Down the Rabbit Hole
Where Do You Belong
Consciousness tickles at the back of her mind, brought about by the clink of a glass and the ever so quiet, "fuck" of someone in her kitchen. She grumbles, snuggling deeper into her pillow, which in this case, is Tsu's side as she cracks one eye open.
It's predawn, or maybe post, but the pink sunlight that's peeking through the blinds isn't quite enough to encourage her brain to wake up.
At the moment, spite is her only fuel, and it's only enough to give a half-hearted glare at the man easing about her kitchen like the floor is covered in eggshells.
"Close the fridge." She hisses.
"Sorry." He murmurs, and the yellow light of the fridge vanishes, and she snaps her eyes closed.
It takes a moment, only a moment for her sleep addled brain to pick through the moment in time.
Izuku Midoriya is in her kitchen getting a glass of water using her Totoro mug.
Izuku Midoriya is in her kitchen getting a glass of water.
Izuku Midoriyais in her kitchen.
Izuku Midoriya.
"Oh, you bitch." She snarls, eyes snapping open as her Quirk boils to life in her stomach.
Gravity gone; she launches herself off the couch. If it bothers Tsu or Mina, she misses it in the frantic panicked look that Izuku give her, mouth frozen open and emerald eyes going wide.
A length of fabric snares around her waist, and with a jerk and a yank, she's off course and spinning through the air into her bedroom. Another flip, and she's staring face to face with her ex-sensei- Aizawa. He nods at her, placing a finger over his lips before bending down.
"I'm watching him. He's not getting away." He assures her. "And he's not opening that wound back up again."
She glowers at him but can't argue for fear of waking up theFIVE other ProHeroes nestled up in her living room. So instead she wrinkles her nose and sticks her tongue out at the man.
It ruins his serious expression, and the telltale quirk of his lip blooms into a smirk as he pulls away.
Izuku returns, feet light on the carpet, but he's looking as if the movement is giving everything he's got. And even in the dim light of predawn, she can see the sheen of sweat on his forehead, the heavy way he heaves one foot after the next towards her bed.
He glances at her, and his emerald eyes spark to life, a glistening green that has her anger boiling to life once again, and a different heat settling in her chest.
Oh, she could kill him!
Oh, she could kiss him.
He's alive.
He's so dead.
She grits her teeth instead, nodding to Aizawa. The fabric around her waist uncurls, and she cancels her Quirk, letting her weight return as she gets to her feet.
The three of them exchange a look, but whatever talking there is to be done, has to wait until morning, when either it's more appropriate to talk, or all the other Heroes have left. It's a price that Uraraka's going to have to pay, since the words that are clawing up the back of her throat demand to be yelled, not whispered, and her fingers simultaneously want to rip out those precious green locks of hair, as well as comb through them.
She's not entirely sure how she feels about the situation.
"In the morning." Izuku's voice startles her, mostly because it's croaked, dry and crackly, but he smiles at her like she's an oasis in the desert.
So, her heart melts a bit.
It's fine.
Really.
"In the morning." She agrees, nodding her head sharply and slipping out the door. She closes it, unsure why she has considering who is occupying it.
Not like Aizawa cares for the privacy. He's either been dragged in or has freely invaded every aspect of their Hero and personal lives.
Her living room is a mess from last night. The blood stain is blaringly present on the carpet by the door, and pizza boxes and empty snack bowls are discarded around the room. Momo and Todoroki have curled up around the coffee table, and Kirishima has curled up on the loveseat like some sort of dog.
She's not completely sure that's an inaccurate description.
Tsu and Mina have shifted, filling in the space she'd occupied on the couch, but leaving the end open. And while cuddling with the Alien Queen isn't on her all-time highs, because it almost always ends up with her face breaking out a week later, it's better than sharing the floor with the love birds or the too small loveseat with Kirishima.
She slips into the gap, tugging the blanket back as she curls up. Sleep returns swiftly, and in exchange, so does true morning.
It comes with quiet hisses of pain and some mild whimpering, and the sizzle of pancake batter in a pan. It's a pleasing smell, homey and warm and just…
Mmmm.
Who's cooking?
"Coffee." And the word is coarse and scratchily said, but boy does it filter through her mind like the words of an angel.
She blinks, barely awake as she accepts the steaming hot cup of life-giving liquid. One sip turns into two, and when caffeine finally hits her system and she cracks open her eyes, she's greeted with emerald eyes and a smile that should be illegal it's so bright.
"Good morning sunshine." Izuku murmurs, voice still hoarse, bags still under his eyes but damn.
She didn't know she needed him getting her coffee in the morning for her life to be complete.
"Mmmm. Morning Izuku." She hums back, taking another sip of coffee.
He leaves, slips away somewhere between her eyes closing to savor the warmth of the mug and actually processing her morning.
There are seven Pro Heros in her apartment.
And one villain.
Her eyes snap back open, going wide as he mouth drops open.
"Iz-" She snaps her head to the side, words falling away to nothing as she stares at Aizawa manning her stove, a spatula in one hand and a bowl of pancake batter in the other.
Izuku has frozen one hand holding an iced coffee. He blinks a few times at her, slowly cocking an eyebrow. She watches in shock as he eases across the room.
Each step is tentative, careful even, and his right leg shakes when he picks it up. His left hand is tucked in the pocket of her extra-large sweatpants, and the reason why is the hefty bandage that's covering most of that shoulder. He lows the coffee to the table, setting it down in the middle.
"Todoroki." He murmurs softly, and the half and half hero grumbles, blinking away.
If it bothers him that he's woken up to a face/mouth full of Yaomomo's hair, he doesn't show it. Instead he just hums, sitting up slightly as one hang wraps around Momo's waist, keeping her pressed tightly to his chest as he reaches for the coffee.
"Milk?" He blearily asks, and Izuku nods.
"Iced, milk instead of cream." He replies, easing away to pour another cup- presumably for another of the heroes.
It's an arduous process, but one she watches with interest as Izuku navigates the little space between her coffee maker, the mug cabinet, and back to the respective Heroes around the room.
It's so relaxed, almost even normal as he eases them away with a gentle word, pressing the warm cup of coffee into their hands. He holds it, waits for fingers to fumble with the handle, tentatively outstretched to catch and pull it away if the recipient drops it. And then he drifts away to let them enjoy it and return to the world of the living on their own time.
She could wake up to this every morning.
He could get her coffee.
He could mingle with her friends, laugh at their jokes.
The silence is ruined by Kirishima's phone going off, and the barely awake hero answering it with a groan.
"Wh-"He jerks the phone away from his head, and even from the couch, she can hear Bakugo screaming into the receiver.
"Dude, dude, Bakubro." Kirishima grumbles, "I just woke up. Gimme a minute alright?" There's a pause and the man grimaces. "No man. It's movie night. You forget? We're at Uraraka's."
"Is that Kacchan?" Izuku asks from across the room.
"Mmm." Kirishima replies, tilting the phone towards him. Izuku shakes his head, pursing his lips with an unamused look. "Look, I'll get there as soon as I can. Yeah yeah, ream me out later. Last night was hell. I'll tell you about it later." And he ends the call with a huff, dropping the phone onto the floor and draining his mug.
"It's still creepy you know my coffee order." Kirishima says, setting the empty mug down on the coffee table, looking across the room to Rabbit.
Izuku has eased himself into one of her barstools, good hand pressed to his side, and his left carefully relaxed in her sweatpants pocket. He smiles, cocking an eyebrow at Kirishima.
"Four pages, three sketches, one autograph, and it's your coffee order that throws you for a loop?" He snorts, shaking his head. "How are you coming with the tip I gave you?"
And it's a shock, how Kirishima shrugs, easing himself to his feet and across the room. It's startling how comfortable the room is as Red Riot leans against the counter to discus his quirk with Rabbit. How they snip back and forth at each other as Aizawa cooks pancakes in her kitchen.
She takes another sip of coffee and finds her own mug empty. She sets it down, wriggling out of the tangle of limbs she, Mina, and Tsu had gotten into last night to refill it.
"Oh, Uraraka-" Izuku goes to stand, then faulter, one leg buckling as his good arm slaps the counter to compensate. Kirishima catches him, offering a 'woah woah there bunny boy.' As he sets him back in the stool.
Izuku grimaces, biting his lip and tilting his head back. A sharp inhale, a slow exhale as he squeezes his eyes closed. "Someone get Todoroki up, I think I just cracked this one open." He says breathlessly.
"Already there." Todoroki groans, "but…" He holds up a finger. "I'm not moving for a villain."
Izuku's face twists into something between a smirk and a scowl, but he leaves himself off the stool, legs holding firm this time as he staggers one step forward. Then another.
"Izu-"She starts.
"It's fine." He snarls, "I earned it." And he drops onto her coffee table with a huff and a thump.
Todoroki just hums, freeing his right arm from Momo's side and using his left for peel back the bandage.
Last night it had been a puckering hole bleeding out all over the place. This morning, it was a neat and tidy, circular in shape and perhaps the size of her thumb. Blood still oozed out of it, and with a glance at Midoriya's expression, Todoroki put his thumb over it, covering the hole.
"It's going to hurt." He warned.
"I'm used to it." Izuku replies.
There's a flash, and then a sizzling of heat. Izuku's teeth gnash together, his head snapping back as he exhales, hard and fast. He's hyperventilating, but his eyes are focused on her ceiling.
A crackle happens, and then Todoroki pulls his hand away, the hole pink and blistered, but no longer bleeding. He slides his left hand over it, and a dusting of ice appears on it.
"You didn't pass out." He murmurs it like it's a surprise, but she knows Shoto well enough to know it's a compliment.
Izuku whimpers and nods, breathing a bit slower now as he presses his hand to the cauterized wound. "You're getting better with the fire."
Todoroki hums, non-committal. "So, I listened to your tip. It's…" he shrugs. "Not unfounded advice."
Izuku smiles, though the expression looks forced. "I help the heroes that I like."
"Pancakes for the ones that aren't bitching at each other or ruining more of Uraraka's carpet." Aizawa calls from the kitchen, and those seem to be the magic words.
Her friends abandon the coffee table, leaving her and Izuku staring at each other as they clamber over pancakes.
"I'm gonna have to leave in a bit-"Kirishima says around a mouth full. "Otherwise Bakugo's going to be kicking in the door looking for me."
"Mmm. We have morning patrol too." Momo adds, looking only half awake despite her paging through her phone's calendar. Shoto hums again, nursing his iced coffee like it's his reason to live.
And honestly?
She can't really blame him.
"Pinky? Froppy?" Izuku asks, cocking an eyebrow at him. "You sticking around?"
"No-Ribbit." Tsu replies, idly picking at one of her pancakes. "But I'm all for the interesting gossip you and Ochaco have." She winks at him. "Let me know if it gets steamy."
"Oooh? Things are already at that stage?" Mina turns, a devious smile on her lips. "Oh honey you should have told me!"
She groans, while Izuku sputters, and the red that's infecting his neck and cheeks is so much better than the red spilling out of him last night. He shakes his head, waving his hands frantically.
"NO no! I mean! I'd never-not that I wouldn' like-but I'm not going- We aren't!" He stutters.
"Your hands go near her pants," Aizawa interrupts, walking around the kitchen counter, two plates held in either hand. "Then I'm cutting them off like you did Shigaraki's." He thrusts the plates into their respective hands.
"Kill confirmed." Kirishima shouts, with a clatter of a plate, a snappy finger guns motion at Izuku, the rock-hard Hero is out the door.
If that bothers any of the other occupants, they don't show it, and instead seem to be absorbed in their breakfast. Izuku joins them, carefully meandering his way to lean on the counter across from them as opposed to in the middle of them.
And its…
Unfair
Blatantly
Obviously
Painfully
Unfair how much he looks like he belongs there.
Her heart stutters in her chest, squeezing in on itself to the point she thinks she's going to pass out of forget how to breathe all together. And then he just looks up at her and smiles, giving her a wink as he slides an empty plate to the side, gesturing for her to join them.
And it… fits.
It works.
Breakfast banter is as normal. Todoroki and Izuku trade snippets of ideas about Quirk fighting, Izuku mentioning something about temperature regulating and venting opposite sides? She didn't catch all of it. She's too preoccupied trying to not meet Tsuyu's gaze and keep up a steady flow of conversation between Mina and Yaomomo.
And when they trickle out, it's like they're all friends. Todoroki and Izuku shake hands, and Izuku assures him that he'll be in touch with some information on the smuggling operations. Tsu is still giving her that look, that smug, half-knowing, half-suspecting, the 'We're gonna leave and it's going to go from T to M rated really fast' look and honestly, she just…
Ugh.
Can't handle this right now.
"Free to come in now?"
Son of a bitch.
She cranes her neck to the side, staring at the head in her just recently closed door. Blonde. Symbolic. Now plastered on most billboards with the title "Symbol of Hope!"
"Lemillion, did you bring Eri?" Izuku doesn't look phased in the slightest as he eases around the counter, one careful step after the other.
"Naturally." And a hand joins the head, unlocking the apartment door and letting the Hero and his adopted daughter in.
"Uncle Rabbit!" Eri squeals, darting across the room and throwing herself into Izuku's arms.
She's glad there's a couch there, and not the floor, because Izuku topples over like a stack of cards, and while he whimpers in pain, the expression doesn't show on his face as he squeezes Eri tight.
"Oh my girl, you got so big since I last saw you!" His voice is nearly hoarse, strained, but his smile is radiant as she rushes over.
A touch of her hand, and whatever painful weight Eri is putting on Izuku is nullified, but that point is shortly muted as Mirio steps in, pulling her off Izuku and into his arms.
"Easy now Eri." Mirio cautions, setting her on the ground safe and sound. "Uncle Rabbit is a bit banged up. We don't want to hurt him do we?"
Eri grimaces, and the expression looks genuine. But it turns into a grin as she sees who's in the kitchen. "Papa!" She exclaims, and she's gone again, across the room and throwing herself into Aizawa's waiting arms.
It's heartwarming and tooth-rottingly-sweet, and expecially to see just how much she's grown. She was six, maybe seven her first year, and while she'd seen her fleetingly since then, she hadn't seen her since UA. And now, the girl was almost a teenager by the look, touching on puberty but every bit as sweet and loving as she was as a child.
As can be seen in Aizawa happily making another round of pancakes, still holding Eri in one arm as he does so.
And if it bothered the Underground Hero to have a thirteen-year-old in one hand and a frying pan in the other, it didn't show in the least.
"What are you here for Lemillion?" Izuku asks, and she has to turn back to the conversation because the tone change is obvious.
Lemillion hums and shrugs. "I think we both know. Two things."
"You're not getting the first, and you already know my answer on the second."
"And if someone uses Uravity to get to you?" Lemillion furthers, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "You don't think that's a possibility?"
Izuku juts his chin out. "I might have lost Dimajio, but my network is far from dismantled. If there's even half a thought in anyone's mind about touching her, then I'll know, and they'll be shut down, disowned, and dismantled before they can even think to do more than look up her name."
She swallows, stepping between the two. "Hey, I'm here too you know. I can take care of myself."
"Never said you couldn't sunshine." Izuku hums back, "but Mirio here is worrying someone will you use to get One for All from me."
There's a heafty pause at that, like Mirio is stunned he'd say it out loud, and a look of confusion on her part as she turns to him.
"One for All?"
Izuku grins. "All-Might's quirk, and the one he gave to Mirio your first year at U.A." He chuckles then, gaze turning to Mirio. "Oh, but you lost that against Overhaul didn't you? A trickle of blood, a snippet of hair, it's not that hard to actually steal now that you think about it. There's a reason Eri couldn't restore it by the way, though I'm sure you tried more than once. One for All is passed on, can't be given back."
Mirio purses his lips. "Give it back to me Rabbit. I know you have it somewhere."
And for just a moment, Uraraka can understand why Rabbit is a villain and not a vigilante. Why the name is associated with information and all-knowing powers and dark plans.
She can see it in those emerald eyes that still light up like stars when he looks at her, and how at the moment they look bottomless and gazed over. She can see it in how his teeth flash in his smile, predatory and devious as he leans back into her couch.
"It's safe where it is Mirio. Not being used, not being flaunted. And locked away in a place where it can disappear."
Mirio growls, taking a step forward, but she intercepts, keeping the two from strangling each other. "It's supposed to be a legacy!" He grits out, "passed on from one hero to the next, a symbol of hope and strength for the next generation!"
"And you let it slip through your fingers!" Izuku hisses back. "After everything I gave you about Chisaki! Every bit of information I dug up, every secret and concoction he'd brewed, all the research, and you didn't see it coming? You're lucky you got Permeation back with Eri! You think I'd trust a dumbass like you to keep a superpower like One for All after that mess?" He huffs and rolls his eyes. "All for One is out of the picture anyways. The world doesn't need a quirk like One for All floating around."
"And if it does? If there's another superpower or disaster that happens? And we need that strength?"
Izuku glances at her, staring at her like she's the deciding factor for all his decisions. He huffs, "Then I guess you know who to ask for it."
She knows Lemillion isn't going to attack him.
She knows it because he's a hero, and that's not what he stands for.
She knows it because Izuku is injured, and even just sitting there on her couch, she can tell he's overexerting himself. The slight sheen of sweat on his limbs and torso, the heated look on his face.
The faint reddening of the bandage at his shoulder.
Still, it surprises her when Mirio pulls back with a huff. He stalks around the coffee table, expression grim before looking back at Izuku.
"You're keeping One for All?" He finally asks, as if it's the most preposterous thing that's ever occurred to him.
"Of course." Izuku grimaces, cracking his neck before letting out a long slow sigh. "Why is that so hard to believe?"
"Because you're so adamant you… you're." A pause, a lapse in wording, because they all know what goes next.
Quirkless.
Izuku snorts. "Ah yes, the assumption that a Quirkless boy like me couldn't handle the safe keeping of a stupid overpowered Quirk like One for All is beyond you." He spits. "I should just trust it to the boy genius that was stupid enough to loose it and his own Quirk in the first place. Right?"
"That's not-"
"Damn right it's what you meant!" Izuku snarls, sitting up in the chair. He hesitates, then sighs. "Get out."
And it's like all the wind, the rage, all the fire and the storm that's been whipped up inside of him has vanished, extinguished in a word.
"Rabbit please. I'm trying to keep you safe."
He snorts. "You're seven years too late to be my Hero Lemillion." He shakes his head. "And quite a bit more if you really want to start digging that hole."
Lemillion huffs, shuffling his feet before looking around the kitchen, then to Uraraka.
"You'll…" He hesitates. "Nevermind."
"No no, ask her." Izuku pushes. "Ask her if she'd take it from me. Ask her if she'd take back your precious little quirk and bear that burden. Cause I'm sure that's all you care about Mirio. All-Might's precious quirk."
Lemillion grimaces. "That's not-" he shakes his head. "Nevermind." And he stalks off into the kitchen with another shake of his head. There's a short exchange there, and with a kiss of Eri's head, he's out the door without another word.
It's like the air has turned to concrete, and whatever peace had been in the room is thick with tension and discomfort. Izuku handles it the best, but his body handles it the worse. As soon as he sits up his leg spasms, and he has to put his good hand on it to stop.
"Back to bed with you little villain." Aizawa instructs, though his tone has little bite to it. "Ochaco, if you will." He looks preoccupied with Eri by his side, peacefully enjoying her breakfast.
She nods, and with a tap, she's got Izuku weightlessly on her shoulder, pulling him gently off the couch and into her room.
She leaves him floating in the air for a moment while she readjusts the bedding. Moving the pillows and pushies around, and recognizing that it's very likely these sheets will be forfeit, after the assortment of blood stains on them, she lowers him back down into the bed.
"Comfortable?" She asks.
He nods, bringing his hadn up to comb through his hair. She releases her quirk and her bed creates as his weight comes back suddenly.
"I could be more comfortable if you were here with me." He smiles lazily at her.
She gives him a look, and instead leans back against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest. "So scandalous. What would the media say?"
"Romance of the ages, a hero and a villain. Is he dragging her into the dark, or will she redeem him in the light?" He quips, but it's so readily on his tongue, she wonders if he's thought about it before.
"You've thought about it before?" She guesses.
"The media is always accounted for."
And she can't tell if his tone is exasperated, or just amused. So she lets it go, lets the conversation slip away into the silence of him resting, and her watching.
She watches the rise and fall of his chest. The stretch and pull of the bandages across muscles and scarred skin. He's decorated in them, little nicks and cuts on his arms, a few that criss cross on his fingers.
It's funny, she'd always seen him in gloves when they were out somewhere, hadn't even noticed he'd lost them until this morning, when the bare kiss of his fingers around her coffee cup met her own groggy ones.
"What's One for All?" She asks.
"A quirk that's been passed on from one hero to the next. It stockpiles the quirks of the previous user, gives them to the next to use. It's supposed to be a weapon to fight All for One." Izuku explains, eyes closed as he relaxes.
"All Might passed it on to Lemillion?" She asks.
"And then Lemillion lost it fighting Overhaul." Izuku explains.
"So why is he asking you for it back?"
Izuku cracks an eye open, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. "Why do you think sunshine?"