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It happened while he was teaching, because his Problem Child has always had impeccable timing.
Smack dab in the middle of second period, hardly two hours after the start of the school day, his cell phone began to vibrate. It was sitting on his desk, face-down, and started to make an obnoxious thudding noise against the wood. His students immediately looked up from their exams, the silence making the noise of his phone vibrating deafening.
Shouta sighed, motioning for his class to continue their exams. They didn’t, of course, still watching him as he picked up his cell phone and checked the caller ID.
He was immediately concerned upon seeing Aldera Elementary School glaring up at him. Izuku had just transferred to Aldera a few months earlier, having troubles with his old school after his Quirkless diagnosis. He’d tried to hide from his father, but the very first day that Shouta noticed bruised knees and scraped hands, he’d weaseled the story from his son and marched down to the school that very day to have a stern word with the principal. Of course, that had helped nothing, because the world was full of Quirkist idiots, and so, Shouta had transferred Izuku schools and set Nedzu loose on the prior.
Overall, it had been only a few months since Izuku’s diagnosis, and things had been good. The six-year-old was making friends at school, something that had relieved Shouta to no end. He had been afraid his child was taking after him, what with how lonely Izuku always seemed to be, extroverted in ways but introverted where it mattered. But then Izuku had come home one day with a black eye and a missing tooth, looking the happiest he’d ever been. Shouta had nearly had a coronary, but- with the look on Izuku’s face when he told his Dad how he’d helped someone, he’d made a friend, he’d been a Hero- Shouta couldn’t be too angry.
So, yes, things had been going well. Which was why Shouta was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Hello, other shoe, he thought to himself as he walked towards the classroom door. He addressed his students over his shoulder, “I’ll be back momentarily. No cheating. I will know if you do.”
And because he knew this class wasn’t a class of cheaters- eavesdroppers, though, yes - he felt comfortable shutting the door behind himself as he entered the hallway. Taking a deep, grounding breath, Shouta glanced back down at his phone before answering it on the final ring.
“Aizawa Shouta.”
“Aizawa-san!” came the cheery reply. It was Ichikawa, the secretary. He was a gleeful young man who could give Emi a run for her money, always smiles and cheer and making Shouta utterly exhausted. Seriously, he and Ichikawa were the same age, so why did Shouta always feel ancient whenever Ichikawa spoke? “How are you doing today?”
“What’s wrong?” Shouta asked in lieu of a reply.
Ichikawa said nothing of it, just laughing before getting down to business. “Well, Aizawa-san, ah…” But then, he trailed off. It made Shouta pause. Was Ichikawa… nervous? Shouta had never heard the man hesitate like this. But the pause went on for too long, because Ichikawa cleared his throat and apologized before saying, “Aizawa-san, it would appear that Izuku… developed his Quirk today.”
Shouta froze.
Because that’s not possible.
Izuku was Quirkless. Double toe-joint, appendix, wisdom teeth, everything. He’d gotten the diagnosis only a few months earlier, just before he turned six. When the boy’s Quirk failed to come in at age four, Shouta had shrugged and said he was a late bloomer. Shouta himself didn’t develop his Quirk until age five, so he wasn’t concerned. Besides, Quirks weren’t everything, so why did it even matter?
But, as it appeared, it did matter to some people. It mattered to Izuku. And so, the child had begged his father to take him to a Quirk specialist to figure out what was going on. Shouta had been hesitant, for many reasons- some of them a bit projective- but eventually caved. The doctor had diagnosed Izuku the same day. The poor kid had been distraught. He’d sobbed the entire way home, even as Shouta tried to soothe him with murmurs and cuddles. Izuku hadn’t stopped crying until he fell asleep.
It was in that moment that Shouta had decided he would never let his son feel worthless. When everyone at Izuku’s first school found out about his diagnosis and the bullying started- and the principal did nothing to help- Shouta had found a different elementary school a little further from their apartment and enrolled Izuku there. And things had been good. Izuku had two friends: Shinso Hitoshi, a child who was even quieter than Izuku but just as determined, and the infamous Kacchan, Bakugou Katsuki, who had a temper worse than Shouta’s as a teenager just at six years old.
Izuku was growing.
Izuku was flourishing.
Shouta had never condemned his son for his diagnosis. Sure, he’d wanted other for Izuku, but he couldn’t wish for more. Because there was nothing inherently wrong with being Quirkless. But others didn’t see it that way. Shouta adored his son, no matter what, but knowing that others would condemn and hate Izuku for something outside of his control?
Shouta just wanted his son to be happy.
Developing a Quirk wasn’t inherently a bad thing, just like being Quirkless wasn’t. So… why did Shouta’s stomach clench so tightly?
Perhaps it was the way Ichikawa said, “You might want to get down here soon, Aizawa-san.”
Shouta verbalized his agreement, saying he’d be at the school as soon as possible. Not wanting to face his surely eavesdropping students, Shouta instead knocked on Vlad’s door. The man opened it, looking confused, but when Shouta said lowly, “I have to go pick up the Problem Child,” his eyes widened.
“Is everything alright?” Vlad asked, seeking to help and ignoring Shouta’s blatant distaste to it.
Shouta merely grunted back, not willing to answer and feed Vlad’s class more gossip. Their eyes were already wide and staring at Shouta, and murmurs had already started about whoever this ‘Problem Child’ was. Vlad turned around, yelling for his class to quiet, and then turned back to Shouta. “I’ll watch your hellions,” the Hero promised. “Go make sure he’s okay.”
Nodding his thanks, Shouta turned to leave, whipping his phone back out to write a short email to Nedzu- who likely already knew the situation and wouldn’t mind his absence- and then texted Hizashi that he needed to borrow the man’s car. Hizashi’s reply was instantaneous- clearly concerned as to why Shouta needed his car in the middle of the school day but always willing to help his best friend- and Shouta jogged, perhaps a bit faster than was considered “school-safe”, to the teacher’s lounge to snatch up Hizashi’s keys.
Getting to Aldera was easy. With it being before the lunch hour, there was next to no traffic. Shouta arrived at Aldera a mere fifteen minutes later. But oh, how his heart was thudding out of his chest for the entirety of that fifteen minutes.
When he finally arrived, it was the screaming that registered first.
It was Katsuki, screaming at the top of his little lungs. Mitsuki was there, holding her son tightly in her arms as she hissed for him to be quiet. Hitoshi’s mothers were there as well, trying to get Hitoshi to calm down. The poor child had also worked himself up into a rage and was shouting back at Katsuki. But Katsuki only had eyes for Izuku.
Izuku, who had snot and tears dripping down his face.
Izuku, who was hyperventilating so badly that he was turning blue.
Shouta immediately dropped to his knees in front of his son, shoving aside the frantic school nurse as he reached into his belt to pull out the emergency inhaler he always had on hand. “Breathe, kiddo,” Shouta encouraged the boy as he pressed it to Izuku’s mouth. The child did as instructed, chest still hitching as he tried to console himself. Shouta reached out for Izuku’s shoulder, but the child flinched backwards, away from the inhaler and his father.
Shouta’s heart dropped into his stomach.
Izuku had arrived in Shouta’s care when he was two years old, traumatized and abused and utterly silent. It took months of gaining the toddler’s trust to even be allowed to help feed him, much less cuddle or hold him. But Izuku hadn’t flinched away from his father since he was three.
A quick once-over of Izuku showed no apparent injuries, but Shouta would have Recovery Girl look the boy over after all of this was sorted out.
“Izuku?” Shouta spoke gently to the boy, quietly as he could without being drowned out by Katsuki’s and Hitoshi’s continued screams. “Kiddo, can you tell me what happened?”
Izuku whined, shaking his head frantically as his chest picked up hitching once more.
“He took my Quirk!” Katsuki screamed, stomping his feet as he ducked under Mitsuki’s arms to charge at Izuku. Shouta quickly moved to intercept the blonde, but the damage was done. Izuku cried out, falling backwards and- to everyone’s collective shock- expelling tiny fireworks from his palms in surprise. This seemed to only make his friend madder, though, as Katsuki began to sob, “Give it back, give it back, give it back-”
Shouta was quick in lifting Katsuki up by the back of his shirt and handing him over to his mother. “Izuku,” Shouta said his son’s name calmly as he lowered himself back to the ground, crouching and raising his hands placatingly. “Kiddo, I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”
What… the actual fuck?? Shouta thought as he walked his son through a breathing exercise, the faculty and other parents watching on with varying levels of concern. What even just happened...? And then, all the Quirk Theory that Nedzu had pounded into student-Shouta’s brain kicked in, and a hypothesis emerged. Inko’s Quirk was Attraction of Small Objects. Mine is Erasure. My Quirk works by hindering the Quirk factor in people, and if Izuku inherited a blend of those two… Shouta’s eyes widened a fraction, but he quickly schooled his expression. Can he… can he pull Quirk factors towards himself...?
“Kiddo, did you accidentally… borrow Katsuki’s Quirk?” Shouta asked quietly once Izuku’s breathing was under control.
Izuku shuddered but nodded. “It- it was an accident, D-Daddy,” the child whimpered, and Shouta’s heart broke for his little boy.
“I know, kiddo, I know,” Shouta reassured him. “Quirk activations are hardly on purpose, after all. But I think I can help.” With that, Shouta activated his own Quirk, hair floating and eyes turning red. His gaze was fixated on his son, though immediately after using Erasure, he heard Katsuki’s explosions behind him join in the myriad of screams still echoing through the room.
“Kats!” Mitsuki yelled at her son. “Your Quirk is back, so quit your whining!”
Katsuki’s shouts cut off, as did Hitoshi’s, though Shouta didn’t turn away from his son to see what they were doing now. Instead, Shouta opened his arms up to his child. The breath was nearly knocked from his lungs as Izuku charged forward, throwing his arms around his father’s neck as he sobbed into the man’s shoulder.
Shouta stood, taking his son into his arms and perching the child on his hip. Turning to the teachers and other parents, Shouta spoke lowly, almost in a growl, “I’m taking Izuku home.” And then, to the teachers, he snapped, “I’m expecting video camera footage and a full explanation in my email inbox by the morning.”
“Y-Yessir,” said the tepid homeroom teacher.
“O-Of course, Aizawa-san, not a problem!” agreed the principal.
Hitoshi’s mothers looked at Shouta with the same blend of sorrow and joy that Shouta himself was trying to squash down momentarily. He needed to compartmentalize- to prioritize.
And Izuku always took priority.
“Let us know if you need anything, Shouta,” Miwa said, Kasumi nodding her agreement. “We’ll tell you Hitoshi’s side of the story later.” Nodding to Izuku, who was trembling in his father’s grasp, Miwa continued, “You have other things to worry about right now.”
Shouta grunted his agreement, ruffling Hitoshi’s gravity-defying hair as he walked by the boy. Hitoshi grinned up at him, then paused at the sight of his friend. “A-Aizawa-san, is… is Izu gonna be okay?”
Shouta’s gaze softened as he nodded to Hitoshi. “He’ll be fine, kid. I’ll make sure of it.”
Passing by Mitsuki was a bit more tense. The woman nodded to Shouta, but- although Katsuki’s screams had stopped- she was still trying to get her son to calm down. Katsuki was grumbling, now, something about being the “best Pro Hero ever”, and Shouta knew that the boy’s therapist would be hearing about today much sooner rather than later.
It took another ten minutes to calm Izuku when they got to Hizashi’s car, the boy not wanting to sit in the backseat. He didn’t want to be torn away from his father, and it felt like a stab to the heart for Shouta to have to peel the boy’s arms off his neck to buckle him into his car seat.
Izuku was quiet on the drive home, the only noises coming from him being tiny hitches of breath and whimpers. In a way that was second nature, Shouta turned on Put Your Hands Up! reruns at a low volume, hoping Hizashi’s voice would be soothing to the child. It seemed to help some, but Shouta still kept a hand on the pocket with Izuku’s inhaler, just in case.
Arriving at home was utter relief. The cats immediately greeted them, Howl mewling loudly for attention while Yuki and Spork sat patiently by the genkan for them to take off their shoes. Izuku, still sniffling, immediately picked up Spork- a giant long-haired tabby that was nearly the same size as the child- and cuddled him close, stumbling over to the couch and clambering onto it. Spork settled in the boy’s lap, giving the back of his hand small sandpaper kisses as Izuku stroked his fur.
Shouta picked up Howl, if not just to shut him up, and carried him over to the couch as well, dumping the younger and skinnier black cat in Izuku’s lap as well. The little boy giggled wetly when Yuki- the fluffiest white cat Shouta had ever seen- also leaped up and effectively buried the child in a pile of fur. Shouta couldn’t help but smile gently at his son, ruffling Izuku’s hair as he made his way to the kitchen. And then, once he was alone, Shouta took a long, deep breath, eyes closing gently. Exhaling, his eyes slid open slowly, heavily.
There’s a journey ahead of us, kiddo, he thought.
People would judge Izuku’s Quirk. Judge him like Shouta had been judged. They would call him a villain, call him evil, and there was nothing Shouta could do aside from entire societal reform to change it.
“Damn it,” the man cursed under his breath, glancing over the bar to make sure Izuku couldn’t hear him. But the child was too busy giggling under a mass of fur as he tried to sit up properly to grab the TV remote. Another smile lifted the corners of Shouta’s lips, and he reminded himself that Izuku would have something that he didn’t have as a child.
A loving family and plenty of support.
If nothing else, he had Shouta. Izuku’s Dad would always be in his corner.
Going about making hot chocolate was a practiced motion. Even if it was only autumn, it was already getting chilly outside. Hot chocolate would be nice, especially since it was a comfort-drink for Izuku. Ever since the child had come into Shouta’s care, even as a toddler, hot chocolate was a standard for their household. Even if it had been more chocolate milk in those early days, it had progressed to marshmallows and chocolate drizzle soon after- something to get the child amped up on sugar so that he would sleep well later that night.
Once the hot chocolate was ready and served- Izuku giving his father a tiny “Thank you, Daddy,” that melted the man’s heart- Shouta set about making lunch. An easy meal of miso soup and rice sounded nice, and there was leftover chicken in the fridge from dinner the night before that Shouta reheated for a side of protein. After handing his son a plate and bowl, Shouta took a portion for himself and plopped down on the floor across from Izuku at the coffee table.
They ate in relative silence, the comfort of good food and good company washing over them like the filtered sunlight through their living room windows.
And then Izuku spoke.
“D-Daddy…?”
Shouta replied gently, hating the whimper that accompanied Izuku’s inquiry. “Yes, Sprout?”
“…Am I b-b-bad?”
Shouta’s heart nearly broke at that, and he immediately put down his utensils to go and sit next to Izuku, shoving the cats out of the way as he tugged the child into his lap. Izuku immediately cuddled into his father’s chest, sniffling once more as Shouta carded his fingers through the child’s curly hair.
“No, Izuku,” Shouta said emphatically, only to be cut off by his son.
“B-But- But my Quirk is s-s-stealing, and I’m b-b-bad-”
“No, Izuku,” Shouta said again, more strongly this time. “Izuku, am I bad?”
“N-No!” the little boy immediately protested. “Daddy’s Quirk is c-cool. And you’re a H-Hero!! The best Hero e-ever! B-But… But I’m j-just a d-deku…”
Although it warmed Shouta’s heart to hear his son praise him, the concerning statement immediately afterwards turned his chest ice-cold.
“Izuku, you are not a deku,” Shouta said seriously. Where in the hell did he even hear that word…? “And besides, if my Quirk makes other people’s Quirks go away, isn’t that bad?”
“N-No!”
“Then why would borrowing people’s Quirks be bad?”
Izuku paused for a moment before asking, “B-Borrowing?”
“Yeah, kiddo. If I used my Quirk on you and Katsuki got his Quirk back, that means it’s not permanent, right? So, you’re not stealing- you’re just borrowing.”
“O-Oh…” Izuku murmured back.
And then the mumbling started.
Shouta couldn’t help but smile at his son’s ramblings about his own Quirk, analyzing and theorizing even at an elementary level. It warmed his frozen chest right back up, hearing his son get excited about his own Quirk- even if it had taken a little cajoling to get him there. Izuku was mumbling on and on, his lunch half-eaten and cocoa half-drunk on the coffee table in front of him. Shouta had to gently nudge Howl aside so that the cat didn’t eat Izuku’s chicken.
“Why don’t we finish lunch, hm?” Shouta encouraged his son. “And then we can talk about experimenting, alright, Sprout?”
“O-Okay, Daddy!”
…
Through the blinds, Shouta watched as the sun set over the horizon. Izuku had long-since been in bed, having been utterly exhausted by his eventful day. After they ate lunch, the father-son duo experimented with Izuku’s Quirk. They discovered that Izuku could take and have Shouta’s Quirk for as long as he seemingly wanted. When Shouta asked, Izuku had replied that it felt less like he was holding onto his father’s Quirk- like how it felt for Shouta when he was erasing someone’s- and more like he had put the Quirk in his pocket. He knew it was there, and that it wasn’t originally his, but it wasn’t a bother or hinderance, which was definitely a mutative quality of the boy’s Quirk.
And wasn’t that weird to say.
Izuku’s Quirk.
Shouta was happy for his kid, he was, but he was still worried.
With a Quirk as powerful as Izuku’s- one that they still hadn’t thought up a name for- he would be a villain magnet. He was already in enough danger as it were, what with his father being an Underground Pro. If anyone discovered Eraserhead’s secret identity- if anyone figured out he had a son… Not to forget that the world wasn’t kind to those with “villainous” Quirks. Shouta had experienced it first-hand, and now his son would have yet another thing for other people to discriminate against him for, and that wasn’t even touching on the fact that the HPSC was corrupt as fuck, and if they found out about Izuku’s Quirk-
“Sho? Hey, hey, breathe, Shouta-”
“Zashi,” Shouta choked out, not having heard his friend enter the apartment past the sound of blood rushing through his ears. “Izuku- and I- and- fuck.”
“Hey, hey,” Hizashi crooned, crouching in front of Shouta and placing his hands firmly on the other man’s knees. “It’s alright. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out, okay? But for now, I need you to breathe for me, Shouta.”
Letting his eyes slip shut, Shouta inhaled through his nose slowly before exhaling shakily through his mouth. After a few more unsteady breaths, his mind felt calmer, and he was able to open his eyes. Hizashi was still there, his green and red eyes peering at Shouta nonjudgmentally, just like they always did.
Hizashi was there, just like he always was.
“Zashi-” Shouta started only for his friend to cut him off.
“Ah-ah, first, tea. Then we can talk.”
When Hizashi pulled out the chamomile tea instead of Shouta’s favored black, the man sighed. He must have looked as exhausted as he felt if Hizashi was punishing him with that. As he watched Hizashi go through the motions of making tea- putting the kettle on the stove, pouring the loose leaf into the diffuser, getting the mugs out- Shouta was set more at ease. He fell back against the couch, melting into it and allowing his eyes to flutter shut. A firm weight settled on his stomach, and he reached up to stroke Spork’s fur. The cat mewled, echoed by Yuki’s own meow as the other cat jumped up to perch on Shouta’s feet.
“Hey,” came a low, soothing call a few minutes later.
Shouta hummed in response.
Hizashi snorted lightly at his friend, ignoring Yuki’s yowl as he lifted Shouta’s feet to sit down next to his friend. Settling Shouta’s feet back down on his lap, Hizashi slurped at his tea while Shouta rested.
After a few more minutes, Shouta spoke.
“Thank you.”
“For the car?” Hizashi frowned. “You know you’re always welcome to use it.”
“Not that…”
“The tea? It’s your tea, Shouta, I just made it.”
“No, Zashi,” Shouta groaned, sitting up and dislodging Spork and Yuki as he shifted. Leaning over his knees, his face was mere inches away from Hizashi’s when he said, “For being here. For always being here.”
Hizashi’s eyes melted as he replied, “Oh, Sho-”
“I mean it. You’ve been there through all of it. When I took Izuku in, when he was diagnosed Quirkless, through the discrimination and the bullying and the… everything. And you never once thought about leaving.”
“I didn’t,” Hizashi agreed.
“…Why?”
“Why?” Hizashi chuckled, his tea mug making a light clicking noise as he set it down on the coffee table. “Shouta, you’re my… you’re my closest friend. We’ve been through so much together, and-”
“But I left you,” Shouta croaked out, eyes suddenly feeling far too dry. “Oboro died and I left you-”
“I thought we’d been over this already,” Hizashi frowned, turning to cup Shouta’s face in his hands. “Shouta, I don’t blame you. For any of it. For Oboro dying, for being depressed, for running off to do your own thing. I. Don’t. Blame. You. And, Shouta, Izuku is… he’s wonderful. Even in the terrible two’s, he was a freaking angel on Earth. Weird, considering he’s your spawn-” Hizashi laughed at the weak punch Shouta threw at his shoulder. “I love him. So, so much. And, Shouta, I…” Hizashi bit his lower lip, eyes burning like he wanted to say something but was stopping himself.
“What?” Shouta asked. “What, Hizashi?”
“I love you, Shouta.”
Breath catching in his throat, Shouta stared deep into his best friend’s eyes.
That… wasn’t the usual tone of voice Hizashi said those words in.
No, this tone of voice was… softer, more unsure, more raw and passionate and terrified all at once.
“Zashi, I-”
“Stop me if I’m wrong,” Hizashi said before quickly leaning forward to press his lips to Shouta’s.
And Shouta utterly bluescreened. His brain shut off completely, the only coherent thought flowing through his brain being Hizashi’s kissing me oh god what do I do Hizashi’s kissing me-
After a moment, Hizashi pulled away, looking abashed. “I’m sorry, I- I didn’t think through, did I? I shouldn’t have done that, not now- fuck, and I- I didn’t even know if you-”
“Shut up,” Shouta growled out, tangling one hand in Hizashi’s shirt collar and wrapping the other around his neck as he dragged the other man back in. Hizashi let loose a squeak, but quickly melted against Shouta’s body as his head tilted, their kiss deepening at the angle. A low groan resounded through the blonde’s throat when Shouta’s tongue pressed up against his lips, and somehow, Shouta found himself straddling his- what did he call Hizashi now? Surely this was no longer friend territory- straddling his Hizashi. Arms thrown around Hizashi’s shoulders, Shouta pantewd heavily into the other man’s mouth as he grinded his hips down.
“Oh, fuuuuuuck, Shouta-” Hizashi moaned. “That’s- fuck, that’s good- goooooooood morning, little one!” the blonde abruptly squealed, throwing Shouta off his lap and onto the floor. Shouta nearly started cursing the other man out before he realized his son was in the room.
Fuck, fuck, fuck-
“Hey, kiddo,” Shouta croaked, standing to walk over to his child. Izuku, bleary-eyed and holding his favorite blankie, merely raised his arms to be held. A smile broke out over Shouta’s face as he reached down to do just that.
When the man stood and turned, Izuku now perched on his hip, Hizashi was standing next to them. His neck and ears were still flushed a pretty pink, but he had fortunately thrown aside his awkward mask in order to greet Izuku.
“Daddy, why w-were you and Uncle Z-Zashi kissin’?” the little boy yawned.
In lieu of answering, Shouta instead suggested, “Izuku, why don’t you tell-” And, well, it would just be weird to call Hizashi ‘uncle’ now- “Zashi what happened today?”
Immediately wide awake, Izuku started kicking his little feet happily as he shrieked, “I got my Quirk!”
“You whAT-” Hizashi exclaimed, his own Quirk not being shut off by Shouta’s red eyes, but by Izuku’s. And, damn, Shouta had already seen what happened when Izuku used his Quirk, but it still sent a warm pride through his chest to watch his son’s eyes glowing brightly, the tips of his little curls float into the air as he reached a hand out towards Hizashi’s chest.
When Izuku giggled, it was super-powered, nearly shaking the walls of their apartment as he utilized Hizashi’s Quirk at the same time as Erasure. The blonde’s jaw wasn’t the only one dropped to the floor then, both mens’ eyes wide like saucers. Shouta looked down at his son in awe, utterly gobsmacked and so, so proud.
Izuku gave their Quirks back only a few moments later, still smiling and giggling and kicking his feet.
“Little one, that’s- that’s amazing! Oh my God, you’re so cool, Zu-chan!” Hizashi squealed as he scooped Izuku out of his father’s arms, raising the child into the air and swinging him round and round. Izuku’s mirthful laughter didn’t shake the walls this time, but it was still just as palpable in the air as he expelled every ounce of joy from his little lungs.
Shouta stood back, leaning against the wall as he watched his son and- partner?- begin to speak rapid-fire about experiments they could use to learn more about Izuku’s Quirk. Hizashi listened raptly as Izuku spoke a million miles an hour, nodding and giving his opinion attentively as he bounced the boy on his hip like he was still a toddler. Completely enraptured by the sight of them, Shouta rested his head against the wall and just appreciated what he had.
He had a beautiful, kind, brave son, and he had Hizashi- whatever he was or would be- who was compassionate, patient, and loving. Izuku’s squeals of happiness filled the air, a stark contrast to his terrified sobs from earlier that day, and those combined with Hizashi’s bright laughter filled the air, helping Shouta relax and breathe.
Quirks weren’t everything, and especially not what mattered. No, everything here and now, in Shouta’s living room.
This is what matters.
…