Chapter Text
A coup d'état is the sudden, illegal seizure of power from a government, typically by a small group, such as the military or political elites.
Sensei had drilled this into Tomura’s head from a young age even before they’d left their previous lives behind.
At the time he had thought his master was overzealous, perhaps too cocky but now things seemed incredibly attainable.
Yes, it would be a lot of work to get to where they needed to be but the goals were the same as always, absolutely within his grasp if the League did their job right.
He couldn’t remember much about Inko but he can still recall a time when he and All For One would scurry around the small but homey apartment, hiding their lessons from Izuku and his mother.
Leaving his brother had been painful, entirely nerve-wracking and Sensei had had to mess with his memories as well to prevent him from going back and bringing Izuku along with them.
Kurogiri had been splendid company but his brother resided in the back of his mind, just like Hana and Mon-chan did.
Completely unable to wholly forget their very existence.
Carrying out the plans that had been set in stone years ago was thrilling and now that Hisashi couldn’t use the excuse that Izuku’s quirklessness was what made him unable to accompany them in their quest endeavors was almost like a dream come through.
Or was it?
Izuku’s favorite device was by far his burner phone.
He rarely ever used his beat-up laptop anymore but the insistent messages he kept getting were annoying.
Tara had taken his radio silence as him being in the dumps and as a result, she’d got him more clients in a week than he’d had in the past two months.
It keeps his brain active though so he doesn’t mind it too much even if Hisashi is a bit miffed by his absence.
She claims that money and good grub always cheer him up and she’s right once his bank account grows by three more digits.
It’s more yen than he knows what to do with but for now, Izuku’s saving it for a rainy day because when it rains, it pours indeed.
Nedzu had somehow tracked down his contact under the guise of wanting to pay for quirk analysis and had bombarded his email begging for a truce or to at least stop going after the teachers because the civilians were still raising hell on them.
With Snipe and now Nemuri gone, there are more classes to be covered and the rest of the teachers are stretched a bit thin.
That’s none of Izuku’s concern as he has zero intentions of attempting to rekindle the friendship they once shared.
Students are still dropping out of UA at an alarming rate, choosing to go to different hero schools or they’re choosing different professions entirely.
The principal’s messages are left unread.
Izuku’s got no time to be playing buddy-buddy with that rodent but desperate individuals are always his favorite to work with and a generous donation is all that it takes for Nedzu to keep his mouth shut about their operations.
If he wasn’t such a corrupt little bastard who only cared about his school, the heroes would’ve given the League a lot more trouble already.
Nedzu isn’t someone capable of gaining Izuku’s forgiveness.
Once the time is right, he’ll string the rodent up on a pole so he can atone for his transgressions.
He keeps his past under wraps but Shigaraki is far smarter than people usually give him credit for. The principal’s history is nothing reminiscent of sunshine and rainbows, but even with the horrid abuse and experimentation he had to suffer through, it does not tug on Izuku’s heartstrings.
If only Nedzu had used some of the vast money he pumped into UA to help the lower-class communities in the area; Villains wouldn’t be so common and citizens wouldn’t have to live in fear each passing day.
Izuku isn’t delusional enough to perceive himself as someone who is utterly kind.
His acts of kindness are fleeting and reserved for his family, the few people he holds dear to his cold heart.
Even so, a hero being in a position to help and choosing not to do so even when the simple act of giving doesn’t hinder you in the slightest is completely unacceptable.
Touya’s someone who’s been blowing up his phone recently too.
It’s quite odd but the company isn’t unwelcome so he makes an effort to hang out with him a bit more.
Dabi’s tired of consoling Tomura whenever Izuku’s gotten himself into another mind-blowing situation.
He’s sure their leader now has hypertension or is well on his way to developing it so if he looks out for the little twerp now and then that’s his business.
Still, Izuku is a hard person to reach and he’s even more scarce around the bar now more than ever.
It makes Touya’s skin crawl.
Chat
Touya: Come over later
Izuku: Why?
Touya: Come.
Izuku: Okay
Touya tucks his phone back into his jeans and lets out a breath, hoping the boy doesn’t show up with more bruises now that he’s been spending so much time with his father.
“Himiko, get off the floor. You’re scaring the customers.”
Truth be told she isn’t, the patrons are far too used to her shenanigans and often encourage it, walking around her if needs be.
“I want Izuuu,” she groans, pressing her face to the hardwood floor as she clutches a can of Sprite in her hand.
Dabi kisses his teeth and scoops her up from the floor and she hangs like a limp cat in his arms.
“Darling he’ll be back later. Now get up so you can have breakfast,” Magne says, presenting her with a suspiciously red yogurt bowl.
Tomura rasps out, “Stop being a brat. We’ve got places to be.”
Stalking the president is harder than it seems and being a spy is nothing like the movies.
Spinner’s absolutely disappointed when he’s almost caught but Himiko seems to be a natural, slinking in and out of offices as she snatches files that Tomura’s boss requested.
Most of their files aren’t digital, the old ones are still only paper and Toga feels no remorse leaving the drawers messier than they’d originally been.
Touya and Twice are stationed as the lookouts but Toga finds them unreliable as they beckon for her to leave the room when she’s clearly capable of staying a few seconds later.
Living on the edge isn’t something they prefer doing so soon enough they’re all fed up with each other with Magne having to break up their bickering.
Somehow they leave without tripping any alarms and Toga’s foul mood is long forgotten with the still-busy day ahead and she skips all the way back home. A splatter of crimson decorating her cheek.
As usual, Twice feeds off her energy and soon enough they’re doing shots with the drunkards who pay for it. Surely they’ll miss their money come tomorrow but right now everyone’s having a grand time; an absolute blast.
There’s a mission coming up and with how poorly the last one went, the entire League is nervous and for good reason.
Touya however remains aloof, forever calm as he feigns nonchalance and he pours pint after pint for the annoying souls sitting at the bar counter.
Still, he butters them up and soon enough there’s enough yen in the tip jar to buy groceries for at least a month.
All For One doesn’t typically allow failure of any sort and if they were unsuccessful, Spinner was sure that their heads would be stuck on sticks come morning.
Well, with the sole exception of his sons whom he seemed to have mysteriously gained soft spots for but he wouldn’t have such luck.
The man sneezes in his office, absentmindedly reaching for the Kleenex on his desk.
He’ll have Kurogiri get rid of the settled dust later but for now, he pushes his stacks of paper aside, sighing as he notices that his son has fallen asleep once again.
Izuku’s habits remained odd even after all this time.
Some months he couldn’t sleep through the night. The eye bags weighed him down but some days all he did was sleep; A permanent line of drool staining his face as Hisashi would lovingly wipe it with a warm rag so Izuku didn’t ruin his clothes.
Hisashi was sure he could sleep through a bombing if he was tired enough and clearly he was.
Still, he doesn’t feel guilty for waking him up for the third time in only an hour.
Why should Izuku choose fleeting sleep over spending time with his lovely father?
“Izuku, wake up.”
He’s greeted with a groan, one red eye opening to give him a nasty glare and a scowl gracing his son’s face.
All For One’s already used to this, knowing just how angry his boy can get when woken up unwillingly and he summons an iced vanilla latte with an extra shot of espresso, sliding it over to Izuku as a silent beg for a truce.
It works as his son doesn’t bite his head off.
Izuku doesn’t smile but he’s pleased that Hisashi remembers one of his favorite coffee orders as he greedily sucks at the straw, the scowl never leaving his lips.
“What?” he asks, voice low and gravelly from just waking up and his father can sense a bit of anger still in his tone.
It seems that both of his sons hate being woken up. Tomura tended to be a tad bit less grumpy though.
It’s cute.
“Don’t be like that Ducky. You don’t want to disappoint me, do you? Stay awake please, I need you up.” he says, caressing Izuku’s cheek as he pushes his son’s hair back and out of his face.
All For One knows exactly what to say just to garner his son’s attention, being polite in that sweet tone reserved for his youngest and while Tomura is busy with the League, Izuku will do a fine job at detailing his plan.
The hero commission has gone unchecked for far too long and all his henchmen aren’t high-level enough to gather the information he needs.
He needs the president eating out the palm of his hand and that’s where Izuku comes in.
She’s a harsh woman with a loud disposition but with the right circumstances, her very being can be tweaked to his liking.
Hisashi doesn’t normally aim this high right away but the executive directly below her was no good.
Awase had no living relatives and no one he called family either.
He woke up at 8 am every morning and made his way to work, leaving no sooner than 7 pm and repeating that each day, save for the weekend when he’d crack open a six-pack of beer and smoke a pack of cigarettes while watching trashy reality television.
He lived what All For One considered to be an extraordinarily sad life but the man was truly free.
No children weighing him down, no wife at home to nag him when he came home late and most importantly, he had no one to be used or turned against him.
His boring life saved him from blackmail and while he could’ve sent the League to threaten him anyway, Awase wasn’t the type of individual to cling to life.
His passive suicidal tendencies made Hisashi steer clear of him; he’d defy the villains for the sole purpose of dying as a martyr.
A so-called hero who didn’t bend to the whims of evil even when death stared him in the face.
All For One had no intentions of making such an icon out of anybody.
Still, he wanted One For All back in his grasp, perhaps he’d let his youngest hold onto it for safekeeping.
As the days passed, it became harder to separate Izuku from Yoichi.
He saw his brother everywhere Izuku went as though his son’s shadow was no longer his own.
How annoyed they’d be in the morning.
The small smile they’d wear when Hisashi did something for them.
How Izuku grew to look more and more like Yoichi each day.
It had always just been Yoichi and Hisashi.
He’d driven his brother away due to his lack of understanding and betrayal by the only family he had remaining definitely hurt him in a way beyond his ability to explain.
It had left a gaping hole in his chest that was only now beginning to close.
Even though there were no examples of love in his life, he had loved his quirk, even if it was societally unaccepted; the only thing he had.
His greedy quirk dictated the way how he loved as it was the only love he ever knew. The only love he was capable of expressing and that suffocating possessiveness was ultimately what drove Yoichi away.
In a way, he knew that Izuku somehow understood this. He understood just how much it meant when Hisashi gave him something rather than taking it away.
To his son, the act of giving was an incredible act of pure love he was grateful to experience because Hisashi was going against the very nature of his quirk; gifting rather than taking.
Izuku was even grateful for the bruises that marred his once pristine skin, hovering and caring for each injury as they were important possessions held near and dear to his heart.
This was why they meshed so well together despite the toxicity.
Why Izuku would rather die than betray his father the way how his uncle did.
Hisashi’s love ran deep, a consuming, passionate love that warmed the hollow insides of Izuku’s very bones.
It was a prison, confining and ensnaring its victims until the very end of time but for Izuku, who had never been loved, who had never experienced the warmth of someone’s hands until now, this was just a blessing he almost didn’t deserve.
“Ducky, don’t drag your feet. The sooner we arrive, the sooner we can leave.” Hisashi tuts, pulling Izuku along by his arm because he’s wholly unwilling to walk properly.
The sun shines down on them as they walk to Hisashi’s tailor.
He’s a rather impressive man, a bespoke tailor is hard to find in these parts but Izuku isn’t interested in the slightest, still scowling with another latte with a dangerous amount of blonde espresso clutched tightly in his hand.
All For One asks, “May I have a sip?” and Izuku nods, still pissed but not petty enough to not share. He hadn’t even paid for the coffee.
“Thank you,” his father says, patting his head, still dragging him along and effectively distracting him from the game store that’s along the way.
No doubt he’d want to stop just to see if they had something in stock that Tomura wanted but Hisashi had always hated such stores.
The staff were typically rude, greasy-looking teenagers and the air was always stale even though the doors opened so frequently.
He hated it.
Izuku looks up when they step into the building.
It oddly smells like peaches and there are several customers still inside.
The hush dies down as soon as his father’s shoe hits their fur carpet and a tall, dark-haired man comes rushing out to greet them.
Perhaps he’s the owner Izuku muses.
Abarai Takumi normally had good days.
As a tailor, he spoke to a lot of customers daily and his sociable nature thrived in it.
He had many friends, albeit probably fake ones who were sucking up to him in an effort to gain a discount for his designer pieces.
His customer service was top notch and most people had no issue paying the seemingly ridiculous prices he set for his creations.
Unfortunately, he’d caught the eye of the boogeyman and was now responsible for supplying the man with suits on a regular basis.
The protection that came with it was almost worth dealing with him.
His butler generally came in to pick them up and deliver his master’s messages but sometimes the devil himself would decide to show up in person and today was unfortunately one of those days.
Takumi almost had a heart attack when he realized All For One wasn’t alone.
He hadn’t thought such a vile man would be capable of reproducing further but he was certainly wrong.
The boy beside him looked exactly like his father.
Even more so than the oldest did. They walked the same and held themselves up with that same air of slight arrogance.
White curly hair, freckles splattered across their entire face, blood-red eyes that seemed to look into his very soul and a model face that almost always seemed unimpressed.
He could barely handle the man himself and now he’d brought a carbon copy along who was also judging him from where they were standing.
Abadan almost wished it was Tomura instead but he was still finding piles of ash in inconspicuous places where various suits used to be.
Perhaps All For One was trying to kill him.
It was certainly working.
Still, he felt jittery even though the man had waved him off, choosing to browse through the selection of suits he already had available.
“Izuku,” he called, “This one would suit you don’t you think?” and his son gives a grunt of encouragement, not even looking up from the Nintendo in his hand.
“What about this one?” Hisashi asks a few moments later, watching as the only response he gets is a halfhearted thumbs up.
He’d sigh but Izuku is far better company than Tomura would ever be and he moves along to the cufflinks, hoping that some of the designs will catch Izuku’s eye.
All For One stares at them long and hard.
Long enough to make Abarai nervous before he questions, “Gold or silver?”
“Gold,” comes the reply without a second thought and Izuku still hasn’t looked up as yet.
“Ichi, at least pretend to seem interested. You’re hurting your old man’s feelings.”
Hisashi couldn’t care less but he did want Izuku to come to enjoy spending time with him so blatantly guilt-tripping him it is.
To Izuku’s credit, he doesn’t grimace or argue, tucking his Nintendo into Hisashi’s front pocket when he stands.
“Get that pair,” Izuku points at a set of cufflinks with the letter ‘S’ engraved on them.
All For One hums in agreement, making a mental note to pay for them later as he plans to get a pair for both his sons as well.
Kurogiri could probably wrangle Tomura into a suit and Izuku could easily be bribed.
The poor customers who were already there before this demon had arrived were desperately trying to check out, hurriedly grabbing their items and briskly walking out the door with their bags, and receipts held tightly in their stubby fingers.
One poor soul who must’ve been legally blind bumped into All For One’s son and Abarai swore that the man’s life flashed before his very eyes.
The stare he received in return would’ve made grown men piss themselves and judging by the increasingly growing wet spot on the man’s trousers, he had.
Izuku’s coffee, or rather what remained of it was now on the floor with a pesky man at his feet blubbering out apologizes and he attempted to wipe his now stained shoes.
Hisashi could tell exactly when Izuku’s fuse had blown.
His son’s eye twitched periodically and he simply couldn’t understand just how one person could love coffee that much.
He could personally appreciate the beverage, he liked it incredibly sweet but Izuku acted like it was what blew life into his very veins.
There was no reason to be this furious when the drink was more than halfway done as well.
Still, Izuku’s awful mood was solely his fault; he’d been pushing him around all morning without letting him sleep properly and he grimaced slightly.
He’d have to do better.
“You absolute fucking twit. Are you bloody impaired you fuc-.”
“Ichi,” Hisashi started. “He didn’t mean to. The man’s clearly in a hurry. He must be quite busy to be rushing like that.”
Abarai watched as the boy’s scowl increased tenfold. “As if that gives him the righ-“ was all that made it out his mouth before he was cut off once more, All For One raising a hand indicating silence.
“I said he didn’t mean to.” he reiterated, his voice much sterner than when he first entered and Takumi watched as his son’s rage deflated in real-time.
“I really didn’t mean to. I am truly sorry,” the poor man said, finally rising from the floor, completely unable to look either one of them in the eyes.
He dabs at Izuku’s shoe with a spare napkin he’s pulled from his pocket but this only serves to further the boy’s anger.
The napkin is paper thin and unable to soak up that much liquid so it dissolves at a fast pace, leaving little bits stuck to the boy’s shoe.
Hisashi raised an eyebrow in a ‘see’ gesture but Izuku wasn’t impressed, sucking his teeth before stalking off to sit in one of the comfy, plush chairs on the far side of the room reserved for high-paying guests.
The miniature version of All For One was almost just as scary as the real deal.
Still, Takumi’s always one to count his blessings.
Perfectly glad that he wasn’t on the end of Hisashi’s rage today and he didn’t need to clean some sad soul’s blood out of his carpet again.
“I’m sorry about that,” he begins as he neatly folds the suits he’s taken from All For One’s hands.
The devil hums, seemingly unimpressed.
“It’s quite alright. Ducky’s just in a foul mood.”
The boy bristles at being talked about in such a way as if he were just a toddler throwing a tantrum and Abarai’s tension suddenly returns and he averts his gaze and mechanically continues folding the rest of the items.
He must be a good father. An evil criminal but a good father nonetheless.
The sweet pet names don’t go unnoticed and just when Takumi feels like he can breathe, Hisashi says, “I’d like these same exact suits in his size, you’ll have to take his measurements. Just black suits and plain white undershirts with the gold cufflinks.”
“My baby does hate colours,” the man sighs, sounding awfully sad and Takumi’s heart drops once again when the boy states in a matter-of-fact tone, “I don’t want anyone touching me.”
For his own sanity, he needs them gone. Yesterday.
“It’s quite alright, I could estimate your size and if you have any issues just send them back to be altered okay?” he amends and mini All For One just stands up, tucking a strawberry lime lollipop in his mouth as he steps out of the shop without replying, seemingly done with him, his father and this conversation.
He tosses the wrapper into the trash on his way out, walking with his head held awfully high.
Hisashi chuckles, patting his shoulder. “Don’t take it to heart. He’s just grumpy. I’ll need his suits by next week.”
The cash tips All For One leaves aren’t nearly enough for Takumi to put up with his bullshit another day.
Izuku’s still sulking once Hisashi steps outside and he fears that his son will develop wrinkles far ahead of his time. “Ducky, are you still mad?”
He gets a grunt in response as Izuku idly plays with the freakishly green grass on the sidewalk that Kurogiri would’ve been excited about.
“I want to go home.”
“You don’t want to replace your drink first?” All For One asks, cocking an eyebrow in mild surprise.
Another glare is sent his way. “They’re closed, Father.”
That’s how he can tell his son definitely wouldn’t appreciate any mind games at this moment but being around his brother has rubbed off as he’s now throwing tantrums as Tomura would.
However, Hisashi isn’t angry in the slightest.
Izuku would’ve never been comfortable enough to do so months ago so instead he hides his smile as he pulls his son to his feet.
“I’m sorry baby. What can daddy do to make it better?” he coos, hoping to coax a grin from his son before he goes back to the bar.
He can feel his phone vibrate in his front pocket, no doubt his eldest spamming their chat.
It seems they’ve been out for too long.
Hisashi can tell when he melts into the hug; greedy, bony hands clutching the back of his suit as he breathes in his father’s signature scent of cologne and smoke.
“Vanilla ice cream,” comes the mumbled reply and he promises, “Okay, we’ll get a carton from the konbini later.”
Another response comes but all Hisashi can decipher are garbled words from his chest.
“What’s that sweetheart? Speak up Ichi, your papa can’t hear you.”
Izuku looks up at him, red eyes almost close to watering and his eyebrows scrunched up in slight defiance.
“I don’t want a carton, Dad. I want the parlor on the block beside where Kurogiri gets his fish so I can have ice cream whenever I want. I deserve it.”
Oh and isn’t that a bold request but who is Hisashi to deny his son anything?”
He holds his baby impossibly tightly, rocking them from side to side, swaying as he does so, patiently waiting for Kurogiri to come to pick them up.
“Of course Izuku, only the best for you.”
The door chimed as the facial recognition software let him in.
The bar was oddly quiet as everyone slept, too drunk out of their minds to even go home.
Izuku realized that some patrons truly did think of Midnight Blues as a home.
Somewhere they could act freely without being judged and as long as they followed the rules and bought a beer every once in a while, they definitely wouldn’t be kicked out.
Magne and Twice were draping the spare blankets that Izuku had insisted that they get over the drunkards and he walked past, dipping his head in a tiny bow as acknowledgment.
Kurogiri busied himself with cleaning the counters and washing the pans they’d used for the night.
The neon sign was never really turned off, if they were awake, they’d be open and anyone could come in even at weird hours early morning.
Now the telly was running, nothing more than background noise as Touya emptied out the tip jar before lying down on the couch beside Izuku and Toga.
Spinner and Compress were watching some old war movie separated into a million parts on YouTube and Magne was busy polishing her magnet.
Tomura could see how Touya hovered around his baby brother. Trying and failing at attempting to be subtle while looking him over.
At first glance, he’d assumed the worst, but now he could see how most of League paid special attention to checking if Izuku came back with any more bruises or injuries like before.
It was heartwarming to know that they’d cared this much and Tomura genuinely had come to love this little band of misfits.
Still, the very notion of having to check Izuku over for bruises was also heartbreaking.
He was the youngest and yet Father had put him in charge of most of their plans and he was the one who mainly had solo missions.
The only reason why they were tagging along for this one was because All For One was impatient.
Ruling over a country was precisely what he was aiming for, seeking to appoint his eldest as the leader but everyone knew he’d be the one controlling everything from the shadows.
Even Izuku could’ve figured it out even if his IQ was several times lower but it seems that Tomura hadn’t quite opened his mind to that possibility as yet and well, Izuku wasn’t about to rain on his parade.
Overtaking the Hero Commission is necessary because it is a key institution he needed to have in his grasp and while the media and the police were almost his, he’d put much more effort into securing the president.
Izuku had insisted on watching over the people still sleeping downstairs so everyone hadn’t gone to their rooms as yet.
Kurogiri liked to keep himself busy, working on a new batch of lemonade.
It was Iguchi’s turn to choose so matcha lemonade it was and while Himiko was slightly displeased because she claimed “I don’t want to drink lemonade that tastes like grass,” Izuku had curbed the issue by giving her a carton of cookie dough ice cream.
Owning a parlor had its perks even if Touya demanded a copy of the keys so he could also have ice cream whenever he wanted.
Now that the night was calm and the wind making the outside colder than it should be, the brothers were sitting on the curb, just in front of their bar.
Tomura was scrubbing barbecue sauce off Izuku’s face; he’d had five pounds of brisket earlier and had seemingly missed a spot or two.
“You’re all good yeah? Didn’t make Dad mad?” Tomura questions, just making sure that his baby brother is alright and in one piece.
He can breathe easier when Izuku nods but a pout overtakes his face when he starts to rant.
“We went shopping for suits. Ugh, you would’ve hated it Tomu and I didn’t even get to stop at that store you like and some pompous fuck spilt my coffee in the store!”
“Don’t cuss Izu. Did Dad kill him?”
Izuku puffs up like a fish, “He didn’t! And then he got mad at me when I got mad!”
Oh?
And isn’t that a surprise?
Tomura supposes he can’t kill every one of Abarai’s clients which pisses him off.
Perhaps their father was on extremely thin ice?
“Aw, you poor thing. I’m sorry ‘zuku,” he placates, knowing that just recalling the event has his baby brother all worked up again.
Izuku lets out a little ‘hmph’ and deflates, sighing before draping himself over Tomura’s back.
He takes that as a sign to give Izuku a piggyback ride and they walk down the street with no real destination in sight.
Ice is under their feet so Tomura moves slowly but Izuku doesn’t mind, continuing the conversation without being prompted.
He’d missed his brother after all.
“I got Dad to buy me the ice cream parlor though. You know the one close to the fish market that ‘giri visits?”
Tomura laughs, Izuku did love ice cream. “Really?”
“Yeah,” he says. “It’s ours now.”
Ours. Izuku says it so casually as though it’s only natural and Tomura doesn’t even feel the nighttime chill anymore, his chest is quite warm.
He’s got the best baby brother he could ever ask for.
“Okay,” Tomura agrees before asking, “What’s your plan for it?”
Izuku didn’t ask for such grandeur things without a detailed plan in mind and he’s proven right yet again.
“You were worried about moving Redestro’s funds into an account and you didn’t want all that cash lying around so we can launder it first.”
“Through the parlor,” Izuku states when Tomura takes a bit too long to reply. “And I needed somewhere to put my funds too and cause I didn’t want to have only one account.”
“Why?”
Tomura’s confused.
Their dad bestowed them with cards and accounts at the bank he had in his grasp and Tomura hadn’t had any issues with them yet.
“Well, Dad’s got control over those accounts yeah? I wanna be somewhat independent. I can’t have him freezing my account whenever he’s mad at me,” Izuku mumbles into his shoulder and Tomura understands deeply.
Hisashi has frozen his account before. When he’d throw a tantrum or when he was too much of a brat, that would be one of their dad’s go-to punishments and even though he hadn’t done it in a while, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t start again.
Maybe that’s why Izuku would withdraw cash from it every once in a while claiming he hated leaving a paper trail behind.
Tomura nods. “Smart but won’t you have a lot of yen floating around for a few weeks at least?”
“Yeah but as long as my business looks legit, they can’t seize my money so it’ll be alright.”
“Alright, if you’re sure.”
The conversation dies down for a while and soon enough they’re turning on the street with the boardwalk. The seaside is unforgivingly cold as the wind nips at their skin and Izuku buries his face further into Tomura’s neck, pressing his freezing nose there.
“Wanna get ice cream?”
“Isn’t it too cold for ice cream ‘Zu? The temp is literally in the negatives right now and we’ve got to head out tomorrow so let’s not stay out too late.”
Tomura doesn’t have to turn around to see that his baby brother is frowning once again and he wonders if this is how Father feels all the time, bending to Izuku’s whims once he notices that he’s displeased.
“When was the last time you’ve eaten?”
“Hmm, probably Midnight? Just a bit though 'cause I gave the blood to Himi remember?”
And Tomura does indeed remember. Toga had drunk so much, that they’d thought she was high.
The girl was quite literally bouncing off the walls, moving too fast for Magne to rein her in with her magnet pupils dilated and singing the theme song for Barbie in an incredibly off-pitch voice.
It didn’t help that the bar patrons had cheered her on, singing with her in an equally obnoxious tone and then she had put them all to sleep because Toga had somehow managed to figure out the inner workings of Midnight’s quirk.
Izuku feels his brother shudder but he blames it on the cold.
“You gotta eat soon yeah? We could do it tonight. I’ll keep watch out for you if you’d like.”
“Hmm?” comes the sleepy reply, “I wanna spend time with Tomu-nii and I don’t want you to get grossed out. You won’t love me anymore.”
Some of the sleep vanishes when Tomura flicks him square on the forehead, leaving a bright red mark against his pale skin.
“My love isn’t so fickle and you’re not hard to love at all. Get that out of your head.”
Tomura holds him tighter, waiting patiently as Izuku silently fiddles with the lock of their new business.
His brother is incredibly small and silly.
Tomura will always hold the umbrella more over Izuku’s head even if that means his shoulder will get soaked.
In other words, he’d carry him up to heaven on his back or hold his hand all the way down to hell.
Izuku had his older brother wrapped around his pinky and he didn’t even know it.
Tomura groans once the lights are on, closing the door behind him. “We’ve been here once already ‘Zuzu and it didn’t look like this. Why the fuck is the entire decor pink?”
The walls were freshly painted pink.
The booths and seats were pink.
Pastels covered the entirety of the counter and the furry carpets were leopard print.
The lights were oddly fancy; lamps shaped like bluebells and the reflected lights were a faint light blue.
It didn’t match in the slightest.
Izuku shrugged, “I let Himi-chan and Magne decorate, plus Compress chose the carpets. They’ve got spare keys too.”
“Do all my simpletons have keys to the building?” he asks and Izuku nods, eating out of a family-sized box of ice cream like the cretin that he is.
“Wanna share?” Izuku asks, around a mouthful of ice cream and he stops for a moment, clutching his head while muttering out ‘brain freeze’.
“You’re very silly Izuku,” Tomura tells him, tone oddly serious as he stares into the eyes that eerily look exactly like his own.
Izuku cocks his head, smiling with a golden spoon in his mouth. “Me?”
“Who else if not y-“
The words are cut off from his lips as a heaping spoonful of vanilla bean ice cream makes its way into his mouth and Tomura chokes on it, swatting Izuku over the head.
“Are you trying to kill me?” he rasps out, still catching his breath but swallowing the dessert so it doesn’t end up on the floor.
Izuku tries and fails to look like the poster child of innocence, batting his eyelashes obnoxiously at his older brother. “I’d never.”
Tomura doesn’t get to reply because a piercing wail fills the air.
It sounds like a child, a small one that’s probably lost in front of their store if he had to guess.
She’s a small girl, maybe around four or five and she’s wailing to her heart’s content, clutching the massive Pompompurin plush Himiko had insisted on leaving outside the store.
It was their store mascot she’d claimed and Magne hadn’t minded so he let it be.
Her cheeks are rosy and her face is flushed no doubt from the tears that seem never ending.
Tomura’s no good with kids, he isn’t interested in consoling some brat either so he gives Izuku a look before heading back inside to pack up the carton they were using.
Izuku’s voice is unnaturally soft and sweet as he asks, “What’s wrong sweetheart? What’s your name?”
“I’m Riyo and I’m lost. I want my nanny!” the girl replies, still crying with her blonde pigtails bouncing as the little darling rubs her face, trying to brush her tears away.
He frowns, passing Tomura the keys as he pets Riyo’s head with his spare hand. “Aw, you poor thing. Where’s your nanny?”
Izuku wipes the snot from her nose with a handkerchief and almost laughs at the blatant disgust on his brother’s face even though Tomura’s done so for him a million times.
“I’ll take her home and then I’ll come home okay? No shortcuts, scouts honor,” Izuku tells him, even giving him a mock salute in response and the eldest Shigaraki isn’t impressed in the slightest.
“If I even hear that you’ve gotten yourself into some sort of trouble before coming back to the bar, I’ll tell Father.”
Izuku gasps in offense, “You wouldn’t.”
“Oh, I would. Don’t test my patience Izuku. You’ve got two hours.”
Deciding not to push his luck, Izuku just nods.
Riyo’s now seated on his hip as she absentmindedly plays with the strings on his black hoodie.
Fate’s a funny thing.
It often chooses the oddest individuals to side with and it’s rarely ever the underdog.
Or perhaps this was all the good karma Izuku had managed to accumulate in his lifetime.
A reward for putting up with such hardship and tribulations during his earlier years of childhood.
Meeting Riyo aided their plans in such a way Izuku hadn’t even anticipated.
The poor girl’s having an awful day and her days to come aren’t much better.
Izuku decides against taking her to the police station. That in of itself was far too risky especially since Tomura had already headed back to the bar so he walked around the neighboring streets instead hoping to spot the nanny Riyo had previously mentioned.
“Where’s your nanny, pretty girl? Do you see her at all?” he asks once they’re in the subway close by.
Izuku figures that this spot was where the nanny most likely would be and maybe she’d put out an announcement over the intercom.
Even so, Izuku hated being still so he walked around the platform, giving polite smiles when people stared too hard at him and Riyo, who was still on his hip, clutching his shirt like a lifeline.
Suddenly she perks up, blue eyes sparkling and one of her pigtails hits Izuku square in the face.
Riyo points to a middle-aged woman who is on the phone, looking awfully calm for someone who’s just lost a four year old in the middle of the night. “There she is!”
Shigaraki’s now more alert than before and he hums, rubbing her back. “Yes, I see her sweetheart. Stay quiet while we go say hello okay?”
She seems confused but she nods nevertheless and Izuku inches forward slowly, using the sparse crowd to sneak up behind her so he can hear her conversation.
“Yes madam president, it’s already done. Riyo’s gone and I’ll leave now before she can find me. You’ll get much more done than Awase does after this madam and sir will be pleased too,” she speaks lowly into the phone, brushing off some dust from her skirt.
“I will get started on that if you so wish it, madam. My eta is roughly twenty minutes, I’m only a few stops away,” she continues, walking past them, not even sparing a glance.
The nanny leaves without a second thought, walking to the designated area and standing behind the painted lines on the floor, allowing the passengers to exit the train that has just arrived.
The doors close and she doesn’t even look behind her and in Riyo’s shock, Izuku hadn’t bothered with approaching the woman.
He couldn’t let her go back with someone who had just abandoned her anyway but he hadn’t even known that this was the president’s ward.
The temperature hasn’t dropped in the slightest so he pawns off his hoodie to Riyo who’s starting to shiver slightly. She’s fascinated by the fleece inside but that does nothing to distract from the aching pain in her chest so her tears haven’t run dry in the slightest.
Izuku leaves the subway, walking up the stairs past the fish market and back to his ice cream parlor and closes the door gently behind them.
He removes Riyo’s tiny fingers from the harsh grip that she has on her stunning purple locks and he sets her down on the counter, wordlessly passing her an ice cream sandwich bar.
They eat in silence for a while, only her strangled gasps of air filling the quiet when she has to catch her breath from crying so hard.
“Izu,” she begins, remembering her savior’s name from when Tomura spoke, “Why didn’t Mama want me anymore? I tried really hard to be good.” she finishes, looking up at him from underneath her fluffy bangs.
“I thought the nanny liked me too,” Riyo frowns as if she expects Izuku to have the answers to all the gut-wrenching questions that she keeps asking.
It’s odd how impersonal her relationships can be perceived. She doesn’t call the nanny by an actual name and her mother is only ever ‘mama’.
That doesn’t mean much, in Izuku’s head up until a few months ago, Inko was still ‘mama’ too before Hisashi had vanquished the thought.
More so, she doesn’t look like the president in the slightest. Blue eyes and pretty purple hair are sure to stand out and her mother doesn’t look that flashy at all.
Izuku deflects by questioning, “Where’s your dad?” as he takes the sandwich wrapper from her hands to throw it in the trash.
Riyo shrugs, now eyeing the carton in Izuku’s fingers. “Dunno. Mama doesn’t let me see him.”
“I want my real mama,” she sighs, leaning on Izuku’s side so she can stick a spoon into the ice cream.
That at least clears up Izuku’s confusion.
It explains why Riyo and the president don’t look alike. Riyo is simply a product of the husband’s infidelity. She’s his mistress’ daughter and a child shared with the president’s lover and has no space in her home; especially when she looks so much like the woman who seduced her spouse.
His heart aches for her; the situation hits close to home and now he wishes that he was back in his Father’s office, seated on the man’s lap as he worked. Breathing in the secondhand smoke from his dad’s cigars he lays his head on his broad, sturdy chest.
Riyo has neither parent for comfort and while her mother is absent, Izuku’s wounds that Inko left behind don’t hurt as much anymore.
Hisashi and Tomura cared enough to fill the aching gap in his chest but this sweet girl was simply alone on this Earth.
In the end, he carries her to a well-known orphanage in the area. Promising to visit her as soon as he can and then he vanishes into the night, leaving her sniffling on the doorstep.
This sours his mood in such a way that even a second pint of vanilla bean ice cream can’t fix it