Now, Nezu was a logical being at his core. He had his soft spots—children, primarily, but also tea, animals, and the discriminated—but for the most part, everything was approached with a gentle smile and a calculated demeanour.
However, as Deku was in fact a child that undoubtedly had faced discrimination, he did include the vulnerable child as one of those soft spots that sparked the rare irrational emotion from him. The events of Christmas had further solidified his opinion of the child; he could see both the joy and the fear within him, so similar to many of the youth he'd seen through his doors, and the desire to be good that burst from every action. Yes, he was determined to do his best for the boy.
So when he saw the number one hero enter his office, no matter his conflicted countenance, he felt a rising rage within him. It had been hours since All Might was reported flying across the city, brutally subduing purse-snatchers and common criminals like he had a personal vendetta, and Nezu had immediately put the two together. To have him enter the office so long after what he suspected had come to pass between All Might and his successor was nothing short of infuriating.
"Why don't you sit down, Yagi-san?" he ordered with a fake smile plastered over his desired condemnation. "You look like you need some tea, yes?"
All Might shrank from his muscled form into his emaciated one, swimming in his morning joggers and hunched over tiredly.
"I came to tell you that I met All for One's son," Toshinori said with clear frustration. "I don't know what he's trying to do, but I nearly gave him my quirk. My quirk, Nezu! I nearly gave All for One my quirk!"
He chuckled, but without cheer. "No, I don't believe you did. Sit. Let's have a chat about Midoriya Izuku."
In another situation, the gobsmacked face that All Might made would have been comical. In the present, however, it only provided a source of exasperation for the principal simply on principle.
Why do people insist on being surprised by me? the mammal sighed mentally, watching patiently for All Might to snap out of his stupor.
After quite literally shaking himself out of it, All Might expressed his sheer disbelief with, "You know?"
"Oh, yes, I know quite a bit," Nezu said, standing on his chair. "I know, for one, that our informant is Midoriya Izuku, a boy registered as quirkless to the government. I know that his diagnosis was given by a doctor who re-entered public practice not three months prior to their meeting and who left mere weeks after the diagnosis. I also know that you chose him as your successor and that you made a grave mistake this morning."
Toshinori looked away. "I know what I did. I'm shamed; I should have listened to you or Sir, picked a current student. I should have consulted you on my successor."
"Oh, no, not at all," Nezu chirped cheerfully. His anger was simmering just below the surface, but anger did little against heroes. No, calm and deliberately optimistic worked best. "I think you selected a miraculously wonderful successor. Better than I ever imagined."
It was like he'd hit All Might with a hammer right over the head, with the dazed expression he got. A gaping mouth, most unbecoming on humans.
Patience. That was what Nezu must practice with some heroes. A good deal of patience.
"Yes, you chose admirably," he persisted. "I've been watching him closely this last month; he's a kind-hearted boy, wouldn't you agree? Smart, capable, dedicated … yes I see why you chose him. Your mistake, therefore, was in rejecting him this morning."
The hero snapped his mouth shut audibly. "Don't you know who he is?! He's the son of my sworn enemy!"
"A perfect background," Nezu deliberately misunderstood, redirecting Toshinori's anger into justification. "I can't think of anyone better."
Toshinori sputtered blood. "'Perfect'? It flies in the face of everything One for All stands for!"
"Hmm," Nezu hummed through a sip of tea. "Remind me, Yagi-san, what was the purpose of One for All?"
"To bring an end to that man!" Yagi roared. "To build up enough strength to finally defeat him!"
Nezu nodded. "Yes, that's what I understood. So, tell me, Yagi-san, how is it an affront to give your quirk to a child who is doing everything in his power to make that dream a reality?"
That shut the hero up, to Nezu's delight. He placed the teacup back in its saucer after a deliberate beat, emphasizing the silence Yagi was providing.
"Why did you choose him in the first place, I wonder?" He clasped his paws together under his jaw, a considering posture that always unsettled his staff. Yagi stiffened. Ah, yes, the pose seemed to be working. "Did he talk you into it? Hunt you down and purposefully endear himself to you? Or was it as I suspect—that you saw the boy in action and saw a hero. That you were the one to initiate things with him because you saw something more to the child. Perhaps in an incident with a villain where Midoriya ran to someone's aid?"
He pressed a button and turned around as a clip played for the hero. It was the news footage of the Sludge Villain attack. Heroes standing by doing nothing, the pity, fires raging and people calling for All Might. Then … a blur of black. A child with green hair runs forward and buys the hostage breath with only a notebook and his wits. Without pause, he reaches for his friend.
"It was a lie," Yagi croaked behind him, eyes fixed on the screen. "He could have easily beaten him."
Nezu nodded. "Perhaps. But Midoriya Izuku is registered as quirkless; any deviation from that would bring scrutiny. Which, perhaps, makes this next bit all the more admirable. Look there."
It was subtle, but the heroes saw Midoriya's uniform sleeve stretch as his arm bulked up for just a second before it was plunged into the depths of the villain.
"Even though it risked his identity," Nezu narrated somberly, "the child used his quirks to help someone in need. I have no doubt that he would have revealed a much more inexplicable quirk should you have failed to arrive. He would have saved that boy no matter what it cost him."
Nezu and Yagi faced off across the desk. The principal was no longer smiling, and Yagi was no longer gnashing his teeth. There was an air of consideration between them, each evaluating.
"You think he wouldn't give it to his father the second it was in his grasp?" Yagi demanded tersely. "There is nothing All for One wants more than my quirk. He would send his child to trick it away from me. Nothing would be more satisfying for him than to have me give it away so easily."
The principal sighed. "Have you not yet finished equating the son with the father, then? I had thought you were able to distinguish between the two at this point."
That accusation hung heavy in the air. It was a tense few moments, watching the number one hero cycle through grief, denial, anger, and every other emotion under the sun. Yet, it needed to be that way. If Yagi refused to see Midoriya for who he was instead of for who his father was, Nezu wasn't sure how he would approach this. Their relationship seemed a vital piece of this whole puzzle and a deterioration at this point could spell disaster.
Still, with the silence he was getting from the other side of the desk the hero seemed too tongue-tied to engage. So, after a minute of silence, Nezu took a sip of tea to wet his throat and continued.
"Well, I suppose I am disappointed," Nezu said, earning a frown from the hero. "I was certainly looking forward to arranging your custody of the child, but I see that will not be possible."
"Custo—, how did you know about that?" Yagi blustered. "No, no, of course I can't take the boy."
Nezu clicked his tongue. "Interesting."
From across the desk, Yagi's incredulous gaze was enough to spark concern. But he was not the one who it was sparked within. No, Nezu was decidedly not going to allow this hero to continue on in idiocy.
"I find your reaction very interesting," he continued, "because you have admitted something very crucial in your words, Yagi-san. You didn't say Midoriya didn't need a new home—as if, perhaps, you believed he would be in a cell next to his father—only that he wouldn't be staying with you. That means that you don't believe he is guilty of anything at all, doesn't it? You want him to be, you want him to be a replica of his father, but you know he is not. You do believe that someone should take him in. You're just so against the boy that you refuse to let it be you."
The giant of a man was silent, much to Nezu's consternation.
"Yagi," he pressed, "we owe a great deal to this young man. Without him, we wouldn't even know of All for One's existence. And we will continue to owe him even more as he helps us to dismantle All for One's empire. Why would you alienate him? What are you afraid of?"
He was still silent, and Nezu was losing patience with the human.
Before the argument could continue, Yagi's phone dinged in his pocket, effectively allowing the man to escape from their discourse. He quickly bumbled a half-hearted apology and took out the device. One glance had the hero losing colour as if in a whiteout.
"Yagi?" Nezu prompted urgently.
All Might flipped the phone around, revealing a text message from Bakugo Katsuki. In the picture was a lightly disguised All for One with his arm around a lifeless Midoriya Izuku, leading him from a school room. The grand man seemed so out of place in the cheap public school. The contrast between father and son was striking in more ways than their height and demeanour, as the powerful man led along a limp and lifeless child beside him. The message fixed underneath only said, "Deku's in trouble cause of you. Yeah, cause he snuck out for you. I hope you die."
"Yagi, what happened this morning?" the principal glared up at the hero who was already turned away from him. There was no response. "I believe we need to have a frank discussion, All Might, about how we treat children. After you tell me exactly what is happening to that boy."
His father was in his school. The tall and powerful villain was standing at the front of the class, speaking kindly with the principal and only disguised with a beard and longer, black hair. He could see Kacchan sitting stiff at his desk, but Izuku couldn't take his eyes off of his father and his lethal presence. He had made a mistake breaking the rules this morning and it was time for the consequences. He had known they were coming, but he wasn't ready.
His heart still felt raw and bleeding from All Might's rejection this morning, he didn't know if he was ready for what his father would throw at him. It could be anything. He could go through more brutal training, join that underground fighting ring and kill people, anything could happen. And All Might hadn't even cared about what he'd sacrificed. Now his father was livid enough to come to the school himself and Izuku was trembling.
"Izuku, I've come to take you home."
What a perfect sentence, so innocuous to the class and conveyed with a soft voice and open body language. But Izuku knew how angry his father would be at his disobedience that morning. He could see the killing intent hidden in his father's words.
He hurried to pack his school things under the class's curious eyes.
"Dad, what's going on?" he asked as he reached the front, keeping up the charade his father was putting together. He even managed to hide the shaking. Until his father spoke next.
"Your mother is feeling unwell."
Katsuki hated sitting there, doing nothing, as the creep carted off Deku. But his blood boiled even more when he heard what the man said.
"Your mother is feeling unwell."
That bastard. Katsuki could see the second those words sunk in and Deku lost all the power he'd been able to wrangle free from hid old man. He was like a puppet, suddenly limp and docile, dragged along by a puppet master. Deku would do anything to see his mum again; he knew it, and so did his old man. The gleam in the monster's eyes said as much.
He snapped a picture with his phone and sent it angrily to All Might. Damn that fake hero to every ring of hell for how he treated Deku, but maybe he would react enough to do something.
It would have to do. He didn't know any other heroes well enough to have their phone numbers… Wait. Yes, I do.
"Teach, I need to call my parents," he announced, standing up. "To tell them about Deku's mom. They're friends."
"Oh, of course!"
Katsuki didn't wait for permission and walked out the door, the teacher wouldn't stop him even if he didn't explain. He ducked around the corner to see Deku and his father walking away. His stomach soured just seeing the nerd folding over like that. Then his creepy old man turned to look back, right at him. The message in his smug, evil eyes was clear: He's mine, boy. Don't try anything.
But Katsuki never backed down from a fight. He bared his teeth at the man.
"Oi!"
His focus was on the embodiment of evil in front of him, but he still saw Deku spin around faster than a bullet, terror etched in every line of his face. Scared for him. Bah, stupid Deku. I'm not just gonna stand back and watch you go.
The devil in a suit smiled predatorily down at him. "Yes, young Bakugou?"
For a second, the terror in Deku's face and the killing intent in his old man's froze Katsuki's tongue. But he wouldn't be a coward anymore. Not for this guy. Not when Deku needed him.
"If he doesn't show up to the exams tomorrow, I'll tell the heroes. Got me?"
Whatever kindness there was in All for One's body language melted away immediately into anger, and Deku grabbed his father's arm as if he could restrain the massive man. All for One's once kind, mocking smile turned to a patronizing sneer.
"Tell them what? Exactly?"
Katsuki sneered right back at him. "I know about you. And if I don't see Deku tomorrow, so will they."
"Dad, no, he doesn't—"
All for One stopped Izuku with a simple look that had Katsuki's blood boiling. Not even he could get the nerd to be quiet, the nerd was always talking, but one look from his old man and Deku got scary silent.
Then those eyes turned to him. Angry. Lethal. Like staring at a cobra up close. He refused to back down, but you couldn't help but flinch at the power radiating off the man.
"Oh, you will see him tomorrow," the villain promised. "He will take his exam. And then you will not ask to see him again."
Deku's dad gave both boys a chilling smile. "See, Izuku needs to spend time with his sick mother, and we have to travel to see her. School would be out of the question, at least until he starts high school. After all, he needs to focus on family right now. Don't you think, Izuku? Family always comes first."
That phrase seemed to make Izuku even more upset, which Katsuki didn't even know was possible. How did you make someone who looked as defeated as Deku too afraid to even blink? This was Deku, the same Deku who used to aggravate him and argue with him over how he treated all the extras, but now he looked two feet tall and ready to keel over if Katsuki even looked at him funny. This bastard had done that to him. It took every bit of his willpower not to activate an explosion and blast the smug bastard's face right off.
"Fine."
The man patronizing smile was something so vile he could taste it, like battery acid. He wanted to gag. "Such an understanding friend. Well, we best be going. Come along, Izuku."
Deku wasn't moving, he realized. Instead, he was staring at Katsuki with ever-growing fear in his eyes. The villain he called father tried to corral him towards the stairs, but Izuku didn't move until his father grabbed his arm. When that powerful hand clasped Izuku's arm, the 14-year-old snapped out of his daze and immediately fought his grip ferociously.
"Wait!"
Izuku struggled from his father's grip and ran to Katsuki. He stepped back at the sudden approach, but Izuku forcibly grabbed his hand with his own shaky grip. Green eyes implored him.
"Kacchan, I need your permission," Deku pleaded hurriedly. "Let me use this quirk on you, please, please. Quickly."
He nodded dumbly, not sure what Deku was planning. The nerd smiled a grateful, tearful smile before closing his eyes and bowing over Katsuki's hand.
"Izuku!" The devil called angrily. "Stop this!"
Then, soft as a cherry blossom landing on his hand, Izuku placed a feathery kiss to his palm. The chosen hand tingled, burned, even, as Deku pulled away. It was like a flash freezing of all the nerves in his hand from Deku's kiss outward.
In the palm of his hand, and amidst the flash of feeling, a tattoo emerged. It looked like a star bursting on his palm, almost like one of his explosions. If he looked closely it was actually closer to a compass; the points were even and symmetric, beautiful. What the hell kind of quirk is this?
Izuku looked at him pleadingly, begging for some kind of forgiveness for what he did.
"It will let me know that you're safe," he whispered apologetically. Deku's tiny hands gently lay around his, plaintive and delicate even though Katsuki could see the desperation in his face. "I won't let dad hurt you."
"Izuku."
The dangerous supervillain loomed over the boys, blue eyes sharp and filled with a bloodlust that Katsuki had never seen before. Deku was spooked. He jumped at the glacial tone and ran, but not before Katsuki could see the terror in the green gems of Deku's eyes. Katsuki himself was paralysed. He couldn't do anything as Deku grabbed his dad by the expensive suit jacket and dragged him away.
Every few feet, Deku looked back at him as if he was telling him to run, to worry, to get help.
Well, he would.
Katsuki felt cold when Deku finally dragged his father from view, but he didn't linger. He ran to the restroom and cursed a couple of kids out of there, letting them scurry out of there with their pants around their ankles before locking the door closed behind them.
He was angry. Staring at the ink on his palm was a new level of frustrating, a permanent reminder of what was wrong. Damn it, Deku, I don't need you protecting me when you're the one in trouble! He should be angry to have a tattoo. No one took pros seriously with ink, not unless that was their quirk. You couldn't even go to an onsen with ink. But he wasn't mad about it. Deku had put it there to protect him, the bastard. After everything Deku had been through, he'd still put Katsuki first. Seeing the tattoo on his hand was like seeing Deku look at him like he had a million times, with those springtime eyes wide in admiration, and telling him, "I love you, Kacchan."
His throat clenched with his fist. He could feel his eyes get wet and growled in frustration to keep them at bay. Damn it. Heroes don't cry. Heroes weren't weak. He wasn't weak.
What he needed was to tell UA what was going on, but there's no way they'd take a call from a kid the day before exams. They probably had every kid in Japan trying to prove themselves, they wouldn't listen to a kid crying 'villain'. He needed another hero to get into contact with them. His phone was out and by his ear in a second.
"Brat, what are you doing calling in the middle of school?! What happened?! Are you skipping class?!"
He shoved down the relief he felt from his mom's voice and focused on his mission. "I'm in the bathroom. Look, you've got the number to your boss's hero office, right?"
There was silence for a second.
"Katsuki, why do you need to talk to Best Jeanist in the middle of school?"
Katsuki gulped. He hated it, but his folks couldn't know the whole story. His mind flashed to Christmas, when Deku had shown up in tears, holding him like he was the only one keeping the nerd together. To this morning, when he had looked up at him with jade eyes filled to the brim with pain. To just now, when he had fell limply in step with his old man at the simple mention of his mom. Deku had needed him. Deku still needed him.
"Look, it's not about me, alright? It's damn Deku. Just, I need the number. Don't make me beg."
He could hear his mom shuffling things over the phone, she was probably at work right then.
"Katsuki," his mother sounded level-headed for the first time in a long time, "is he in trouble? If he's in trouble, we need to call the police."
Katsuki swallowed against the dryness in his throat. He hated this. He hated asking for help. He hated telling his mom.
"Don't you think I can tell the difference, hag?" He ground out. "Deku doesn't need the cops, this is bigger than that. Will you just give me the damn number?"
There was a beat, a pause. "Katsuki, are you in trouble too?"
His first instinct was to say no. But his mind couldn't forget the murder in All for One's eyes as he looked at him. It was like staring at a wolf before the feast, all danger and bloodlust. He couldn't forget the way Deku was holding him back. "I've always tried to protect you." "I won't let dad hurt you."
Deku's dad knew how he used to treat him.
Deku's dad knew that he knew about the villain stuff.
And Deku had already held him back before.
I could take him, rebuffed Katsuki's mind viciously. But…that didn't mean he wasn't in trouble. And he couldn't lie to the hag.
"Katsuki," his mother was moving again, this time he could hear the jingle of keys, "I'm coming to get you, okay? We'll handle this together."
Hang on, Deku, Katsuki thought to the star in his hand, I'm gonna save you. I won't stand back and watch you get hurt anymore.
His father's silence was the most terrifying sound in the world. It pounded into his mind and forced every worry to the surface, exactly as father intended. The silence meant hurt. The silence meant a rift between them. And the silence, usually, meant death.
It certainly didn't help that Kurogiri was glaring at him with the force a million sun's going supernova.
"Is-is mom okay?" Izuku dared to ask, earning a corresponding glare from his father. "Please?"
His father's fingers drummed the armrest. Menacing in their regularity. His father was thinking hard, his blue eyes focused on Izuku like he was a puzzle to solve.
"Your mother," All for One drawled, "is the same as she has always been. Happily living her life away from here. No, she was only an excuse so your school would allow your discontinued enrollment."
Izuku shut his mouth even as inside his heart sank. With pursed lips, his father leaned back in his seat. He had hoped, maybe, maybe he would see her. Just for a moment. Even if it would just establish his father's power, a moment would have been enough. Another impossible hope.
It wasn't mother that All for One wanted to talk to him about, though.
"You have such a good friend, don't you?"
The words were soft, coaxing, but all it did was send warning shivers down his spine. He didn't speak. He couldn't. Defending Kacchan would hurt him and denying their friendship would kill him. His father gave him a small, cold smile.
"Such a good friend that you used Tag on him. That you told him all about yourself."
Izuku shook his head. "No, dad. I didn't—"
"And of course, he would worry about the entrance exam," his father chuckled darkly, "since he's been preparing with you all these months."
"No, dad, listen—!" Izuku pleaded, moving to touch his father.
"I thought you knew better than to lie to me, Izuku."
That stopped him mid-phrase, the lies on the tip of his tongue. Right. You didn't lie to dad. His arm, once outstretched, dropped limply to his side.
"Tell me the truth," his father ordered with a fierce scowl. "Is that boy the classmate you've been training with?"
"… Yes."
That was the right answer, apparently, since his father's stern face slackened and his arms opened invitingly to Izuku. It felt like a trap, a way to lure him into the quicksand of his father's embrace where he would never emerge until given the lifeline by the man who pushed him into the sinking sands. Yet Izuku had no choice but to accede.
He stepped forward and fell into his father's arms, letting the hug close in on him. He didn't know what he won for giving the correct response, but whatever it was it felt like a loss already. He pressed into his father's warmth, hoping beyond hope to placate him with the familiar gesture.
"See?" All for One cooed, petting Izuku's hair fondly. "Was it so hard to be honest, Izuku? It's so obvious now. All the rebellion. All the lies. I had wondered who on earth could be so important to you that you would risk such terrible behaviour, but then you've always been a little weak for this boy, haven't you?"
"Dad, no," Izuku pleaded and clutched his father's shirt, begging with his body language since he couldn't get down on his knees. "He isn't a bad influence—he's my friend!"
The gentle pet of his hair stopped and his father gripped it, warning him away from any defense of Kacchan. Izuku couldn't help the whimper that escaped at the harsh tug on his roots. His healing quirks leapt to his defense to keep those hairs in his head.
"Naturally," his father chuckled, voice low and dark and deadly. It felt like a dark cloud, so dense Izuku couldn't breath. "Katsuki is just a friend. A friend who you think it's necessary to Tag, just to protect him from me."
A thoughtful tap of his father's finger on scalp. Izuku shuddered.
"A friend who bullied you."
Tap.
"Who looked down on you."
Tap.
"Who hurt you."
Tap.
"Who burned you."
Tap.
"Who you have decided is more important than your family."
No! Izuku grabbed his father in terror and guilt.
"Dad, no!" he pleaded. "It's not like that. It's not! You're the most important person to me, you've always been the most important person in my life!"
His father glowered. "I don't feel that way right now."
Izuku's mouth snapped shut in the face of his father's ire. What will he do? How will he make me prove it? What will I have to do?
"I should kill the boy right now," he said so cavalierly, even though those words felt like liquid nitrogen in his veins. "It would certainly prevent this from happening again."
"It won't!" Izuku promised desperately. "I made a mistake, but it wasn't Kacchan's mistake, it was mine. You're still the most important person to me, dad."
"Yet you still did this," his father continued his slow tapping, like a ticking clock ready to go off, "See, you didn't just disobey me, you also attacked Kurogiri. All just to meet this boy who you see every day at school. I don't understand, Izuku, I don't understand it at all."
That's because it wasn't only about Kacchan, Izuku thought fearly. I can't let him guess the answer. An explanation, any explanation, why can't I think of anything?!
"Izuku," his father's voice coaxed, "is there something else to this? Are you hiding things from me?"
Izuku reached for something that he could logically use but came up with nothing. He could only shake his head, even as his father's face got graver and graver.
"Nothing at all, hmm?" rumbled in his chest. "You have nothing to say that justifies your actions?"
He had nothing. All he could do was shake his head pitifully into his father's chest.
"I see."
The disappointment and upset in his dad's voice, like he had let him down completely, was like being dunked in a cold lake.
"I can't let this go, Izuku. You clearly do not trust me and you have made it clear that I should not trust you. All of this after your horrendous display a few weeks ago and now I don't know what to do with you," his father rumbled discontentedly.
No… Izuku clung to his father desperately to stave off the inevitable.
"First and foremost—since Katsuki's influence is so destructive—you will not be returning to school. I don't want to see you anywhere near that boy."
Izuku's heart clenched, but still he nodded. He knew that. He was to be imprisoned with only his father and his lackeys for company. It meant he wouldn't see Kacchan past the entrance exam, not until either UA started or his father was in prison. He could handle that, though. It would be worth it just to get rid of the sick feeling in his stomach.
"Second, you will need to make up for your despicable treatment of Kurogiri. Chores. Under his direct supervision."
That was fine. Izuku liked chores well enough. But Kurogiri's glare told him it would not be pleasant. Bathroom duty was inevitable.
"Tomura will watch over you as well, during those times," his father added, making Izuku shudder, "because we clearly cannot trust you not to attack your uncle."
"I-I wouldn't," Izuku warbled. He cast his eyes to the corner where Kurogiri stood impassively. "I'm sorry, ojisan, I didn't want to. I just…you wouldn't let me…"
"I'm going to forbid a great many more things," his father intoned lowly, the dark in his voice chilling Izuku to his bones. "Who is to say you won't lash out at those restrictions? You will have to earn our trust again, Izuku."
He nodded despondently. If that was all, if those were the only things, he could handle it, he thought, scrunching his uniform jacket in his hands. But it wouldn't be the only thing. Izuku knew there would be more.
His father tapped his head again. "And since Kurogiri is such a lax guardian for you, I will be taking over the role. Izuku, Kurogiri can have your help for an hour or two a night, but the rest of the time I want you by my side. You're old enough to stay with me during my work, especially now that school is no longer an issue. That means you will be coming with me for all my work. You have resisted involvement in the less savoury parts of our work, but that ends now. You must learn to appreciate what we do. Including our work with Kyudai."
Dr. Garaki. Izuku felt his gag reflex kick in, nausea bubbling in his throat. He hated working with his father's only friend, the mad scientist who always smelt of artificial amniotic fluid and blood. He hated watching Garaki dissect quirks. He hated seeing the nomu, hated feeling all their quirks put together. They didn't scream, like many quirks, but they were almost eerily silent. All their life was gone when they were merged like they were mere corpses of quirks. It made the horror of them even more terrifying.
But he could do it. He could put on a happy face and smile through his father's work. He could do it for mother. For Kacchan.
"Yes, it has been a while since you've been interested in the biological composition of quirks," his father chuckled, light and happy, like he wasn't talking to Izuku about playing with dead people. "It's time for you to get that spark you used to have back and in the process prove that you care about this family by aiding in our work. Tomura has a specific Nomu he wants, so we'll see about you helping with its construction."
What? Izuku pulled back from his father's embrace, only to get pulled back and locked in this time with his father's sadistic grin staring down at him. "Yes, that would be a wonderful way to make up for your poor behaviour. You did such an expert job last time, I think Kyudai is looking forward to working with you again. You have such an eye for compatible quirks; it would be a shame not to cultivate that talent."
He felt sick. That was the worst punishment. Not just watching people die, not just taking their quirks.Nomu. Making nomu. Just to prove myself to dad. Helping him make his soldiers. Tsubasa. Loud Cloud.
His dad leaned down and pressed them closer, cheek to cheek so his mouth rested right by Izuku's ear. He repressed the shiver that threatened to overcome him.
"Oh, Izuku," All for One murmured softly, "this doesn't have to be a punishment. Think of it as an opportunity. I just want to help you, train you to be better, teach you what a good influence is and get rid of those bad influences. This is a way to show me you're sorry. It's a way to prove that you will listen to me. You won't be untrusted forever, Izuku. I just want to know that you will always put your family first. That's all I want. That's all it will take. I only want you to understand that nothing is more valuable than what we have. Not Katsuki. Not training. Not heroism. Nothing comes before you in my life."
Izuku swallowed harshly. "I'm sorry, I really am. It-it wasn't worth it."
It wasn't. All Might's rejection was still fresh, his heart stinging. Was it worth it to tell him when this is what happened? When it put Kacchan in danger? When it ended with All Might hating him? When he'd have to tear apart people and force together quirks to create nomu just to make up for it? When his father now thought he hated him? He should have never gone.
In the midst of his brooding, his father smiled down at him, eyes lighter than they were before and much more forgiving.
"I'm glad you understand, Izuku." His father pet his hair, affection that told of forgiveness to come. "We don't want this to happen again, do we?"
"No, dad."
"If it does," the sudden threat in his voice stilled Izuku, "you'll force my hand. I can't let bad influences ruin your life, son. It is better to remove them completely once they become issues, don't you think? I warn you, I will not be blackmailed by a little tattoo."
No, no, no, no, no!
"If-if nothing happens," Izuku looked up at his father, earnest and pleading something inside of him to promise him this, at least once, "if I make it up to you, do you promise Kacchan won't be hurt? You won't hurt him, or send anyone else to hurt him?"
He would make nomu, he would take any and all quirks, he would do anything if it meant the one person in the world who thought he was good lived. Kacchan was the only one who believed in him, he couldn't lose him!
His father didn't look happy at the inquiry, eyes narrowing just a tiny bit. "I don't like how you phrased that, son. Are you saying that you will disobey me if you didn't get your way?"
Izuku clenched his fists. "No, I-I'm saying that hurting Kacchan would hurt me. Do you promise not to hurt me, dad?"
Wow. Izuku had stunned himself with his words, the blatant honesty in them, the manipulation, the emotion. He ... he had just told his father he was hurting him. What would he do?
All for One's eyes were dark and his voice too light to be sincere. Every too-perfect feature screamed danger. "This obviously means a lot to you."
An idea popped into his head, and Izuku nodded frantically. "Yes, please dad. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about him, but I knew you didn't like him and he's-he's my only friend. Like you and Dr. Garaki, right? He believes in you, you like him? Please, I couldn't stand it if something happened to him. I couldn't."
The comparison between Dr. Garaki and Kacchan was a disturbing one, but giving his father that example seemed to soothe him. If it was a precedent his father had set, then he couldn't strictly oppose it, after all. The tension in his father's body shifted higher and away from Izuku.
Finally, All for One gave a lengthy, long-suffering sigh. "Very well. I promise no harm will come to the boy. I suppose there's no need, really, if you're removed from his influence. In fact …" That pause never meant anything good. A dangerous light re-entered his father's eyes, a delight that only came from a truly ingenious thought. "Yes, I think I will go one further. Since he is so dear to you, I will ensure he is kept safe. A gift for you. Does that make you happy?"
Tucked into his father's arms, Izuku felt small. Reliant. Vulnerable. He knew his father never broke his word. But he certainly didn't think Kacchan would be left alone. He wouldn't be killed, definitely, and that made him happy, and no permanent harm per his father's wording, but that didn't mean quirks were off the table. That's why seeing the tattoo on Kacchan's skin, as horrible as it was to mark his precious hands, had reassured him so much. Anything to keep him safe.
"Thank you, dad."
Dad looked at him with a sadness he had no idea he could express.
"Even now, you care so much about someone else and you fight me," his father said. "Oh, Izuku, why is it so hard for you to trust me?"
That last line was whispered so softly that Izuku almost missed it. His father folded around him and pressed them as close as he could, as if the intimacy would fuse them together like two hydrogen nuclei in a star. The sudden softness made his breath hitch and his heart bleed.
"You know that I would do anything to make you happy," Dad murmured softly into his hair. "I love you more than anything. Why won't let me make you happy? Is it...that you no longer love me, treasure?"
That one sentence was like a white-hot poker in Izuku's gut. Whatever his plans were, this was the worst thing he could imagine. His dad looked devastated, a forlorn look in his face and a desperation to his hold. This wasn't what was supposed to happen! Dad wasn't supposed to think that, not for a second! All for One was always so assured that Izuku couldn't properly process how vulnerable he was being with him. Tears drew to his eyes and Izuku threw himself into his father's embrace, holding him with the same fervour his father was using for him.
"No! Never! I love you so much, dad," Izuku pleaded desperately. The hurt had his eyes stinging in self-loathing and sadness. "Please, I don't want you to ever think that. I won't stop loving you, not matter what. You mean the world to me. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I nev-never meant for you to feel that way. I never wanted to hurt you. Please, don't be mad."
He let his tears fall and buried his face into his father's shoulder.
One large hand stroked Izuku's hair soft, as if worried that a tender touch would hurt him.
"It's alright, Izuku, it's okay," All for One sighed as his hand carded through Izuku's hair. "You know I can't stay mad at you. You're my son. I love you more than anything else in this world. I just wish that you could appreciate all that I do for you. I've done everything I could to make you happy, and this rebellion feels like you're taking all the things I've ever done for you and casting them aside."
Izuku stifled his sob in his father's chest. He knew this all already, he knew that his dad was trying his hardest to be a good dad. Why couldn't he be okay with that? Why couldn't someone else take his feelings and let him be the ignorant, loyal son that would make his dad happy? Why couldn't dad be good? Why did they have to be so different when they loved each other?
"Do you want to make me happy, Izuku?" his father asked, and he nodded desperately in response. Please. I don't want to feel like this. "All I want is for you to listen to me. To trust that I know what's best for you."
His sob had his father cupping his face to brush a few tears away with the down-soft pads of his thumbs. "I hate having to do this, but it is my duty of as a good father to correct you when you need it. You've hurt me, Izuku. Terribly. So take your punishment without complaint and understand that it's not to hurt you, treasure. Everything I do is for the best. Even when I punish you, it's only to help you."
"I," Izuku choked on the terrifying words, "I know, dad. I'm sorry. I know I deserve it; I won't complain."
His father pulled him back from his chest, sniffling and trying to dry his eyes on his shirt. All for One pressed a soft, cold kiss to Izuku's forehead.
He spent the rest of the morning doing his chores, but after that he spent all the time he could being close to his father. Was it because he felt guilty or because he wanted to appease him? Izuku didn't know. He didn't even know if it was because he wanted to. But, swallowed in his melancholy, he stuck to dad's side. His dad didn't mind at all; he seemed just as eager to have Izuku there with him, holding him and hugging him as if to smother him in love after punishing him so severely.
They played with quirks, visited Dr. Garaki, and didn't spend even a moment apart. When the time came for bed, All for One took him not to his own room, but to his dad's, where he saw that all of his things had been moved to his father's room again as if they had never lived anywhere else. His notebooks were on the shelves, his walnut dresser against the wall, his academic trophies all neatly displayed on the shelves.
His heart sank. It had only been a year ago that he had earned a room of his own, a space away from his father. Now it was gone. At least when Kurogiri was babysitting him, he still had some independence. No more. No more privacy. No more breathing room.
As he slept in his father's arms that night, he knew that small freedom wouldn't be coming back no matter how much trust he earned. His father loved him like this, loved having him close, and the way his father tucked him in, crowded him, pressed kisses to his forehead only showed him how his father had missed it. He hated being there, but he felt so guilty in the face of his father's care that he could only passively accept all of what was happening to him.
Whenever he even thought of protesting, a flash of irritation in his father's face reminded him of exactly what was on the line—Kacchan. Or he'd catch a sad expression flit across his father's countenance that made his stomach clench with guilt. It didn't matter what motivated him because he sank into his father's wishes with no resistance. He didn't resist when his father monitored his evening bathroom break. He didn't resist when he was dressed like a child by his father. He didn't have it in him.
And when his father pulled him to his warm chest, praising him for "acting like a good boy again," all he could do was let a few tears trickle down his cheeks