Work Text:
Six-year-old Izuku Midoriya bit his lip and snuck a glance at the only other person riding the elevator. The white-haired teenager who’d saved his life, given him a quirk, and asked to be called “Uncle Yuuto.” It still seemed strange and hard to believe. But Izuku refused to go back to foster care, so he had to find way to make this work. He had to be good.
His hands clenched into fists. It wasn’t easy to “be good” when other children picked fights with him and the adults always blamed him for it. What if this turned out like his last home?
The elevator dinged and opened. Uncle Yuuto unlocked the apartment at the end of the hallway.
Izuku looked around. The studio room had no furniture or decorations. Just two futons lying on the stained carpet. Dust coated the kitchen counter.
“I know it’s not much.” Uncle Yuuto ran his hands through his shoulder-length white hair. “I didn’t have much time to prepare this place for you. I’ll make it better.” He sat down cross-legged on the floor. “Now that I’m raising you, what do I need to do?”
Izuku blinked. “Do?”
“Yeah. What kind of stuff do you need?”
An adult wouldn’t ask that question. Alas, his uncle barely seemed like an adult. Perhaps allowances had to be made given his new guardian was only eighteen years old. Izuku said, “You have to feed me and give me clothing.”
“Uh-huh. I can do that.” Uncle Yuuto actually took out a notepad and started writing this down. Izuku’s concerns intensified.
“You’re supposed to make me go to bed every night. You can’t leave me alone, not without finding another adult to look after me.”
Uncle Yuuto startled. “What, I can’t leave even when you’re asleep? Then how can I be a vigilante?”
“Even when I’m asleep. What if a fire or something similar happened while you were gone?”
Uncle Yuuto sighed. “I’ll look into babysitters.”
“You’re supposed to send me to school.” Izuku spoke with no enthusiasm. The worst bullying happened at school.
“Then you’ll need a fake identification.”
“Maybe you could homeschool me?”
Uncle Yuuto laughed. “Trust me, you don’t want that. I didn’t do very well in school.” He wrote in his notebook.
“You’re supposed to discipline me if I do something wrong.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And you have to give me three cookies with every single meal.” Izuku felt it worth a try.
Uncle Yuuto wrote this down. “Three…cookies…every…meal.”
Izuku gaped. Seeing his uncle’s gullibility, he felt a little bad. “That was a joke. You shouldn’t actually do that.”
Uncle Yuuto looked up. “Why not?”
Izuku shifted from foot to foot. “Mom said that if I ate too many cookies, I’d make myself sick.”
“Oh, that makes sense!” Uncle Yuuto spoke as he wrote. “Don’t feed him so much he gets sick. Got it.”
Izuku felt very uneasy about his future.
Uncle Yuuto looked up with a big grin. “First, would you like to go toy shopping?”
Excitement flickered in his heart. “We can?”
“We’ve got to fill out this barren space somehow.” Uncle Yuuto spread his arms wide. “I’ve made a big haul. I’ll buy you whatever you want.” He pulled over a backpack filled to the brim with bound currency. Some bills had dirt and suspicious red droplets. Izuku chose to ignore this in favor of obtaining toys.
Several hours later, they returned to the apartment burdened with bags overflowing with comic books, hero merchandise, and action figures.
Giggling, Izuku sat down on the floor and opened a book. He started to mumble, “I see Gasoline-man has developed a new power. Fire will go well with his—” Izuku clamped a hand over his mouth. “I’m sorry!” He glanced up to see if his uncle had noticed.
From the kitchen, Uncle Yuuto called, “What’s wrong?”
“Is it creepy when I mumble?”
“Not at all. I do it too, sometimes. Must be a family trait! The other kids used to bully me about it, so I completely understand. Then my older brother beat them mostly to death. I had to drop out of school while we hid from the police. Hisashi always did go to extremes.”
Izuku tried to figure out if that had been a joke. No other adult before had ever spoken to him so frankly about violence. They always tried to couch it in euphemisms.
Pots clanked. Uncle Yuuto asked, “What would you like for dinner?”
Izuku immediately said, “Katsudon.” It was his favorite food, and he hadn’t had it in ages. Not since Mom…well.
“I love katsudon! That’s my favorite meal.” Uncle Yuuto scratched his head. “It’s just, I have no idea how to make it.”
Izuku stared at him, resisting the urge to say anything.
Uncle Yuuto’s shoulders sagged. “I’ll learn how to cook. I promise. In the meantime…” He held up two packets of instant ramen. “Do you like beef or shrimp flavor?”
Izuku poked at his ramen with no real enthusiasm. The noodles were overcooked. There was no table. The two of them sat cross-legged on the kitchen floor. He asked, “Do we have any fruit or vegetable?”
“Sorry, I’m not fond of those so I didn’t buy them. What kinds of vegetables do you like?” Uncle Yuuto asked.
“It’s not that I like them.” Izuku frowned. “Mom always said I had to have a fruit and vegetable with every meal.”
“Oh, dear, more rules.” Uncle Yuuto took notes. “I’ll make a grocery trip tomorrow.” He coughed.
What started as a single cough turned into many coughs. “Are you all right?” Izuku asked. “Can I help?”
“I’m fine,” Uncle Yuuto wheezed. He pulled out an inhaler and breathed into it. As he bent over coughing, a white curtain of hair obscured his face. When he sat up straight, there were red drops on his sleeve. Blood.
An ember of fear ignited in Izuku’s heart. If Uncle Yuuto got sick, who would look after him? It was a selfish thought, and he resented himself for having it.
After dinner, Uncle Yuuto said, “I have a present for you.” He pulled out a picture of Inko Midoriya and placed it on top of a book. “I’ll purchase a proper shrine tomorrow.”
“Mom!” Izuku grabbed the picture and hugged it. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes. “Where did you get this?”
Shifting, Uncle Yuuto looked at the ceiling. “It belongs to you, right? So it definitely wasn’t stealing to take it. I returned it to its rightful owner.”
“Yes, absolutely,” Izuku said, clutching the picture tighter.
Izuku scrunched his eyes closed and tried to activate his new quirk. Nothing seemed to happen. He opened his eyes and stared at his extended arm. “I don’t see any green lightning, Uncle Yuuto.”
Uncle Yuuto suggested, “Try punching the air.”
Izuku swung back his arm and punched.
Sparks danced around his fingers. He went flying backward, crashing into the wall. “Ow,” he whimpered, rubbing the back of his head.
Uncle Yuuto screamed like a banshee. “Ambulance! I have to call an ambulance!” He dove for his phone. “Izuku, I still don’t have a fake ID, so they’re probably going to arrest me. Don’t worry, I’ll escape and come looking for you at the hospital.”
“No!” Izuku yanked the phone from his uncle’s hands. “Stop. You don’t have to call an ambulance. I’m fine.” He bent over to show his head. “It’s just a little bump. It’s not even bleeding.”
“Ah! You hurt your head! Your soft, fragile baby skull!” Uncle Yuuto wailed. “What do I do?”
“Calm down. It just needs a bit of ice.”
“I don’t have any ice packs.” Uncle Yuuto looked around as if expecting he might materialize one by wishing hard enough.
Patiently, Izuku said, “That’s fine. Can you put some ice cubes in a bag?”
“Oh, yeah!” Uncle Yuuto sprinted for the freezer. As he held the bag of ice to Izuku’s head, he whimpered, “My poor baby, are you in a lot of pain?”
“I barely bumped it. I’m fine. It doesn’t even hurt now.”
Uncle Yuuto clutched him tighter. “I’m so sorry! You can eat all the cookies you want tonight!”
Izuku shifted a little in the smothering grip. Honestly, Uncle Yuuto didn’t give off the feeling of a reliable adult like his mom. But at least he cared. That counted for a lot.
Dinner was takeout udon. Izuku took a long slurp. “Aren’t you going to have any?” he asked his uncle.
“I already ate,” Uncle Yuuto said. This was an obvious lie, since he’d been at home with Izuku all day. His smile looked strained.
As Izuku reached for an orange, his uncle’s stomach growled, loudly.
“You haven’t eaten,” Izuku said. “It’s not too late to call and place another order.” He reached for the phone.
“Wait.” Uncle Yuuto grabbed the phone. “I’m not hungry. I promise.” His stomach betrayed him with another gurgle.
“You can’t be dieting. You’re too skinny.” Izuku wrinkled up his nose. “Then…have we run out of money?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Uncle Yuuto said. Izuku was already running for the backpack.
There were no bills left inside. Izuku paled. “Why didn’t you say something? How could you let me buy so many toys?” He waved his hands over the stuffed bags of loot. “I don’t need all of these!” He felt stupid and selfish. Of course they didn’t have the money for hero merchandise if they were living in a small place like this. Because of him, his uncle didn’t even have the money to eat. Tears welled up. “I’m so sorry.”
“No, no, it’s not your fault!” Uncle Yuuto ran over and hugged him. “It’s mine. This happened because I’m hopeless with numbers. I thought I had so much money. Then the groceries cost more than I thought, and that nice lady I helped flee the yakuza needed more money, and I haven’t been able to pull another job because I need to find a babysitter for you…”
“So it’s still because of me.” Izuku started crying.
“Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.” Uncle Yuuto looked terrified. “I’ll get more money, even if it kills me.”
Izuku sobbed louder. He knew he was being a baby, but he couldn’t stop.
“I’m sorry! Tell me how to make you stop crying!” Uncle Yuuto burst into tears too.
The two of them clung together and sobbed.
“I miss Mom!” Izuku wailed.
“I’m sorry I complained about Hisashi so much! I had no idea what he was going through!” Uncle Yuuto cried. “Parenting is hard!”
Much later, they’d both exhausted themselves. Izuku shifted his uncle’s arm off his shoulder and went to the bags of toys.
“These are the toys I haven’t opened yet.” He made a pile. “And these, I think we can pass off as still new.” He made another pile. “First thing tomorrow morning, you’re going to the store to return these and get your money back.”
“But that’s your stuff,” Uncle Yuuto said. “I don’t want to make you give it up because of my mistakes. I’ll be fine, I skip meals all the time—”
Izuku glared. Uncle Yuuto’s mouth closed. Meekly, he said, “I’ll return the toys tomorrow.”
Uncle Yuuto held up a cooking book with one hand as he pressed a pork cutlet into breadcrumbs with the other hand. The open page showed a recipe for katsudon. He flipped the meat into the frying pan. “Izuku, which of these is the tablespoon again?”
“The biggest one.” Knowing his uncle didn’t do well with sizes, Izuku ran over to hold up the ring of measuring spoons. A kitchen towel had fallen right next gas burner. “Watch out!” he cried.
“What?” Uncle Yuuto turned around. The towel slipped and caught fire. “Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!” he howled as he ran for the fire extinguisher.
By the time the fire had been put out, Uncle Yuuto knelt panting on the floor. The counter was a mess of overturned flour and broken eggs. The pork cutlets in the frying pan had turned into charred black things drenched in water.
In a small voice, Uncle Yuuto asked, “Do you like pizza?”
Izuku put a hand on his uncle’s shoulder. “Pizza is great. Let’s order pizza.”
“That pizza sure was good,” Uncle Yuuto said with forced enthusiasm. After rubbing a bit of tomato sauce off his lip, he reached for a chocolate chip cookie.
Izuku slapped his hand. “No. You haven’t eaten any salad yet.”
Uncle Yuuto eyed the plastic bowl of salad. “Do I have to?”
“No cookies without eating your vegetable first.” Izuku pointed at the list of rules.
Inko’s picture had been placed in a proper Japanese shrine with an oak cabinet, golden gilding, and sticks of incense. A paper had been tapped to the wall next to shrine entitled “Inko Midoriya’s Rules of Parenting,” carefully transcribed by Yuuto at Izuku’s dictation. These were the unquestioned laws of the household.
“Fine.” Uncle Yuuto sighed, reaching for the salad.
Uncle Yuuto peeled off from a role of bills to pay the babysitter. She put on her coat and headed out the door.
From the bedroom doorway, Izuku watched with a frown. Something was off. His uncle leaned against the wall, face too pale. He held a hand to his side. Sweat dripped down his nose.
Spotting him, Uncle Yuuto asked, “Shouldn’t you be in bed?” Even his voice sounded weak.
Izuku ran over. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?” He spotted the bandages peeking out from the bottom of his uncle’s shirt. “Oh, no! We have to get you to a doctor.”
Uncle Yuuto slumped down the wall into a sitting position. “Can’t. I’m still a fugitive. It’ll be fine. I’ve lived through worse. Go back to bed.” As he pulled back his hand, his fingers showed a bit of blood leaking through the bandages.
Izuku couldn’t move. He was hyperventilating. All he could see was that blood. In his mind, the image in front of him melded with the memory of his mother lying on the sidewalk bleeding from a gunshot wound. Uncle Yuuto was going to die, just like how Mom had died. He burst into tears.
Uncle Yuuto pulled him into a hug. “Hey, it’s going to be all right. It really is just a scratch. Want me to take off the bandage and show you?” He winced as Izuku clutched him tighter and sobbed louder. “Okay, maybe that was a bad idea.”
After he’d finally tired himself out weeping, Izuku lay still. His uncle stroked his hair. He asked, “Is it my fault you have to go out and fight dangerous people for money?”
“Nonsense. This is my responsibility, as a hero.” Uncle Yuuto coughed. He pulled out his inhaler.
“You cough more often these days. Are you getting sicker? I thought you said your quirk cured—” Izuku froze.
Several puzzle pieces fell together in his mind. Uncle Yuuto had passed on One for All to him in order to cure him. Back at the hospital, Uncle Yuuto had said that his older brother had originally given him a quirk to help with his chronic condition. So if he’d lost his quirk—his illness was coming back?
“Is that why you got injured? Because you were too sick to fight? Is it my fault?” Izuku had trouble breathing. He’d cried so much his throat and eyes hurt, yet he felt more tears coming out.
“Nothing is your fault.” Uncle Yuuto put an arm around him. “I’ll be fine.”
He kept repeating that, but what if he wasn’t fine? What if he died and Izuku was all alone again? Why did everyone who looked after him keep dying?
Izuku wept harder. “Why would you give your quirk to me? You shouldn’t have done that!” He felt almost angry. “Why would you do something so stupid?”
“Because you’re my nephew, and you needed it,” Uncle Yuuto said.
“I’m just a strange kid you barely know.”
“No, you’re family. That’s the only reason I need.” Uncle Yuuto pulled him closer. “Listen, my brother was an asshole, but he always said that family needed to stick together.”
“What’s an asshole?” Izuku asked.
Uncle Yuuto winced. “Never mind. Forget that word.”
“Is it a bad word?”
“Look, will you let me finish or not? My brother might have been a meanie, but he always looked out for me when we were young, and I always looked out for him. You and me, we’re going to be a team. It will be the two of us against the world. No matter what life throws at us, we’ll figure it out together.”
Izuku considered this. “Together?”
“Yes.”
“Do you promise?” Izuku held out his pinky.
“Pinky-promise.” Uncle Yuuto shook, sealing the vow.
Uncle Yuuto carried out a pork cutlet sitting on a bed of egg and rice. “Katsudon is served!” He squirmed as Izuku took a bite. “How is it?”
It tasted a little dry and the eggs were runny, but that didn’t matter. Mom always said the most important ingredient was love. “It tastes perfect.” Izuku took another bite. “Isn’t it a little strange to have katsudon for breakfast, though?”
“Eh,” Uncle Yuuto said with a shrug. “It’s a treat for your first day at school.”
“Oh. School.” Izuku failed to muster any enthusiasm.
“Are you worried the other kids will pick on you again?” Uncle Yuuto leaned his chin on his hand. “If they do, let me know so I can come to school to beat them up.”
“You can’t do that!” Izuku cried.
“Why not?” Uncle Yuuto asked. “My big brother did it for me.”
“An older brother can do stuff like that. But you’re an adult. You can’t beat up first-graders.”
“You might have a point.” Uncle Yuuto pondered. “What do adults do?”
“My mom used to go talk to the teachers and the other parents,” Izuku said. Unfortunately, that had never worked. The other adults would make his mother cry, and then nothing would change.
Uncle Yuuto said, “Then let me know if anyone bullies you, and I’ll go beat their parents up.”
This didn’t sound quite right, but Izuku decided it was worth a try. “Thank you.”
“Anything for you, my dear nephew.” Uncle Yuuto beamed. “It’s us against the world.”
OMAKE TIME!
Omake: After Izuku’s Head Bump was Iced
Izuku: Strange how you don’t know anything about treating injuries. Surely it must have come up before in your hero career?
Yuuto: Whenever I get injured, I just ignore it until it heals or I die. One of those two things must happen eventually. Wait, sometimes my older brother would capture me while I was still weak and tie me to a bed until I recovered enough to bust out of his bank vault. One of those three things!
Izuku: …
Izuku: From what you’ve told me, this older brother of yours sounds quite interesting.
Yuuto: Interesting. Yeah, that’s one way of describing Hisashi.
Izuku: Tomorrow, we’re going shopping for a first aid kit. I expect you to use that from now.
Yuuto: Brilliant idea! You just keep getting smarter the longer I know you, kid.
Omake: Izuku Isn’t Always an Angel
Yuuto: Today’s self-defense lesson will focus on how to bite someone to death if your arms are disabled. Here’s the jugular vein, the most vulnerable point in the throat.
Izuku: I suspect you shouldn’t be teaching me this until I’m older than six.
Yuuto: But you’re not going to stop me, are you?
Izuku: Nah. I’ve always wanted to be feral.
Omake: Yuuto Likes to Tell His Nephew Embarrassing Childhood Stories
Izuku: Your older brother’s quirk sounds so cool. Please tell me more about it.
Yuuto: When Hisashi first got his ability, he didn’t realize he could give quirks as well as take them. So after he accidentally stole a mouse quirk, he spent an entire week one inch tall with big furry ears. I wish I still had the pictures.
Izuku: Ha, your brother always sounds like a bumbling idiot in your stories. He can’t have been much of threat as a villain.
Yuuto: …That’s completely correct! I kicked his ass on a regular basis.
Omake: Ironically, Izuku’s School Suspects His Uncle is a Villain
Yuuto: Excuse me? Are you Mr. Yamada? The father of a certain Asa Yamada?
Yamada: What do you want? Are you the worthless piece of trash who dared lodge a complaint about my son? Listen, I’ll have you know I’m one of the school’s biggest donors. Nothing is going to happen no matter what you do. Just keep your mouth shut, and I’ll pay the doctor’s bills for that Izuku brat. Judging from the state of your clothes, you can’t afford to turn down this generous offer.
Yuuto: You have me there! I’m as poor as I look. But I am rich in friends, and isn’t that what’s most important? (Yuuto’s friends appear around him. They’re fellow vigilantes, and many of them are mutants with so-called villainous quirks.) My buddies told me about the bribery you used to obtain your latest construction contract. Wouldn’t it be a shame if that information found its way to the police?
Yamada: P-please don’t hurt me.
Yuuto: Nonsense, we’re just having a polite conversation. Once your son transfers to a new school, you’ll never have to see me again. And trust me—you never want to see me again.
#Yuuto would be very indignant if he knew he’d been mistaken for a villain #He heroically took care of a bad guy using the power of friendship #Magical Thug Yuuto?
Omake Time: If Hisashi Was Forced to Read This
Hisashi: You didn’t even have furniture before you brought my son home?
Hisashi: Yuuto, you fool, buy vegetables, not hero merchandise!
Hisashi: YOU SPENT ALL YOUR MONEY IN A FEW DAYS?
Hisashi: Ahhhhhhhhhhhh! Call an ambulance!
Hisashi: Ahhhhhhhhhhhh! Call the fire department!
Hisashi: I can’t believe the six-year-old is the more mature one here. Yes, Yuuto, you should finally appreciate how difficult it was to raise you when I was just a child myself, you ungrateful brat.
Hisashi: You liar! I was stuck mouse-size for a day, not a week.
Hisashi: YUUTO SHIGARAKI, HOW DARE YOU TEACH MY SON TO SWEAR. INTO THE VAULT WITH YOU. VAULTS FOR EVERYONE!