#presentdad

Ajdjjshsn Y E S just all the parental Mic okay.

Izuku was born with three names. One on their left and two on their right.

Their mom hated all three of them.

“Those are boy names, Izuku,” She hissed at them, scrubbing a cloth over their right wrist even though it was long past red and raw. “Two of them!”

Like Izuku could have stopped them from forming. Like they hadn’t already been printed on their skin from the moment they were born. Like Izuku had asked for Tokoyami Fumikage and Aoyama Yuuga to be their soulmates before they were even out of the womb. (They knew that most of it was their mother’s insistence that she had a son not a child. Knew that I’d it had been two girl’s names on their wrist that a lot of the anger, of the time spent rubbing their wrists in the vain attempt to rub the not ink straight off, would have been avoided all together)

It was their left wrist that was the bigger problem in her eyes. Two words in the green-gray ink of an incomplete parental bond. A damnation, in their mother’s eyes, agaisnt the parents Izuku had been born to, for all that one had left and the other… well the other was her.

‘Yamada Hizashi’.

There were times, when Izuku was alone late at night while their mother was working at the hospital curled under their All Might blanket and listening to the sound of Present Mic’s voice from their cracked phone, that they wished Hizashi would find them. Would take them away from this place forever. Would make sure they didn’t have to be alone and would hold them when they cried and wouldn’t rub their wrists raw before covering them in too tight bandages.

(Alone on a rooftop with sludge rattling in their lungs and their heart spiked into the street far below by a man they had idolized, Izuku wished for Hizashi so hard that it hurt.)

They had all but given up on that dream by the time they walked into UA for their entrance exam. All but given up hope of their platonic soulmate ever finding them. (They were nearly sixteen now, after all. What use was a parental bond if they were already an adult when it was formed?)

Then the Zero pointer happened. Then Izuku shattered both legs and their right arm. Then Present Mic ran to them with terror in their green eyes and Izuku’s name on their lips.

Most heroes didn’t publicize their civilian names, but as a teacher Present Mic would have seen their application.

Which was how Izuku found themself healed and wrapped in a too big hoodie in one of the offices in the main building only a few minutes later. Present Mic, Hizashi Yamada, frowned down at their phone as it went to voicemail again.

“I told you she wouldn’t answer. She’s at work.”

“Listener, you powdered three of your limbs. I don’t care if she’s on the damn moon.”

They ended up going home with Hizashi and their husband (“Just call me Shouta, kid. None of that formality from my spouse’s child.”) their mom calls the police on them for kidnapping the next morning despite the dozens of phone calls and texts left ignored and the formal notice filed through the PYHU agency that outlines a clear case of child abandonment and acknowledgment that as the parental soulmate Hizashi is well within their rights to act as Izuku’s guardian if their mother is not available.

There, sitting in the Yamazawa living room with a cat on their lap and a detective in a trench coat looking at them with sad eyes, Izuku decides they’re tired of wishing. Tired of waiting for someone to save them. They decide that maybe it’s time that they save themself.

“She hurt me.”

“True.” The detective responds immediately. His quirk not allowing him to do anything else.

“She abandoned me.”

“True.”

“I want to stay here.”