The silence was viscous – tar that threatened to bind them in place. It made Izuku want to fidget out of his skin, away from the man sitting across him.

Dad.

Father.

Papa.

Daddy.

Even in his mind, the words felt sour. The words had never belonged in Izuku's lips, never really, and for all that the man in front of him might have been his flesh and blood, he was no father.

Izuku stared at the floor, at his shoes, at the scars on the leg of the table, anywhere else. Distantly, he wished that Yagi-sensei hadn't excused himself after the first sign of awkwardness, assuring him that they needed only to step out to call him once they were finished. He wondered how strange he and his dad must have looked. He wondered what his dad had even told his teacher. Did Yagi-sensei know about his mother? Did his father tell him that this was the first time they've ever met?

"You've grown, Izuku."

First time they've ever met, and the man acted like an uncle he simply hadn't seen in months. Izuku couldn't help but let out a bitter chuckle. He dared to look up and meet the face of his 'father.' He appeared younger than Izuku had imagined. The pictures he'd seen were taken before Izuku was even born, but it was almost as if the man hadn't aged more than five years since. Izuku pouted, something like anger bubbling in his belly – his mother had never looked as young and carefree.

He resembled his father, that was certain from the head of wild, curly hair they shared, though his dad's hair was black while his own was a deep dark green. The man even had a spattering of freckles across his cheeks. Though Izuku and his mom sported chubby childish faces, his dad was all angles and lines; severe features that Izuku admitted were handsome.

He wondered if he'd look like that when he got older. He wondered if his mom had found the sharp features attractive once upon a time. He wondered if his dad saw himself in Izuku. He wondered if his dad saw mom in Izuku.

"Dad," Izuku all but spat out, not trusting himself to address the man by any other title, "what did you tell my teacher?" Izuku wondered if he sounded as cold as he felt.

His dad seemed to chew his cheek for a moment.

"The truth."

He said it like it was the simplest thing, and before Izuku could help himself, he was sitting up, tension threatening to snap him apart. He wanted to shout, scream, throw something – anything. He'd spent many sleepless nights considering what might happen if he met with his father. In the simplest of his fantasies, the man would be cold and unkind, the very image of indifference. It was the simplest because it would have made the most sensible story. The most painful scenarios were the ones where his father would be apologetic, and look at him with eyes that spoke of regret and a desire to mend things. The man's actions had isolated Izuku from other children for a good chunk of his childhood, and caused his mother to cry herself to sleep weeks at a time. This man left them, ruined their lives before Izuku's had even begun. It had always been so easy to vilify the man, and Izuku would be terrified to have to face the reality that he was anything more than a villain.

It would have been so easy to stand up and walk out. He didn't need this man – this stranger. He and his mom had survived long enough on their own. Izuku was alright even without his mom. He was okay. He was great. He didn't need any -

The man – Hisashi – looked away, his soft voice cutting through Izuku's thoughts like a guillotine.

"I've been looking for you, you know."

What?

Hisashi slowly turned his head, meeting Izuku's confused stare with an almost earnest expression.

"I…yes, I did run away at first," he said, lowering his head, "your mom – Inko – and I were so young…and I was already engaged. But a week after she told me she was having you and I walked away, I knew I had to make things right…I was wrong to run away, and I tried to reach out to Inko, but she wouldn't let me." The more he spoke, the more his confidence seemed to grow. "She stopped returning my calls, she never wrote back, I – I didn't even know if it was a boy or a girl."

"You – you're lying," Izuku stammered, resisting the burning sensation behind his eyes. Why cry? It was obvious the man was making stories up? This didn't make any sense. It was a very strange thing to live your life so certain of something, only to suddenly be told that you were wrong, and so sincerely. It was like going to school one day and hearing everybody talk about how beautiful the purple noon sky was when all along you were sure it was blue.

You wouldn't believe them…not immediately anyway, but the seeds would be planted, and sometimes, that was all it took.

They spoke for a while longer after that. Well, Hisashi – dad? – explained himself further, and Izuku did little but nod vacantly, too overwhelmed by this 'alternate history' suddenly being thrust into his previously clear narrative. If his dad were to be believed, and Izuku wasn't completely sure he trusted the man anyway, then his mom had been the one who insisted that his dad stay away from them, despite him reaching out to offer presence and support many times throughout the years.

Would his mom have done that – deny him of any semblance of a father figure? Why would she do that? Did she really hate Hisashi so much for hiding he was engaged that she'd turn away any help he offered? His mind was abuzz with questions, hypothetical situations, anything and everything to try to reconcile the Hisashi he'd met in the office with the Hisashi that had always existed in his and his mother's history. His dad at least seemed to understand that Izuku needed time to process. He settled on giving Izuku his mobile number, with the instruction of texting him before the weekend if Izuku was okay with meeting him and his wife on Saturday evening to discuss further details – details like letting Izuku stay with them, treating him as part of their family.

Izuku was in a daze as he watched Hisashi and Yagi-sensei shake hands, before taking his own leave to go back to his classroom to attend his afternoon classes, not feeling the weight of red eyes watching him and his father exit faculty lounge from the trees by the corridor windows.

Izuku probably should have felt bad about missing most of his classes, having arrived halfway through the last period of the day. But, as he presented the slip Yagi-sensei had given him to his teacher, he couldn't help but be thankful that he could at least avoid Iida and Uraraka's barrage of question. He had lied to them enough today, and Izuku wanted nothing more than to run back to the house in the woods and curl in bed to think everything in his life over.

Bakugou's seat in front of him was empty, and a quick glance back showed that Todoroki's was also vacant. Izuku let his mind wander away from his own issues, considering instead where those two had ended up. It wasn't long before Izuku was fully zoned-out, his mind filled with distant vestiges of faceless five-year-old children and fields paved with blazing leaves. The end-of-school bell rang, shocking Izuku back to reality, and he all but bolted out of his seat, pointedly ignoring the shouts of his name from Uraraka and Iida. Explaining today's behavior would be the problem of future-Izuku, he decided.

Izuku was close to the school gate when he almost tripped over his own feet at the sound of his name being called by a deep voice from behind. To be honest, Izuku had forgotten about walking home with Todoroki today. Izuku slowed his gait to let the boy catch up with him; if nothing else, Todoroki would make a good excuse for his abrupt exit if Uraraka or Iida asked.

"Where've you been?" Izuku asked, desperate to distract himself. Todoroki let out a tired sigh as they started walking side by side.

"I spent the rest of the day running around campus looking for the damn cat. Complete waste of time."

Izuku hummed sympathetically, though he wasn't too interested in asking anymore about today's cat and mouse chase. Rather, he was debating if he should talk to Todoroki about his father's visit – Todoroki was one of the only people who knew about Izuku's real circumstances, and Izuku sure could use someone to talk things over with…but the ease between the two of them was still so fresh, and Izuku wasn't sure if he wanted to bring such a volatile topic up.

"I heard your name on the announcement system during the break," Todoroki said, the decision apparently taken away from Izuku's hands.

Izuku let out a sigh, and nodded, vaguely wondering if Todoroki would pry. Secretly, he almost wished Todoroki would pry so that Izuku would be able to rationalize talking about his dad. The boy, however, was less meddlesome than Izuku ever was, and said nothing. A more reasonable Izuku might have been more thankful that Todoroki wasn't pushing, but all he felt was disappointment. Izuku's mind was a maelstrom of contradicting frustrations - he wanted to talk about it, but also, not talk about. Somehow, his mind comprehended that as a desire to try to maneuver into the topic like a drunk driver.

"So…Todoroki, you have a dad, right?"

Todoroki's footsteps came to an abrupt stop, and Izuku didn't have to turn to him to know he had a brow raised in question.

"I…uh…yes?"

Izuku wanted nothing more than to get swallowed by the ground. Do you have a dad? What kind of question was that? Todoroki wasn't some fruit that just fell off a tree!

Trying to recover from his own stupidity, Izuku pushed on. "Could…could you tell me about him?"

Izuku wondered what he was trying to accomplish. It wasn't as if his other friends didn't have dads – Iida and Uraraka had never avoided gushing about their great, loving dads, after all.

"No."

Todoroki's voice was cold and final. Izuku ventured to look at his classmate to find that he was stiff, glaring at the trees to his side. It was then that Izuku realized that asking Todoroki about his dad might have been a terrible idea, and wow, what he would give to have a time-travelling quirk. A few tense moments passed as they both stood frozen on the pavement that melted forward into dirt paths. Todoroki shot him one last final look that had Izuku wincing and stepping back.

Todoroki's eyes softened at that, and he cleared his throat.

"My dad and I…don't see eye to eye. I'd rather leave it at that," he said, as he coolly strode past Izuku, and into the forest.

You and me both, Izuku thought, as he scrambled to follow the boy before he got lost in the woods.

The rest of the walk was filled with stunted attempts at conversation – mostly Izuku trying to get past his previous blunder by offering what little of the last period he paid attention too. It wasn't too long before the house was in sight, and Todoroki took a sharp intake of breath that had Izuku shooting him an alarmed glance.

"I'm going to kill him," Todoroki whispered.

Izuku followed the direction of Todoroki's murderous glare to the roof, over the house and to the roof, where a figure lay in the golden sunlight, school uniform wrinkled, and a white cloth draped over his face.

"Is – is that Bakugou?"

"I'm going to kill him for making me miss lunch."

Todoroki stomped into the house, Izuku running to keep pace. Aizawa was sprawled on the living room in a handsome grey yukata, charcoal pencils and papers scattered around. Aizawa leveled them with a stern gaze.

"Would anyone care to explain why there's an angry boy sunbathing on my roof?"

"Bakugou's an asshole," Todoroki answered, loud enough to make sure he was heard all the way to the roof.

Aizawa pinched his nose as he sat upright. "What happened?"

"I'm going to go make some tea," Todoroki declared as he sauntered off to the kitchen, ignoring Aizawa and leaving Izuku to explain.

Izuku gently dropped his bag down, and sat across Aizawa. He allowed himself some time to look at the rough sketches littered around the table – was that some sort of rabbit in a waistcoat?

"Cats came up to him during class, and our classmates found it funny…" Izuku wondered if that would be enough. Did he have to mention Bakugou's outbursts or his acrobatics? There was a rough sound as Aizawa dropped back onto the floor, shutting his eyes forcefully.

"I should have known something like this would go wrong."

Izuku peeked at Aizawa, who suddenly appeared far too young to have to deal with today's episode of teenage school drama. "Has this happened before?"

Aizawa snorted. "The animals, or the running away?"

"The running back home."

Aizawa turned to his side, resting his cheek on his knuckles. "Oh yes, you have no idea. Did you know, just before last summer, that brat suddenly decided to flee into the mountains?"

The mountains? Izuku's mind was filled with scenes from survival and wildlife shows, now featuring the blonde boy clad in an adventurer's hat, snake wrapped on his shoulders, wearing a sharp toothy smirk. Against his will, Izuku felt himself coloring – the image had its appeal.

"At his old schools, did this also happen?"

Todoroki came in with a tray of cups and a pot of tea, his deep voice answering Izuku's question.

"He used to be homeschooled. We all did."

Izuku accepted the warm cup Todoroki offered him. Homeschool was such a foreign concept to Izuku. He'd always assumed Todoroki had come from some rich private school before transferring to Musutafu, but the reality was apparently even more interesting.

"Still, Bakugou was never any good at making friends," Aizawa said, "that apparently hasn't changed."

"Big surprise," Todoroki scoffed.

Aizawa hummed, unimpressed. "You're hardly one to talk, are you?"

Todoroki's answer to that was a pronounced eyeroll and a long sip from his cup. He let out a big sigh, one Aizawa shared.

"I know it's not in your nature, Todoroki, but could you antagonize Bakugou less?"

Todoroki gave an offended look at Aizawa. "I'm not the one always picking fights."

"That's true," Aizawa said with a resigned expression, "he…he has a lot of growing up to do."

That, unsatisfactory as Izuku found it, was apparently the end of all conversation on Bakugou. Did they always just leave him whenever he was in his moods? Or maybe they'd tried before but got tired of it? Izuku hummed to himself softly, deciding that if his cousins weren't going to try to reach out to Bakugou next time he went into a slump, Izuku would.

Tea was finished in silence except for when Aizawa started asking why he came home to a frozen kitchen, barely hiding the amusement on his face. Todoroki blushed and apologized, and there was a collective understanding that they'd all need to learn how to cook sooner rather than later. Dinner (Aizawa had taken the liberty of getting food delivered) was uneventful, aside from the distinct absence of an angry blonde at the table.

Bakugou aside, things were mundane – you really wouldn't even know the house was filled by people who allegedly lived under a curse were it not for the undeniably strange, almost distant, family dynamic they all had. Izuku was mindful of how he moved, and nobody was turning into animals against their will. This was a life he could get used to, he found himself admitting as he mopped the kitchen floor which was wet with just-recently-melted ice. He didn't allow himself to dwell on those thoughts for too long, though, since he knew that the arrangement he had with Aizawa was temporary – a week or two at best – and that wasn't even considering the uncertainty brought about by the sudden appearance of his father.

It was around seven in the evening when Izuku finally found himself freshly showered and sitting at the desk in his room, pen and paper in front of him. After having shot a quick message at Uraraka and Iida that he just suddenly wasn't feeling well that afternoon, and that Todoroki had promised to walk him home (which resulted in some very inappropriate responses from Uraraka), he wanted to get a head start on the assignment Yagi-sensei had given them.

Izuku bit at the tip of his pen as he stared at the sheet of paper that was blank outside of a header that read 'the most defining moment in my young life.'

The staring went on for quite a while, Izuku's mind drawing complete blanks on anything he might have wanted to write about. After a good two hours of scribbling potential topics and promptly scratching them out with exasperated sighs, his mind treacherously drifted into decidedly more pressing issues, issues that he wasn't sure if he wanted to avoid or ram through.

His phone stared at him menacingly from the corner of the table, taunting him with the contact details of the father he never thought he'd meet. The potential meeting with his dad and the other family weighed heavily on Izuku's mind. Was that something he wanted to try? What would it be like to live in a house with a big family? Was the other family even big? How would they treat him? Would Izuku call them brother and sister? Would he have to call his dad's wife – Izuku swallowed – mom?

Izuku's mind ran circles around itself, and as he propped up his elbows and rested his forehead on raised hands, he slowly drifted into fitful and dreamless sleep.

The sensation of falling was what jolted Izuku awake, along with a sharp ache on his face and the thud of another body tumbling onto the floor. A split-second later had Izuku's mind whirring back to life, and it didn't take too much guessing to determine who the other body belonged to, based on the stream of low curses being muttered somewhere beside Izuku, who found himself and his chair toppled onto the cold wooden floor.

"B-Bakugou?" Izuku said, eyes widening as he took in the disgruntled appearance of the blonde boy braced on the floor some distance beside him.

"What gives, green bean? Why you sleepin' on your desk?"

Izuku let out an exasperated huff. "Why were you swinging through my window?"

"It was the shortest path back in!" Bakugou retorted, as if Izuku was stupid for not figuring that out.

"Why couldn't you just go use the front door!?"

"Did you want me to slip off the roof and break my neck, huh?" Bakugou shot him an accusing glare, one which Izuku, after having been on the receiving end of a flying foot, was all too happy to return. So much for not antagonizing him.

"Don't cats always land on their feet?"

Bakugou clearly hadn't been expecting that kind of response, and his glare broke as he looked away.

"Your nose is bleeding, idiot," Bakugou muttered. Izuku was confused for a few moments before he became all too aware of the liquid sliding down his face. He scrambled up gracelessly, nearly tripping on the fallen chair, searching madly through the table drawers for a roll of tissue with one hand, the other busy pinching his nose.

"That's because you kicked me!" Izuku tried to say, though he wondered how intelligible it sounded through his muffled breathing. Bakugou groaned, nudging Izuku's crouched form with a foot as he reached out with an unfolded white handkerchief in hand.

Izuku stared at the piece of cloth, confused.

Bakugou tensed, as he started shouting. "What's with the look! It's clean, you dumbass!"

Realization came over Izuku, as he gingerly took the fabric from Bakugou's clenched fist, using it to wipe the blood staining down his lips. "Thanks," Izuku said softly, looking up to find the blonde staring at him as he wiped. Did it look that bad? Izuku wondered, taking moments between dabs to inspect the cloth.

"What were you even still up about?"

Bakugou sat on the floor with crossed legs, back to the bed, picking at loose threads on his school pants. His words weren't the roars that Izuku had come to expect from the boy, and he suddenly registered to Izuku as much less threatening – almost childlike in his demeanor. Izuku sighed, righting the fallen chair, and letting himself plop down on the floor opposite Bakugou, knees drawn up and with his back leaning on the wall.

"I was thinking."

"Did it have something to do with that guy at the faculty room?"

Izuku brows flew, and Bakugou must not have been planning to say that as his entire body froze just as it left his mouth.

"Wh-what guy?" Izuku said, trying to feign confusion.

After a moment of silence, Bakugou's expression hardened, and he shrugged in a gesture of indifference. "Candy cane told me you were called to meet with someone over the break."

Candy cane…Todoroki? The cogs in Izuku's minds were hard at work connecting dots, and it didn't take a lot to figure out Bakugou wasn't telling the truth – Todoroki didn't know about his lunchtime meeting, and given how the two of them were, even if he did, there was no way he'd just go and share that information with Bakugou.

If the scowl Bakugou had was any indication, then even he knew that excuse was flimsy, and Izuku was going to call him out.

"Have you been watching – "

"So, is it what you've been thinking about?" Bakugou interrupted, clearly uninterested in having to divulge how he found out.

Izuku inhaled deeply, letting the hand that had been nursing his nose drop, relieved that the bleeding seemed to have stopped. The strangeness of the situation wasn't lost on him: sat on the floor with a someone who'd spent the better part of their interactions cussing at him, and here he was, considering just coming clean to Bakugou about meeting his father. He had been itching to talk things over with somebody, having failed disastrously with Todoroki earlier. Also, he could later blame the fact that he got kicked in the face. Satisfied with his exercise in rationalization, Izuku nodded.

"It was my dad," Izuku said, the word 'dad' still feeling wrong on his tongue.

Bakugou shot him a doubtful look. "I didn't know you had a dad."

Same, Izuku mused.

"What the fuck did he want, then?"

"To meet me?" Izuku answered weakly, unsure of his dad's true purpose himself. "To talk to me? To take me home? I don't know…" he drifted off, letting his head rest on the arms that had circled his knee.

"Take you home?"

Izuku hummed. "He said I might be able to live with him and his family."

"Might? He wasn't even sure? Your dad sounds like an jackass."

Izuku couldn't help but giggle. "Probably is," he said, darting up to shoot a weak smile at Bakugou, "but if it works out, I'll stop being such a bother to you guys, right?"

Izuku couldn't place the expressions that crossed Bakugou's face after he said that. Next thing he knew, Bakugou had shot up forcefully, glaring as his mouth opened to form various words but never committing to any. Izuku got on his feet too, scared that he'd have to figure out how to mollify Bakugou very soon, but the storm never came – Bakugou's temper withered as quickly as it threated to come once the boy's eyes landed on the side of Izuku's table, where he kept his necklace next to the wrapped picture of his mother.

"My mom told me those used to be prayer beads," Izuku said, hoping the sigh of relief at not having to deal with an angry Bakugou wasn't too loud. A few beats passed, and Bakugou was still stuck staring at the beads, his hand reaching to touch the bracelet on his wrist.

"I know."

Bakugou exhaled, and Izuku watched as he walked to the door, confused at Bakugou's answer. The blonde didn't seem bothered, at least until he just reached the door, where he stilled, his back turned to Izuku pulled taut.

"I – " Bakugou started, "If you need someone to talk to about your dad…or whatever the fuck…you can…with me…yeah, you get it, right nerd?"

Absently, Izuku hummed in agreement, hid mind plunged into further disarray with no end in sight. He gathered himself as best as he could so that he could say something – anything – in response.

"Th-thanks," he paused, "Good night, Bakugou."

"Katsuki."

"Wh-what – "

"Call me Katsuki. Please."

Izuku didn't have a chance to see the expression on the blonde's face as he pulled the door open and fled, but he was sure his own face was completely flushed.

The Letter (The Box Tops) : watch?v=HIWY8UyW9bw