears and turned them on. There was a strange noise - maybe a beep? - that made Izuku's brows rise. His mother smiled at him.
"Are you ready?" she signed.
Izuku nodded. "I'm ready."
There was a pregnant pause that seemed to last an eternity. Izuku wiped his hands on his pants again. He was nervous, but he was ready. It was now or nothing. There was no turning back now.
"Hey Izuku," his mother said.
Izuku blinked at her, and his mouth popped open, stunned. Her voice was beautiful. It was soft and quiet, probably because the hearing aids weren't turned up all the way. But even though it was quiet, it was still beautiful, probably the most beautiful he'd ever hear. It was a perfect choice for his introduction to sound.
He smiled. His mother laughed in response. That was beautiful, too. Soft. Tinkling. Like, like... He had no idea what to compare it to. His emotions were already piling. Tears welled up in his eyes and trickled over his lower lids.
"How does it feel? To hear sounds?" another voice asked. This one was low and deep. His eyes shifted, searching for the owner. They landed on Toshinori. So that's what All Might sounded like.
"Strange," he signed. "I kind of want to know what I sound like."
"Go ahead, baby," his mom said. She sounded almost as choked up as he felt.
He nodded. "Him mom," he said quietly. He was surprised by the sound of his voice. It was high. His words were soft and rounded. They didn't sound as crisp and clear as his mother's or Toshinori. But they were okay. He'd practice, and he'd get to their level. One day.
Izuku heard another foreign noise. His eyes found the owner, and he quickly realized what it was. A sob. His mom was crying, too. The tears that trickled down his face quickly turned into a downpour as the emotions inside of him burst forth.
He got up from where he was sitting, wrapped his arms around his mom, and cried. He cried because he was overwhelmed, yes, but mostly because he was happy. Happy because sounds were beautiful. Because his mother's voice was beautiful. Because her laugh was beautiful. He never wanted to listen to silence again.
3 Months Later
It took about three months for Izuku to get used to his hearing aids, and in that time, he exclusively wore them at home. They were sensitive to all of the sounds, and it just took some time to get used to all of the frequencies. In the meantime, he'd gotten started on speech therapy. He knew the words. He was a pretty decent reader. SO, learning to speak wasn't too hard. It was mostly learning to enunciate and pronounce words correctly, which proved difficult as most of the time, he had trouble hearing his own voice. Self-correcting his errors was a challenge and a half.
He was excited to wear his hearing aids, to start speaking in class after his adjustment period had concluded. When he'd gotten to the building, all of the sounds were a little more than overwhelming. He heard snippets of conversations, shoes squeaking on the floor, locker doors slamming. Izuku almost couldn't wait to escape the cacophony of noises that threatened to overwhelm him.
He'd gotten to class early, before any of the other students so that he could speak to his teacher. Their conversation was brief. She was happy for him to get hearing aids, to be speaking, and told him she'd be conscious of how fast she spoke so that he could keep up.
He was quiet as the other students came into the room. He listened to their sleepy chatter, his own anticipation bubbling inside of him. He didn't speak until halfway through homeroom when his teacher asked him a question. They had been talking about the upcoming career day at school, which he'd been anticipating. Everyone was going to bring someone to speak to the class over the following school week. His day was Monday.
"Izuku, who are you bringing?" she asked.
His translator signed what she'd said, which Izuku was grateful for. His nerves had made him miss the question entirely beyond his name.
He paused for a moment because he cleared his throat and said, "I'm bringing my mom's fiance. He's an actor."
There was a slight, stunned silence before the slight snickers and murmurs broke out through the room. Izuku didn't catch the ones that were further away, but the ones that were close by...
"Why does his voice sound so weird?"
"Is he talking with marbles in his mouth?"
"Nah, it sounds like his tongue is too big for his mouth."
"Maybe he's just stupid?"
Izuku's face burned with shame. He tried to sink lower and lower into his seat so he could hide from all of their judgemental words. Never once before had he heard any of them. He'd always had the fortune of listening to silence when they taunted him. He wanted it yet again.
So when the attention had been finally focused away from him by the admonishments from their teacher, he pulled the devices from his ears shamefully and tucked them neatly into their travel case. He didn't wear them again for the rest of the day. And anytime the tormenting got bad, he made a point to take them out, too, just so he wouldn't hear it.
It wasn't until the start of high school, after he'd spent an entire summer in behavioral and speech therapy, that he'd gotten some semblance of confidence in himself. It only got better once he'd met his best friends, Ochako, Shouto, and Tenya, that he'd been able to speak without fear of being judged and ridiculed. Those people gave him so much support and love, and it meant the world to him.
Because of them, he'd finally found his voice.
