Hizashi clicks the button for the next queued-up call to come through to his headphones, and he pretty much starts vibrating when he hears a rather familiar little exhale, delicate and wavering and absolutely adorable.

"Hey, hey, hey, it's my lil' Dove! How you doin' today lil' one?"

"Hi, Mic, sir," the sweet voice is meek and soft as always, and it reminds Hizashi of downy feathers. It's just one of the reasons he calls the kid his little Dove!

"Aw, shucks lil' one, you know you don't have to call me Sir. Now then!" he chirps, beaming bright and true because this kid is honestly his favourite of all of his listeners, even if he doesn't ring in regularly or half as often as Hizashi would like. That last part's probably a good thing, considering that the kid has a habit of ringing just slightly later at night than someone of his apparent age probably should be.

"I thought you might like to know that I was able to ask a certain someone about their goggles and you were right!"

"Oh! Oh, really? Wait, uhm, yellow or green?"

"Yellow, Dove, yellow!" Another little gasp, followed by a long, muffled squeak before the kid must recover from his excitement at least a little bit,

"Ahh, thank you so much Si- Mic-san! That's amazing." The genuine awe in his voice, rich gratitude and energy, is more than reward enough,

"Always, lil' Dove! You know I love your rambles; they're one of the sweetest sounds around!"

"Oh, uhm, mm-" He can almost hear the kid wriggling in place, no doubt blushing, and Hizashi wants to squeal at how cute it must be.

But then the kid seems to still, something deadened coming across the line, before he speaks again, the syllables messy and rushed but still just about coherent enough for Hizashi,

"G-guess what, Sir? Mic-san, sorry! Uhm, anyway, we got our maths tests back today and my teacher gave me full marks even though she doesn't like me!" It isn't the first concerning statement he's ever heard from the kid, but he can't do anything about them, annoyingly enough. They can only trace calls to area codes because of some stupid but generally logical laws like workers abusing their position to stalk people, but Hizashi really just wants to go to his Dove's house and scoop him in up in a big hug, to keep him away from the world that's clearly so mean to a bright, kind little boy for no reason that he can figure out.

"Woah, good job lil' one! You must have studied super hard!"

"Yep! I studied with Kaachan and he made sure the teacher knew it so she knew that I did well!" That's only more concerning, honestly, but Hizashi keeps his grin, cheeks aching with the toothy edge to it,

"Sounds like you've got a good friend there, listener! Is he the one you were with when you rang in a lil' while ago?"

"He is! Kaachan's super cool, and so is his Quirk, and his Mama makes the best katsudon ev-" There's the sound of a door slamming in the background, his kid falling instantly silent, and it has Hizashi sitting up ram-rod straight, alarmed.

"Hey, lil' Dove-" He's interrupted by another voice, fainter but far louder than his own, shrill with a slurred slip to it,

"Izuku!"

"Oh! Oh no," the kid murmurs, and there's a level of fright in his voice that definitely worries the hero, but he'll let it play out. Dove is a nervous kid after all, he might just really hate getting told off-

"What the fuck are you doing, brat? You better not be trying to ring the Bakugous, I thought I

taught you a lesson after last time-" Oh, shit, that's even more concerning. The woman definitely sounds drunk and there's so much venom in her tone, the sort of vitriol that shouldn't be aimed at anyone, let alone her own child. Hizashi kind of really wants to scream.

"Mama! N-no, I just- I just wanted to play a game!" There's desperation in his Dove's voice, a blatant desire to keep the true phone call a secret, and there's the sort of microphone noises that tend to come with a phone being dropped or grabbed.

"At this time of night? You're too stupid to trick me, now give me the phone back, useless brat." And there's a cry of pain then, a tiny, muffled thing, before the phone cuts off, and Hizashi realises that he isn't even breathing. His Dove-

But his producer is waving at him frantically and he shoves himself headfirst into being Present Mic, pushing aside every trace of Hizashi just for the next ten seconds,

"Okay, listeners, we're gonna get that sorted now, make sure lil' Dove's okay, but in the mean time, have some banging tunes, yeah!" He's already getting up, shoving his headphones off, and rushing into the adjacent room where all the switchboards and softwares are housed, his colleagues rushing around to take over from him or for doing exactly what they should be: helping him find his kid.

"So we've got a family name for someone that might be willing to protect Dove, and you can trace the area code, right? We can cross-reference them, get in contact with these Bakugous-" Takada- san interrupts him then, but for good reason,

"We also got Dove's first name!"

"Did we- Oh, fuck, we did. Okay, we can get to him, right, with all of this? To Izuku?" It feels odd to call Dove anything but that nickname, but it still rolls off of his tongue sweetly. He can't wait to meet his boy, even under potentially-awful circumstances.

Hiroto-san's words snap him out of any happy ideas though, albeit they're technically positive overall:

"We should be able to, and if those Bakugous are co-operative it will be quicker, by far. There could be a dozen little boys named Izuku in the area otherwise."

"Kami, there could. Fuck. At least Bakugou isn't a common family name. Any start on the area code?" Takads-san is the one to speak up again then, fingers flying over a keyboard as she glances up at him for a second, eyes clear and bright for all the distinct worry in them,

"Well, the good news is that they're in Musutafu, albeit the downtown district, in the-"

The next four minutes (Hizashi counts every single one, anxious to get to his kid) are a blur from there. They manage to find a Bakugou family who apparently live in the nicer part of that area, and Hizashi is the one to take over calling them. The phone gets picked up within a few rings, a soft male voice introducing himself as Bakugou Masaru, and Hizashi could cry or scream in pure hope,

"Hey there, this is Present Mic, pro hero. Sorry for the abrupt call, but do you know a child called Izuku and his mother?"

"Why- You're the hero with the radio show that Katsuki and Izuku like so much. I recognise your voice. Why are you contacting me? Is Izu-kun alright?" The man sounds genuinely concerned, some of the softness of his voice lost to something like panic, and damn, Hizashi can relate.

"I'm concerned that his home life might not be the best. He rings in fairly often, and there's been a few alarm bells in the past, but nothing major enough to warrant an investigation. Tonight, however..." He lets himself trail off, and there's something so uncomfortable to the silence, Bakugou clearly trying to process that information.

"Please let me get my wife so that we can both talk to you. I won't be a moment."

Hizashi hangs up the phone no less than six minutes later, armed with an address and some more names: Midoriya. Midoriya Inko and Midoriya Izuku. His Dove and the woman that might just be his abuser. Suffice to say that Hizashi is still furious.

But, with his agency taking over the radio show for the rest of the night, Hizashi is free to pile himself into his car, setting up his sat nav with the address given to him by Masaru-san, and ringing up his husband even as he pulls away,

"Shouta, were you-"

"I heard, Zashi." And thank Kami for his wonderful Shouta, because the other man might be perpetually tired and grumpy, but he's also unerringly perfect,

"You better ring me once you get him and bring him straight home. I've contacted Tsukauchi asking that he sends an officer to whatever location your station gives him, and that he himself will come over to ours sometime tomorrow to talk to the kid. Do you remember where we put that lighter weighted blanket?"

"Fuck, I love you Shou-Shou, you know that?" He can just imagine the combination of rolled eyes and red ears that comment is earning him,

"But also, try at the back of the linen cupboard? I think it got shoved behind those ugly towels Tensei sent us."

"Ugh. Right. Look after our kid, Zashi." And damn, how his heart warms at the simple use of 'our'. He really is lucky to have his grumpy, soft husband.

"Will do, Shou. Love you."

"You too." Shouta hangs up then, and Hizashi loses his half-smile almost instantly. Dammit, he

really hopes his kid is okay. Their kid. Hizashi might not forgive himself if he's not.

Honestly, the only thing keeping Hizashi from speeding right now is that getting pulled over or having a crash would take more time up in the long run, and he really wants to get to his lil' listener without any problems, so that he might be sort of calm in time to meet the kid and make sure he's safe. If he isn't safe- Well, Hizashi doesn't know quite what he'll do because this is his Dove, his sweet little baby who is always so clever and kind, hidden beneath so much low confidence and

fear it almost hurts to hear. It's worth it, of course. Having been able to hear the kid come slowly out of his shell for the last eight months or so has been an absolute blessing that the blond would never take back. Even Shouta adores the listener, and that's just from how much Hizashi has rambled about his Dove, and from listening in on the kid calling him up. Plus his husband had been impressed when the kid had the foresight to, when asking Hizashi about delicate details of heroes he might have met, not use direct names for heroes. Sure, most of the clues were easy enough to put together in the end, but when conversations spanned weeks, it wasn't quite as easy to unless someone - read, Hizashi - was religiously noting down every single thing the kid said.

But now his Dove might be hurt. He might be worse. The Bakugous had insisted that Inko is a gentle soul that adores her boy, but when Hizashi told them of the situation, they had audibly faltered, before the husband had admitted that their friend had seemed to change over time, and that Izuku had too. The pressures of being Quirkless, apparently. Hizashi calls bullshit. His lil' Dove needs to have a good parent, and if this Inko lady isn't cutting it, then Hizashi will cut her.

Or just blow her eardrums out and leave her to the police. Whatever's easier in the moment, really, and so long as his Do- so long as Izuku-kun won't be exposed to it.

Before he can decide whether or not it's worth putting Shouta's spare car knife on his belt or not, Hizashi's sat nav is announcing that he's on the right street for his destination, and he barely even bothers with parking properly before shoving out of the car and racing over to the tall apartment block, leaping up the stairs until he's on the fourth floor, right near the top. Now, to knock or not to knock? He doesn't want to scare the kid, but also-

He taps his toes three times, low on the door and near-silently, so that if his kid is curled against it he'll know to move, and then Hizashi promptly kicks the door open in two angry strikes, and uses the outlet to smooth his expression out. The house smells, mostly of cheap booze, and there's both dirt and stains even in the entrance way. If they have much money, it's not going to the right places, that's for sure. It makes it hard to keep the level of composure he's still scraping together,

"Midoriya Inko? I have some questions for you, ma'am!" He isn't using his Quirk, not yet, and he pitches his voice a little deeper than usual. Better not to give the game away immediately. And his patience is rewarded by the sound of a slamming door (far too reminiscent of what he heard over the radio call line only, what, twenty, thirty minutes before), slightly staggered footsteps, and what might just be the very faint sounds of a child crying. Fuck.

"Who the hell are you? And what have you done to my door?" Well, it's easy enough to gloss over the latter point,

"I'm a hero, ma'am, and I received information from a concerned neighbour suggesting that there may be domestic violence and child abuse occurring in this household. Am I likely to find anything here that will substantiate that claim?" It's procedure, albeit a lie, and he forces himself to breathe through every sickening word. He doesn't like calling her ma'am as though she deserves respect, nor does he like that he can't hear anything beyond her heavy breathing any more. What if his

Dove is hurt?

"What? Of course it isn't true!"

"Then you won't mind if I have a quick look around, or talk to your s- child?" Luckily, she doesn't seem to catch that he almost slipped because, sure, a concerned neighbour could have told him about the kid, but he'd rather involve the lie as little as possible.

"I'm not having a stranger talk to my Izuku! He's my baby!" Oh, fuck this bitch.

"Ma'am, I'm the number seventy hero, Present Mic. I'd like to think you might recognise the name." His voice has reached that point it gets to - the quiet, blank one that has anyone who knows him well running away immediately - and yet she doesn't seem to pick up on any threat to his tone and looming posture, just squinting up at him,

"You could be lying! You broke my door down!" Her voice really is annoying him now, because she's shouting at him like how she was shouting at lil' Dove earlier, and oh, how that has the blond's boiling by several more degrees because if it feels loud to him, then how must it feel as a little kid, with his own mother screaming at him?

"Ma'am, I need to see your child." Fuck, if she protests one more time, Hizashi will not be responsible for his a-

"No!"

That's it. He can't not go and find his kid, so Hizashi drops the fake genial smile and shoves straight past her, not caring in the least for the fact that, in her drunken state, it sends her staggering. Kami, fuck her. She doesn't deserve any child, let alone one as wonderful a kid as his Dove, she really doesn't.

Moving through the dim flat is a quick job, despite the occasional bottle or item of clothing on the floor. Inko, judging by the occasional groan but her silence otherwise, has decided to stay where she half-fell. It leaves Hizashi free to scan the furniture, the walls, any little hidey-holes where a scared child might tuck themselves away, but he finds nothing until he reaches a door at the end of the hallway. There are two locks on the outside of it, but more than that there's a nameplate, crooked with one broken and one complete tuft of All Might's signature hair, with simple characters spelling out 'Izuku'. His Dove's bedroom.

"Hey, lil' Dove, it's Present Mic. Can I come in?" He waits as long as he can bear, which is slightlymore than the perfunctory ten seconds at least, but he's all too aware that his boy could be in any sort of state right now, from sleeping quite happily to dying, and it's with that awful thought crashing around in his head that he pushes the door open entirely, peeking around before stepping through.

For a minute, he doesn't think his boy's even in here. There's some pencils and paper strewn over the floor in one corner, scattered, and he recognises the yellow goggles drawn carefully upon one of the sheets, little notes and labels written around it. Either way, there's no Dove with them. Nor

atop the bed, or in the open wardrobe, nor anywhere else. But then he hears the faintest rasping sound, fabric against wood, and realisation hits him in a hot-cold rush. Yet forcing hinmself to push aside his anger and sorrow and fear, Hizashi kneels down, glad for having decided to forego his Present Mic hairstyle as he was only in the studio today, and peers under the bed from across the room.

Eyes, green and hazy and so very sad, peer back at him.

He waits. His joints don't like being awkwardly knelt down, head tilted, but he waits anyway. And, after thirty-four breaths, the kid blinks at him, slow and languid, reminding Hizashi of a cat,

"P-Present Mic-san?" His voice is just as painfully sweet in real life as it is over phone, and Hizashi just wants to wrap him up in blankets and hugs and Shouta's capture weapon forever,

"Hey there, lil' Dove. Don't suppose you wanna come home with me, do you? You can meet Susan and Raggy and Chocolate Box in person!" He keeps his voice upbeat, albeit not as cheery as usual, even as he settles a very careful hand palm-up beside the kid, an open offer. And he's rewarded, after several long moments, with little fingers curling against his, trembling and timid and oh-so delightful. Because they're there, a point of physical contact with the kid that could maybe become their son, and Hizashi allows himself to absolutely revel in it for a few minutes. Oh, how gorgeous their kid is, inside-out, even with a bruise across his cheekbone and a nervous stutter from lacking confidence and surety and safety. This is their Dove, here with Hizashi, and there's no more wonderful a thought.

Well, there is one more wonderful thought possible. And Izuku blesses him with it by blinking again, something like the very barest beginnings of a smile creeping into place,

"M-maybe?"

"You'll be safe with me, lil' Dove. Lil' Izuku," here he smiles again, simple and Hizashi-soft,

"Me and Shouta and the cats will look after you, and we'll love you, but if you're not happy with us after a little while, then we can find you somewhere else that's safe and lovely and good for you, and you can have as much or little contact with us as you want. It's all up to you, b- sweetheart-" He doesn't want to call the sweet child a baby when Inko had used that word earlier, just in case, "-all of it. I'll listen."

"Really?" There's hesitant hope there, and it's the brightest, loveliest thing Hizashi has ever heard in his life, even as Izuku begins to edge out from under his bed, curled around the blond's hand like there's nothing in the world more treasured.

"Really."

"I- I think I'd like that." Hizashi wants to whoop and cry and swing his sweet kid around, but instead he only smiles, soft and gentle and all Hizashi, and raises his other arm in silent offer.

He gets a shaking little boy curled into his chest in reply, breathing and heartbeat too fast and erratic, but he's so overjoyed to have his lil' Dove with him that he can only keep on smiling, pressing a kiss into the slightly-matted curls, idly wondering if Shouta still has any of the proper waves-and-curls shampoo the blond had bought for him a while ago. Izuku might be hurting right now, both physically and emotionally, and there are so many things that will need to be sorted out, from custody to schools to clothes, even favourite foods and maybe starting hobbies, but all of that can wait. In this moment, he just wants to hold their kid close whilst waiting for the police to arrive, and then he'll get his boy checked out so that he can take him home.

(Home becomes three people and three cats. They've all got different hair colours, although two of them share green eyes. Their little boy has far more freckles than anyone else they know, but it's only a constellation-multiplication of the sunspots Shouta always develops a few weeks into summer. He's clever and quick and kind, somehow the best bits of both of them and, no, their little Dove isn't perfect, but dammit he's close, and they adore him either way. Luckily, he loves them too. So home becomes a happy place, one with troubles at times but it wouldn't be theirs without it, and there's home-cooked meals, help with homework, and evenings spent sprawled out together, and none of them could be any more grateful for it.)