Izuku Midoriya was young. He had only turned eight a few months ago, and he barely even looked that old. People mistook him for a kindergartener in school all the time.

He was young, and he was small, and he was also quirkless. But he was smart.

He was observant and analytical. He could read people like an open book, and analyze a situation better than most teenagers, or even adults. He also loved to analyze quirks. Since he didn't have one of his own, he'd decided he could use analysis to try and study other quirks and use the information in unique ways.

After all, he was going to have to be extremely creative and inventive if he was going to become a hero. Without a quirk, he was at a severe disadvantage. He'd need to make up for that somehow.

Of course, very few knew this of him. He might tell more people if he could, but no one would believe him. He'd learned that the hard way. After all, there was no way a quirkless kid could even be smart enough to pass tests without cheating, much less analysis.

So, yeah, after that first time his notebook had gotten destroyed, he knew it was a risk bringing it to school. So instead, he just learned how to hide it better. How to be less obvious when getting out of other kids information on their quirks, how to store information in his head until he was alone to write it down.

He was thinking about which classmate to write about next- maybe the girl with the dragon quirk? He was interested in how similar it was to daddie's- when he heard a phone ringing.

It took him a second to realize it wasn't coming from outside, but from in the room. He glanced around until he spot Tenko's phone on the nightstand, buzzing and lit up with a caller ID. Tenko must've left it there.

He walked over and picked it up, reading the ID. It was Rumi. Figuring Tenko probably wouldn't mind, he picked it up and answered, putting it on speaker phone. "Hello?"

There was silence for a moment, then, "Izuku?" Rumi's voice was higher than normal, and raw sounding, like maybe she'd been crying. His smile fell and his eyebrows furrowed. He didn't like that.

"Hi, Rumi! Tenko left his phone in the bedroom, he's outside."

"Oh." There was a pause where he thought he could hear her whispering to someone else before she spoke again, notably lighter in tone, but definitely forced. "Could we talk to Tenko, baby bunny?"

"Sure, let me grab him."

He opened the bedroom door and stepped out. He could hear the TV playing the news, some woman's voice talking, as he turned the corner. "Hey Ten- ko…?"

He paused and trailed off at the scene in the living room. Tenko was there, but he was on the ground curled up around himself, head ducked, shaking and heavily breathing, whispering something Izuku couldn't hear. Momma and daddy were by him, rubbing his back and trying to calm him down, mumbling reassurances. But Tenko didn't seem to be hearing them.

Izuku quickly pressed the mute button on the call and hugged the phone to his chest, watching in silence.

This wasn't a new sight for him. Since the incident with Tenko's quirk, panic attacks and breakdowns had been more common. They'd slowed down a bit over time, but he still saw something like this at least every couple of weeks. Momma had even taught Izuku the breathing pattern to help Tenko follow if he had a panic attack at school or while they weren't home. It had come in handy multiple times.

That didn't make it any easier to watch though. Izuku hated seeing his big brother like this.

And something about this felt different. Something about Tenko's panic felt less… panicky, and more sad. No, devastated. Momma and daddy's movements, despite how comforting they tried to be, felt less steady and calming and more distressed, almost panicked and sad themselves. Something told Izuku there was more behind this than Tenko's everyday triggers.

Then the words being said on the TV registered.

"This young boy's death is certainly a tragic one, and the world gives its best regards to the Todoroki family."

Wait, what?

"Hey, Tenko? Bud? I need you to stop scratching," daddy was saying, sounding urgent. "I know- I know it's itchy, but you need to- no! No, no taking the gloves off, Tenko. Stop! Dang it, where's the remote? We need to turnt his TV off!"

That was the last thing Izuku heard, because suddenly his mind was racing a thousand miles an hour.

Izuku was young, yes, but he was smart. He understood more then people gave him credit for, and he could piece together information, just like he'd done that weekend at Touya's house.

Izuku had known Touya for several years now. He'd watched Touya and Tenko interact, watched them both over the last three years.

And he'd known almost as long that there was something off about Touya, just like he'd known there was something wrong with Tenko.

Since he was little he'd noticed how different Tenko was from himself and other kids, and not in the normal way. He'd noticed the strange behavioral tendencies that he'd eventually realized were responses to trauma and PTSD in his big brother. And time and time again, he'd noticed the same things in Touya.

Maybe they were better hidden, maybe they weren't exactly the same, maybe he had no real proof that anything was wrong, but he had a feeling. He'd had the same feeling with Tenko, and he'd been right about that.

Then Shoto came in, and Izuku realized whatever was wrong didn't just affect Touya. Whatever it was was effecting Shoto too, because the little boy was just as bad, if not worse then his older brother.

The more time he spent with them both, the more he noticed. The way they both avoided talking about their home life and family, especially their father when Izuku asked. The way Shoto seemed almost ashamed of his own quirk, specifically his fathers half. The burn scar, which was most definitely not from fire since he was fire resistant, but was so directly aimed toward that half of his face… the one that looked like his father…

Something was wrong. Izuku had never been the biggest fan of Endeavor, being how rude he was in all his interviews and public appearances. And now with how much Touya and Shoto avoided even the subject of him, it seemed like there was something less then flattering they knew about their father that he didn't.

The fact that they never even considered inviting him or Tenko over until the weekend their father wasn't home only strengthened his suspicions.

But Endeavor was a hero, the number 2 even, and he saved people and defeated evil villains. What could be so bad about a top hero?

But that was beside the point. The point is, Izuku had always known there was something off. He just hadn't exactly realized Tenko was in on the secret, until he over heard his and Touya's quiet argument the first night they were there.

"Do you honestly think this will fix everything he's done to you, Touya?"

"It has to… I need him to look at me."

"If he hurts you…"

"He won't."

Izuku had picked up on the hidden tension during the whole weekend after that. Neither of them let it show, neither let it affect their weekend, they didn't even acknowledge it was there.

But it was, all weekend, behind their eyes. It was in the back of their minds. It was there in the way at least one of them was still awake hours past when they lay down every night. It was there in the way they avoided the subject of what happened, or what was soon to happen, all weekend.

It was there when Tenko had told Izuku to go ahead, so he could talk to Touya.

And it was there now. The only difference was it wasn't hidden anymore. It was in Tenko's eyes, in his posture, in his breathing, and his whispers, in his entire demeanor.

The regret, the pain, the devastation. The grief, the fear, the shame. The anger, the self blame, the hurt.

Some he'd seen before, some he hadn't, but he could suddenly see them all clearly, all coming off his brother. Some even off his parents.

Suddenly he remembered.

Even out of the voice that came from the phone.

He took exactly three, numb steps forward, before he could see the TV screen clearly. A violent chill wracked up his body at the image.

It was Touya, entirely white hair, in the Aldera Junior High uniform. He was smiling, his bright blue eyes gleaming. At least that's what he thought of it the first time he'd seen it, in last year's school picture book. Now, looking at the picture, those eyes only looked empty, the smile only looked fake. He suddenly looked… broken.

Then Izuku's eyes finally trickled down the words on the bottom of the screen.

Death of Touya Todoroki, son of Endeavor.

Oh how he hated being right.

The TV shut off, plunging the room into dim silence. Nothing moved, nothing spoke, it felt like the whole world went still.

The only noises Izuku heard were Tenko. The heavy breathing, the gasps, the sobs. Tenko was crying now, Izuku belatedly realized, hard. He was still whispering though, louder, but even more pain filled as his voice cracked.

But Izuku could hear what he was saying now.

"No, no, he can't be- Touya can't- it's not real. He can't- dang it, I'm so, so sorry! This- it's my fault, I should've- how could I- dang it! I'll kill him, I'll kill that horrible man!"

He was just repeating those words, and similar ones, but the same message, over and over again. Like a broken record.

His mom said something to Izuku, he thought he said something back, he thought he'd gone into the kitchen and grabbed something for Tenko, but he barely registered any of it. He didn't fully register anything except the image of Touya in his mind, until he heard a voice.

He belatedly realized he was suddenly back in his room, the door shut, his body leaned against it weakly. And the voice was coming from- where was it coming from? Oh, it was coming from the phone. He still had it.

But that wasn't Rumi's voice, that was Keigo. That was Keigo, sounding so much worse than Rumi had before, and not even trying to hide it. He was saying Izuku's name.

Izuku could only manage a hum in response, before he realized he was still muted. He pulled the phone away from his chest to hit unmute, and was surprised to see a black screen, but in the corner his own face. Which was wet, and red, he suddenly realized. It had been an audio call though, hadn't it?

"Izuku," came Keigo's voice again. "You hit the camera button. Not the mute."

Oh.