Author's Pre-Chapter Comments
This chapter has been edited and rewritten again :|
Chapter 3
Everything Changed
In the dead of night, a black sedan sliced through the crowded main road, its engine growling like a prowling beast. Inside, three figures sat in tense silence: the driver, Yukimiru, and the President of the HPSC.
Beads of sweat trickled down the President's forehead as she stared intently at the tablet in her hands, her mind a whirlwind of chaos. How had everything spun so wildly out of control? Just hours ago, her plan was unfolding like clockwork. Now, it was a mess of shattered pieces.
The tablet displayed the profile of a bald man with wire-framed glasses—the same man who had ambushed Midoriya in a shocking turn of events.
"Miss Midoriya has been hospitalized at Musutafu Central Hospital," Yukimiru announced, his voice steady, but the President could detect the undercurrent of worry.
"And what about our guard?" she asked, her eyes never leaving the screen.
"He's dead, ma'am," Yukimiru replied gravely. "His body was discovered in an alley near the Midoriya's apartment."
"Goddammit!" The President swore under her breath, her grip tightening on the tablet. "Do we have any updates on Miss Midoriya's condition?"
"Regrettably, no," Yukimiru said. "But Izuku is now in the custody of the Musutafu Police."
The President covered her mouth, sinking into deep thought. This was a catastrophe. Her meticulously crafted plan had crumbled in mere hours.
She had orchestrated everything with meticulous precision. She had manipulated a low-level Tartarus inmate with the promise of freedom, instructing him to attack the Midoriya household and stage a kidnapping of Izuku. A hero planted by the HPSC was supposed to intervene, taking out the criminal—she never intended to uphold her end of the bargain with the felon. And a HPSC agent had been posted outside the Midoriya's apartment complex to act as an extra layer of security.
But her strategy had crumbled. The hired criminal was nowhere to be found, and Miss Midoriya's fate hung in the balance, possibly sealed forever.
The failed operation left the President battered, her pride bruised and her anxiety spiraling into anger. 'Why target the Midoriyas? And who could have eliminated our operative?' she pondered. Her nails dug into her palms as her thoughts raced. 'Had someone figured out Izuku's quirk? But that's unthinkable—only a select few know about his powers.'
"Ma'am."
Yukimiru's voice pulled the President from her thoughts. "Yes?" she asked.
"Should we go to the police station or the hospital?"
"Take us to the hospital first. If Inko Midoriya dies, it could create a serious problem for us."
"You heard the boss," Yukimiru instructed the driver.
The driver nodded, accelerating through the traffic toward Musutafu Central Hospital.
The President watched the cityscape blur past, knowing she had to adjust her plans now that Inko Midoriya was possibly dead. That meant her best source of information was gone.
She had meticulously researched Izuku and his family, trying to uncover how he had acquired those powers. She had dismissed any possibility of him inheriting them from his mother's side, considering the long line of quirkless individuals. That left his father's lineage as the only plausible source.
Her search for Izuku's father had turned up nothing. No birth certificates, no government records, and not even a mention on Inko Midoriya's marriage certificate. It was as if the man didn't exist, as if Izuku had been born through some asexual means. Her determination to learn more had driven her to press Inko for information, but now she realized her curiosity might have just cost her valuable intel.
'Doesn't matter,' the President thought. 'I can still use this to my advantage. Hopefully, Izuku knows something about his father.'
Mitsuki Bakugo, a striking ash-blonde woman with curves that commanded attention, was renowned for her beauty—a trait that only paled in comparison to her best friend, Inko. Her vibrant and outgoing, albeit sometimes brusque, charm had garnered her a devoted following throughout college and high school.
But now, Mitsuki was consumed by worry. An unexpected call from the Midoriya residence had taken her by surprise, sending a shiver of concern down her spine. Given her son's recent actions towards young Izuku, she had braced herself for a prolonged silence from Inko. But Mitsuki also knew that Inko was not one to hold grudges. She admired that about her—the green-haired mother was as fierce as she was forgiving, incapable of hatred.
When the call came, the voice on the other end was Izuku's, choked with sobs, his distress palpable even through fragmented pleas of "Please come here…" The tremor in his voice, so young and vulnerable, tugged at her heartstrings.
Driven by concern, Mitsuki draped an overcoat over her shoulders and hastened to the Midoriya home, her heart pounding in her chest. Masaru trailed behind, his footsteps echoing her urgency. Katsuki was notably absent, because he was confined to the house by her husband's stern instructions—a silent punishment for his behavior. The sight of police cars outside Inko and Izuku's apartment complex sent a jolt of shock through her, making her stomach twist with dread.
She had run past the officers, who were unable to stop her, and entered the complex, heading towards the one that belonged to her best friend. However, the scene there had stumped Mitsuki. The medics were loading Inko's body onto a stretcher, the huge red spot on the blanket a grim indicator of the tragedy that had unfolded. The sight pierced Mitsuki's heart like a shard of ice.
Masaru had assured her he would stay with Izuku, urging her to accompany the medics. Grateful for his unwavering support, Mitsuki followed them to the hospital, where she spent the ensuing hour oscillating between pacing the sterile corridors and sitting in the hard, plastic chairs, her anxiety unrelenting.
Minutes past midnight, the doctors remained behind the ER doors. Mitsuki's hands were joined in prayer, silently imploring any deity listening to spare Inko, to not strip Izuku of his last kin.
As she prepared to resume her restless vigil, the operation light dimmed. She leaped to her feet and approached the door, her heart pounding in her chest.
A few seconds later, the lead doctor emerged from the room, his expression somber. Mitsuki's heart raced at the sight, each beat echoing in her ears. "Doctor... H-How is she?" she stammered, her voice laced with dread.
"You are...?" the doctor inquired, his gaze steady and unyielding.
"I'm Mitsuki Bakugo, Inko Midoriya's best friend," she replied hastily, her voice cracking with desperation.
A look of understanding crossed the doctor's face, quickly replaced by sorrow. "I... It pains me to convey this, but there's no gentle way to say—"
"Say it already! Goddammit!" Mitsuki interjected, her patience frayed by worry.
The doctor exhaled a heavy sigh. "Inko Midoriya has passed away. My deepest condolences," he delivered the news with a heavy heart.
Mitsuki recoiled, collapsing into a nearby chair, her gaze fixed on the floor, eyes brimming with shock and disbelief. The news struck her like a physical blow, leaving her breathless and numb.
The doctor approached her, offering a consoling pat on her shoulder. "I regret that we could do no more," he expressed with genuine sympathy. Informing someone of a loved one's passing never got easier. "The blood loss was too severe. We could not save her. I'm truly sorry." With that, he departed to attend to his duties, leaving Mitsuki alone with her grief.
Mitsuki remained motionless, a single thought echoing through her mind. How would she convey this news to Izuku? How does one convey such a harrowing truth to a child—that his sole guardian, his cherished mother, was no more? She cradled her head in her hands, tears cascading down her cheeks, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
A stark realization dawned upon her; her apologies to Inko would forever remain unspoken. Her best friend would never witness Katsuki's growth through, nor share another moment of camaraderie with her over tea. Her best friend's presence had been irrevocably extinguished from her life.
Her reverie was shattered by the shrill ring of her phone. Retrieving it from her coat, she saw Masaru's name flashing on the screen. "Hello," she answered, her voice a whisper, steeped in sorrow.
"Mitsuki... Uh... Well, something terrible has happened," Masaru's voice came through, laden with gravity.
A soft sniffle escaped her. "What is it now?"
"The authorities have taken Izuku."
"WHAT!? WHY!? And you really let this happen!?" Panic laced her words, each one a wrecking ball of disbelief and anger.
"They intend to keep him. They dismissed my objections. They said that we've been blacklisted," Masaru explained, his tone somber.
"FUCK!" Mitsuki's outcry was a tempest of fury. "Masaru, get to the hospital immediately. I need to speak with the receptionist, and then we're heading to the police station."
"Understood, dear."
The call ended abruptly. Mitsuki pocketed her phone and, with a resolve as fierce as a storm, marched toward the receptionist to discuss Inko's final arrangements.
The black sedan glided to a stop in front of Musutafu Central Hospital, and the HPSC President stepped out, her junior closely in tow. Their arrival went unnoticed, a benefit of their hidden identities. The President's appearance and name were shrouded in secrecy, granting her the freedom to move without prying eyes. Nevertheless, as a woman who valued precaution, she preferred to use her quirk to mask her face—an invisible barrier that made her features blurred and unremarkable.
Upon reaching the reception, the President and Vice-President were greeted by a receptionist with prominent Japanese features. He looked up from his desk, his eyes curious. "How can I assist you today?"
The President smoothly presented her carefully forged HPSC license. "We're here on behalf of the HPSC to visit Miss Inko Midoriya."
"HPSC?" The receptionist's eyes widened in recognition. "May I ask what brings the HPSC here regarding Miss Midoriya?"
The President's tone was clipped and professional. "It's a confidential matter. Could you please direct us to her?"
The receptionist shook his head, regret clear in his expression. "I'm sorry, ma'am. Without police clearance, I can't grant access to Miss Midoriya's room."
Unfazed, the President pulled out a document. "Will this suffice?" she asked, presenting a paper bearing the Musutafu Police Chief's seal.
The receptionist examined the document meticulously before handing it back. "I'm afraid there's more," he said, his voice heavy with concern. "Miss Midoriya passed away about half an hour ago."
The President's eyebrow arched, a sign of mild surprise. "Nevertheless, I'd like to see her."
With a nod, the receptionist agreed. "I'll fetch the doctor who was in charge of Miss Midoriya. He'll escort you to her room." Standing up, he gestured for the duo to follow him into the hospital's depths.
As they walked, the President's mind raced. 'I can't be too late to bring Miss Midoriya back. If she is indeed deceased, I'll adjust my plan accordingly—certainly not a hindrance.'
They paused outside an office where the receptionist asked the President and Vice-President to wait. Moments later, he returned with a middle-aged man in tow.
"This is Dr. Toshiro," the receptionist introduced. "He was the doctor attending to Miss Midoriya."
Dr. Toshiro extended a hand, his grip firm. "Pleasure to meet you. I understand you're here regarding Miss Midoriya on a confidential matter and have the necessary clearance. I must inform you, however, that Miss Midoriya has passed away. Do you still wish to proceed?"
The President's response was unwavering. "Yes, we do."
"Very well, follow me," Dr. Toshiro motioned, leading them through the sterile hallways.
The HPSC President and Vice-President followed closely, eventually stopping outside room 666.
"Her body is inside," Dr. Toshiro said, gesturing to the door. "I'll be back shortly." With that, he left them.
The President turned to Yukimiru, her tone firm. "Stand guard at the entrance."
Yukimiru nodded, taking his position outside the door as the President stepped inside, his eyes scanning the corridor cautiously.
Upon entering the room, the President was embraced by the sterile, antiseptic scent of the hospital. She gently shut the door and approached the lifeless form of Miss Midoriya, who lay still on a bed, her green hair splayed out like a halo. Standing vigil, the President gazed down with a mix of sorrow and empathy. "Alas, poor soul," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Had you listened to me, you'd still be here, and young Izuku wouldn't be left alone in this cruel world."
With a glimmer of hope, the President placed her left hand over the chest of the green-haired woman, feeling the cold stillness beneath her palm. "For your sake, Izuku's, and mine, let this be the answer," she murmured, invoking her quirk. Her hair whipped about as if caught in a tempest, her power and aura blazing with an intense fervor. Eyes clenched shut, she focused her quirk with all her might.
But moments later, resignation set in. Her hair settled lifelessly, her aura dimming to a mere whisper. Panting, she conceded, "It seems I can't defeat death after all," her voice tinged with disbelief and sorrow.
Minutes passed before the President reemerged from the room, her expression a blend of exhaustion and disappointment.
"It was futile, wasn't it?" Yukimiru asked, his voice flat and devoid of emotion.
"Regrettably so," the President sighed, her breath filled with resignation. "Miss Midoriya has truly passed away."
"I presume we're heading to Musutafu Police Station next?" Yukimiru inquired.
"Yes, but first, there's something I need to ask the doctor," the President replied.
"Ah, already done?" a voice interrupted.
They turned to find Dr. Toshiro approaching them, his steps hurried.
"Thank you for letting me see Miss Midoriya," the President said with a nod.
"It's the least I could do. The poor woman only had one visitor, her best friend, if I recall," Dr. Toshiro replied, a note of sadness in his voice.
Yukimiru leaned in close, murmuring, "He's probably talking about Mitsuki Bakugo."
The President nodded in agreement. "Doctor, might I ask about the arrangements for Miss Midoriya's final homage?"
"Of course. Her friend mentioned plans for a memorial once the investigation is complete, alongside her husband," Dr. Toshiro explained.
"Understood. Thank you, doctor," the President said, bowing slightly. "We'll be on our way." With that, she turned and left, Yukimiru following closely behind. Their next destination was the Musutafu Police station.
"What the hell do you mean we can't take Izuku with us?" Mitsuki Bakugo snapped, her frustration boiling over.
"I'm sorry, ma'am," the police officer replied, maintaining a calm and professional tone. "But your family is on a blacklist with the Child Welfare Service. We can't allow you to take Izuku Midoriya."
Mitsuki and her husband Masaru stood resolute in the Musutafu Police Station, determined to take Izuku under their wing. Mitsuki felt a profound sense of duty to Inko, while Masaru steadfastly supported his wife's determination.
However, the authorities seemed to be a roadblock.
"Blacklisted?" Mitsuki's voice rose in disbelief. "We were never told anything about this!"
"You'll need to speak with the Child Welfare Service directly, ma'am," the officer explained patiently. "If there's been a mistake, you can sort it out with them. Once that's cleared up, you can apply to adopt Izuku Midoriya."
"And until then?" Mitsuki snapped again, her anger barely contained. "Where will Izuku stay?"
"We'll place him in an orphanage," the officer replied, unruffled by her anger.
"You must be joking!" Mitsuki slammed her palms on the desk, her voice a mix of disbelief and outrage. "You would put him in an orphanage rather than let him stay with his mother's best friend?"
The officer sighed, his patience fraying. "Ma'am," his voice was firm and authoritative, "we are simply following established protocols. Indeed, Izuku's mother has passed, and I sympathize with his loss. But this is not an isolated case. Every day, we see children orphaned by villain attacks or other tragedies. To you, he might seem unique, but to us, he is one among many. Good night, ma'am."
The officer left, leaving Mitsuki and Masaru alone in the meeting room. Overwhelmed with exhaustion, Mitsuki slumped into a chair, burying her face in her hands as tears welled up. "W-What do we do, Masaru?" she asked, her voice heavy with desperation and sobs.
Masaru sighed wearily, feeling as lost as his wife. He knelt before her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'm not sure what to do," he said gently. "The only thing I can think of is contacting the Child Welfare Service to see if we can get off the blacklist. Maybe we can convince them to let us adopt Izuku."
Mitsuki lowered her hands to her lap, staring blankly at the floor. "Yes, you're right," she agreed after a moment, her voice steadier. Standing up, she smoothed out her skirt. "Let's go and check on little Izuku."
"Of course, dear."
The Bakugos left the room and ventured further into the police station. They encountered another officer reviewing some files behind a desk.
"Officer," Masaru addressed him politely, approaching the desk.
The officer looked up, eyeing them curiously. "Yes?"
"Could we see Izuku Midoriya, just once, please?" Masaru requested, his voice hopeful. "We only want to make sure he's alright."
The officer closed his file and sighed, leaning back in his chair. "He's been very quiet since his arrival," he said, gesturing towards a door to his right. "He's in there. Maybe you can get him to talk."
"Also," Masaru asked softly, "has Izuku been told about his mother's passing?"
"No," the officer replied, shaking his head. "We haven't informed him yet."
Masaru thanked the officer, and Mitsuki walked past without a word, her husband following close behind. Entering the room, Mitsuki's gaze immediately fell on Izuku. She hurried to him, her heels clicking on the cold linoleum floor, and knelt down, her pencil skirt tightening around her thighs.
"Izuku, dear," Mitsuki spoke with a mother's tenderness, her voice soft and soothing. "Are you alright?"
But the blonde-haired woman received no response. Izuku sat there, his small frame hunched over, his eyes fixed on some distant point.
Mitsuki let out a sad chuckle, her heart heavy. "What am I saying? Of course, you're not alright." She gently rested her hands on Izuku's shoulders, feeling the slight tremble beneath her touch. "Have you managed to eat anything, Izuku?"
Again, there was no reply. Only the faint sound of his uneven breathing filled the room.
Tears flowed freely down Mitsuki's cheeks as she looked upon the child who had once been so full of joy and laughter. Her heart ached, splintering with each silent moment. This wasn't the fate he deserved. He should be free to laugh and play, to experience the pure happiness of childhood.
"I-Izuku, dear," Mitsuki managed, her voice cracking with emotion. "Please, speak to me," she pleaded through her tears, her mascara running down her cheeks, leaving dark trails.
But Izuku remained silent, his eyes distant and unresponsive. The sight of his vacant stare was like a knife twisting in Mitsuki's chest.
Mitsuki's shoulders slumped, her eyes closing tightly as tears slid down her face. She had known this moment was coming, had steeled herself against it, but nothing could prepare her for the sight of such a vibrant child reduced to this state of desolation. Her heart shattered into a thousand pieces, each one a testament to the unfairness of the world.
What cruelty had the world inflicted on this innocent soul? How could it be so unforgiving?
Suddenly, she felt the softest touch on her cheek. Her eyes flew open, meeting Izuku's gaze. The sight that greeted her only managed to deepen her sorrow.
Izuku was attempting to smile, a brave but ultimately heartbreaking effort. He was trying to reassure her, to convey that he was holding on. His lips parted, wanting to speak, but the words refused to come.
Seeing his struggle to articulate his thoughts, Mitsuki pulled him into a tight embrace, cradling his small head against her shoulder as she wept. She wept for the boy who had been so deeply hurt, yet still tried to comfort her.
"M-Mom..." The word finally slipped from Izuku's lips, his voice barely a whisper. "H-How is she?"
Mitsuki gazed at Izuku, her eyes filled with unspeakable sorrow. She held him tighter, her resolve shattering as she felt Izuku go limp in her arms. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry," she repeated, her voice breaking with each word, unable to bear the weight of the truth.
"I promise you, I will make this right," Mitsuki declared, her voice steadfast with determination. "I will make sure you join us, that you become part of our family. Don't worry," she reassured him, feeling his head nod against her shoulder. Releasing him gently, she looked at him with unwavering resolve. "Just hold on a little longer. You'll be with us before you know it. Okay, sweetie?"
Izuku offered another nod, accompanied by a weak but earnest smile.
Mitsuki wiped away her tears with her sleeve, then stood up with renewed purpose. "Come, Masaru. We have a lot to do," she said, striding out of the room.
Masaru looked at Izuku with kindness in his eyes. "You're stronger than anyone your age, Izuku. Smiling when you're going through so much is really something special. You've got a big heart and so much empathy. Just like your mother. Never change, Izuku, never change. One day, I know everything will work out in the end," he said, offering a reassuring nod.
Izuku looked up at Masaru, his small face lighting up with a timid smile. Masaru nodded in acknowledgment and hurried from the room, keen to reunite with his wife waiting at the police station's exit. As they prepared to depart, they encountered two enigmatic figures—a woman and a man—dressed entirely in black. Masaru could clearly see the man's face, but the woman's features remained obscured, almost as if her visage was deliberately hidden. Was this some kind of quirk? It was possible, but with more pressing matters at hand, Masaru pushed the thought aside and followed his wife to the parking lot.
The President and Vice President of the HPSC lingered near the entrance of the police station. The President cast a quick glance back at the departing couple.
"Those were the Bakugos," Yukimiru offered, interpreting his superior's curious look. "They're Inko Midoriya's friends."
"I see," the President responded thoughtfully. "They must have been here for Izuku."
"Probably," Yukimiru agreed with a slight nod.
"Regardless, they can wait," the President stated firmly, striding towards the commissioner's office. "We have an appointment with Izuku."
Upon reaching the Police Commissioner's door, the HPSC leaders gave it a sharp knock.
"Come in," a voice called from inside.
The President and Vice President entered the office quietly. The Police Commissioner looked up, his expression changing to one of recognition. "Ah, the HPSC," he acknowledged.
The President confirmed with a nod, her arms folded confidently. "That's right."
The Commissioner had been engrossed in reviewing documents but set them aside. Leaning forward, he clasped his hands together and rested his chin on them. "How can I help you?" he asked. "Are you here for Izuku Midoriya?"
"Yes, we are," the President replied directly.
Standing up, the Commissioner motioned for them to follow. "This way, please," he guided. They stopped outside another room. "He's in there," the Commissioner said, offering a cautionary note, "Just a heads-up, he's been rather quiet."
Acknowledging with a nod, the President exchanged a meaningful glance with Yukimiru, who understood immediately. She then entered the room, her gaze quickly finding Izuku by his distinctive hair. Approaching, she towered over the small boy who sat motionless.
"Izuku Midoriya," she addressed him, her voice gentle and soothing, like a mother's touch.
Izuku, however, remained silent, his eyes fixed on the floor.
"I'm sorry about your mom, Izuku," the President offered, her voice softening further.
At this, Izuku flinched—a small but noticeable reaction. His small hands clenched into fists on his lap.
The President knelt on one knee, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I know this is really hard, Izuku," she spoke with genuine empathy. "Losing a mother is something no kid should have to go through. I promise you, on my honor, we will make sure justice is served for your mother."
Yet, the boy remained silent, his eyes welling up with unshed tears. The President understood his silence; Izuku wasn't ready to speak. But with the right words, she could begin to win his trust.
Releasing a sigh, the President continued, "I hate seeing you so sad, Izuku. You were such a happy kid before all this. Now, it's like you're a ghost of who you used to be." She let out a soft, regretful chuckle. "It's just the way the world is—cruel and unfair. Kids lose the people they love most, and no one seems to care. We need a hero to make things right, to create a safe place for everyone. But it looks like heroes aren't doing their job."
Most people would think it's wrong to say such things to a grieving child, but the President didn't care. Her determination was unwavering; she would do whatever it took to make Izuku seek revenge through her. She envisioned harnessing his pain and anger, shaping him into the kind of hero she wanted him to be. The idea of controlling someone as powerful as All Might stirred a silent, dark joy within her.
With one last reassuring touch on Izuku's shoulder, the President stood up. "I really shouldn't say this, but if you want to help find your mom's real killer, just let me know," she said softly, placing a business card with her contact information on the chair beside him. She then turned and left the room, her steps purposeful and determined.
Her plan was in motion; all she needed to do was wait for Izuku's response. If he didn't take the bait, she was ready to resort to Plan B—an option she hoped to avoid.
The following morning, the air in the Bakugo household was thick with tension. Mitsuki had spent the early hours trying to reach Child Welfare Services, dialing relentlessly since her return from the hospital around 2 a.m., with no luck. Masaru had finally managed to persuade her to step away from the phone and led her to their room, promising to handle the call in the morning.
When dawn broke, Mitsuki was back at the phone, waiting anxiously for a connection.
"Hello. CWS member, Yoru Kitagawa speaking," a smooth, feminine voice responded. "How may I assist you?"
"Hi, this is Mitsuki Bakugo," she said, her voice firm. "I need to file a complaint."
"Is this concerning your own child or someone else's, ma'am?"
"Someone else's. It's regarding my best friend, Inko Midoriya's son, Izuku Midoriya."
"I see. And what is the nature of your complaint?"
Mitsuki took a deep breath, her voice edged with frustration. "I'm having problems adopting Izuku, and it seems I've been blacklisted by your department for some unknown reasons. I need to know why and request to be removed from that list."
"Understood. Could you please provide your full name and social identity number?"
"Mitsuki Bakugo. 7453-1985-2247."
"One moment while I verify that," the voice on the other end said. After a pause, it returned. "Are you the mother of Katsuki Bakugo? With the social number 7467-2015-4787?"
"Yes, but why are you asking?" Mitsuki replied, her brow furrowing in confusion.
"It seems the reason for the blacklist is clear," the CWS representative explained. "As you know, Katsuki has been enrolled in rehabilitation under the Child Behavior Improvement Act I—CBIA-I—due to his behavior. Following a complaint from Mr. Eraserhead, multiple allegations of severe bullying by other parents were lodged against your son, and his record has been escalated to CBIA-II, a more stringent act. As a result, your family is barred from any form of adoption until Katsuki's behavior significantly improves."
"Wait a moment!" Mitsuki exclaimed, her voice rising. "We were never notified about this! When did this happen? Why weren't we informed?"
"We did send an official notice from the CWS directly to your address, ma'am."
"But... But we never received it!" Mitsuki insisted, her voice cracking with dismay. "I swear, we were never given any such notice."
"That's something you'll need to look into yourself," the representative said, her voice softening slightly. "It's possible someone at your residence might have received it."
"Please, please listen to me," Mitsuki begged, her voice trembling with desperation. "You must help me, Miss Kitagawa. My best friend... she passed away last night, and Izuku was placed in an orphanage. I promised her I would take care of him if anything happened. Please, you have to do something. I can't face her memory if I fail now."
The voice on the other end paused, as if the woman were considering her words carefully. "I understand your situation, Mrs. Bakugo," she said sympathetically. "But you must also understand ours. Katsuki was under CBIA-I specifically for bullying Izuku Midoriya. We believe it would be detrimental for both children to live under the same roof until Katsuki's behavior improves. We can't risk allowing them to meet, let alone live together."
Tears streamed down Mitsuki's face as she clung to a single tiny thread through desperation. "Can't you make an exception? I swear, I'll make sure Katsuki behaves. Please, let us adopt Izuku." Her voice broke with each word she spoke, the emotional trauma too much for her to bear.
"I'm sorry, ma'am. We can't make exceptions," the representative replied softly, her tone filled with regret but firm.
Mitsuki hung up the phone and collapsed onto the couch, her hands covering her face as she wept. She had failed again, unable to honor her promise to her dear friend. What kind of friend was she?
Masaru stood by helplessly, a silent witness to his wife's grief. No words of comfort seemed adequate in the face of such despair.
"FFFFFUUUUUCCCCCKKKKK!" Mitsuki's anguish burst out as she swept the items off the desk in a fit of rage. "Masaru! Did you see any notice?" she demanded, her eyes flashing with anger.
"No, dear," her husband replied, shaking his head. He knew the importance of this, but the truth was, he hadn't seen anything.
She slumped against the desk, her tears darkening the wood. The house echoed with the sound of heavy footsteps descending the stairs, and Katsuki Bakugo appeared, his face contorted with anger.
"Oi, old hag! Why the hell are you bawling so early in the morning?" Katsuki's voice was harsh, dripping with his usual contempt.
Masaru's anxiety spiked, a bead of sweat trickling down his brow. This was a dangerous moment. He caught Mitsuki's eye and flinched, knowing how close she was to a breakdown.
Rising slowly, Mitsuki was a shadow of despair, her eyes veiled by her tousled hair. She approached Katsuki, who recoiled at his mother's haunted appearance.
"Katsuki," Mitsuki began in a low, trembling voice, her eyes welling with tears. "Did you or did you not receive any letter from Child Welfare Services?"
"Huh!" Katsuki snapped, irritation evident in his tone. "What does it—"
"DID YOU or DID YOU NOT receive any letter from Child Welfare Services?" Mitsuki repeated, her voice rising with each word.
Katsuki gulped, fear finally gripping his heart. He glanced away, unable to meet his mother's eyes any longer. "I did," he admitted in a small voice, his defiance crumbling.
"And where is it?" Mitsuki's voice was steady but stern.
"I... I threw it away."
Without warning, Mitsuki's hand struck her son's face. The crack of flesh on flesh echoed through the room. Katsuki's hand drifted to his cheek, his eyes wide with shock and bewilderment. His mother had scolded, shouted, but never had she resorted to such raw, physical punishment.
Mitsuki dropped to her knees, seizing Katsuki's shoulders with a fierce grip. Her tearful eyes bored into his, revealing a vulnerability he had never witnessed before. "WHY!?" Mitsuki's voice was laden with desperation. "Why do you have to be like this!? WHY!? Why can't you be like Masaru!? Why do you have to have my defects!? WHY!?" Her words were punctuated by the shaking of her son, her grief and frustration pouring out in waves.
Masaru intervened, gently prying Mitsuki away from Katsuki. "Mitsuki!" he cried out, his voice trembling with concern. "Mitsuki, think about what you're saying! He is our child."
Mitsuki's gaze turned to Masaru, her eyes brimming with desperation, her voice ragged from her cries. "Why, Masaru? Why does it have to be this way? I'm barred from adopting my best friend's child because my son is LIKE ME! Why couldn't he take after you?" Her sobs were interspersed with hiccups, her body shaking with grief.
Masaru enveloped her in a comforting embrace, his hands drawing soothing circles on her back as she wept into his chest. All he could offer was a shoulder for her tears—a refuge in their shared sorrow.
"W-What do you mean adopt, De—Izuku?" Katsuki stammered, his voice trembling with fear. "H-Has something happened to Aunt Inko?"
Masaru exhaled deeply, unable to meet Katsuki's searching gaze. There was no gentle way to deliver the news. "Miss Midoriya... She... She passed away last night."
"W-What?" Katsuki's voice faltered, disbelief etched on his face. "W-What do you mean 'passed away'? That can't be true."
"An intruder broke into the Midoriyas' residence last night and attacked Inko," Masaru explained, his voice steady but filled with pain. "The medical team tried to save her, but... she had lost too much blood."
Katsuki's world shattered in an instant. It couldn't be real, could it? The thought of Aunt Inko, always so full of life, now gone, was inconceivable. He remembered her warmth, the homemade chocolate cookies she offered, the comfort she provided when he scraped his knees. Tears welled up in his eyes. "W-What about... Izuku? Is he okay?"
"No," Masaru responded, his tone laden with sorrow. "He's... not well. We had hoped to take him in... but it seems we've failed."
"Because...of me...?" Katsuki's whisper was barely audible, his right hand gripping the cloth over his chest as if trying to hold something precious that was slipping away.
Masaru hesitated, the weight of the truth heavy on his tongue. It was a harsh reality to convey, especially to one's own son—that his actions had inadvertently caused further suffering. Yet, it was a lesson Katsuki needed to learn. With a heavy heart, Masaru spoke the hard truth. "Yes."
On that day, the destinies of three individuals were irrevocably altered.
Izuku, who had lost his entire world in the span of a single night.
Mitsuki, who had to grapple with the loss of her closest friend and the crushing blow to her self-worth.
And Katsuki, who came to the stark realization that actions bear consequences.
The repercussions of these events would sculpt their futures in ways yet unknown. Whether for better or worse, only time would serve as the ultimate arbiter.
A week had passed in a blur for Mitsuki Bakugo. She stood at the living room window, watching as the rain poured down, as if the sky itself mourned Inko Midoriya's death. Today was the day of her funeral, a small gathering that Mitsuki had meticulously organized. She had reached out to old college friends; some agreed to come, while others claimed to be too busy, a thinly veiled excuse to avoid the somber occasion.
Inko's family was small. Her father had been an only child, and her mother's sisters had long since cut ties with her. Her husband had been an orphan. So, the guest list was short, something Mitsuki preferred. Only those who truly cared about Inko would be there, not those who showed up merely for appearance's sake.
"Mitsuki!" Her husband's voice echoed through the house.
Masaru entered the room, dressed in formal black and white attire. "It's time, Mitsuki," he said softly.
Mitsuki turned away from the window, dressed in her own black dress. She walked past her husband in silence, her eyes meeting Katsuki's as she reached the doorway.
Katsuki quickly looked away, intimidated by his mother's gaze. The past week had been tough on the entire family. Mitsuki's silence had unnerved Katsuki, who feared her simmering anger.
But then Katsuki felt a gentle touch on the back of his head.
"Let's go. We need to honor Inko," his mother said, her voice surprisingly gentle.
Katsuki nodded slowly, and the family left their home, getting into the car. They drove for half an hour before arriving at the Musutafu City cemetery.
Mitsuki stepped out of the car, noticing a police vehicle parked nearby. She assumed Izuku was inside. Shielding herself from the rain with an umbrella, she approached the officer's car. "Good afternoon, officer," she said.
The officer turned to her, recognition in his eyes. "You must be Mrs. Bakugo."
"Yes, that's correct," Mitsuki confirmed. "Is Izuku with you?"
"Yes, he is," the officer replied, opening the back door.
Mitsuki's gaze fell upon Izuku, a poignant reminder of where she had fallen short as a parent and friend. Izuku was dressed in mourning clothes, the picture of despair. No child should ever look like that. He climbed out of the car without a word, standing uncertainly in front of Mitsuki.
Mitsuki bent down slightly, mustering a tender smile. "Izuku, dear, how are you doing?"
Silence. A stark indication that the once lively boy might be forever changed by life's cruelties.
Mitsuki extended her hand. "Come, let's go inside," she said, waiting for Izuku to take her hand.
Izuku took her hand, and together they huddled under the umbrella, walking towards the cemetery. Suddenly, a black sedan pulled up to the cemetery entrance. Mitsuki paused, looking at it curiously.
Moments later, the sedan's door opened, revealing an ash-haired man with a disheveled appearance. He opened an umbrella and helped a brown-haired woman in glasses out of the car, shielding her from the rain.
The woman surveyed her surroundings, her gaze settling on Mitsuki and Izuku. Approaching with regal composure, she adjusted her glasses and inquired, "Are you Mitsuki Bakugo?"
"I am," Mitsuki confirmed.
"I am Inko's colleague," the woman said, her voice firm. "We spoke a few days ago."
"Miss Fumio, I presume?" Mitsuki recognized, bowing slightly in respect. "Your attendance is greatly appreciated."
"Inko was a beacon of kindness," Fumio stated, her voice heavy with loss. "A soul of pure grace. The world mourns the loss of such a kind person." Her gaze shifted to Izuku, who stood silently, his eyes downcast. "This must be Izuku Midoriya. Inko was very proud of him. She would never stop talking about him. He must be suffering."
"Yes," Mitsuki replied, her voice laced with sorrow. "He has barely spoken much since..." She trailed off.
"Understandable," Fumio commented, nodding sympathetically. "Shall we proceed?"
"Certainly," Mitsuki agreed, leading the way into the cemetery with Fumio following closely behind.
The ceremony unfolded with a somber elegance. Inko's body, draped in a traditional black kimono, lay peacefully within the wooden casket. The gathering was intimate, with only a handful of mourners present. Izuku stood close to Mitsuki, sheltered beneath her umbrella, while Katsuki stayed near his father under another. Some of Mitsuki's and Inko's college friends were there, a testament to enduring bonds. Fumio and her companion stood on the opposite side. Following the heartfelt eulogies, the casket was lowered into its final resting place.
Here Lies
INKO MIDORIYA
A Loving Mother, A Caring Friend, A Kind Companion
You will be Remembered
Rest In Peace
4th July, 21XX - 5th August, 21XX
Izuku stood before his mother's grave, his gaze fixed on the headstone, expression empty. Mitsuki, eyes welling with tears, stood beside him, offering the shelter of her umbrella. Fumio approached, holding her own umbrella. "Mrs. Bakugo, can I have a few word with Izuku?"
Mitsuki looked at her curiously, a hint of caution in her eyes. "May I ask why?"
"I held Inko in high regard," Fumio said, her voice steady. "Though our acquaintance was brief, I would like to give some more memories of hers to Izuku for him to remember."
After a moment's hesitation, Mitsuki nodded. She let Fumio take over with her umbrella and stepped back, keeping a watchful eye from a distance.
Ensuring their conversation remained private, Fumio addressed Izuku quietly. "You know who I am, don't you?"
Izuku nodded faintly, still silent.
"Your quirk is remarkable, I must say," Fumio, or the President of HPSC, commented. "Again, my deepest sympathies for your loss."
Izuku remained quiet.
"This world is cursed, isn't it?" the President said, her eyes sweeping over the rows of graves. "A harsh truth is buried here—so many lives lost because heroes failed to stop the villains because of their incompetencies. The society is starting to crumble. Villains keep getting stronger and more ruthless, while heroes are losing not just their power, but their spirit too. We need a symbol of hope to cut through this darkness. The public has no idea what's going on, but the truth will come out sooner or later. And when it does, all hell will break loose."
"What about All Might?" Izuku asked, his voice hollow. "He will protect us."
"Yes, he will," the President agreed, nodding. "But what happens when he retires or say... dies? His strength is legendary sure, but he is neither invincible nor eternal. His death is inevitable just like everyone else's. What then?"
"You think I can replace him?" Izuku questioned, his voice lacking emotion. "How could I possibly do that? No one can be All Might. He is the Symbol of Peace."
"That's where you're wrong, Izuku," the President countered confidently. "Your quirk places you among the elite already. With proper training, you could rival even the second-best. To surpass All Might, all you need is a noble heart and mastery of your quirk."
"And you plan to help me?" Izuku asked.
"Exactly," the President affirmed with a smile. "We aim for a brighter future, don't we?"
Izuku fell silent, deep in thought.
"You have my contact information," the President said. "Feel free to call anytime. I'll be waiting. Have a good day." She glanced at Mitsuki, signaling for her to return. As the blonde woman approached, the President nodded to Mitsuki and departed, leaving them alone.
Mitsuki turned to Izuku, her voice soft. "Are you ready to go, dear?"
Izuku nodded quietly. Mitsuki took his hand, guiding him toward the police vehicle, when suddenly, a shout echoed from where her son stood with his father.
"IZUKU!"
Mitsuki and Izuku stopped in their tracks. Izuku turned slowly to face Katsuki, whose eyes were swimming with tears.
"You idiot! Just hold on, you hear me!" Katsuki shouted, his voice thick with emotion. "I'll make everything alright, faster than you can even say 'All Might'—within a year! And then!" Tears fell from his eyes as he continued. "And then you'll come live with us, got it, you idiot! I won't let you drift away! You'll stay with us, and I'll be the friend you deserve! We'll get into U.A. together, you hear me! We'll become the best, you understand! We'll surpass All Might, just like we dreamed!"
Izuku looked at Katsuki, surprise giving way to a faint smile. He lifted his left hand, thumb extended upward, signaling his clear understanding.
The childhood friends parted ways—Izuku Midoriya along one path, Katsuki Bakugo along another. Uncertain of when their paths would cross again, they clung to the hope that both would rise to greatness.
Will this aspiration become reality, or will it remain a dream? Only time will tell.
A month later...
The President sifted through files of villains lurking in the shadows, but her thoughts were elsewhere, besieged by worries.
First, there was the doctor who had administered Izuku's quirk test. She couldn't be sure whether the doctor had disclosed Izuku's quirk to anyone, for that seemed the only plausible explanation for the attack on the Midoriyas and the attempted abduction of Izuku.
Moreover, the assailant appeared to know about the HPSC's involvement, as shown by the slain agent in the alley and the disappearance of the bait criminal on that fateful day.
If only the doctor were alive, she could have extracted the identity of the informant. Alas, that would have simplified everything.
Then there was her greatest concern: Izuku Midoriya.
A month had passed since Inko Midoriya's funeral, and she had expected a response from Izuku by now. She had imparted impactful words, aiming to resonate with his heroic spirit. Yet, perhaps she had erred. Maybe Izuku was too shell-shocked to comprehend her message, or he had chosen to disregard it altogether.
Such an outcome was unacceptable. Izuku Midoriya was, at present, the world's most invaluable asset, and she preferred him under her guidance rather than another's—a potential catastrophe in the making. She could not allow another to claim Izuku before her very eyes.
To draw Izuku to her side, she contemplated resorting to a more nefarious tactic, one that would invite universal disdain. Yet, the creed of sacrificing the few for the many's greater good was one she embraced with conviction.
She would go to any lengths to secure Izuku, even if it necessitated the annihilation of an entire city.
Suddenly, the telephone on her desk rang. She regarded it with a scowl. 'Who could it be?' she wondered. The number of individuals privy to her direct line was scant; even the Prime Minister lacked such access. A moment later, her eyes widened in realization, and she snatched up the receiver.
"Hello. Who is this?" inquired the President.
"H-Hello," a timid voice emerged from the other end. "I-Is this the HPSC President?"
Realization dawned on the President, igniting a surge of elation within her. A smile graced her lips. She might have just secured a treasure trove beneath everyone's gaze.
"Yes, Izuku. How may I assist you?" she inquired, her tone gentle.
"About the training... Uh... I hope I'm not too late, but is it... still uh...possible to get the training?"
"Are you certain about this, Izuku?" the President probed, her skepticism palpable. "I trust you've deliberated thoroughly. If you accept my proposal, challenges will only escalate from here on."
"Y-Yes, I've... A-And I want to help to create a better world," Izuku stammered.
"Very well, Izuku. I shall dispatch Yukimiru to retrieve you tomorrow. Is that agreeable?"
"O-Okay. Goodbye."
"Wishing you a pleasant day." With that, the President terminated the call. After a brief interlude, she erupted into unrestrained laughter, a cacophony tinged with madness and hubris. At last, her machinations were unfolding as intended, and her joy knew no bounds.
Resting her hand upon her face, she peered through the gaps between her fingers. It appeared that contingency plan B was superfluous. Fortuitously, a city's fate was spared—though such concerns were trivial to her.
The prospect of molding Izuku into her ideal soldier, under the guise of heroism, thrilled her. She would exploit his malleable nature, steering him towards her vision of a true hero. Izuku was, after all, a child—impressionable and eager. All she needed was to appeal to his innate heroism, and in time, she would wield the world's most formidable force within her grasp.
This was the epitome of perfection.
Precisely as she desired.
Next Chapter: Izuku in the HPSC...
Author's Post-Chapter comments
So, that happened.
I do not have any words of wisdom to share in this chapter. So, I will just leave like this.
Hopefully, you guys liked the chapter. Feel Free to leave a review to let me know.
See you in the next chapter of 'Beyond Limits – Izuku's Cursed Odyssey'.
Until then, bye bye.