Chapter 5
As the Bakugos made their way out of the Midoriya household, the atmosphere settled into a quiet calm. Inko began to clear the dinner table, while Izuku, still awkwardly adjusting to her new form, tried to help. The transition from her usual self to this smaller, more delicate frame was proving to be more challenging than she had anticipated.
"Here, let me help, Mom," Izuku said, reaching for a stack of plates. However, her once-strong and capable hands now felt small and clumsy. The plates wobbled dangerously in her grip, and Inko quickly intervened, steadying them with her own hands.
"It's okay, Izuku. I can handle this," Inko said gently, trying to hide her concern.
Izuku shook her head stubbornly. "No, I want to help. I need to get used to this."
Determined, Izuku reached for a glass, intending to carry it to the sink. But her new, smaller hands couldn't quite grasp it as securely as she intended. The glass slipped, and she fumbled to catch it, ultimately managing to save it from shattering on the floor, but not without an embarrassing amount of noise and commotion.
"Sorry, Mom," she mumbled, her face flushing with frustration and embarrassment.
Inko gave her a sympathetic smile. "It's alright, sweetie. You're doing your best. Just take it slow."
Trying to regain some semblance of control, Izuku decided to tackle something simpler: folding the napkins. She picked up one, but her smaller fingers struggled with the task that once seemed so mundane. The napkin seemed to have a mind of its own, refusing to cooperate as she tried to fold it neatly. It ended up looking more like a crumpled piece of paper than the neatly folded square she aimed for.
Izuku sighed, exasperated. "Why is this so hard?"
Inko paused from her work, looking at her daughter with a mix of empathy and encouragement. "It's just going to take some time to adjust, Izuku. You're doing great."
Izuku nodded, though she couldn't shake the feeling of uselessness that was creeping in. She decided to try something else, moving to gather the silverware. Bending down to pick up a fallen fork, she realized just how much shorter she was now. What was once a simple bend-and-grab now required a more awkward squat, and even then, her reach felt inadequate. She nearly toppled over as she tried to stand up, clutching the fork triumphantly but feeling more like she had won a small battle in a much larger war.
"Got it!" she said, trying to sound cheerful, though the strain in her voice was evident.
Inko chuckled softly. "You're doing fine, Izuku. Why don't you take a break? You've had a long day."
Izuku reluctantly agreed, sitting down heavily in a chair that now felt too big for her. She looked around the familiar kitchen, everything now seeming oversized and daunting. Her mother continued to move gracefully around the kitchen, handling the cleanup with practiced ease. Izuku's eyes followed her, feeling both admiration and a pang of frustration at her own current ineptitude.
Inko, sensing her daughter's inner turmoil, came over and placed a gentle hand on Izuku's shoulder. "We'll get through this, Izuku. Together. You don't have to do everything at once."
Izuku nodded, taking a deep breath. "Thanks, Mom. I'll keep trying."
Inko smiled warmly. "That's my girl. Now, why don't you sit back and relax for a bit? You've earned it."
Izuku leaned back, feeling a bit better despite the awkwardness of the evening. She knew it would take time to adjust, but with her mother's support, she felt ready to face the challenges ahead.
Suddenly, a soft knock echoed through the apartment. Inko paused, her hands full of dishes, and exchanged a puzzled glance with Izuku. "Who could that be now?"
Izuku shrugged. "I'll get it, Mom."
As Izuku swung open the door, her eyes widened in disbelief at the sight before her. There stood Eri, a fragile figure shrouded in tattered clothes, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and longing.
"Eri?" Izuku's voice trembled with surprise, her heart skipping a beat as she recognized the little girl standing on her doorstep. "What are you doing here?"
.
The girl in question's eyes widened. "Y-you know me…"
"Of course, I do!" Izuku exclaimed. "But what are you doing here…?"
Eri hesitated, her voice barely a whisper as she fought back tears. "I... I followed someone. I thought she might be my sister."
Izuku's heart twisted with empathy as she took in Eri's trembling form. Without hesitation, she stepped aside, gesturing for Eri to enter. "Come inside, Eri. You must be freezing out here."
Inko appeared in the doorway, her eyes widening at the sight of the young girl. "Oh dear, what's happened to you? Are you alright?"
Eri shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes as she struggled to find her voice. "I... I'm so hungry."
Inko's expression softened with concern as she guided Eri to the kitchen table, wrapping a cozy blanket around her shoulders. "Let's get you something to eat first. You look like you could use a good meal."
With quick and practiced movements, Inko darted around the kitchen, gathering bread, cheese, and a steaming bowl of soup. She placed the food in front of Eri with a reassuring smile. "Here you go, dear. I am Inko Midoriya and this is my daughter Izuku Midoriya. Eat as much as you want."
Eri hesitated for a moment, her eyes wide with hunger, before she dove into the meal with ravenous fervour. Inko and Izuku watched, their hearts heavy with sorrow for the little girl who had endured so much.
As Eri ate, her small frame gradually began to relax, enveloped in the warmth and kindness of her newfound caretakers. With each spoonful of soup and morsel of bread, Eri's eyes flickered with a mixture of gratitude and longing. She had never tasted anything so delicious, so comforting. And as she looked up at Izuku, she felt a wave of emotion wash over her.
With each bite, she felt a glimmer of hope ignite within her, a flicker of light in the darkness that had consumed her for so long. She looked up at them, her voice trembling with emotion. "I was with... Overhaul. He... he hurt me. A lot."
Izuku's eyes widened in shock, and Inko's face paled. "Oh, Eri..."
Eri's small hands gripped the edge of the table tightly, her eyes welling up with tears. "He used my quirk. He made me... made me do terrible things. I was just a tool to him."
Izuku reached out, placing a comforting hand on Eri's. "You're safe now, Eri. Overhaul can't hurt you anymore."
Eri nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I ran away. I didn't know where to go. I saw the girl... with green hair... and I thought maybe she was my sister. I just wanted to find my family."
Inko knelt beside Eri, gently pulling her into a hug. "I'm so sorry for what you've been through, Eri. You're safe here with us. We'll take care of you."
Eri clung to Inko, her small frame shaking with sobs. "Thank you... I just want to live peacefully."
Izuku, her eyes filled with determination, joined the hug. "We'll help you, Eri. You have us."
Eri sniffled, a small smile forming on her lips despite her tears. "Thank you... so much."
"Izuku-nee-chan," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "Thank you... for everything. You've been so kind to me."
Izuku's eyes glistened with unshed tears as she reached out, taking Eri's hand in hers. "You're welcome, Eri. You're not alone anymore. We're here for you."
Inko watched the exchange between the two girls, her heart swelling with compassion and empathy. She knew all too well the pain of loneliness and the healing power of kindness. And as she looked at Eri, she saw not just a lost child, but a soul in need of love and belonging.
"Eri," she said softly, her voice filled with warmth and reassurance. "You're welcome to stay with us for as long as you need. You're like family to us now."
Eri's eyes widened in disbelief, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Really?" she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.
Inko nodded, her smile unwavering. "Of course, dear. You're safe here with us. And we'll do everything
to help you."
Eri shifted nervously in her seat, her gaze flickering between Izuku and Inko. She swallowed hard, mustering up the courage to voice the question that had been weighing heavily on her heart.
"Miss," she began, her voice trembling with uncertainty. "Um... can I... call you Mom?"
Inko's eyes widened in surprise, her heart swelling with emotion at the unexpected request. She reached out, taking Eri's hand in hers and squeezing it gently. "Oh, sweetheart," she said softly, her voice filled with warmth and affection. "Of course you can call me Mom. You're like a daughter to me already."
Eri's eyes welled up with tears at Inko's words, her heart overflowing with gratitude and joy. She had never known the love of a mother before, never experienced the warmth and comfort of being part of a family. And now, here she was, surrounded by people who cared for her deeply, who accepted her for who she was.
"Thank you," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "Thank you for everything."
Inko pulled Eri into a tight embrace, her arms wrapping around the young girl in a gesture of unconditional love and support. "You're welcome, sweetheart," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "You're part of our family now, and we'll always be here for you."
Izuku watched the scene unfold with tears in her eyes, her heart overflowing with love and gratitude for the two incredible women in her life. She knew that their bond had been forged in hardship and adversity, but now, as they stood together in the warm glow of the kitchen, she felt a sense of peace settle over her like a gentle embrace.
.
And as the night stretched on, filled with shared stories and quiet moments of companionship, Eri felt a glimmer of hope ignite within her. She may have been lost and alone before, but now she had found a family, a sanctuary where she could finally begin to rebuild her shattered life.
All Might,
Eri is with me, in our house. I don't know how but somehow she managed to escape from Overhaul and come here. she found me because her quirk resonated with mine.
I have sent you the recording of her conversation with us about her time with Overhaul. I have also sent you the photos of the wounds on her body. These should be more than enough for you to arrest Overhaul.
Mom is probably going to adopt her and I sincerely request you, if you would be kind in a to arrange a lawyer for us.
I would also like to try something on you with my powers. Maybe, just maybe, I can heal you.
That's it.
—Izuku Midoriya
As the night wore on and the comforting glow of the kitchen lights faded, Eri yawned softly, feeling the weariness of the day settling in her bones. She looked up at Izuku with big, hopeful eyes.
Because of their direct connection, Eri was really comfortable around Izuku.
"Izuku-nee-chan," she murmured, her voice tinged with exhaustion. "Can you... braid my hair? Like sisters do?"
Izuku's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she fumbled with her hands, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "Um, well... I don't really know how to braid hair," she admitted sheepishly.
Eri's face fell, disappointment clouding her features. "Oh... okay," she said softly, trying to hide her disappointment.
Just then, Inko appeared in the doorway, a warm smile gracing her lips. "What's going on, girls?" she asked, noticing the tension in the air.
Eri looked up at Inko with pleading eyes. "Mi…Mom, can you braid my hair? Izuku-nee-chan said she doesn't know how."
Inko's smile widened as she stepped into the room, her heart swelling with love for her two children. "Of course, sweetheart. I'd be happy to."
With gentle hands, Inko guided Eri to a nearby chair and began to carefully braid her hair, her fingers deft and skilled from years of practice. Eri sighed contentedly, feeling the tension melting away with each gentle tug of the brush.
Izuku watched in awe as her mother worked her magic, a pang of jealousy tugging at her heart. She had always admired Inko's ability to braid hair with such ease and grace, wishing she could do the same.
Suddenly, Eri's eyes lit up with mischief as she turned to Izuku with a mischievous grin. "Hey, Izuku-nee-chan! Why don't you let Mom braid your hair too?"
Izuku's eyes widened in horror at the suggestion, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "What? No way! I-I'm not a little girl anymore," she stammered, her voice rising in protest.
Inko chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Oh, come on, Izuku. It'll be fun!"
Izuku groaned, feeling March's annoyance bubbling up inside her. "Fine!" she grumbled reluctantly, begrudgingly taking a seat next to Eri.
With a playful twinkle in her eye, Inko began to weave Izuku's unruly hair into a neat braid, her fingers working with practiced precision. Izuku squirmed uncomfortably in her seat, feeling ridiculous as her mother transformed her into a makeshift princess.
But as the minutes ticked by and Inko's soothing touch worked its magic, Izuku felt a strange sense of peace wash over her. She may have been embarrassed at first, but now she found herself enjoying the moment, relishing in the simple act of being pampered and cared for by her mother.
As Inko deftly finished braiding both Eri's and Izuku's hair, Izuku felt a warmth spreading through her cheeks, her heart racing with a mix of embarrassment and gratitude. She couldn't believe she had let herself be coaxed into this girly ritual, but seeing the smile on Eri's face made it all worth it.
Eri beamed up at Izuku, her eyes shining with happiness as she admired her newly braided hair. "Thank you, mom! Izuku-nee-chan! You look so pretty with your hair like this," she exclaimed, her joy infectious.
Izuku's cheeks flushed even deeper at the compliment, but she couldn't help but return Eri's smile. Despite her initial reservations, she felt a sense of warmth and belonging in this moment, a feeling she hadn't experienced in a long time.
As Inko stepped back to admire her handiwork, a proud smile gracing her lips, Izuku couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for the woman. She realised that family wasn't just about blood—it was about love, acceptance, and the willingness to embrace each other's quirks and imperfections.
Izuku leans in her chair and pulls out a yellow notebook. She entitles it: Rewind For All.
As Izuku's pen danced across the page, each stroke felt like a declaration of war against the shadows that threatened to engulf their world. With each line, she etched out a battle plan—a manifesto of determination and resolve, born from the depths of her soul.
"01. The USJ attack cannot be allowed to unfold unchecked. We must stand firm against the tide of villainy and, if necessary, confront Shigaraki head-on. The safety of our fellow heroes and innocents alike hinges on our actions.
02. David Shield and Melissa Shield are beacons of hope in a world veiled in darkness. It is our duty to ensure their survival, for their brilliance may yet tip the scales in our favor.
03. The specter of the Hero Killer Stain looms large, staining our streets with the blood of the innocent. We must unite against this threat, for the sake of justice and the preservation of our ideals.
04. The lives of Kota and countless others hang in the balance. We cannot turn a blind eye to their suffering; we must extend a hand to those in need, offering hope in the face of despair.
05. The confrontation with All For One in the warehouse must be averted at all costs. To do so, sacrifices must be made, and Katsuki Bakugo may hold the key to our success. It is a bitter pill to swallow, but the greater good demands it.
06. The flame of One For All must continue to burn within All Might, a beacon of hope in a world shrouded in darkness. We cannot allow its light to be extinguished, for it represents the very essence of heroism itself.
…"
As Izuku read over her list, a sense of determination settled over her like a suit of armour.
it was then she had a soft voice.
"Izuku-nee-chan, can you be my sleepover superhero and guard me from the monsters under the bed?" she pleaded, her voice a blend of sweetness and urgency.
Izuku, taken aback but unable to resist Eri's puppy-dog eyes, nodded enthusiastically. "Of course, Eri-chan! But just so you know, I'm more of a sidekick than a hero," she quipped, striking a heroic pose on the edge of the bed.
Eri giggled, her laughter like bubbles in a bath, as she handed Izuku a makeshift cardboard sword. "Then let's be sidekick superheroes together, Izuku-nee-chan!"
As Izuku tried to find a comfortable position without accidentally kicking Eri or hogging all the blankets, she resembled a contortionist in training. "Alright, Eri-chan, let's do this! But no kicking or stealing the covers, okay?" she joked, winking playfully.
Eri's eyes sparkled with mischief. "No promises, Izuku-nee-chan! I might need the covers to protect myself from the blanket monsters!"
With a dramatic flourish, Izuku brandished her cardboard sword, ready to fend off any imaginary foes. "Fear not, Eri-chan! With me by your side, no blanket monster stands a chance!"
The two of them dissolved into fits of giggles, their laughter echoing through the room like music. For a moment, they were not just a boy and a girl sharing a bed, but a dynamic duo on a quest for bedtime adventure.
As the laughter subsided and the excitement of the night waned, Izuku felt a warm sense of contentment wash over her. Despite the silliness of their antics, there was a profound comfort in knowing that she could be there for Eri, a friend and protector in a world full of unknowns.
TBC