Work Text:
In the light of early noon, mid-July sunshine reflects warm shapes across the hardwood floor, illuminating dust particles floating in the air. Today was by no means anything more than an ordinary Tuesday; the neighborhood roads are just as quiet and calm, with birds singing off in the distance and their neighbor walking her dog around the block as she does every day around this time.
Today was by no means anything more than an ordinary Tuesday, yet Izuku couldn’t contain the stretch of lips in all its smiling glory as he sits bent over on the corner of his mattress, the breeze gently hitting his back while tying bows in his shoelaces.
July 14th is the date that stares back at him, the All Might calendar flexing its muscles against what was once a long time ago Toshinori’s guest bedroom wall. Mind you, the man was never fortunate enough for visitors at his apartment very often, let alone for long enough to spend a night or two. However, if that were suddenly the case now, Yagi would merely point them in the direction of his leather sofa and accommodate them with as many spare sheets and blankets he kept in the storage closet as they pleased.
His apartment went from housing one lonely, retired hero to becoming the home of father and son, and that’s the way it will stay for years to come. In the future, Midoriya will surely grow up and find a home of his own somewhere out in the world, but even after that day shall come, this bedroom will be his boy’s and his boy’s alone, no matter if he is sixteen or sixty. That’s the way it is and always will be so long as Toshinori is still alive and kicking to express that fact.
Midoriya’s signature red sneakers meet the floor as he rises to a stand, inhaling a deep breath through his nose while staring back at his reflection in the mirror. His face brims with pride and something a little softer, a little stickier around the eyes, but he composes himself enough to adjust the collar of his shirt. Deku isn’t really sure what sort of attire is required for an occasion such as this - he spent an hour before bed last night researching numerous questions on the internet - but he figured a little dressier than casual was the safest option to go with.
So now here he stands, black dress pants and one of his short-sleeved dress shirts in his favorite shade of red, unable to wipe the most priceless of expressions off his face, giddy smiles and sparkling eyes that stayed just a little wet.
He composed the nervous-but-excited jitters with a shake of his arms on his way to the bathroom, brushing his teeth in quick vigor before spitting in the sink. It’s been about three years now since he moved in with All Might, and even though Izuku is only one school year away from graduating at U.A., the boy knew he wasn’t moving out any time soon. This is home, after all, and it’s become just as special as the little place he grew up in with his mother.
For once in his life, Deku can truly, honestly say that he loved his life.
Coming down the stairs, he spots Toshinori standing in the kitchen, his lean figure pressed against the kitchen sink as he finishes his slice of toast. Izuku never really made much sound even with his sneakers on, but Toshinori’s sense of alert was something not even One for All could take from him; Izuku could so much as walk past his bedroom door in the middle of the night with a cough and the man will rise from REM like a zombie, those squinty eyes and scratchy voice just making sure Izuku is okay; “Yes, yes, I’m alright, Yagi, my throat is just a little dry, nothing to worry about.”
(The glass of water Toshinori appears with in the 60 seconds it took Izuku to pee was inevitable, but gratefully accepted with the smallest quirk of his lips all the same).
As soon as Toshinori's gaze finds him there, that loving smile of his reaching those bright, dark eyes of his to no required effort, Midoriya can do no more than return it in its entirety, his heart never failing to bloom with this warm, fuzzy feeling every time his mentor looked at him like this; like Izuku hung the moon and the stars, rising with the sun in the morning and painting his bluest skies.
“Good morning, my boy. Sleep ok?” He asks just as he always asks, now and every morning before and after.
“Yes, like a baby,” Izuku giggles with his usual beam, moving to join Toshinori in the kitchen as he folds his arms against the kitchen island, leaning his weight forward. “What about you? Were you able to get much rest?”
There’s a pause as Toshinori swallows the remainder of his coffee, placing the mug in the sink with a refreshed sigh falling from his lips.
“Oh, you know how this old man gets,” Yagi chuckles under his breath, turning to face his boy again. “I’m up at just about every hour of the night anyway, though I won’t lie that I was equally as nervous as I am excited for today.”
Deku breaks contact to smile down at the countertop, hand clenching into a loose fist to relieve some of his own nerves before feeling the touch of Toshinori’s much larger - and warmer - hand atop his own. Izuku looks him in the eye and breathes in deep as if on cue with the gentle motion of his father-figure's reassuring squeeze, unsurprised to find tears already brimming in not just his, but both their stares.
“It’s crazy to imagine, isn’t it?” Midoriya blinks back the tears with a tight smile, quick sniffles trying their hardest to contain the mushy feeling in his chest and throat. Yet despite all his strength and resistance, his voice cracks with the words, “In just a couple hours from now, I’m going to have your last name. I’m going to be your son, Yagi.”
The expression on Toshinori’s face mimics Deku’s much in the same, eyes just as heavy with his most happiest of tears while in witness of Izuku half-laughing and half-sobbing at the same time, wiping firmly under his eyes with the pads of scarred fingers.
Yagi can only bite his lip and nod, just as guilty for the stray droplets leaking from the corners of his own eyes. Toshinori might not be as much of a crybaby as his perfect protege who stands before him, crying his little heart and soul out, but by god did he do things to his own weak, little heart. Ever since getting on this crazy roller coaster with a child who was once so small and frail and oh so full of fear, Toshinori's tear sockets have spilled enough tears to make up for many years of being Japan's strength for a rather mighty bulk of his life.
Toshinori makes a single step forward to place both hands on either side of Izuku’s head, his heart oh so full of love for this kid he’s come to consider his own as wet green eyes gazed up to meet his. Deku may have spent most of his life already admiring All Might for the brave and unwavering hero that he was back in what's now already considered to be the past, as hard as that is to admit...
But all the same, Izuku can look at Toshinori Yagi with that same but new overwhelming sense of honor and admiration, but most of all a love that runs much deeper than watching one's idol on a screen and in tabloids.
And it's that, despite everything Midoriya has done for him, which makes Yagi feel most grateful of all; to still be considered so worthy and useful and sought for in moments of fear and tears and bad dreams for the protection and security Izuku has and always will find there in his arms, even when his once unbreakable hero should be reduced to a thin layer of flesh covering fragile bones.
“You’ve always been my boy, ‘Zuku, long before either you or I realized it. We’re connected by something far stronger than blood and destiny, remember? That’s something no document can ever give or take from us.”
Deku merely blubbers and nods his head frantically, face and lips drenched in a combination of his own snot and a steady stream of fat tears flooding like an irreparable dam.
Goodness, was his boy ever the ugly crier, Yagi could almost laugh; he wishes he could just squish those freckled cheeks and pepper his face in as many kisses as it took to get Izuku giggly and ticklish enough that he can’t breathe from laughter rather than the choke of sobs rattling against his chest.
To be able to wrap his arms around him in public and enthusiastically declare that this little kicker is the, lone and behold, Pro Hero Deku, top of his class at the most prestigious hero school in all of Japan and the next Symbol of Peace, but most of all, a kid with the proudest father this world has ever seen! Young Midoriya had best prepare himself for the most embarrassing displays of proud dad fiascos from his first and biggest fan, because Toshinori takes any given opportunity in his wake to praise that boy of his to the sun as is.
Izuku takes a single step forward to press his face against Yagi’s white dress shirt, the man not objecting one bit despite the wetness he can already feel soaking into his chest.
Instead, Toshinori holds his head impossibly closer to him as he feels strong arms wrap around his middle, snickering into a thick fluff of hair after sneaking a kiss to his son’s temple.
“In saying that, though, that doesn’t make me any less eager to snatch up that pen and make you legally mine, you hear me?! I might just walk out of there and start waving those adoption papers in the air like a flag if you can't stop me!”
Izuku’s own chuckle joins in par with his, gently rubbing his tear-stained cheek against his chest. He breathes in deep, holding the man's fragile body tight and secure in his arms all the while relishing in Yagi's warm, familiar scent of cologne and fresh laundry; the familiar scent he's come to associate as home. Izuku's voice is a calm, thick whisper, more than willing to sleep the early traces of noon away standing here just like this.
“Me too, Dad... Me too…”
The minutes drew by, but neither of them counted a single second. Toshinori was more than fine with just standing here, holding this most precious being in his arms as he hummed contentedly into his hair, swaying them both in his strong, protective hold. He'll relish in every moment that Izuku will stay this young, this small, despite all of the years he’s missed up to this point in time.
He can be damn sure that from here on out, he'll do everything within his power to ensure this beautiful, beautiful kid that just so happened to stumble into his life is safe, happy, and always with a warm meal on the table and a bed that's only his to come home to every single day for as long as he decides to.
But more important than anything else, Izuku will always know that he's loved, whether that be a kiss on the forehead before bed, a proud smile and the squeeze of a shoulder in pride of the wonderful mark he brings home from Present Mic's class, or even just the exchange of an 'I love you, kid' as they part ways for the next few hours in U.A.'s halls.
You know, there's this thought that used to keep him up at night, sometimes enough to even scare Toshinori out of a cold, sweaty nightmare. It often left him in a cold shiver, heart sinking into his gut at the prospect of Izuku’s real, actual dad returning to Japan on a whim one day, maintaining no more claim on this child than blood and a birth certificate. He’s laid on his back staring up at a dark ceiling on too many occasions with fear boiling in his stomach, fear that this stranger who gladly took no precedence in having this wonderful gift he brought into the world as part of his life would show up on his doorstep and take him away forever without retaining the littlest things Toshinori could so easily recite from memory; Izuku’s shoe size, underwear brand, the shampoo and protein bars he stocks up on just for him, or even his nail-biting habit and the way he can’t stand having too clean of a room or else it makes him feel uneasy.
Today, however, on the 14th of July, father and son will become just that: dad and boy as they always have been up to this very moment in time, clinging onto each other for dear life in the middle of the kitchen floor. Neither of them expect any changes in their dynamic to follow those two signatures when family is all the two of them have ever seen in each other these past few years, except now with security and a last name that'll connect them forever.