Hisashi gives and gives and gives. He pours his heart into every thing he does. there is no limit, just an ever-deep never ending pit. Izuku looks at his father and wonders how he doesn't buckle under the weight of so many expectations. He wonders if in another life his father would've been the type of person the world would've named a hero. He wonders if he'll one day break and shatter.
He wonders.
He doesn't expect to see it.
——————————-
A pearly blue sky, wispy feathery clouds, the sun, bright and shining. It says hello, ever so cheery. Beautiful weather on an awful day. A breeze picks up leaves and swirls them around the headstone. A bird settles down on the freshly buried grave.
A grave his mother occupies.
Izuku's lips tremble, he's clenching at his father black suit pants. They're wearing matching clothes. His father sets his large, warm hand on his curls. It's just the 2 of them now.
Izuku and Pops.
Pops and Izuku.
Mom is forever gone and the words don't know how to fit into his brain. They're too big or maybe they're too ugly. A misshapen lump of letters pretending to be words.
Tears well up, he wants to smash the piece of rock that claims ownership to his mom. He wants to scream and yell and sob and, and, he just wants his Mom's hug. He wants her katsudon, he wants her laugh, he wants her to tell him over and over again how much she loves him.
But that time, on her hospital bed was the last time she'd said it. Izuku doesn't think he'll ever forget how small and tiny and fragile she looked in that too white room and the too white bed.
Not my usual style of writing but I think I like it so far
He wakes up slowly, like a boat gently bobbing on a lake. He's sleep soft. A warm body is wrapped around him. Fluffy ginger hair tickles his nose and cheeks. He breathes in sunshine and lemon, Shouyou's shampoo that always seems to finish quicker than it should be- they both know it's Osamu who uses it, there's no one else who lives in the house. Shouyou always lingers to smell at his hair, it soothes some inner part of him to have his partner smell like himself. Osamu notices and continues using it, and neither of them comment on how they go from buying 2 different shampoos to just the one.
Sunlight streams in. The rays wrap themselves around the two entangled figures. It licks their bare arms and shoulders with its heat. Osamu lies there, hand in his lover's hair as his thumbs smooth the folds of skin that furrow Shouyou's face. He watches the sun sparkle off Shouyou's hair and light up the freckles that are scattered over his arms. he watches and wonders who else is so lucky as to have the sun itself in their bed.
No one else, surely.
It's 5am, I should be asleep but this wanted OUT. So, I'll leave you with a little thought.
It is BNHA, set in post-canon au, in which Izuku never lost his powers and has climbed to the number one spot.
He's a young man. He's famous, stepping out of his home without proper thought into his outfit will lead to him surrounded by a crowd of people wanting his signature/picture. He loves being a hero and saving people. But the fame is something he could do without.
He can't shop peacefully. He can't just go for a stroll. He can't just date whoever he wants. He can't head to a bar and pick up people like he did when he'd just graduated from UA. And it's frustrating.
He's pent up.
He needs to either throw someone around or be thrown.
And this is where his fan boy skills come in clutch once again.
Izuku loves heroes. He always has, but when he turned five, and six, and seven, and still remained quirkless- the same people who used to coo at his dream of being a hero could only look at him with pity. Pity so deep small Izuku would be tempted to gouge their eyes out because he'd soon face reality, according to them.
But Izuku loved heroes. More so than others. He collected their figurines, their signatures, their merch, their interviews, their training plans, their- you get the point, don't you? Izuku collected any thing hero, basically.
The day he found the existence of cosplay was a monumental day in his life. Izuku could not only support his heroes but he could BE them. And so he threw himself into learning how to sew, how to apply makeup and wigs. How to look like someone not him. And for one day, for a few hours, he wasn't Deku, he wasn't his Mom's helpless little baby Izuku.
No.
He was only one of thousands of people milling the convention. He gushed over heroes, he connected with people, they gave him advice, and he shared cool facts they hadn't known.
Izuku is, at last, just Izuku.
And he loves it.
His makeup becomes on point. His wigs look so much more realistic. He starts to love making clothes.
And he even briefly dreams of opening his own clothing store. Selling only costumes and altering services.
He dreams.
He wishes.
Of course, fate doesn't agree with him and throws a wrench in his life just when he's started to smile again.
And then, Bakugo tells him to jump off the roof- the Sludge villain forces itself into his throat- he almost dies- All Might saves him-and proceeds to shatter that tightly held dream he had
(yeah, a lot happens)
The one he hadn't mentioned in years.
He stomps all over it and leaves him on a high roof.
Izuku then saves Bakugo, because how else do you thank your bully by jumping into reckless situations for them? (yes, my darling is aware he has a confusing jumble of feelings for his old childhood friend)
All Might then finds him and offers him his quirk.
And wasn't that what he wanted all his life whatofhisclothingshop?
And suddenly, quietly, his dream to sew and share the joys of cosplaying with others disappears like it was never there. His sewing machine is put into a box and shoved under his bed, along with his wigs, his costumes, and his makeup bags.
All shoved out of his sight. And therefore, out of mind.
And so years later, as he climbs up the ranks, each rise, each speech of thanks he gives at a podium, he begins to hate the attention of the press more and more. Izuku is a hero, first and foremost. He saves people, he argues with his assistant.
"Did All Might being on TV not assure you?"
Izuku can't even disagree with that.
He stumbles upon those old boxes in his apartment one morning.
He's off that day, as ordered by his assistant. No, of course he isn't sulking about! He's home, alone, with nowhere to be and no one to see because his friends are working like he was supposed to be.
And the idea swirls around his brain for a few hours, he mulls it over. A cheeky grin slides onto his face, his assistant said Izuku couldn't cause any scandals, he just...needs to not be Izuku.
He loves it.
He used to be good at cosplay, there's no way he couldn't pick it up again, right?
Hours pass, and in front of his mirror, sits a black-haired man. His face is void of freckles, and his eyes are a honey-brown. He has a slightly broader nose, lower cheekbones, and earrings on.
He heads out that night not as Izuku but as Isamu-kun.... Take that, Kento-san!
