Chapter 15
To a Better Future
"All done," Recovery Girl announced, securing the last bit of bandage around Izuku's face. She leaned back, surveying her handiwork with a satisfied nod.
Nemuri bit her lip, torn between concern and laughter. Izuku looked like a mummy, his entire head swathed in bandages, save for his eyes and nose. It was a comical sight, but she couldn't help feeling a pang of sympathy for the kid.
"Do I really need all this?" Izuku asked, his voice muffled behind the thick layers.
"Absolutely," Recovery Girl replied, her tone brooking no argument.
"But—" Izuku started to protest, his voice weak.
"Am I the doctor here, or you?" Recovery Girl cut him off, her eyes narrowing.
Izuku sighed, defeated. "You are."
"Then let me do my job," she scolded, her voice firm. Izuku groaned in frustration, but Nemuri could see the fight draining out of him.
"So," Nemuri interjected before Recovery Girl could launch into another lecture, "is he good to go?"
"Yes, yes," Recovery Girl said, fixing her glasses and turning her chair to face the computer on her desk. Her fingers danced over the keyboard, and the printer whirred to life, spitting out a sheet of paper a second later. "I'll prescribe some painkillers, just in case he gets any headaches."
Recovery Girl handed the prescription to Nemuri, who scanned it briefly before tucking it away securely in her pocket. The medic swiveled her chair back to face Izuku, her expression turning serious.
"And you," she began, her voice stern, "make sure to steer clear of whatever landed you here in the first place."
Izuku nodded, his bandaged head bobbing slightly. "Um…" He hesitated, then paused, seemingly uncertain.
"Something on your mind?" Recovery Girl asked, her tone softening a bit.
Izuku fumbled for a moment before producing a notebook from who knows where. He flipped to a specific page and held it out to Recovery Girl. "Could you please sign this?" he asked, his voice tinged with hopefulness.
Recovery Girl raised a curious eyebrow but took the notebook without comment. "A fanboy, huh?" she commented lightly. As she glanced at the page and began reading its content, her eyes widened slightly. There were detailed notes about her, her quirk, and even a miniature drawing that was almost a perfect likeness. She blinked, studying the notes more closely, and felt a bead of sweat form on her brow as she realized just how accurate they were.
"A bit creepy though," she remarked, a hint of amusement in her voice as she scribbled her autograph on the page. She handed the notebook back to Izuku, who took it with a grin that was barely visible beneath the bandages.
Izuku clutched the notebook, his eyes shining with literal stars as he gazed at Recovery Girl's autograph. It was his first hero signature. He couldn't wait to fill the pages with more. Recovery Girl watched, bemused by the kid's boundless enthusiasm.
Nemuri rose from her seat, her voice soft as she called out, "Let's go, sweetie." Her words gently pulled Izuku back from his daydream.
He blinked, the stars fading from his eyes, and looked at Nemuri. With a nod, he hopped off the seat, eager to move. Nemuri turned to Recovery Girl, and she gazed at the medic with a grateful expression. "Thanks for patching him up," she said, bowing at the waist. Izuku mimicked the gesture, his bandaged head dipping low.
Recovery Girl waved a hand, dismissing the thanks. "It's all good. I'm just glad you finally decided to let go of that grudge and come here."
As Nemuri and Izuku stepped out of the hospital room, they were greeted by an unexpected sight—Nezu, casually strolling down the corridor on his routine rounds.
"Ah, Mr. Midoriya," Nezu began, his voice cheerful. "I see you're back on your feet. Excellent. And I also see that Recovery Girl had her way with you."
Izuku bowed deeply. "Thank you for your help, Principal Nezu." His voice was filled with genuine gratitude, his bandaged head bobbing in respect.
Nezu chuckled, a hearty sound that filled the corridor. "No need to thank me, young Midoriya. Truth be told, I owe you my gratitude." He gestured toward Nemuri with a paw. "Without you, Nemuri and I might never have started to mend our fences, right?" His eyes twinkled as he looked at Nemuri, awaiting her response.
Nemuri huffed, crossing her arms beneath her ample bust. "Not even close," she retorted, her voice sharp and laced with displeasure. "After that stunt you pulled in the office, we're far from reconciled."
Izuku hesitated before speaking up. "Well, I did try to warn you," he reminded her gently. He knew what had happened, having heard the story from Nemuri, and he felt a pang of sympathy for both of them. "So, I think you both share some blame here."
Nemuri's eyes narrowed, and she jabbed an accusatory finger at Nezu. "One night with him and you're already on his side?" she snapped. "What about all the nights we've spent together, huh?"
"Uhh…" Izuku stumbled over his words, unsure of how to respond. He decided discretion was the better part of valor and clammed up, wishing he'd kept his mouth shut from the start.
Nezu laughed again, a warm, infectious sound. "Ah, forgiveness is a journey, after all." He turned to Izuku, his expression thoughtful. "Mind if I ask you something, young Midoriya?"
Izuku nodded eagerly. "Of course, go ahead."
"Now that we know your true identity," Nezu began, cocking his head slightly, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. "Why did you turn yourself in?"
Izuku blinked, caught off guard. He hadn't expected the Principal to ask that of all things. He glanced at Nemuri, who looked just as curious, though her expression was tinged with sadness. Turning back to Nezu, he said softly, "I…" he released a deep breath, "wanted to atone for my sins."
Nezu's brow furrowed in confusion. "Sins?"
Izuku's face fell, a shadow passing over his features. "There's a lot of red on my ledger," he admitted, his voice heavy with regret. He shook his head slightly as if trying to dislodge a haunting image. "I've done things I'm not proud of, things I can't even say out loud."
Nezu hummed thoughtfully, his expression pensive. "It seems you took the easy way out," he commented abruptly.
"Nezu!" Nemuri exclaimed, outrage flashing in her eyes. How could he say something so insensitive...again?
"Easy…way…out…?" Izuku's voice dropped to a whisper, each word laced with raw emotion. "I gave up my dream of becoming a Hero to pay for my sins. Sins that I was manipulated to commit," he growled, enunciating each word with painful clarity. "And you tell me I took the easy way out."
"Just my two cents," Nezu said, strolling over to Izuku. He stopped a foot away, craning his neck to meet Izuku's fierce gaze with a warm smile. "But wouldn't it be better to atone for your sins by helping twice as many people as you've hurt? Food for thought, eh?" He shrugged nonchalantly.
He gave Izuku's leg a reassuring pat. "Have a good day, Mr. Midoriya." With a nod to Nemuri, he continued down the corridor, leaving the duo standing in stunned silence.
Nemuri watched Nezu's retreating figure, then turned to Izuku. The boy was rooted to the spot, eyes wide with shock. "You okay, sweetie?" she asked softly, her voice laced with concern. "Don't mind his words. He is insane like that."
Izuku started, blinking away his daze. He looked at Nemuri and managed a shaky nod. "Y—Yeah, I'm okay," he stammered, still reeling from Nezu's words.
Nemuri pressed a hand against Izuku's back, giving him a gentle and reassuring touch. "Come on," she urged, steering him toward the exit staircase. They were headed to the parking lot where her car waited. "Let's get us home."
"Sorry for making you worry," Izuku blurted out, shattering the silence that had filled the car as Nemuri navigated the bustling streets of Musutafu. His gaze was fixed on the passing scenery, the bandages he'd worn now discarded on the backseat. Nemuri had tried to protest their removal, but only briefly.
"You've got nothing to be sorry for," Nemuri replied, her voice a blend of softness and strength that seemed to meld perfectly with the hum of the engine.
Izuku's voice was heavy with regret, each word laced with a burden he couldn't shake. "But I do." He paused, his voice faltering as if he were teetering on the edge of revealing something monumental. "After everything you've done for me, I can't even share the truth about who I am or where I come from."
Nemuri's response was steady, a gentle yet firm reassurance that seemed to anchor him. "The only truth I need to know is that someone powerful manipulated you. The rest of your past doesn't matter to me. All that matters is that you're safe now."
Izuku turned to look at her, his eyes searching hers for any hint of deception or doubt. "But what about my sentencing? Aren't you even a little curious?"
Nemuri's grip on the steering wheel tightened, her knuckles paling to a ghostly white. She couldn't deny her curiosity, but the chaos of the past day had pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind. However, now that they were brought to the forefront with Izuku's sudden apology, her curiosity had also been reignited.
"Well," she began, exhaling slowly, a mixture of frustration and understanding in her voice. "I am curious. But you told me that it's the same person who helped you escape your sentencing was the one who manipulated you, right?"
Izuku nodded softly. "Yes, it was."
Nemuri pressed on, her voice a blend of concern and caution. "How powerful are they?"
Izuku's reply was soft, almost lost in the hum of the engine, like a secret whispered into the void. "Very." He turned back to the window, his reflection staring back at him.
Nemuri decided to let the matter drop, unwilling to cause Izuku any more pain. Neither had any idea just how far Izuku's restrictions went and what he could say and what he could not. There was no need to force Izuku to speak about a topic she had no interest in.
An hour later, they pulled up to Nemuri's apartment, which was surprisingly not far from U.A., especially with a car. They rode the elevator in silence, Nemuri unlocking her door and ushering Izuku inside. She followed him in, the door clicking shut behind her.
Izuku wandered into the living room, his steps hesitant as if he were walking on uncertain ground. He turned to face her, a small smile playing on his lips, a facade of confidence that didn't quite reach his eyes. "So, I guess I should get going," he said, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably.
Nemuri sucked a deep breath, her words catching in her throat like a lump she couldn't swallow. "I—" she started, but the sentence crumbled before it could take shape, leaving her standing there, feeling like a fool.
She watched in painful silence as Izuku headed to the guest room and a few seconds later walked out, balancing two worn-out cartons in his arms, the same ones he had brought with him the day before yesterday. Her entire body trembled, her heart aching and urging her to protest his departure. Come on, Nemuri, her heart pleaded, stop him, ask him to stay.
But no words came out of her mouth. It was like her lips were sealed by a deep-seated dread, a web of insecurities that ensnared her. In her mind, even after Nezu's comforting words, she couldn't find herself worthy of sheltering Izuku, much less providing the comforting presence he needed.
She wasn't the kind of person who could be an ideal parent. Hell, she could practically be considered a softcore porn actress masquerading as a heroine. Izuku was bound to be exposed to the darker aspects of her career, something she did not want him subjected to. He did not deserve to be raised in such an environment, especially after everything he had gone through.
"Hey," Izuku came forward, standing a few feet away from Nemuri, his arms laden with cartons. "Uh… I know, I'm asking for a lot… But can you please leave me at the closest orphanage?" he asked bluntly, his voice filled with resignation and forced nonchalance.
Nemuri winced visibly at the thought of Izuku living alone in an orphanage. The fact that the boy could even speak of something like that without any hesitation spoke volumes of his resilience and the hardships he'd endured.
"I—" Nemuri's breathing quickened as she tried to come to a decision. The dilemma tore at her heart: let Izuku go and allow him to live a life without ever making him aware of her career's darker side, but leaving him alone forever, or let him stay, give him a stable shelter and someone to call his own, but risking him finding about the darker side of her career.
"Miss Nemuri?" Izuku called, peering from the side of the stacked cartons with concern etched on his face. "Are you all right?"
Nemuri shut her eyes tight, her mind swirling with uncertainty. One single question repeated in her mind like a relentless drumbeat: what should she do? Sweat pooled on her forehead, her heart beating fast as her insecurities started eating at her again. To her, admitting Izuku to an orphanage seemed a much better choice. Suddenly, those vulnerable words spoken by Izuku echoed in her ears, amplifying her anguish.
"You won't betray me, right?"
And then, from out of nowhere, a soft, feminine voice whispered in her ears. "You will do fine."
The sudden voice caused Nemuri's eyes to snap open and she whirled her head around, her heart pounding in her chest. It felt like someone, a woman specifically, had just spoken to her from right beside her. She gulped, wondering where that mysterious voice had come from. Her mind raced as she tried to make sense of what had just happened.
"Miss Nemuri?" Izuku called again, pulling Nemuri from her trance. She blinked, her focus returning to the boy standing before her.
The woman faced Izuku, her decision finally made. She knelt before him and carefully took the cartons from his hands, placing them gently on the floor. With a determined fire in her eyes, she looked at the boy and said, "Izuku. I… I need to ask you something."
Izuku blinked, caught off guard by the sudden intensity in her voice. "Sure," he affirmed with a small shrug, trying to hide his confusion.
Gulping down her anxiety, Nemuri fired her question. "What do you think about me?"
Izuku suddenly felt a blush rise in his cheeks. Okay, he had not expected Nemuri to ask a question like that. His own feelings about Nemuri were unclear, confusing, and conflicting. "I think you're amazing," he said with a small, embarrassed voice, his eyes flickering away from hers as if afraid she might see the truth in them.
Nemuri licked her lips as now came the difficult part. "Izuku," she began, her voice shaky with nerves. "I—" She took a deep breath, feeling a knot of anxiety forming in her stomach. "I was wondering if..." She stopped, her determination suddenly faltering, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable.
"Yes?" Izuku urged quietly, his eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and concern.
"Uh… Well… I was… I was wondering if…" Nemuri licked her dry lips again, her heart pounding in her chest. "I mean… The guest room remains empty and I was thinking if…uh…ifyou'dliketotaketheroom." She said those last words way too quickly, the syllables tumbling out in a jumbled mess.
"Huh?" Izuku tilted his head in confusion, his brows furrowing as he tried to decipher what she had said. "I don't think I heard that correctly."
Nemuri released a deep breath, feeling her cheeks flush with embarrassment. "I was wondering if you'd like to take the guest room," she said, this time enunciating each word carefully.
Now, it was Izuku's turn to become speechless. He stared at Nemuri, his eyes wide and lips slightly parted, his mind racing to catch up with her words. When it finally did, his lips moved, and he stuttered, "A—Are you..."
"Listen," Nemuri began, slowly lowering herself to the floor, her legs folding beneath her as she sat down in the lotus position. She had to crane her neck to look up at Izuku, the action making her feel more vulnerable than she'd anticipated. "I understand if you don't want to," she said, the words coming out of her mouth with difficulty, each one tinged with regret and hope.
"I mean… I have a very poor reputation amongst the masses," she continued, her voice just a whisper. She tried to inject a bit of humor into her tone, but it fell flat, the weight of her past too heavy to ignore. "I'm not exactly the model parent material, you know."
She took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling with the effort. "I've done many things that go against societal norms. Not that I'm not proud of them, but one's past, especially someone as well-known as me, can't be so easily erased." Her voice grew stronger, and more determined as she looked Izuku directly in the eyes. "And to be honest, until I met you, I never thought I would get so attached to a child. But here we are, I guess."
Her gaze softened, and she continued, her voice filled with a mix of determination and vulnerability. "So, if you do decide to stay, then Izuku," she looked at him, her previous resolve returning full force. "I'm ready to change myself and my image."
Izuku stared in shock at Nemuri as she laid bare her feelings, her words hanging in the air between them like a tangible thing. After a few seconds of muted silence, his body began to tremble slightly, and he shook his head, his voice shaky as he responded, "I can't."
Nemuri felt her determination fizzle out again as she looked into Izuku's eyes, seeing them well up with tears. Her head fell in sadness, her eyes narrowing sorrowfully. She should have expected this. There was no place for Izuku in her life, not with the choices she had made. Even Izuku knew that. How could she have been so foolish to think that she could give him a home to call his own? She was no mother figure. She was just an explicit heroine with no shame.
"I can't force you to change yourself," Izuku elaborated, taking Nemuri by surprise.
The woman's head snapped up as she looked at Izuku, surprise evident in her eyes.
"Miss Nemuri, can I ask you something?" Izuku asked softly, the words coming out in a whisper.
Nemuri nodded quickly, urging him to ask his question.
"Did you ever regret how you acted as a heroine?" Izuku questioned, his gaze steady and searching.
"I—" Nemuri hesitated, averting her eyes, wondering how to answer those questions. She felt a knot form in her stomach, her mind racing with uncertainty.
"Please be truthful to me," Izuku urged, his voice filled with a quiet intensity that demanded honesty.
Taking a deep breath, Nemuri decided to answer truthfully. "No," she said, her voice steady but tinged with a sense of resigned acceptance. "I never regretted how I acted as a heroine. Not until I realized how it hindered me when you needed my help."
Izuku spoke gently, his eyes searching hers for any hint of doubt or uncertainty. "Would you try to do things differently if given the opportunity to?"
"I—I—" Nemuri repeated the question in her mind, her brows furrowing as she considered the implications of his words. "Yes, I would like to do things differently for you."
"Forget about me, for a second," Izuku said, taking Nemuri's hands in his own, the warmth of his palms a reassuring anchor. "Would you try to do things differently if you never met me?"
Nemuri's eyes drooped, and she glanced at the floor guiltily. "No," she answered, her words weighed with honesty and regret. "I wouldn't try to do anything differently."
"Then don't," Izuku said almost forcefully, his grip on her hands tightening slightly. He tried to comfort her and give her strength with his action. "I know about you more than you realize I do. I understand the implications of your career. I have seen many things, Miss Nemuri and you are saintly compared to the atrocities I have witnessed. Just because you're offering to let me live with you doesn't mean you have to change yourself, Miss Nemuri. I will never want you to change because of me. I don't want to constrain you like that. Not after everything you've done for me."
"But—" Nemuri tried to protest, but Izuku swiftly interrupted her, his voice firm.
"No buts, Miss Nemuri," Izuku said strongly, his brows knitting together in determination. "I don't want you to change. I like the way you are. I like the way Ms. Midnight is. I don't give a damn what the world or society thinks. Miss Nemuri, you don't realize. Despite you being," a blush rose up his cheeks as he pictured Nemuri in her Heroine persona, "being so...uh...well, explicit, you still saved me. It wasn't them who saved me. It was Ms. Midnight who did. And it is Miss Nemuri who's offering me a home, not them."
Nemuri could feel tears welling up in her eyes. This was the sweetest thing anyone had ever told her. This was the first time someone had genuinely accepted her for who she was—not rejected her and tried to change her. Her heart felt heavy from the realization that it was a child who, for the first time in her life, had truly accepted her for who she was.
"Miss Nemuri," Izuku called, giving her a determined look, his eyes shining with resolve. "I will only accept your offer if you promise me that you won't let my presence affect you in any way."
Nemuri nodded shakily, her tears now falling freely, tracing paths down her cheeks. She pulled him into a warm hug, cradling Izuku's head with her left hand. "Thank you," she said, her words trembling with emotions. "Thank you for accepting me."
Izuku smiled brightly, a few tears of his own falling. "Thank you for everything."
For both of them, it was the start of a new journey.
A journey to a better and happy future.
"I just have a small request," Izuku said, his chin still in the crook of Nemuri's neck.
"What is it?"
Izuku pulled himself away from the hug and glanced at Nemuri, his eyes drooping slightly in sadness. "I... I don't want you to adopt me."
Izuku's words made Nemuri blink, suddently taken off guard. Her eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. "Uh..." It was then she realized that it made sense. After everything that Izuku had gone through, he was probably shielding himself from another heartbreak. It was a most likely a defense mechanism. After being manipulated for so long, Izuku would want his freedom and not be tied to someone or something again.
A smile blossomed on Nemuri's face. "It's alright. I understand. We can live as roommates."
The next afternoon, Izuku and Nemuri navigated the teeming streets of Tokyo, their car cutting through the urban jungle. They were on their way back from a bustling clothing boutique, hoping to update Izuku's wardrobe, but neither had found anything to their liking.
"Can we go through Musutafu?" Izuku asked, gazing out of the windshield.
Nemuri tore her eyes from the road, glancing at him through the corner of her eye. "Want to see the U.A.?"
"Not exactly," Izuku replied, his voice laced with a somber quietness, a small smile gracing his face. "Though it would be nice to see it one day. Not today, though. I want to go to the Musutafu Cemetery."
"Oh…" Understanding dawned in Nemuri's eyes. She took the first crossroad she found and made a U-turn, the tires screeching softly against the asphalt.
Suddenly, Nemuri noticed a flower shop and decided to stop her car in front of it.
"Why are we stopping?" Izuku asked, giving Nemuri a puzzled look.
"Just wait here," she said, unbuckling her seat belt. "I'll be back in a minute, okay."
Izuku nodded and watched as Nemuri opened her door and stepped out of the car.
Nemuri walked up to the flower shop, greeting the seller with a smile. She bought a bouquet of lilies and returned to the car. Sliding back into the driver's seat, she extended the bouquet to Izuku. "I thought since we are visiting your mother, we could buy some flowers for her," she said gently.
Izuku took the flowers, his eyes welling up as he stared at them. "Lilies," he whispered. "They were her favorites."
Nemuri's smile widened as she took her seat and closed the car door. For the next half hour, they drove in relative silence, Izuku lost in his thoughts and Nemuri focused on the road.
Finally reaching their destination, Izuku and Nemuri stepped out of the car. "Maybe I should wait here," Nemuri suggested, wanting to give Izuku some privacy while he visited his mother's grave.
Izuku, however, shook his head. "No, please come with me."
"If that's what you want," Nemuri said, her voice warm. Soon, she was following Izuku as he made his way through the rows of graves.
Finally, Izuku stopped and turned towards one of the many graves. Nemuri stopped beside him, staring at the headstone, a sorrowful look appearing on her face.
Here Lies
INKO MIDORIYA
A Loving Mother, A Caring Friend, A Kind Companion
You will be Remembered
Rest In Peace
4th July, 24XX - 5th August, 24XX
Izuku gently placed the bouquet of lilies on the grave, then stood up straight. "Hey, Mom," he whispered, his voice soft yet filled with warmth. "Look whom I brought with me today." He gestured to Nemuri, who stood beside him. "This is Miss Nemuri. You know, Ms. Midnight. Uh… I know you might not approve of her, but Miss Nemuri—" Izuku's smile brightened, becoming almost radiant. "She's a really great person."
Nemuri felt a twinge of bittersweet amusement at Izuku's words. It was inevitable that a mother would not approve of her Hero Persona. No mother ever did, honestly.
"She bought you flowers, your favorites," Izuku continued, his voice steady yet filled with emotion. "I hope you like them. And… she has sort of adopted me—"
"We live as roommates," Nemuri interjected softly, as if speaking to someone who could hear her.
"Yeah, roommates," Izuku confirmed with a nod, a playful smile on his face. "I'm staying with her right now. And… I also wanted to say sorry." His voice dropped, laden with sorrow. "If it hadn't been for Miss Nemuri, I don't think I could have ever escaped that world and…" He sighed deeply, his sorrowful expression giving way to a renewed smile, an audible chirp in his voice. "But now it's all right. Miss Nemuri saved me and showed me the light. She reminded me why I was trying to be a Hero and that what I was doing wasn't right. She… She reminds me of you, yet she is so different."
Nemuri couldn't help but feel a swell of happiness at Izuku's words. Suddenly, she felt something warm on her left shoulder, as if someone had lightly touched her. She turned, her eyes scanning the space behind her. Finding no one there, she glanced at her shoulder, expecting to see an anomaly but finding none. Shrugging it off, she turned back to Izuku, her gaze filled with a mix of sadness and gratitude.
"Anyways, I just wanted to let you know that I'm all right, Mom," Izuku continued, his words flowing like a steady stream. "I won't be going out at night to be a vigilante anymore. I'll strive to be a better person, just like you wanted. I'll…" His smile never wavered, a beacon of hope. "And I'll try to smile even more now. So, watch over me, okay? I'll become the Greatest Hero there is."
With that, Izuku waved at his mother's grave, his hand lingering in the air for a moment. He and Nemuri turned and began to walk away, their footsteps echoing softly on the paved path.
Once they reached Nemuri's car, Izuku stopped causing Nemuri to halt as well. "Is everything all right?" she asked in concern.
"I want to visit a friend who lives here," Izuku informed.
"Want me to drop you there?" Nemuri asked, an eyebrow climbing up slightly.
Izuku shook his head, refusing her offer. "It's all right," he said. "I will get there by myself. I can also go home."
"All right," Nemuri nodded. There they parted ways, Nemuri returning home, and Izuku on his way.
Izuku stepped off the train, the doors hissing shut behind him as he filled his lungs with the crisp air of Musutafu. The station was abuzz with the hum of commuters, but he stood still, letting the familiarity of the place wash over him.
He walked through the streets, his gaze drifting over the shops and buildings that had once been his world. The prefecture had a life of its own, pulsating with energy, oblivious to the passage of time. Izuku had returned occasionally to visit his mother's grave, but he had never found the courage to venture further, to face the ghosts of his past that lingered in the shadows of Musutafu.
The Hero Public Safety Commission had taught him the value of letting go, of leaving the past where it belonged. They had tried molding him into something he was not. But as he stood there, the memories flooding back, he realized that some parts of the past couldn't be so easily dismissed. They were woven into the fabric of his being, defining him as surely as his quirk.
His feet carried him to the old apartment complex where he and his mother had once lived. Where that tragedy had befallen them. Where he had lost his mother. It was decrepit, worn down by time and neglect, but to Izuku, it looked like a sanctuary, a haven of warm memories. He stood before it, his heart aching with a mix of nostalgia and sorrow. He could almost see his mother, smiling, welcoming him home after a long day from the balcony. He could almost hear her laughter, echoing through the empty halls. Her voice seeking help when playing Hero-Hero with him echoed in his ears.
He lingered there, lost in thoughts, until the setting sun cast long, dancing shadows, nudging him out of his reverie. With a heavy heart, he turned away from the apartment and made his way towards Bakugo's house. The walk was shorter than he remembered, the distance eaten up by the weight of his thoughts.
He found himself standing before the familiar front gate, the sight of the house stirring a whirlwind of emotions within him. Apprehension gnawed at his insides; a cold dread that left him rooted to the spot. What was he gonna tell them when he finally came face to face with them? What was he gonna tell Aunt Mitsuki where he had been? Why had he not contacted them in all these five years? Bakugo was surely going to try to kill him for disappearing like this.
The house was quiet, almost eerily so, giving no hint of what lay within. Izuku's heart pounded in his chest, his palms slick with sweat.
Izuku took a deep breath and steeled himself, his heart pounding in his chest like a drum. He walked up to the front door, each step measured and deliberate. As he approached, memories flooded back: the countless times he had stood at this very doorstep. Now, he was here again, but the circumstances were different.
He raised his hand, hesitating for a moment before rapping his knuckles against the wooden door. The sound echoed through his mind, each knock carrying the weight of five years of silence and uncertainty. He stood there, waiting, his heart hammering in his ears, the seconds ticking away like an eternity.
Finally, after what felt like an interminable minute, Izuku heard the door unlocking. The metallic click reverberated through him, sending a jolt of anticipation and dread coursing through his veins. He braced himself, half-expecting to see Mitsuki's familiar face.
But as the door swung open, it was not Mitsuki who stood before him. Instead, a black-haired woman greeted him, her eyes questioning yet welcoming. She wore a simple sweater shirt and loose leggings, an air of casual comfort about her. She studied Izuku for a moment, her gaze lingering on the scars that marked his hands, faint recognition flickering in her eyes.
"Hello," she greeted, her voice soft yet firm, a hint of curiosity lacing her words. "How can I help you?"
Izuku blinked, taken aback by the unexpected sight of this stranger. For a moment, he was at a loss for words, his mind scrambling to make sense of the situation. He had prepared himself to face Mitsuki, to confront the questions and accusations that were sure to follow his sudden reappearance. But this... this was something entirely different.
"Um..." he began in a whisper. He cleared his throat, gathering his thoughts. "I'm sorry, I was expecting someone else. Is... is this the Bakugo residence?"
The woman's eyebrows furrowed slightly, a mixture of confusion and concern etching lines on her forehead. "No. Unfortunately not," she replied, her tone gentle, almost soothing. "But are you talking about the previous owners of this house?"
"Previous owners?" Izuku muttered under his breath unable to believe that the Bakugos could have left their precious home.
"Yes. They sold us the home for very cheap, to be honest," the woman said with a smile. "It's just me and my husband here now."
"D-Did they tell you where they went to?" Izuku asked. Maybe if he learned about their new location, he could visit them and ask them why they left in the first place.
"I am sorry, but I don't know." The woman answered sorrowfully.
"Oh. I see," Izuku said slowly. He released a sigh and shot the woman a smile that did not seem genuine. "I am sorry to disturb you at this hour. I will let you have your peace."
"No. No, it's all right."
A week had slipped by like the shadow of a cloud on a sunny day. Izuku found himself comfortably nestled in his new home, Nemuri's home—or Nem, as he'd taken to calling her. They had embarked on a whirlwind shopping spree, stocking up on brand new clothes for Izuku, and life had eased into a relaxed rhythm for both of them. They reveled in each other's company, often spending lazy afternoons lost in the flickering glow of the television until Nemuri's duties beckoned her away.
Nemuri trudged through the hallway of her apartment complex to her apartment, the weight of a long night of heroics dragging at her heels. It had been a chaotic day, to say the least. A group of reckless teenagers had somehow gotten their hands on a car and turned the city streets into their personal racetrack, leaving a trail of injured bystanders in their wake.
Thankfully, a team of Heroes—Nemuri included—along with the police had managed to halt their joyride before it spiraled further out of control. The parents of the wayward teens were summoned, informed of the mess their kids had made, and told to expect a court summons. They'd likely be hit with hefty medical bills and a year or so of community service to pay for their children's recklessness.
Nemuri shook her head, reflecting on the sheer stupidity of youth. But then again, who could cast the first stone? She had been just as reckless at that age, lost in the whirlwind of adolescence where common sense took a vacation. It made her wonder if some cosmic force temporarily stripped everyone of their better judgment during those teenage years.
Nemuri finally reached home. Slipping her key into the lock, she pushed open the front door and stepped inside, letting the warmth and familiarity of the place envelop her like a comforting embrace. Her night patrol was done, and another Hero would take the reins from here. Returning home after a grueling shift was her favorite part of the job.
Now, safely ensconced within her sanctuary, Nemuri stripped off the fur coat that layered over her Hero costume. She needed to wash up before crawling into bed. Izuku had a big day tomorrow, and she wanted to be there for him. Plus, she had to swing by U.A. to talk to Nezu. Tomorrow looked to be another whirlwind of a day, but she had faced them before and come out on top. And this time, she had someone by her side, someone who made her heart feel a lot less lonely in the world.
Nemuri draped her coat over the crook of her elbow and made her way toward her bedroom, eager to shed her Hero costume and fall into bed. But as she neared her room, she noticed Izuku sitting alone at the dining table, the room bathed in the muted glow of the moonlight filtering through the windows and ventilation. A glass of water sat untouched before him, his gaze fixed blankly on its surface. It was well past midnight, and she wondered what kept him awake at this hour. He should have been tucked in bed.
Approaching his still form, she called softly, "Sweetie, is everything all right?"
Her voice seemed to shake him from his stupor. He turned to face her, his eyes weary. Maybe it was the late hour, but she looked like an angel to him right now. "Oh... Nem," he said, fatigue lacing his voice. "You're back from your patrol. Did everything go okay?"
"Everything went fine on my side," she assured him with a warm smile. "What about you? Can't sleep?"
Izuku shook his head, sighing deeply in exhaustion. "Yeah... Nightmares," he admitted.
Nemuri pulled a chair up beside Izuku, her hand making soothing circles on his back. "How long have you been having these nightmares?" she asked, concern evident in her voice.
"A few times before," Izuku replied, his words slow and heavy with fatigue. "But they've been gone for a while, until tonight."
Nemuri leaned in closer, her voice gentle. "Do you want me to arrange a psychiatrist for you?"
"No, no," Izuku quickly dismissed the idea. "They'll go away again, just like they did before. It's probably just exhaustion."
"How long have you been awake?" Nemuri asked softly.
"About half an hour," Izuku said.
Nemuri offered a small, comforting smile. "If you'd like, you can sleep in my room tonight."
"I don't want to intrude," Izuku mumbled, a blush spreading across his cheeks.
Nemuri chuckled and ruffled his hair playfully. "There's nothing to intrude about, sweetie. Go to my room, and I'll join you after I freshen up, okay?"
Once she got a small nod from Izuku, Nemuri headed to the bathroom. After stripping off her nearly transparent fishnet leotard and pasties, which rendered her naked, she splashed her face with cool water, the sensation refreshing after a long night. She washed her hands and feet, deciding a full bath could wait until morning; she didn't want to risk catching a cold at this hour. She wrapped a fluffy towel around her body, the soft material hugging her curves, her breasts pressing against the towel's fabric.
Nemuri made her way back to her room. Normally, she slept in the nude, a habit she'd adopted after reading about the benefits of sleeping au naturel. It had worked wonders for her sleep. But with Izuku joining her tonight, she'd have to adjust her routine.
Entering her bedroom, she found Izuku perched on the edge of her bed. "You could have laid down," she said, heading to her closet.
Izuku turned to face her, a blush sweeping across his cheeks as he saw her clad in nothing but a towel. His view of her had shifted in a way he couldn't quite put his finger on.
Nemuri rummaged through her closet, choosing a white night robe with a delicate floral pattern. The fabric was slightly transparent—most of her clothes were—but the design worked well enough to conceal her intimate regions. She glanced over her shoulder at Izuku. "Mind turning around for a moment?" she asked.
Izuku nodded, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red. He turned to face the opposite wall, giving her the privacy she needed in her own space.
A few seconds later, Nemuri emerged, wrapped in a breathtaking white robe adorned with delicate flowery patterns. "Alright, scoot over," she said, motioning to the bed.
Izuku complied, shifting closer to the wall to make room for her. Nemuri slid in next to him, pulling him close and nestling his head against her soft chest. Her fingers gently ran through his hair, soothing him. "Now, get some sleep. You've got a big day tomorrow," she whispered.
Izuku nodded, his eyes fluttering closed. The warmth of Nemuri's embrace and the gentle rhythm of her heartbeat lulled him into a peaceful slumber.
The next morning found Izuku in a flurry, dragged along by Nemuri, who was clad in a casual business suit and skirt. Izuku was a picture of hurried elegance in his light grey shirt, dark blue blazer, a black necktie, and dark blue pants. He wolfed down bread with urgency, chasing it with gulps of orange juice to wash it all down. Meanwhile, Nemuri made a valiant effort to tame his wild curls, but to no avail—his green locks seemed to rebel against her every stroke.
They were running late. Izuku had overslept, and despite Nemuri's repeated attempts to stir him from his slumber, he remained stubbornly immobile. He had finally woken up a mere half an hour ago, leaving them in a mad rush.
"Come on, let's go," Nemuri urged from the doorway as Izuku fumbled with his shoes, trying to get them on in record time.
They burst out of the apartment, heading straight for the parking lot. Nemuri unlocked her car from a distance, allowing them to dive in without a moment's delay. In an instant, the car was tearing through Tokyo's streets, driven by a sense of urgency.
Their destination: Somei Private Academy.
It took them an hour to reach the school, but they arrived with five minutes to spare. Izuku hopped out of the car and was soon joined by Nemuri, who walked around to meet him.
"Do I really have to go to this school?" Izuku asked, his voice laced with disappointment and a hint of annoyance. "You could have enrolled me in a public school, you know."
Nemuri bent down to straighten Izuku's uniform, her hands brushing away any hint of disorder. "If you're worried about the cost, don't be," she said sternly. "I have more than enough for us. And I want the best for you."
"It's not about money," Izuku admitted, his cheeks flushing slightly. "I just don't want to turn into some uptight, snooty private academy kid."
"Watch your language," Nemuri scolded, her eyes narrowing. "And you won't become anything like that," she added, giving him a mischievous smile. "Because I'm here." She made one last futile attempt to tame his unruly hair before giving up with a sigh of exasperation.
She looked Izuku over carefully. "You have everything, right? Your school ID?"
"Yes," Izuku replied, holding up the ID card in his pocket.
"Your pencil box?"
"Taken."
"Books?"
"In the bag."
"Good." Nemuri's smile softened, her eyes warm with encouragement. "You remember what I told you about making friends?"
Izuku began counting off on his fingers, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Be careful who you choose, avoid troublemakers, and never insult your friends," he recited.
"That's right." Nemuri beamed, genuine happiness radiating from her. She gently placed her fingers on either side of Izuku's lips, lifting the corners into a smile. "Now, go in there, keep smiling, and make lots of friends, okay?"
"Yes!" Izuku gave a mock salute, then spun around and dashed through the school entrance, joining the throng of students flooding onto the campus. He abruptly halted mid-stride, pivoted on his heels, and raced back to Nemuri.
To Nemuri's surprise, Izuku enveloped her in a hug, his head reaching just below her chest. She returned the embrace, wrapping her slender arms around him. Izuku's grip tightened, holding onto her with a mix of gratitude and affection.
"Thank you," he murmured softly, his voice barely a whisper.
Nemuri leaned down and planted a soft kiss on Izuku's forehead. "Good luck," she wished, her voice a gentle caress. She stood there, watching as Izuku hurried into the campus with a wistful smile playing on her lips.
Something warm trickled down her cheek, prompting her to quickly wipe it away. She glanced at her fingers, seeing the glisten of tears. She hadn't realized she had started crying.
Brushing away the remaining moisture, she waited until Izuku disappeared into the school building before heading to her car. Just as she was about to get in, a soft breeze tickled her skin, and a whisper—definitely a woman's voice—whispered in her ear.
"Thank you."
Nemuri's head whipped around, her eyes wide in surprise. It was the second time she had heard the soft feminine voice and a shiver of unease crawled up her spine. Was she going crazy? Shaking off the unsettling feeling, she climbed into the driver's seat and steered the car back towards U.A.
Inside the school, Izuku was guided to his designated classroom by a teacher. They climbed three flights of stairs before stopping at a door. The teacher offered a brief "Good luck" before departing, leaving Izuku to face the moment alone.
Taking a deep breath, Izuku knocked tentatively on the door. A firm "Come in" echoed from within the classroom.
Another breath to steady himself, and Izuku slid the door open, stepping inside. Immediately, he felt the weight of every student's gaze lock onto him. The scrutiny was intense, but Izuku was no stranger to being watched. He kept his focus straight ahead, eyes fixed on the teacher at the front of the room.
The teacher was a middle-aged woman, her hair a blend of black and grey pulled into a high ponytail. She wore a crisp formal suit and skirt, exuding an air of authority. Rectangular glasses perched on her nose, which she adjusted as she turned to face Izuku.
"About time you showed up," the teacher said, her tone crisp and businesslike. "Good morning."
Izuku bowed deeply, showing respect. "Good morning, teacher."
"Call me Mrs. Hanekawa," she said, beckoning him forward with a wave of her hand. "Come up here."
Izuku strode to the front of the class, positioning himself next to her before turning to face his new classmates. The scrutiny of so many eyes was almost overwhelming, but he steeled himself.
"Class," Mrs. Hanekawa announced, her voice carrying through the room, "meet your new classmate." She looked at Izuku, giving him a slight nod. "Go ahead and introduce yourself."
Izuku gave a stiff nod and bowed respectfully to his peers. "Good morning," he began, flashing them a warm, friendly smile. "I am Izuku Midoriya. I love heroes and making notes about them, Miss Nemuri, and Katsudon. There's not much I dislike, to be honest." He paused, considering his words carefully. "As for my dream..." Another pause, his mind racing to find the right thing to say. "I don't have any specific dreams, but I want to help as many people as I can."
A girl shot her hand in the air, seeking permission to speak.
"Yes, Miss Hima?" the teacher acknowledged.
"Why do you wear glasses?" the girl asked, her voice filled with curiosity.
"My glasses?" Izuku mumbled, gesturing to the frames perched on his nose. He recalled Nemuri's advice to make a good impression. "I'm blind," he blurted out without hesitation.
A stunned hush fell over the classroom. Every pair of eyes, including the teacher's, widened in surprise. Instantly, Izuku realized his misstep. That wasn't the best icebreaker. He grinned nervously. "I was just kidding."
The teacher adjusted her glasses and fixed Izuku with a stern look. "I trust you won't be making such tasteless jokes for the rest of your years here with us, Mr. Midoriya?"
Izuku laughed awkwardly. "Yes, ma'am. I'll do my best."
He snuck a glance at the class, groaning internally. Starting off on the wrong foot wasn't ideal. His new classmates whispered among themselves, casting him odd looks. He'd certainly made an impression—just not the one he was aiming for. It had been a terrible idea to joke about his glasses.
With a nod, the teacher gestured towards an empty seat beside a blue-haired, glasses-wearing boy. "Please take the empty seat next to Mr. Iida."
Izuku walked over to the empty seat, placing his bag on the desk. From the corner of his eye, he noticed the blue-haired boy staring at him intently. "Uh… Something on your mind?" he asked, his voice cautious.
"I must ask that you refrain from making such insensitive jokes in the future, Mr. Midoriya," the blue-haired boy said sternly.
Izuku nodded, keeping his expression neutral. Inside, though, he was dying a little. This was going to be a long six years, wasn't it?
"By the way," the blue-haired boy continued, "My name is Tenya Iida. I would like to say it is a pleasure to meet you but here we are I guess."
Yeah, it was going to be a very, very long six years.
"Ah, Nemuri," Nezu said, looking up as Nemuri sauntered into his office. Her steps carried a newfound confidence that he had never seen before, her high heels clicking rhythmically against the floor. She was dressed in a casual business suit and skirt, her Kamina glasses perched on her nose. "You're finally here."
Nemuri took the empty chair before Nezu's desk, crossing her legs with an air of casual elegance. Her skirt rose just enough to give a hint of her soft, supple and thick thighs. "Good morning, Nezu," she said, her voice smooth and level.
Nezu's face split into a broad smile. "Congratulations on adopting Mr. Midoriya," he offered, his eyes sparkling with genuine warmth.
A faint blush tinged Nemuri's cheeks. "I haven't adopted him, per se," she corrected gently. "He lives with me. We're like roommates. And honestly, after seeing what he is capable of doing, it's a bit difficult to treat him like a vulnerable child. Heck, sometimes I forget he's just a kid, you know."
Nezu's expression shifted, a thoughtful nod replacing his initial surprise. "I see," he murmured. "Understandable, considering his upbringing. He might even benefit from not being officially adopted. After being confined for so long, he'll want his freedom. So, where is he now?"
"At Somei," Nemuri replied, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Thanks for getting him in at such short notice, by the way."
Nezu waved his hand dismissively. "It's all right. It was the least I could do." His eyes narrowed slightly, curiosity flickering in them. "So, how can I help you? You requested this meeting quite suddenly. Has Mr. Midoriya shared something important?"
Nemuri shook her head, her smile fading. "No, nothing like that. I haven't asked him to talk about his past at all."
"Probably for the best," Nezu said, nodding thoughtfully. "So, what brings you here today then?"
Nemuri hesitated, her voice dropping as she considered her words carefully. "I was wondering… is the offer for a teacher's post still open?"
Nezu's eyes widened in surprise. "You want to teach at U.A.?"
Nemuri's eyebrows drew together in a puzzled frown. "Why? Is that an issue?"
"No, not at all," Nezu replied quickly, realizing his blunder. "Is this because of the job letter I sent through Hizashi?"
"Aizawa gave me the letter," Nemuri explained. "Ah~ Hizashi must have passed it to Aizawa."
"I see," Nezu muttered, before focusing his gaze back on Nemuri. "So, what prompted this change of heart?"
"Well," Nemuri's gaze flicked away, a hint of softness in her voice, "now that Izuku is staying with me, I'd like to be a positive influence on him." After seeing the amused twinkle in Nezu's eyes, she grinned sheepishly. "As much as I can be I mean. He wants to become a Hero, and U.A. is his ultimate goal. I want to be here for him."
Nezu leaned forward, his eyes searching hers. "So, you're considering this job because of Mr. Midoriya?"
Nemuri nodded, her eyes meeting his. "Yes, but it's more than that. I want to try my hand at teaching, expand my horizons a bit. And with all the youthful energy around here," a playful smirk appeared on her face, "I might just be useful."
"Ah!" Nezu shook his head, chuckling. "I expected as much." He flashed her a bright smile. "Consider yourself a faculty member, effective immediately. Welcome to U.A., Ms. Midnight."
"Wait!" Nemuri's eyes widened in surprise. "Just like that? I haven't even applied to change my rating to a more acceptable one."
"You don't need to," Nezu assured her, waving his hand casually.
"But I thought that was a requirement," Nemuri muttered, confusion wrinkling her brow.
"It's just for appearances," Nezu said, his words relaxed, as if discussing the day's weather. "U.A. operates on my terms. Besides, everyone here are Heroes in training. Can't expect them to not run into some form of seductive villain. It is for the best they get accustomed to seduction here at U.A., than on the battlefield someday."
Nemuri raised an eyebrow, a hint of concern in her voice. "If you think it's best. Just don't get yourself into trouble."
Nezu leaned back in his chair, his smile reassuring. "Leave that to me. You just start preparing for your teaching duties beginning next week."
A quiet sigh of relief escaped Nemuri. In a way, she was glad that she did not have to change her rating. The process was one hectic mess of paperwork and appointments.
Nezu shrugged, a touch of disappointment in his expression. "Speaking of which, I sent a job letter to Aizawa as well. He hasn't agreed to teach here yet. Maybe you could have a word with him?"
Nemuri's lips pressed into a thin line. "I'll try," she said, her voice lacking conviction. "But you know Aizawa. He has a... unique disdain for everyone."
"Exactly why I need him here," Nezu admitted with a wry smile. "Sometimes, students need a stern hand to keep them on track when they fall short."
Unfortunately, their conversation came to a halt when a knock echoed through Nezu's office door. "Come in," he called out.
The door slid open, and in stepped Recovery Girl. She shut the door behind her, her gaze landing squarely on Nemuri. "Ah, Nemuri, you're here. Perfect timing. I was about to call you anyway."
Nezu glanced at the medic. "Is something wrong?"
"I've got the medical reports on Mr. Midoriya," Recovery Girl announced, placing a folder on Nezu's desk with a decisive thud.
Nezu's brows raised inquisitively. "So, what's the verdict?" Nemuri remained silent, equal amounts of anxiety and curiosity swirling within her.
Recovery Girl's tone was calm as she delivered her findings. "There's no problem with Mr. Midoriya's quirk. Actually, his body is incredibly resilient because of his quirks."
Nezu blinked, his surprise mirrored on Nemuri's face.
"Quirks?" Nemuri murmured, bewilderment etched in her voice.
Recovery Girl's expression turned serious. "The readings suggest that Mr. Midoriya has at least three quirks."
"Three quirks?" Nezu muttered, his voice tinged with disbelief, his eyebrows shooting up and his eyes widening in surprise."But… isn't that impossible? I mean two quirks is the most any person has ever been born with."
"It should be," Recovery Girl murmured, a trace of uncertainty in her voice. She shrugged slightly. "But it appears it wasn't as far-fetched as we assumed. I'd like to run more tests, but I also don't want to end up traumatizing the kid."
"What about his bleeding?" Nemuri asked, her voice laced with concern.
"That's the curious part," Recovery Girl explained. "There's nothing physically wrong with Mr. Midoriya. His quirks are completely compatible with his body, and he's surprisingly healthy for an orphan boy his age."
"So…" Nezu mused quietly, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "It seems the bleeding Mr. Midoriya experienced was triggered by an external factor…" He mentally explored the possibilities, but this one seemed the most plausible; and the most troubling. "That's not good."
"Now that I think about it," Nemuri suddenly interjected, recalling a recent incident. "There was another incident that made no sense to me."
Nezu and Recovery Girl turned to face her, their attention fully captured.
"There was this strange incident when I caught the leader of the gang distributing Quirk-Enhancing drugs," Nemuri recalled, a shadow of worry settling on her face. "After Izuku and I defeated him, the leader's head popped like a balloon. The weird thing is, there was no one else around, at least as far as I could tell."
Nezu's gaze remained fixed on the file Recovery Girl had handed him. This whole situation was deeply troubling. He had suspects in mind, but there was no concrete evidence to pinpoint them. His suspicions were grounded on the fact that only a select few were powerful enough to commit such atrocities.
"Do you have any idea?" Nemuri asked, her concern evident.
"No," Nezu admitted. "Unfortunately, I don't." He looked up from the file, his eyes meeting Nemuri's with a determined stare. "One thing is clear, though. We're dealing with someone far from ordinary." He paused, letting the gravity of his words sink in. "And we need to be prepared."
Next Chapter: Izuku gets the first spotlight.
Author's Post-Chapter Comment:
I would like to apologize to my readers for messing up the timeline. It is an AU but I always thought that Ms. Midnight started teaching later than Eraser Head; until I was proven wrong. I tried to do some damage control in this chapter. Hopefully, this detail does not irritate you guys, and you can forgive me for this blunder. It was a big blunder on my part for allowing such a problem to exist in my story.
With that, I will like to sign off.
If you like the chapter, let me know in the comments/reviews.
Until the next chapter.
Bye bye.
