hero's shadow // mha

83) bite warnings

Sometimes Shouta wonders if he still occupies space in his mother's mind.

He never hated her. And he thinks she never hated him. There was just never enough time shared between them for any hate to begin with. They were never close, even when Shouta was very young. He can't even say they grew apart, as they were never fused together in the first place.

Maybe Shouta held some resentment for her in his teen years, back when he was in middle school and was inwardly searching and begging for any kind of emotional connection and support. But that resentment stopped pretty early on when he went to high school.

Because then Shouta found those emotional connections elsewhere.

His father, although similarly cold and unapproachable, was better for the most part. He cared, and Shouta knew it. There was never a doubt in his mind that his father cared a lot for him. But he just never showed it, so it was hard for Shouta to think very highly of him.

His parents didn't hurt him. They were competent, and they did their job of raising him. But that's where the line in their relationship ends.

Shouta views his mother and father as just that—parents.

His mother made it clear she didn't want anything to do with him after she found out about his partnership with Hizashi, not because of any bigoted ideals, but because she simply didn't like him and thought he was rather childish.

Case in point, Shouta always knew that his parents didn't quite understand him. There was a wall between them, unable to be broken down, and an even larger gap expanding their distance. Because of this, Shouta matured pretty quickly by himself.

At the time, he didn't find an issue with this. It's what formed his rational mindset. Besides, he preferred independence to being monitored heavily.

But at this very moment, he's beginning to realize that maybe their methods of dealing with him have fundamentally screwed him over in the long run, because here he is, holed up in a dim room with an aching body and a sleeping teenager, and he doesn't know what to do next.

What is the protocol for this? When the child you've taken in after watching over for months beforehand admits in the middle of a heart wrenching breakdown that he was abused horrifically by the very same person who should've been the one protecting him? What could you even say to that?

"I didn't want them," Izuku repeats, again and again, and Shouta feels horror settle across every square inch of his battered skin.

God, no one will ever be able to knock the wind out of Shouta again, not like that. Not like Izuku did.

Now, Shouta knew Izuku's father was a villain, or at least a criminal of some kind, but he just didn't know the extent of it. How could he? It was always clear to Shouta that Izuku had been heavily mistreated and hurt, and he figured it was due to his father—either from his absence or presence—but this?

Suddenly, Shouta can understand Izuku's struggles in admitting the details of his past now. It must've been hell to live through it, so Shouta can't imagine how hard retelling the story to others must be.

Especially when the threat of that abuser still hangs over you.

Shouta closes his eyes and leans his head back against the wall, keeping his hold on Izuku tight. Very shortly after promising to give more details later about how exactly he acquired his quirks, Izuku passed out. He's still leaning against Shouta, breathing shallow but steady, and the storm is still raging outside.

Allowing himself just a few more minutes to recuperate and wrap his head around the situation, Shouta thinks hard about his early life with his parents. When he had an issue, or when he was upset and feeling vulnerable, how did they handle it? He can't recall. Actually, did he ever really go to them with those issues? Maybe he didn't. Maybe that's why he's feeling so uncomfortable right now.