Author's Note:

A guide to 1920s slang used in this chapter:

Rap = criminal charges

Jalopy = an old car

Shell shock = an old term for PTSD generated by World War I before people understood PTSD

To high-hat = to snub

Flimflam = swindle

Swell = wonderful

Chapter Three:

The crowd of reporters howled and took pictures of Izuku as he walked out the mansion gate. Quickly, Toshinori ushered Izuku into a maroon Ruxton Roadster. They set off with their police escort.

Briefly glancing over his shoulder, Toshinori said, "I'm sorry for all the fuss, my boy—may I call you 'my boy'? I used to when you were a child."

Izuku hesitated. He didn't want to annoy his new guardian right off the bat, but he also didn't feel entirely comfortable with the familiarity coming from someone who was, to him, a total stranger. Although Izuku had tolerated a lot of familiarity from Hisashi, largely because he hadn't felt like he had a choice, so he supposed he ought to be fair.

The silence went on a little too long. Without his smile faltering, Toshinori said, "Izuku it is!"

"It's okay, you can call me whatever you'd like," Izuku said.

"A teenage boy deserves a more mature name. I completely understand," Toshinori said. "You can call me Toshinori or Toshi. You first called me Toshi when you were a baby and it stuck."

It felt strange to Izuku, to realize that this man knew him very well but he did not remember it. Toshinori exuded the effusive warmth of someone who wanted very badly to be liked. Izuku wondered if that would make Toshinori easier to handle than Hisashi. Although Hisashi had unfailingly been good to Izuku, Izuku had also always been aware that Hisashi could be a dangerous man if crossed. Toshinori seemed softer.

"Nice to meet you, Toshinori," Izuku said. "Or maybe I should say long time no see? As you already know, I have amnesia. I don't remember you at all, so please be patient with me."

"Perhaps you'll remember more with time," Toshinori said. "Did All for—Hisashi take you to see a doctor? What did he say about your amnesia?"

"Yes, but the doctor didn't mention my amnesia," Izuku admitted. Was that strange in retrospect? It was an old head wound, likely there wasn't much to do to treat it.

Toshinori made a low sound in the back of his throat. "I'll find my own doctor to look at you."

Clearly the hatred and distrust between Hisashi and Toshinori went both ways. Idly, Izuku wondered what Hisashi had done to make Toshinori hate him. He nearly asked, but he wanted to take a little bit of time to get to know Toshinori first so he could get a feel for how honest the story might be and pick up on any possible lying tells. Also, when Toshinori started driving them up a windy hill, Izuku didn't want to distract his driver.

At the top of the forest hill, the driveway was made of lovely black-and-white tiles. A star tile marked the entrance. The home looked like a castle, with stone walls and pointed roofs of bluish slate. A single rounded tower in the middle rose up above the rest. Izuku stared at the castle, trying to jog a memory. Nothing came to mind. Izuku did get a sense of peace and beauty from the castle. He didn't know if it was an old memory or coincidence.

As soon as Toshinori opened the door, a crowd shouted, "SURPRISE!" They held up a banner reading, Welcome home, Izuku!

From the smile on Toshinori's face, he'd expected this. He gestured at the crowd. "Izuku, these are your parents' old friends. I know you don't remember them, but all of us used to babysit you as a child. This is Torino." Toshinori pointed a wizened old man, who inclined his head. "That's Hikage." Toshinori pointed at the white-haired man trying to hide behind the middle of the banner. His eyes peeked out, then he ducked his head down again. "That's Banjo." A bald man grinned and dropped the corner of the banner to give Izuku a thumbs-up. Then Banjo hastily bent over to grab the banner before it flopped over. "That's En. He was only a teenager when you last saw him." The dark-haired young man waved two fingers. "Oh, Nana, you made it?" Gazing at the beautiful dark-haired woman, an even bigger smile broke out across Toshinori's face. Bending down, he whispered to Izuku, "Nana moved out just a few months ago after marrying her husband."

Nana tossed off a cheerful salute. "I took a week off work to help little Izuku get settled." Turning to Izuku, she said, "I'm a professor at Evelyn College for Women in New Jersey. Sanzou wanted to be here for the party too, but he couldn't get a plane flight until later this week."

"Sanzou?" Was Izuku supposed to know who that was?

Nana shook her head in self-reproach. "Sorry, of course you don't remember him. He's an old friend of your parents. The three of them were close since early childhood."

"Nice to meet all of you," Izuku said. "I'm glad to get to know you again." It was a little overwhelming to be greeted by such a big crowd, but also very sweet of them.

En said, "We prepared snacks in the dining room."

Banjo ran around the banner with his arms extended. "Can I hug you, kid?"

Izuku hesitated, then decided he only needed to get along with Toshinori so he didn't have to be obliging to everyone else. "I'm not big on hugging strangers, but maybe if we get to know each other."

Banjo stopped so fast his feet skidded on the carpet. "No problem! It's easy for me to forget that you don't know us. You can take your time getting to know us, eh?" He winked.

Izuku felt surprised and a little happy that his refusal had been taken so well. He'd gotten tired of being Hisashi's hugging toy.

Seeming to pick up on Izuku's nervousness, En said, "You can tell us anything you need. We're here to help you. We all owe a lot to your parents."

Izuku asked, "Oh, did my dad lend you all money too?"

From the groans and jaws dropping around the room, Izuku immediately knew he'd said the wrong thing. Torino slapped his forehead. "I knew that bastard would poison the kid's mind against us."

Firmly, Toshinori said, "It's probably a good thing since Hisashi would have kidnapped Izuku if he didn't think it had worked." He looked down with a gentle smile. "I hope you'll give me a chance to tell my side of the story, Izuku. Yes, your fathers did invest in my invention, but I'm not sure why Hisashi keeps insisting that was a scam even years after my business became a stunning success. He struggles to admit that he's wrong."

"I did notice that about him," Izuku said with a chuckle designed to disarm tension. He'd rather have that particular sensitive conversation with fewer people. "We can talk about the past later. First, let's eat the food before it grows cold."

The mansion had a fancy foyer with marble tiles, a chandelier overhead, and a piano in the corner. Balloons decorated the stairwell and had been tied to the wooden table in the middle. The table clearly looked as if it had been dragged over for the occasion with a tattered carpet thrown down to collect crumbs. Candy bars and Hostess cakes had been piled around the punch bowl.

Izuku wasn't that hungry, but he had room for one of his favorite Babe Ruth candy bars. They also were small enough to fit into his pocket so he could have a bit of food to hoard. He swiped a couple candy bars and a Hostess cake when no one was looking.

The group took turns telling him stories. Nana talked about her campaigning as a suffragette fighting for the right of women to vote. Torino told stories of his old kick-boxing days. Izuku knew they all must be curious about his life since he'd gone missing, but no one pressed him for answers and they took turns approaching him so he didn't get overwhelmed. He appreciated that. While Izuku and En got in a discussion about baseball statistics, Hikage limped over to the piano, sat down, and started to playing. Nana and Toshinori took to the floor, dancing.

Banjo pulled out a deck of cards and shuffled them. "Anyone up for a game of poker? We can use the candy bars as money."

Izuku straightened. He used to love playing poker back at the orphanage. Putting on an innocent face, he said, "You'll have to teach me how to play. I don't know anything at all."

Banjo laughed. "Nice try, kid! I did teach you how to play, back when you lived here." He started to slap Izuku on the back, then stopped at the last minute so his hand hovered awkwardly.

"Back slaps are okay," Izuku said. Gently, Banjo finished the pat.

Toshinori carried in two chairs, one under each arm. Behind him, Torino pulled along another chair. Grinning, Toshinori said, "Deal us in."

For the first time since he'd turned out to be a secret heir, Izuku was finally in his element. He assessed the competition in the first couple rounds, identifying the main threats as Torino for his poker face, Nana for crazy bluffing, and Toshinori for his math skills. Izuku had narrowed the game down to him and Toshinori before he realized he'd have to cheat to win. They even let him shuffle, making it so very easy to pocket a few cards.

As Izuku swept in the pot of candy bars, he said, "Good game."

Toshinori pointed. "There's a card slipping out of your sleeve."

"Damn—" Izuku's hand went to his elbow before he realized that had been a bluff. His shoulders sagged. In his enthusiasm, he'd switched to his usual method of playing at the orphanage, but now he wondered if anyone would be mad. He looked around the table.

Everyone was grinning. Nana said, "You were always gifted, but you've gotten even better. Don't look so nervous, we're also the ones who taught you how to cheat."

Slamming his hands down on the table, Banjo cried, "I demand a rematch! I'm better at the cheating form of poker."

They divided up the same candy bars again. In round two, Izuku quickly learned that En was the biggest threat in a game where cheating was allowed. No one else at the table had faster hands. En also had already prepared a deck of identical cards, which just wasn't fair, so naturally Izuku pickpocketed a few of En's spare cards.

Only En and Izuku were left. The entire pot rested on one hand. Both Izuku and En put down royal flushes.

The table burst out laughing. Slapping his knee, Torino said, "That means both of you brats lose. If this was a real casino, you'd get beaten up. Learn to be a little more subtle at cheating!"

En grumbled, "If I'd been more subtle, then he'd have played a royal flush and beat me."

Izuku started out laughing along, but the loud cheering got to his head. An ache formed behind his temples. It had been a very busy week. He felt exhausted deep in his bones.

Leaning over, Toshinori whispered in Japanese, "Would you prefer to go to bed now?" He had a bit of an accent but spoke fluently.

Izuku startled. He shouldn't be so surprised—Toshinori's name was clearly Japanese and despite the blond hair, the man looked part Japanese. He nodded.

Toshinori stood up. "I'm taking Izuku upstairs to bed. The rest of you can keep playing. I'll rejoin the game when I get back."

Everyone waved and said their goodbyes. Cupping his hands to his mouth, Banjo shouted, "Maybe I'll have a chance to win one when you're gone!"

Izuku smiled. This party had been fun, with a lot lower stakes than the last one.

Izuku's new bedroom had green wallpaper and sea-colored rug. Green curtains with a dark trim hung over the window. A slightly beat-up stuffed tiger sat in the armchair. The dresser and desk were made from the finest oak, but Izuku noticed that the poster bed looked old and scuffed. The bed stuck out like a pigeon among peacocks in the expensive room. Yet for some reason it gave Izuku a sense of safety.

Answering the unspoken question, Toshinori said, "I brought in your old bed from your parent's place. The mattress is new so it should be comfortable. If you prefer a brand-new bed, of course I can have one delivered right away. The toy tiger used to belong to you, too."

"Thank you." Izuku touched the checkered quilt on the bed, which looked handmade. "I like this." His eyes went to the glass case. "Whoa, so many baseball cards!" He ran over.

Toshinori said, "Those belong to you, too. You used to love to collect baseball cards."

Izuku stared at the drawings of different baseball players, but no memories came back to him. It was an impressive collection. Izuku would have liked to collect cards, but at the orphanage he'd always needed the money for food. He only had exactly one Babe Ruth baseball card that he'd won in a poker game. He'd hidden it under his bed in the orphanage and still had plans to go back for it someday.

Toshinori asked, "Would you like me to bring in a cabinet for you to keep food? That will keep the mice and insects away."

Izuku jumped. Had Toshinori noticed Izuku pocketing the candy bars? Given how easily he'd picked up on Izuku cheating at poker, the answer was probably yes. Izuku's cheeks flushed.

Gently, Toshinori said, "It's nothing to be ashamed of. I grew up poor, too. I used to like to have some food on hand. How about a loaf of bread or some crackers in case you want a snack?"

Looking down, Izuku nodded. He couldn't bring himself to speak. His shame had overwhelmed him.

Toshinori returned a few minutes later with a small cabinet tucked under his arm. Izuku hesitated, then put in the candy bars with the bread and crackers since Toshinori clearly already knew about them.

This seemed like as good a moment as any to ask for the other side of the story. Toshinori had made Izuku feel comfortable enough at the party that it didn't seem like too much of a risk to ask. Although he planned to get at the subject of his parents' deaths subtly. Izuku sat down on his bed. "How did you meet my parents? And why did they make you my guardian?"

Toshinori sat down in the armchair. "I met your parents…actually, our entire friend group met at…we've all known each other a long time."

Huh, Izuku had expected that to be the softball question. He wondered if Toshinori had been involved in something illegal, too.

Toshinori continued, "All of us were very close, like family. Rent prices being what they are in New York City, we all lived together. Your parents made me your godfather because I've always loved children. Any of their friends would have stepped up to look after you, but Yoichi and Kaiji knew that I'd always wanted a child." He smiled. "I babysat you a lot when you were small. I've always thought of you as my family."

Izuku asked, "Did all of you get along with Uncle Hisashi back then?"

"Hmm? I don't know what Hisashi told you, but Yoichi had already cut his brother out of his life before we met." Toshinori hesitated. "I'm not sure if I should be talking badly about Hisashi in front of you, but this could be important for you to know. Yoichi changed his name and went into hiding to avoid Hisashi. He never approved of his older brother's illegal business."

That was very, very different from what Hisashi had said. "But Uncle Hisashi had a lot of pictures of me growing up."

Toshinori turned bright crimson. "That ba—" He caught himself. "After Yoichi's death, someone broke into the old house we used to rent together and stole every single picture."

So Toshinori didn't have any proof of his story. That was suspicious. On the other hand, Izuku had noticed that Hisashi himself didn't feature in any of the pictures in the album. It was difficult to tell who was telling the truth or if the truth lay somewhere in the middle.

Izuku said, "Uncle Hisashi told me that my parents loaned you money for your business. He made it sound like you took advantage of them, but I want to hear your side of the story."

Toshinori said, "None of us had much money back in those days. Then Hisashi offered Kaiji a ten thousand dollar check to leave Yoichi. Kaiji pretended to agree, then immediately told Yoichi everything. They staged a big dramatic public breakup, then got back together again after cashing the check."

Izuku laughed. It amused him that his dads had been as devious as him. Hisashi definitely seemed like the type to pull that sort of horrible mother-in-law stunt.

Toshinori winced. "I'm speaking badly about your uncle again…I know I shouldn't if we're going to have to share custody…"

Izuku wiped a tear of mirth from his eye. "Don't worry, I already knew that Hisashi hated my other dad. He couldn't manage to be very subtle about it."

Toshinori continued, "I made my fortune by inventing an automated lasting machine for manufacturing shoes. I knew from the beginning that my invention could cut shoe prices in half, but I lacked the money to start my own company and every existing one offered me peanuts for my invention. Yoichi and Kaiji invested in my company. Together they owned about half the stock, which belongs to you now. I've been holding it in trust for you."

Izuku gulped. Given that Toshinori Yagi was the second richest man in New York, half his company must be worth a lot. "This is my money? Not yours or Uncle Hisashi's?"

Toshinori said, "As soon as you turn eighteen, it will belong to you."

That meant a great deal to Izuku. He'd always been keenly aware that he needed to please his new guardians, but this money offered true independence. "Whoa."

Toshinori said, "Your trust fund is administered by a lawyer who works for you, not me. I can arrange a meeting with him if you have any questions. I wanted everything to be above board so there would be no conflict of interest between me as your legal guardian and the owner of Yagi Shoe Company. I also inherited all of your parents' old possessions to hold for you as your legal guardian, and I've kept them in the basement. I haven't touched a single item."

Izuku couldn't help but trust Toshinori more after hearing that. Come to think of it, if Toshinori had wanted his stock back, he probably could have declared Izuku to be legally dead over the last couple years. It would have been easy, if Toshinori had been the money-hungry opportunist who Hisashi had tried to portray him as.

Leaning forward, Toshinori said, "I owe your parents a lot, Izuku. I promised them that I would raise you as my own, and I meant it. You're also the sole heir to all of my property. That won't change regardless of how the custody case gets settled."

Now Izuku felt a little dizzy. He forced himself back on track to ask the last and most important question. "How did my parents die? Uncle Hisashi told me they were attacked by debt collectors because of the new company."

"How dare he?" Toshinori's eyes blazed with fury. "There was no debt! My company was fully funded thanks to Hisashi's generous accidental donation. You were attacked by the mafia. I'm certain they were rivals of All for One—that's Hisashi's name among the mafia. They were trying to either get revenge on Hisashi or take his relatives hostage. Hisashi is deflecting responsibility onto me."

What a mess. Izuku wasn't sure who to believe. Both Toshinori and Hisashi had sounded completely sincere when trying to assign the rap to each other. Izuku had a feeling both of them believed their own stories, aka the hardest kind of liar to detect. Izuku could have forgiven either of them for being accidentally connected to his parents' deaths, but he would not forgive whoever was lying to him.

Of course, Izuku told Toshinori that he believed him. Just as Izuku had told Hisashi the same thing. He would have to find out the truth himself.

The next morning, Toshinori made waffles for breakfast. Over the meal, he asked, "Would you like to go to a baseball game?"

Izuku squirmed in his seat. "Yes, please!" He'd never been able to afford to see a game in-person before.

Toshinori chuckled. "Your love of baseball still hasn't changed, I see. What do you think about putting on some disguises? Media attention around your custody case has been extreme."

"Yes please," Izuku said with even more emphasis. He felt so very, very tired of being stared at.

Izuku and Toshinori both put on black haired wigs and sunglasses. None of the others were famous enough to need disguises. They all piled into a battered jalopy and a truck, less fancy but less noticeable cars.

Toshinori had his own VIP box with drinks and snacks. Looking down at massive stadium crowded with people, Izuku felt a stirring of excitement. This was a completely different experience from watching a game on the tiny black-and-white television at the orphanage, which didn't even have sound. Here, each roar from the crowd reverberated up the metal steps.

At the first view of the New York Yankees, Izuku cheered until his throat felt soar. Bouncing in his seat, he put up a hand to shield his eyes from the sun. "Where's Babe Ruth?"

Toshinori handed him a pair of binoculars and turned his head. "Right there."

Izuku gasped at suddenly seeing his favorite player up close. "Babe Ruth is the greatest baseball player of all time! He twice won twenty-three games in a season and was a member of three World Series championship teams with the Red Sox. He started as a pitcher but became a batter because he wanted to play every day. That's real baseball spirit, isn't it? He broke the MLB single-season home run record with twenty-nine. I loved him even before he joined the Yankees, because he's left-handed like me." Izuku stopped talking, aware both that he'd been going on too long as he often did, and that he'd revealed something he usually kept secret.

Toshinori said, "I'm left-handed, too."

"Really?"

With a wink, Toshinori picked up a corndog with his left hand and took a bite. "Really."

Izuku felt a thrill of kindred spirit. "Did your teachers used to force you to write with your right hand, too? I got hit so many times that I've got a scar. See?" He held out his left hand.

Toshinori frowned. "Yes, they did. I swore I'd never let that happen to you. I'm sorry." The lines on his face deepened upon seeing the scar.

Izuku hadn't meant to bring down the mood. "It's okay. I can use both hands to write now, but I would like to go to a school where the teachers didn't get upset I used my left one."

"I'll find you a good school," Toshinori promised.

Izuku's head drooped. "Um…I already visited schools with Unc…with Hisashi. There's one school I really like…um, they promised to teach me Japanese History…" His gaze fixed on his feet. "I suppose you wouldn't want me to attend that one."

"Why not?" Toshinori asked. "Just because Hisashi suggested it? That's not the school's fault. I might not see eye to eye with Hisashi on nearly anything else, but I'm sure he would only suggest top quality schools to you. Give me the school's name, and I'll investigate it. As long as I can't find any problems, you can select any school you'd like."

Izuku's head shot up. "Oh! Thank you."

Then the game got started, and Izuku was completely engrossed. He leapt to his feet and cheered at every miniscule motion from Babe Ruth.

In Izuku's distraction, he almost didn't notice when Hikage, sitting next to him, started shaking. Hikage's hands went up to cover his ears. His jaw clenched.

"Are you okay?" Izuku asked, raising his voice to be heard over the crowd.

Hikage didn't answer. But he shook his head slightly.

"What can I do to help?" Izuku asked.

But Hikage didn't seem to hear.

Banjo said, "Oh, no, he's having another flashback. Everyone, move back to give him space." The others pulled away, letting Hikage have as much space as possible in the box. Hikage rocked back and forth, his eyelids fluttering.

"Should we call a doctor?" Izuku whispered.

At the word "doctor," Hikage twitched and moaned. He shook his head frantically.

Toshinori whispered back, "When Hikage gets like this, he needs to be left alone until he comes out of it."

Banjo knelt down in front of Hikage, not too close. Soothingly, he said, "It's all over. You already survived. You're safe here."

Toshinori whispered, "Hikage is a veteran from the Great War. He has shell shock. Loud noises trigger it sometimes."

This probably explained Hikage's limp. Izuku had seen shell shock symptoms before, in one of his teachers at public school.

Gazing up at Hikage's face, Banjo asked, "Do you know who I am? Do you know who you are?"

Slowly, Hikage nodded. He whispered, "I'd like to go home."

"Then home we'll go, doll face." Banjo slung one of Hikage's arms around his shoulder and helped him up. Hikage's left leg dragged behind him.

Izuku followed after them to the stairs. "Can I do anything to help?"

Banjo managed a strained smile. "Don't worry, kid. Hikage just needs a bit of time in a quiet place, and honestly more people around would be bad for him. I'll take care of him. You just enjoy the game. And kid? Thanks for noticing that something was wrong."

The thanks made Izuku feel a little less useless, but he still wished he could do more as Banjo left with Hikage. Izuku stared after them even after they'd disappeared.

The air parted with a swishing sound, and something flew at Izuku's chest. He caught it by reflex. Below, the crowd roared and Babe Ruth took off running.

"I caught a ball hit by Babe Ruth," Izuku whispered in awe. His hand stung. The pain told him that this must be real.

People were staring at him. Also, his wig had fallen a little eskew. Flushing, Izuku ducked back into the box. He waved the ball. "Hey, everyone, I caught a ball from Babe Ruth!"

"That's incredible!" Nana cried.

Torino slapped his knee. "You've got amazing reflexes."

Everyone crowded around Izuku and made a fuss over him. His cheeks hurt from smiling. This was way better than a baseball card.

By the time the game ended, Izuku's throat was sore from cheering. The New York Yankees had won, which just made the perfect day even better. Skipping back to the truck, Izuku chattered to Toshinori about every last play.

As he started the truck, Toshinori said, "I'm glad you had such a good time."

"Best day ever!" Izuku cried. He clutched his beloved baseball tight to his chest.

"A doctor is waiting back home to look at you. I thought you would prefer a private visit rather than having to put on a disguise again."

Izuku raised an eyebrow. "Was the baseball game a bribe for the doctor's visit?"

Toshinori flushed and his hand jittered on the steering wheel. "Of course, if you don't want to, you don't have to…"

Izuku laughed. "I don't mind. It was a good bribe." It certainly beat the orphanage where there had been neither baseball games nor doctors.

Back at the mansion, Izuku checked up on Hikage, who was sleeping. Izuku left without disturbing him.

Another doctor once again poked and prodded Izuku, and this time examined his head scar too, but did not have much to say about the amnesia except that "head injuries could be tricky and unpredictable." According to the doctor, Izuku's memories would return slowly and gradually if at all. Being in familiar places or meeting familiar people might help. He also added in that Izuku was "very lucky to be alive" at which point Toshinori paid the man and shooed him out.

"I haven't even had time to read the newspaper today," Toshinori said, picking it up.

Izuku's eyes widened to see himself on the front page, standing on the yacht with Hisashi's arm around him. Apparently more people than Jin had known that they could sell pictures. Izuku felt much more annoyed at a wealthy socialite taking photos of him, since they shouldn't need the money.

Toshinori's eyes widened as he kept reading. "Did Hisashi truly buy out a toy store and a clothing store for you?"

Izuku swallowed and tried to make a joke out of it. "Well, we left the clothing in sizes besides mine."

"He brought you a horse? And a yacht?" Toshinori's hands shook on the newspaper.

"I don't think I get to keep the swanky boat," Izuku said. "It was more him trying to high-hat someone else."

Toshinori shook his head. "…And I just took you to a mere baseball game."

Izuku said, "I had fun at the baseball game! A baseball from Babe Ruth is way better than any other gift." He seriously meant it, but Toshinori didn't even seem to hear judging from his wild eyes.

Toshinori leapt to his feet. "I'm nearly as rich as that flimflamming asshole!" In his agitation, he didn't censor his swearing. "I can buy you gifts, too. I'll do even better than him! Come on, Izuku."

Did they have to? Izuku had been tired from the baseball game and looking forward to reading or maybe taking a nap. "You really don't need to."

"No need to be modest! You deserve all the gifts!" Toshinori dragged Izuku out of the house without even bothering with disguises.

Izuku knew the drill from Hisashi: walk into a clothing store, flash the money, get fawned on, buy everything in sight. Unlike Hisashi, Toshinori didn't look like he was having fun. Scowling, he ordered the staff to pack up every last bit of clothing in Izuku's size.

Shifting nervously, Izuku wondered if anyone was taking a picture of him. He felt uncomfortable and exposed.

Next, Toshinori marched them to a toy store in the mall. "What would you like?"

Izuku looked around, overwhelmed. He didn't need any of this. He had every last item already from his first shopping spree, but he hadn't really wanted it the first time. When he thought about the other children back at his orphanage who used to carve stick toys from wood, it felt obscene for him to have duplicates of every last expensive toy.

"Do you not like this store?" Toshinori asked anxiously. "Should I take you to another one?"

"No!" Izuku didn't want this shopping trip to last any longer than necessary. "I'll take that, and that." He pointed at random.

During the first shopping trip, with Hisashi, Izuku had done a much better job of pretending to be enthusiastic and grateful. He ought to do the same thing again. It wasn't as if Toshinori was doing anything different from Hisashi. But that was the whole problem. Two such trips in close succession had tired Izuku out. Everything had been so different for him over the last week. It was disorienting. He just wanted a break. He even sort of wished he was back at the orphanage even though he didn't really. But at least he'd known how to survive at the orphanage. Now he felt stuck trying to play a new game where he didn't even know the rules.

Looking at Izuku's face, Toshinori wrung his hands. "You don't like the toys."

"It's swell, really," Izuku said. He hesitated, then added, "But I don't need all of this stuff."

"You seemed so happy with Hisashi's gifts in the pictures in the paper…" Toshinori mumbled. "Are these not expensive enough? I don't have as fancy taste as Hisashi. I know! How about I buy you a baseball team? I bet you would like that."

"NO!" Izuku shouted. The horse had been bad enough. Izuku couldn't have the livelihood of an entire team of baseball players depending on him. He didn't know the first thing about owning a baseball team! He'd run it into the ground! Then not only the players but all the fans would be disappointed in him. "I can't…it's too much…just STOP!"

Toshinori stared, stunned.

Izuku realized he'd messed up. He shouldn't have dared talk to an adult like that, not one who had so much power over him. And he ought to apologize, to say something to smooth matters over, but no words were coming out of his mouth. He just wanted to escape.

Tears streaming down his face, Izuku ran past Toshinori, out of the building, and down the street. His new shoes slapped against the pavement, taking him on a very familiar route—back to his old orphanage.

OMAKE TIME!

Omake: Kotaro is Sir Not Appearing in This Story

Torino: Why am I older than Nana? We should be the same age based on canon.

Author: Let me put it this way: if Nana is the age of a grandmother then Kotaro Shimura already exists and he'd be in the story.

Torino: I'll take this one for the team.

Kotaro: Hey!

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Omake: Meanwhile Behind the Fourth Wall

Yoichi: You're writing a fic where all the past One for All users are alive and from the same generation? I can't wait! I even get to be Izuku's biological father. I'm sure I must have a big role in this fic!

Author: (Glances at the fridge) You certainly had a notable impact on events, let's put it that way.

Author's Note: Toshinori's invention is based off a real life story. Jan Ernst Matzeliger invented a lasting machine for sewing shoes, known as the greatest step forward for the shoe industry. But he had trouble finding investors and died in poverty while ultimately other people benefitted from his invention. Toshinori was fortunate to find a friend to invest in him.

Sanzou is the Third One for All holder, and he will appear later, I promise!