Tenko hadn't even read half of what he wanted to, mainly because he'd gotten distracted by all the other loads of information on heroes (and other topics like quirks, quirk applications, support equipment, weaponry, and even things that didn't seem to have any value in heroics like notes on weather patterns, causes of natural disasters, causes of villainy, and- geez Izuku), when he finally heard the front door open and close.
He scrambled off the bed as he heard mom's cheery voice greet Izuku, and Izuku greet back. He scooped up the notebooks, evened them out and shoved them back on the shelf as he heard footsteps coming down the hall. Jumping back on the bed, he picked up his own notebook. The whole time he'd only made about three pages of notes, which he mentally groaned at (stupid brain getting distracted), before slamming that book shut too just as the door opened.
"Tenko?"
"Yeah?"
Tenko knew Izuku's look of confusion was justified. His own voice had sounded too high, he was smiling nervously, and he'd slammed that book shut far too hard.
He cleared his throat, set the notebook down on the nightstand slowly, and settled down on the bed, making an effort to relax as he spoke again. "Yes?"
Izuku seemed to wipe the confusion from his face, as if setting it aside for later. He looked down at the ground and stepped further inside, closing the door behind him. Then he stood still a moment, hesitated.
Tenko watched him, curious. The boy clearly needed to ask something. What could this be about?
Finally, Izuku looked up at him, and Tenko blinked, surprised by the amount of emotion swimming in those green eyes. There was fear, sadness, uncertainty, maybe even a little distrust. But there was mainly determination, or perhaps desperation, to find out what he needed to know.
He took a deep breath and spoke, quiet, meek, but firm.
"Tenko, where is dad?"
Tenko gaped, blinking a few times and mouth opening and closing like some fish. He found himself completely caught off guard by the question as he stared at the boy in front of him. Hadn't mom already gone over this with him?
But then he paused, he took a second to really think, to take it in, and he realized he shouldn't have been so surprised.
Izuku was smart; mainly analytical. He always had been, Tenko had always known he was. And if he hadn't, it was solidified by the notes he'd just spent hours going through. He was the most observant person Tenko had ever known, and he could probably tear a quirk apart from the inside out if he wanted to just from watching someone use it passing by on the street.
Izuku's analytical and observational skills extended beyond quirks and fighting; he applied them to people, reading emotions and lies effortlessly.
That boy could read a person like an open book. No matter how much you tried to hide it from him, he just knew how to read emotions, and therefore lies and motives, like it was second nature. He could read the smallest glint in the eyes of a frown, or the slightest twitch in the corners of a smile. Heck, how many times had he mentioned in passing being able to read something behind Shoto's blank expression?
It made only too much sense that mom had failed to lie to him this time around, especially about something that weighed only too heavy on her shoulders.
And his too. The whole incident that night, and Tenko's mood since, probably hadn't done much to diminish Izuku's suspicions.
It would have been obvious to anyone that something was off, that mom was probably lying or hiding something, but especially too Izuku. Being that it took him this long to ask, though, meant something probably happened at school to finally push him to confrontation.
An image of Katsuki came into his mind. He's the only one who could've found out. After all, mom and his mom were best friends.
He felt his fists clench. If that brat-
"Tenko?"
Izuku's voice snapped him out of it and back to the present. The boy was still looking at him, firmness still settled in his eyes and voice, but doubt seeping in with the long pause.
Tenko stared at his little brother now. He was such a smart, incredible little boy. It was so horrible that he'd been unlucky as to be so different, and it was so unfair that the world was so horrible to him for that.
He let out a breath. "He's in America."
The lie weighed heavily on his chest, like a lump in his throat. But it settled in every ounce of his body with a coldness he didn't realize he'd had in him until this point. He was pretty sure that coldness had slipped into his voice and expression, as well, but he tried his best to push it back before Izuku saw.
Something shifted in the boy's eyes, something unreadable. "R-really?" That familiar stutter was back. Izuku had doubt in his voice. But it almost sounded less like he believed it wasn't true and more like he just really, really hoped it wasn't.
Tenko felt his own hard resolve crumble slightly at that, but he nodded, forcing all the firmness, all the certainty into his own eyes and at Izuku. And he tried to keep that coldness out, but he felt it flooding in as well. Like he just didn't care anymore.
Then something happened. Something changed. Maybe something broke, or maybe something formed, he wasn't sure. But suddenly there were tears in those pools of green, running down those freckled cheeks. All those emotions were spinning.
Tenko felt his heart squeeze, and he reached forward instinctually to help, to comfort, to do something. But then he paused, not sure what he should actually do.
Izuku scrubbed the tears away, sniffling, struggling to make himself stop crying. Once the tears had stopped running, he clutched the fabric of his shirt tightly into balls in his fist, knuckles turning white, and looked back up at Tenko. His eyes were still wet with unshed tears, but he held them back, gripping for that last bit of whatever strength he had in there as he spoke again, voice now shaky and watery. Scared.
"Tenko? Is- Is daddy c- coming home?"
Tenko's heart did some odd stuttering things then, like it couldn't decide whether to speed up and start beating a thousand miles an hour or stop completely. Eventually it settled on speeding up and pounding in his chest.
He stared at Izuku, and he didn't blink. He had no clue what his expression could be reading right now, and he wasn't sure he cared.
Only one thought was going through his mind at that moment, racing and spinning like it was desperate to escape and would make his skull explode to do so.
Did Izuku know?
Did he somehow, someway, find out that dad might not come back?
How?
And how much else did he know?
His mind was still racing, so much so that he barely noticed when the rest of Izuku's little bit of hope shattered and crumbled. The tears came pouring back down, and the only thing that finally snapped him out of his own head was the
His mind was racing so much, that the only thing that snapped him out of it was the sound of a small, weak whimper. He blinked. Izuku was crying again, harder than before. Any ounce of the hope he'd been holding onto before had vanished. The boy looked crushed.
"Izuku…" Tenko breathed, wanting answers, but putting that aside, knowing he needed to figure out how to calm Izuku down and come up with an explanation right now.
But before he could say anything else, Izuku buried his face in his hands, spun around, pulled the door open and fled the room. A minute later, Tenko heard the bathroom door shut.
Tenko stared for a minute, then let out a shaky sigh.
Oh no.
—-
"Is- Is daddy c- coming home?"
Izuku anxiously watched through his vision blurred by tears, his fists gripping his shirt painfully tight, as Tenko's gaze darted to him immediately after the words.
His big brother's red eyes were suddenly wide, and… haunted. Shocked, confused, torn.
But Izuku ignored all those, all the surface level emotions of surprise, and let his desperation dig deeper. He dug deeper and harder than he ever had before. He searched those eyes, searched for any sign of what he was looking for, any sign at all. He needed to know.
He had to know.
He hit coldness. Coldness that was seeping in from every corner, every crack, but being forced back, like it was trying to take over but Tenko wouldn't let it. Chills ran down his spine, but he kept going.
The coldness got colder, thicker. He hated it. But he kept digging.
Until finally, finally, he saw it. Pain.
Pain, and frustration, and fear. Sadness. Hurt. And, betrayal?
Betrayal.
Dad.
He felt the last bit of hope he'd been holding onto fall and break, crushed, stepped on like something that didn't matter. Something that never had.
Before he knew it, his cheeks were wet all over again with warm, fresh tears.
"Izuku…" he heard Tenko murmur. He looked like he wanted to help. Like he wanted to say something, like he wanted to fix it. But he didn't know how.
Izuku knew why. He couldn't.
He couldn't fix something this broken.
He turned around, pulled the door open and ran. He felt ashamed, ashamed of himself for not realizing sooner, for being so naive. It made sense, after all.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew it didn't. He knew something still wasn't fitting together quite right. And one day he'd go back and think more about it, he'd realize that he shouldn't have jumped to conclusions so quickly.
But at the moment, all he could think of was Kacchan. Was how the boy, how his best friend, had abandoned him the instant he heard he was quirkless.
He sprinted to the bathroom, shut the door and locked it. He turned on the air conditioner. Then he turned on the shower for extra measure, before he sank to the floor and cried.
Dad had really left.
—-
Inko heard the bathroom door shut, and the shower turn on, while she was wiping off the kitchen counter, preparing to make dinner. She looked up, curious, but then went back to what she was doing, not thinking much of it.
And that's when her phone buzzed. She bunched the paper towel up, tossed it over to the trash can, and picked her phone up.
Her heart fluttered when she saw the message was from Hisashi, though she couldn't tell if it was from nerves or the excitement of hearing from him.
Unfortunately, it didn't matter, because as she clicked on the message and read, it ended up being nerves which won out and quickly turned into absolute panic.
Although it was only four short words that's she read over and over again.
Unknown: It's time. I'm sorry.