Disclaimer: I do not own BNHA or Harry Potter and any of their characters.
AN: Happy reading everyone!
When Izuku opens his wardrobe sometime after breakfast, he notices more than one difference in the stack of wearable Hero merchandise. It results in a short glance over his shoulder, jitters of anticipation vibrating in his chest.
If nothing else, Izuku is hoping for a prank of some sorts, one that he'll honestly welcome during any time of the day. But even after several minutes have gone past, there's no one to jump through his room, screaming 'Surprise!'.
It's illogical, he knows, but disappointment rolls in his gut anyway.
Hitoshi and Katsuki are both away for the short break from school. The former had gone to live with his mother's parents for a week, while the latter had left for his Gran's house to clean up and pay respect to the late Bakugou matriarch.
Nevertheless, Izuku feels the loneliness like how clothes churn and turn in the washing machine. It's unpleasant, making him woozy with the consistent longing for his best friends.
But moving back to the matter at hand-
First of all, there's simply more stuff than usual, which makes the boy frown a bit. Curiosity burns first and foremost in his mind, though, rather than annoyance. Inko has known better than to raise an ungrateful child and honestly, he might even be feeling a little bit happy.
Conflict is the emotion he's looking for; because at the same time, Kaa-san doesn't normally buy his clothes without at least bringing him along herself to choose, or taking a picture first.
What's curious is that the newest additions look expensive on top of new. Izuku gives a questioning hum before taking out a dark Midnight shirt with an empty triangle right below the soft collar. The design is feminine, but Izuku is also a horse, so anything gives.
With practiced ease, Izuku ties his shoulder length hair into a messy bun, soon pulling up a pair of grey sweatpants. "Kaa-san," he calls from the All-might plated door, "Was there a sale recently or something? I have more stuff to wear now."
His mother's head pops up from where she's crouched down behind the counter. "Ara, do you like them, Izuku? I got them from some of the kind baa-san and jii-san at the wet market. They said that no one in their family can wear it anymore, so they wanted you to use it. It's so nice of them, don't you think?"
Izuku doesn't voice any questions out loud even though he does experience a large wave of puzzlement at the situation. Licking his lips, nothing in there is old, the boy imagines saying. Inko hums as her fingers turn the knob on the stove, it lights with a few clicks. "Would you be a dear and chop the vegetables please, Izuku?"
Ever the dutiful son, he naturally agrees, so the comment will remain unsaid. Attention diverted, Izuku doesn't even spare a second glance the next time he pulls out a limited edition turtleneck of the elusive hero Eraserhead.
The mystery of the wardrobe filling up quicker in weeks than it has in years shows no signs of stopping anytime soon. Another funny thing among it, nevertheless, is what Izuku realizes next. They're having meat at least four times a week- a feat practically impossible in their household.
Hisashi's income is the mirror to how much Inko spends; as such, Izuku can only give a wobbly grimace when the boy sees his mother refraining from buying new skirts or kitchenware for herself.
Pityingly, they don't buy as much posters or figurines after the occasion dawns an epiphany upon Izuku. He tells himself that his mother is grateful despite the apologies she whispers by his bed.
Meat is expensive, but they've been having it so often lately. So, "Kaa-san," Izuku blinks, registering up a familiar sense déjà vu. Inko's response is a hum. School's starting today, and Izuku's always been an early riser. Sometimes more so than his mother.
Today is one of those days, where he had fallen asleep while standing, and had woken up to the slightest of sounds. Izuku is already out by the counter when Inko leaves her room to start making breakfast and packing her son's lunchbox.
"We've been having meat a lot, huh." He tries, because being subtle is not really a skill he's been practicing. Maybe he will one day, but for now, he waits for his mother's eyes to light up with realisation. How are we affording this? Did the market people give you food too?
He's eleven this year, he can handle a few household matters. His mother doesn't have to be ashamed of anything, Izuku understands everything perfectly and he really just wants to help. Well, at least that's how it looks in his head anyway. The conversation doesn't flow any further than that when Katsuki's characteristic doorbell rings fill the apartment.
The bell-like gongs are rapid and impatient, exactly like how Izuku feels. It's exasperating when Katsuki does that. Especially for his sharp sense of hearing, Izuku has reminded his friend countless of times that ringing twice was more than enough.
Katsuki hates listening, as usual. The sound of Hitoshi reprimanding the blond also reaches his ears, however, and Izuku can't help the fondness that creeps up like an unsuspecting predator. "Coming!" the Thestral yells from one end of the apartment.
"Deku!" "Izu!" they both gushed immediately after the door squeaks open. Katsuki playfully wrestles him into a head noogie, his grin is as sharp as ever. Hitoshi waits till his friends are finished before enveloping Izuku into a warm hug. "I've missed you." The violet-haired boy smiles, "And the stupid firecracker also, I guess."
The greeting shouldn't be making him feel any warmer, but Izuku brushes of the denial with ease. He's ecstatic to have his friends back. "I missed you both too, Hitocchan, Kacchan."
"Of course! I wouldn't expect anything less for me, nerd. Good morning, Aunty Inko. What's this? Is there a celebration or something you have beef and- shit- a square watermelon! My mom always said those villain-damned conmen will go to hell when they make them pricey as f- frick!"
There's a chime of laughter that comes from the kitchen. His mother seems to find infinite amusement whenever Katsuki comes over; Hitoshi is laughing too, hands covering the snicker.
"Ah! Kacchan! You forgot to take your basket with you."
The boy in question turns his head at the statement. Hitoshi looks confused, hands tensing because there are no gifts to leave behind. He'd walked with Katsuki the entire way here. "His Majesty Murder didn't bring a basket when we left," Hitoshi informs as he sees Izuku carry the well weaved carrier into the apartment.
"Yeah, I didn't." Katsuki admits, tone slightly weary. "Put the unknown shit down Deku. Didn't Aunty Inko tell you not to pick random stuff up from wherever."
Izuku does, settling it down by the corridor. Sniffling subtly to pick up on anything unfamiliar from the gift basket, all he gets are sweet scents of fresh fruit. "It's safe, I think. There's apple and oranges; even pears and grapes! An' If it wasn't you who brought this," the boy points, "- Kacchan, then who did?"
Inko wipes her wet hands on the wide space of her apron. "Can you find any cards, Izuku? Close the door, please, it's getting cold out." Or there could be some creep, she doesn't say. Seeing Izuku shake his head with the implication of no makes the mother's protective instincts hiss. The worst case scenario spins tales in her head like an untameable cyclone, "Izuku. Don't touch that, and come here."
Trotting over with solid hooves against the hard wood, Inko takes little more than 10 minutes before she's hurdling her boys into the car. "Where're we going?' one of them asks and the mother of three naturally says that it's the police station.
Unfortunately, the Midoriya matriarch is brushed off. To be fair, there's nothing to indicate any danger, plus the incident is a first as well. A policewoman is sent when Katsuki screams at the counter person's face. A compromise, considering Hitoshi volunteers to Brainwash someone for a proper investigation.
(Izuku feels proud, he really does, with the fact that his first friend is finally comfortable with his own Quirk, but is that ethical…?)
With a curt introduction of her name, the police folk inform them that the policewoman with narrow eyes has a Quirk that allows her to sense the intent behind an inanimate object of the person that last touched it. The information doesn't come from herself as the lady's already busy with her eyes closed, mind reaching far into a space where normal people cannot reach.
With a gasp, Izuku flinches when a crack literally echoes from the police lady's neck when she spins hard enough to face him. Eyeing the family with a dazed glower that looks more instinctive than anything else, "Mrs. Midoriya." Echiko Komine grits. "I'd like to have a word with you."
Izuku, Hitoshi, and Katsuki are left behind as Inko is guided into a private meeting room. A man who adds the word detective behind before his name babysits them in turn. "Call me Detective Tsukauchi. It's nice to meet you."
Hitoshi clams up, already on edge by being in the place that could potentially destroy his life as he knows it if they ever find out about the crashing plates and increasing yells. Empathetically, Izuku- who's also holding hands with the purple-haired boy- catches on to it like a daffodil flower on jeans, flunking his own name by accidentally biting on his tongue. It's like a domino effect, because the somewhat subtle tears from both his friends then sets Katsuki off.
There's at least three explosions before Tsukauchi calls backup with the infallible composure of one Aizawa Shouta. People are scrambling towards the commotion in records time; somewhere, the detective even vaguely hears someone hissing "Damn it, Fujimoto, what did I tell you about not putting out your cigarette light properly?!"
There's even a cop who's dragging an old man with him. A visitor? Suspect? Came for the lost and found? Either way, the Katsuki kid is burning holes with a glare as though Tsukauchi had offed at least three generations of his ancestors. "YOU FISH-EYED FUCKER!" Growls the boy prepping up a fourth explosion, "WHO THE FUCK GAVE YOU THE RIGHT TO MAKE THEM CRY!"
Blood dribbles from the green haired kid's mouth, in which he's frantic to stop with cupped hands and a wince. The bite must've been deep, Naomasa concludes. The familiar smoke of the fire extinguisher blinds any form of vision. "Izu!" a high pitched voice yells over the clouds of white. "Kacchan! Izu's gone! Someone snatched him away from me."
"WHAT?!" Comes the ear-piercing screech.
Frankly put, the station is in chaos. As the white fades, scorch marks stain the tiled floors and civilian and officer alike are scrambling towards every direction on the compass possible to find the child allegedly kidnapped under their noses.
"Oi, someone look after the kids and find the missing one. Fujimoto! Where's the man you were with?"
"Huh?" Fujimoto with the Koala Mutation Quirk answers unintelligently.
Right, Tsukauchi blinks. First find the little Midoriya, then the old man, or both. What a day.
Seemingly remembering that academy training exists for this very reason, everyone quickly follows through with protocol in a quick and orderly manner. The station is properly quarantined with cops at every entrance; Midoriya Inko and her guide are made aware of the situation and the mother pushes her worry away temporarily to prioritise calming Katsuki and Hitoshi down.
It's the least she can do as the police are already hot on her boy's heel.
They find Izuku in less than hour, sitting on one of the waiting area's chairs at a rather unobtrusive corner. The aforementioned missing old man is there too, on his knees with hands put together in prayer. His head bows down in worship. "Izuku-sama…" He mumbles reverently.
It's one of the most awkward things Naomasa has seen. But the thought changes when Izuku seems to know what the man's waiting for, or expects. He places a small, dainty hand on the man's head and whispers something into his ear.
The old man weeps. Ugly tears stream down his face as a wretched sob leaves his chapped lips. "T-Thank you…" the crowd that's slowing forming hears despite the soft vulnerability of the scene. "Thank you."
At the end of the day, they don't find out who the basket belongs to, but the police lady with Inko would eye the old man every so often before she, Naomasa himself, and the family of four walk towards the station exit. Katsuki asks out loud what the 'shitty geezer' wanted. "Closure," Izuku says with a weird tone, slightly too old and too wise. "He wanted to know if his family made it to Heaven properly."
"And how would you know that, Deku?"
"Cause I never get lost, Kacchan."
Like Hell that answers anything. Pity aside, Tsukauchi kind of sympathises with Eraserhead. The man deals with kids like this for a half of his living expenses; five days a week or more if the situation calls for it.