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riahlynn101 · 1 year

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"The Caretaker's Keeper" (1).

Summary: Based on a prompt from GoofyBoss about All for One hiring Izuku as a caretaker for his brother.

Trigger warnings: Trigger warnings: child abandonment, swearing, All for One being his usual creepy, possessive self, implied/referenced murder, and implied self-harm - nothing graphic but please don't risk your mental health to read this. I'm always more than happy to give people a TL;DR if they're curious and want to avoid triggering topics.

Chapter 1

Izuku taps a pen to his bottom lip, thinking. Some would say looking through the newspaper for jobs was old fashioned, but usually the job offers put out into the paper didn’t ask for much information on the person they’re hiring.

The last job he got was as a delivery person, though he still doesn’t know what he delivered from one side of the city to the other. And he doesn’t want to know. His employer for that particular job kept to themselves and only spoke to Izuku long enough to, one, give vague threats to not tell anyone, and two, to give Izuku a wad of cash. Which helped pay for groceries for the upcoming week.

Ever since his deadbeat father left them, citing some excuse about “needing to find himself,” because “Izuku is clearly not his,” his poor mom has had to take on extra shifts at her job at the local hospital, as well as picking up a second job as a receptionist for a dental office.

It makes him unspeakably angry.

How was it fair that his father could continue his life, unbothered, when both his mom and Izuku were struggling to get by?

They downsized, moving from the apartment he knew all his life to a one-bedroom apartment on the sketchier side of the city. His mom tried to give him the bedroom, but he couldn’t bring himself to take his mom’s last comfort away from her. She thought the same way, just in the opposite direction, so they compromised. On the days she had to work a double, Izuku could have the bed (at least on the doubles she worked overnight). And on the nights, she was home, Izuku would refuse to step foot in the bedroom (lest his mom somehow convince him to take the bed, while she took the floor or couch). She needed rest, and Izuku would be damned if he didn’t make sure she got it.

Even worse than being forced to relocate from his childhood home-and maybe this is childish of him-was him having to sell his merch collection. His mom didn’t ask that of him, but at the time he hadn’t been able to work (being only eleven).

He felt useless (just as Kacchan always said he was).

So, he decided to pawn anything of value.

He still attends Aldera, though now he has to get up even earlier and ride the city bus. The other kids make fun of him - thankfully (and he uses that word loosely) still only for his quirklessness. Either they have no idea he’s been knocked down a class or two, or they don’t care about that.

Kacchan, to his credit, has backed off (to some extent). But every so often he’ll corner Izuku, and do his usual spiel on all the ways Izuku's useless, worthless, and can’t possibly become a hero.

And, while it hurts to admit, Izuku agrees with him.

Not because he’s quirkless, but because even if he does get in, he won’t be able to afford to attend. There are scholarships, but none of them would be nearly enough. So, he spares himself the emotional pain of almost making it (or being straight-up rejected), and applies to an affordable, normal-enough highschool closer to their apartment.

After school, he browses through the daily newspaper, circling and highlighting jobs that look somewhat legit. He might be desperate, but he would very much like to not be kidnapped by some creep and kept in a basement.

“Huh, caretaker?” Izuku briefly skims the listing. It looks….simple enough.

He highlights the phone number.

-x-x-x-

Mikumo Atakani crosses off yet another name. He sighs heavily, leaning back in his swivel chair. How hard is it to find someone that is both authoritative enough to take care of his hard-headed little brother and pliant enough to do whatever he says?

A knock on his office door shakes him from his reverie.

He straightens up. “Come in,” he orders.

One of his minions-some nobody with a flexibility quirk-steps into his office. “Hello, master, another applicant for the job posting you put out is here.”

“Well? Bring them in. I don’t have all day.”

The minion nods frantically. It’s so fun to see them get so worked up. He hadn’t even threatened him.

A young boy with curly, green hair and green eyes is pushed into his office before the doors are once again shut.

“H-hello, sir.”

It might be rude of Mikumo, but he can’t stop staring at the boy in front of him. There’s something about him….

He snaps back to reality, realizing the boy is staring at him. He coughs to disguise his moment of absentmindedness. “Hello…..”

The boy trembles a little, fidgeting with his hands. “Midoriya Izuku….sir.”

He chuckles. “Let’s chat, Midoriya Izuku.”

-x-x-x-

Izuku is sure he has the wrong address. The house is about twenty miles outside the city, and has a tall wrought-iron gate surrounding the premises. There’s even a tower overlooking everything with people carrying weapons of all sorts.

His gut twists.

But his mom needs the money. And this job might even help her be able to quit her receptionist job. He knows she hates it there. Her boss is overtly misogynistic, and her coworkers are cruel. He’s heard her cry herself to sleep enough for a lifetime.

Izuku needs to do this. He owes it to the woman who has raised him (and continues to whenever she has the time).

He approaches the gate, still wearing his backpack (the only bus that could bring him this far ran twice a day - once at three in the afternoon, and once at ten at night). He at least remembered a change of clothes, so he doesn’t have to show up in his high school uniform. Though, his button-up dress shirt (the one thing his father forgot in his haste to abandon their family) and black slacks that he has to roll up to keep from stepping on the ends, aren’t much of an improvement. Especially when he still has his red sneakers on.

Someone shoves a gun in his face. “Identify yourself!”

“I-Izuku Midoriya! I called earlier about the job posting.” He holds his hands in front of his chest, trying desperately not to look at the gun dangerously close to his head.

The guard eyes him, muttering something into his com. They stand there for a moment, eyeing each other, before a garble reply comes through.

“Let him in.”

He’s led to a set of double, extra-tall, doors. The guard who accosted him outside confiscated his bag, so he has nothing on him. He was reassured by the person leading him inside that he would get it back after the interview.

The person-a much kinder-looking man with hair the color of a campfire-knocks on the door.

Idly, Izuku wonders what kind of quirk the man has. Something fire related? Those weren’t particularly rare. Hell, his own father has one.

Before he can ask, Izuku is pulled into the office. The person whispers good luck to him, scampering off.

A man behind a large oak desk. He’s…..

….tall.

Very tall, and suddenly, all the high shelves and doorways make sense.

“Hello, sir,” he says.

But the man just continues to stare at him.

Did he do something wrong? He fidgets with his hands - a nervous habit he’s never been able to break.

Finally, he speaks. “Hello…” The man raises an eyebrow, obviously expecting Izuku to introduce himself.

Oops! How could Izuku be so stupid!

He stands straight, forcing his arms to his sides. “Midoriya Izuku…..sir.”

The man leans in, the corners of his mouth uptick into a small smile. “Let’s chat, Midoriya Izuku.”

Izuku nods, staying put.

“Take a seat,” the man says, motioning to a chair in front of his desk.

“O-of course, sir.”

The minute he takes a seat, the man is back to staring at him in silence. Which makes Izuku feel a little awkward, but he’s not in any position to say so. He squirms in the chair.

“How old are you, Izuku-Kun?” He asks, which is a little forward. Most people don’t just use first names during a first meeting, but once again Izuku can’t say anything about it.

At least it’s better than Deku.

“Fifteen, sir. I’ll be sixteen in July.”

The man nods, jotting something down on the paper in front of him. “And what about your family? Tell me about them.”

Izuku clamps up. This person seems….very powerful. What if he messes up and they hurt his mom?

“You can trust me, Izuku-Kun. I only ask because the position requires you to take care of a family member of mine.”

That eases Izuku up just the tiniest bit. “I’m an only child and live with my mom.”

“No one else…?”

“No- uh…uh my father…he’s not around.” Izuku fights back the tears. One would think, after four years of this, he would be used to it. He isn’t.

If the man notices him tearing up, he says nothing. “Okay, and two more questions. One, what’s your quirk?”

In a voice more befitting for a mouse than a fifteen-year-old, Izuku says, “I’m….uh…quirkless.”

The man looks at him strangely-not the way others do (which is usually a mix of disgust and pity)-but in a way that indicates interest.

“Oh?”

“I-is that going to be a problem?”

“No.” The answer comes without hesitation. “I was simply curious. Last question, what made you want to apply?”

Izuku squirms. The chair he sits in dwarfs him, as does everything else in this house. It makes him feel….small.

He takes time to process what the man asked.

Why did he want to apply for this job? It was one of many job postings in the daily paper, there had been no information on what benefits he would be receiving, nor pay or the duration of how long he was to work. Just a small blurb about needing a “caretaker” and a phone number.

He took it on a whim.

He applied because someone hiring out for a caretaker likely has some money, and not the kind that’s handed off to him in a off-white envelope.

He applied because they’re short five hundred for this month’s rent (partially due to being short last month), and their landlord is starting to run out of patience.

He applied because his mom routinely works seventy-two hours straight with less than two hours of sleep.

“I didn’t want to apply, sir,” he says, summoning the courage to look the man in the eyes.

“Really now?”

“I needed to apply.”

“Do go on.”

Izuku takes that as permission to continue. “To put it bluntly, my mom works herself nearly to death to provide for us both. I find work where I can, but there’s not many places hiring a quirkless teen. Or a quirkless person in general.”

The man nods. “Family-oriented, good. Hypothetically speaking, what would you do if your mom was a danger to herself, or something was a danger to her?”

Izuku hums. It’s an odd question for sure, but he likes abstract questions (even if this particular one is kind of upsetting). “I suppose I would have to lock her in a room without sharp objects and padding on the walls. At least until the danger passed.”

“And what if it didn’t?”

“Then…I guess, she would stay there until it did. She’s all I have.”

The man smiles at him. “Hired.”

Izuku perks up, edging closer to the desk. “Really!?” In his excitement, his volume goes up more than is strictly necessary. He clears his throat. “Sorry, I got a little excited there.”

“That’s quite alright. I’d rather have someone be over-eager than someone reluctant.” He grabs a pile of papers off his desk, handing it over to Izuku. “Now, we’ll go over rules and expectations, as well as benefits and pay.”

Izuku looks over the papers.

“Starting with your pay. A thousand per day, but that can be more or less depending on the mood my…family member is in.”

That- that would be enough to cover rent, and that’s just for a single day? He finally processes the man’s last sentence.

“What does the last thing you said mean?”

“Well, my family member is….let’s just say finicky. He’s prone to going on hunger strikes, and trying to escape his room.” The man fixes Izuku with a serious expression. “Under no circumstances, are you to allow him to leave his room. Failure to comply with that rule will result in severe punishment. Failure to get him to eat a meal will result in lost wages. Three hundred per meal not eaten, so it would be in your best interest to make sure he eats.”

That certainly didn’t sound pleasant. But a thousand dollars a day…..

“Understood, sir.”

“What’s the soonest you can be here?”

“The bus runs at three, so probably four? And the last bus leaves around ten at night.”

“Hm. Well, I guess 4:15 to 9:45 is decent enough coverage.” He jots some more stuff on the paper. “Can you start today?”

-x-x-x-

Mikumo can’t believe his luck! This kid-Izuku-couldn’t be more perfect to help care for his stubborn little brother.

Yoichi may not take kindly to his goons. They’re Mikumo’s mouthpieces, there only to force him to eat, change his clothes, or go to sleep. But Izuku is different. Sure, he will be under Mikumo’s control (otherwise suffer the consequences), but knowing his brother, he’ll overlook that.

Oh, he’ll still try the same tired tricks. Things like, trying to make the guard feel bad. Or threatening to harm himself (ways in which he does so has varied throughout the two hundred years Yoichi’s been under his care). There has even been a time or two that he’s played dead.

Mikumo’s ashamed to say he’s fallen for that trick both times.

He exits the elevator taking them nearly a thousand meters below ground. After his brother escaped (with help) the last time, he’s been forced to take more “extreme” measures.

Clearly just keeping his brother in a vault in their basement wasn’t enough.

While designing this house, he made sure to make the vault deeper underground. And the only way to enter or exit is via elevator which is monitored closely, and the corridor is lined with motion-sensor cameras.

They stand before the vault door. It’s reinforced steel with tungsten in the very middle. Strong and will definitely stand up to any vigilantes, or heroes that may, or may not want to kick it open.

“Here we are,” he says, entering the necessary code into the panel. He then puts his thumb on the scanner. “I’ll have to give you the code and enter your prints into the system before you leave.”

The boy nods. His bright green eyes go between him and the door.

Awww, Mikumo thinks, opening the door the rest of the way. He’s nervous.

He ushers Izuku inside, lest his little brother get the drop on them and escape.

“Little brother,” he calls, shutting the door behind them. “I found you a new caregiver.”

The room is nicely furnished, at least in comparison to the last vault. Mostly due to the fact that he isn’t ever going to let Yoichi leave here. And he kind of likes his brother not being totally and utterly insane.

There’s a twin bed in the corner of the room, with a small nightstand right beside it. A desk for writing or drawing (when his idiot of a brother isn’t threatening self-harm), a bookshelf filled with books, and various supplies for arts and crafts (all of which Mikumo has to be present for, though now that could extend to Izuku if all goes well). There’s also a full bathroom in a connected room.

Izuku, whether he means to or not, clings to his side. He kind of reminds Mikumo of a frightened rabbit, or a little duckling (what, with his fluffy hair, wide, innocent eyes, and skittish demeanor).

His brother finally pops up from underneath the bed.

Izuku screams, jolting backwards.

Instantly, Yoichi is scrambling for the kid. He waves his hands frantically. “Ohmygoodness-”

“Little brother,” Mikumo says, pleased to be able to lure him out.

Yoichi fixes him with a sour look. “What do you want?”

“As I said, I hired a new caregiver.” He pulls Izuku closer to him by his shirt collar. “Introduce yourself,” he orders.

Izuku is still trembling but does as Mikumo says. “Midoriya Izuku.”

His brother tilts his head, hair falling over one of his eyes. “How old are you?”

Izuku looks up at him-and, oh, this one is definitely a keeper. He hands over control so easily. He’s practically wet sand, just waiting to be formed into something magnificent-and he nods his approval.

“I’m fifteen, sir.”

Yoichi’s eyes soften. “You-you’re so young.” He turns to Mikumo, snarling. “How dare you hire a child!”

“But I needed this job,” Izuku pipes up before Mikumo can defend himself. “My mom and I were going to be evicted if I didn’t find a better paying job.”

Once again, his little brother softens. “Oh.”

Mikumo claps his hands. “This is fun. I should warn you, though, Izuku-Kun, my little brother, isn't usually this well composed. Actually I don’t think I’ve heard him say anything besides vulgarities since his first escape attempt.”

“Fuck you, Mikumo.”

“Ah, and there he is.” He looks at Izuku. “Don’t take it to heart. I’m afraid it’s just his way of getting back at the world for making him so frail.” He pointedly ignores Yoichi’s indignant huff. “Anyways,” he starts, ushering Izuku towards the door, “I still need to put you in the system, give you the codes and keys relevant to your job, and show you how to get to and from the kitchen.”

“Wait!” His brother calls out, arm outstretched.

Mikumo pauses. “Izuku-Kun will be here every day from four to nine. I have a meeting to attend to after I send him off, but I’ll be sure to bring dinner down before bedtime.”

“Brother-”

The door shuts and locks.

-x-x-x-

“It’s not too late to quit,” his boss’ brother murmurs. “

“Are you finished with your dinner?” He asks, only taking the plate once he receives a nod.

His boss told Izuku over and over that any attempt to help his brother outside of assigned tasks would be punished with garnished wages.

His mom had been so happy when she found a thousand dollars stashed in her purse. Hiding money in her stuff is the only way to make her accept it. She eyed him suspiciously but asked no questions. They even had enough to put towards the debt they had slowly been gathering since the day his father abandoned them.

Izuku, even though it hurts to see Yoichi’s (the name he insisted on being called. Though, he only refers to him as such in his head. His boss might get angry otherwise) downcast expression whenever he refuses to engage, cannot afford to lose out on that money. His mom’s happiness and their precarious financial situation depend on it.

“Why are you being so cold?” Yoichi asks.

“I’m sorry.”

“If you’re really sorry, then please, just talk to me.”

Izuku puts the tray of dirty dishes on the desk. He’ll take them to the kitchen to be washed before he leaves. He makes eye contact with the camera in the corner of the room. He feels bad for Yoichi. His every move is recorded and meticulously controlled.

It’s easier to ignore his pleas than to indulge them.

“It’s time to take your meds.”

“I understand you want to help your mother. That’s admirable, but my brother will only take advantage of that kindness.”

Izuku stares at him.

He sighs, bowing his head. “I left them in the bathroom. Can you fetch them for me?”

Finally, something that doesn’t involve pretending to be a robot. His emotions are frayed and he’s had to bite back tears twenty times just in the past hour. Which is one time more than usual.

He goes to the bathroom and flips on the light. There’s no mirror, or anything pointy. One of his jobs is to check and make sure none of the items in Yoichi’s room have been made into weapons.

There is, however, a wooden cabinet in place of the mirror. He goes to check inside when he’s shoved to the floor. He thankfully doesn’t hit his head on the toilet or bathtub, but his back aches when he sits up. He hears the door shut.

Yoichi and he make eye contact.

“Wha-”

“Shut up,” Yoichi demands. His tone is not unkind, but it also brings about a sense of impatient urgency. “We don’t have much time. I can play this off as me helping you find my medicine, but anything over five minutes will be suspicious.”

He offers Izuku his hand, which is accepted without a second thought.

When he checks Izuku over and sees he has no serious injuries, he continues on. “I apologize for pushing you, but I couldn’t risk you running away. I understand money is important, but it certainly can't be worth this.”

“My mom….her happiness is worth everything to me.”

“And that comes at the cost of what? Becoming a villain?”

Izuku wrinkles his nose. “I’m not a villain,” he protests.

“You like heroes, right?”

The change in direction throws Izuku for a loop. His obsession with heroes never really ended, but it’s been hard to keep up on the different battles and debuts. “They’re okay.”

Yoichi gives him a knowing smile. “Your words say one thing, but the light in your eyes when I asked you said another.”

He frowns. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll never be a hero regardless.”

“Never say never.”

Izuku opens his mouth, confused beyond belief, and is immediately interrupted by the sound of the vault door being slammed open. It bangs against the wall.

“Little brother! Izuku-Kun!” He hears his boss call out.

“All is not lost,” Yoichi murmurs, before grabbing the necessary meds out of his pocket and opening the door. “In here, brother. We were looking for my medicine.”

Izuku stands in the bathroom, processing what just happened.

-x-x-x-

“I like your eyes,” his boss compliments.

It’s out of the blue, but it seems innocuous enough. “Thank you, boss,” he chirps. Better to be overly eager than reluctant, right?

His boss laughs a little at that. “Do you get them from your mom, or dad?”

Izuku shifts in his seat, pausing his homework. Yoichi had (what his boss calls) a temper tantrum earlier, so he’s still under the effects of a sedative. A baby monitor sits on the corner of his boss’ desk, so they can tell when he’s awake.

“Um, mom, I think. But her’s are darker and her pupils are black.”

“And your father?”

“I never looked into my father’s eyes, sir.”

His boss sighs, chin resting on his hands. “That’s a shame.”

“What the-”

“Ah, someone’s awake,” his boss says, snatching up the baby monitor. “You can bring his lunch down when you go.”

“Yes, sir.” Izuku shuffles his homework back into his bag. With his boss’ permission, he keeps it hidden in the closet in his office.

“Oh, and Izuku-Kun?”

He freezes in place. “Yes?”

“If I ever catch you being caught off guard by my brother again, you won’t like the consequence that follows.”

Izuku clenches his hands into fists.

“Yes, sir,” he says. “It was my mistake.”

“Good boy.”

-x-x-x-

Izuku is shaking with unbridled anger the whole way down. He does his best to act composed, as the cameras capture everything. But no matter how big he smiles, the tray in his hand still shakes ever so slightly, sloshing the soup.

His boss had really said “good boy” to him. Like- like he’s a dog that’s learned a new trick.

Yoichi is sitting at his desk when he enters the room. A book older than Izuku’s grandparents sits nestled in his hands. “I’ve brought food.”

“I see that, thank you, Izu.”

He feels some of the residual anger slide off him. The nickname reminds him of his mom. “I made sure the cooks left out the cilantro this time.”

Yoichi makes a face. “Thanks. Big brother always forgets how much I hate that.”

He watches Yoichi eat his lunch, standing-as instructed-next to his desk. The food smells amazing and Yoichi seems like a good conversationalist, but his boss is already upset at him enough.

Besides, he really doesn’t want to know what someone like him considers a severe consequence.

“You look upset, Izu,” Yoichi says, stacking his dishes. “Did my brother dig into you about the whole bathroom-thing?”

“Yes, but it was nothing I couldn’t take. My one and only gripe was him being overly condescending.”

“That’s his natural state, though.”

The noise Izuku makes fighting back laughter can barely be classified as human. He hides his mouth behind his hands and turns from the camera. After feeling so humiliated it’s nice that, at the very least, Yoichi has his back.

“I won’t do that again,” Yoichi promises him. “I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble. Big brother has a tendency to overreact.

And isn’t that an oversimplification. His boss is one incident away from making Izuku into a pair of leather boots. But he has no energy to argue (not that he could if he wanted to), so he nods at Yoichi, makes sure his desk is cleaned up, and moves to the next activity.

-x-x-x-

“You like him.”

All for One-his brother in only blood-stands before him. He wears his usual smug smile. It annoys Yoichi to no end that trying to punch him only ends with being sedated. He misses when they were kids, and he was a whole head taller than his older brother.

It had been easier to deal with him then, even if Yoichi had been extremely sickly and weak.

“Why? Because I’m cooperating?” He pretends to read his book, scanning the words more than reading them. His brother has always been particular in how Yoichi responds to people. More specifically, his brother hates when he likes someone more than him (which isn’t hard but the last time he was honest about not hating one of his caregivers, his brother “fired” them on the spot. Yoichi looks at the reddish-brown spot he tried so hard to scrub out on the carpet). It’s better that he plays it safe.

“Yes and no. It's a combination of many things. You cooperate: eating your food with a fuss, taking your meds, and even making your bed. The latter of which you haven’t done since we were kids. Not to mention the one sided conversations you get into with the boy.”

Yoichi puts his book down. “Please, don’t punish the kid for that. I get lonely, and he’s been following your stupid rules to the letter.”

“I’m aware. Wasn’t planning on punishing anyone, though if you want to continue to insult the rules and structure I put in place, then I might reconsider that-”

“No! No, please don’t. I’m sorry.”

All for One chuckles, tilting his head to the side. “You do like the boy.”

“He’s just so….young. I still don’t like that you’ve hired a child, but….”

“But?” His brother presses.

“But as long as he’s here, I will do everything in my power to make sure he’s safe. He needs someone to look out for him.”

“Like a big brother?”

“Like a big- wait, no.”

His brother looks amused. “It’s fine. Now, if you thought of him as an older brother, then we would have some issues. But Izuku-Kun is still younger than the age I gave you that immortality quirk. He’s no threat to me. And, if I’m honest, I find myself growing fond of the boy.” His brother sighs. “He reminds me of you.”

Yoichi hunches into himself. “But he isn’t me, big brother.” He doesn’t like where this is going.

“No, no he isn’t. But he has all the qualities.”

“Please, fire him if you must.”

“Why would I fire him? I just said I’m fond of him.” All for One hums, reaching out to stroke his face with his thumb. “You always used to complain about being the youngest in the family.”

Yoichi fights back tears. He promised himself a long time ago-after his boyfriend had been brutally murdered by his brother-that he would never, ever give him the satisfaction of seeing him cry. To see him weak and needy.

“Leave him alone. He has a mother who loves him.”

“Does she?” He pulls away, and Yoichi instantly feels the tension in his body relax. “He has to give all his earnings to her, when he should be saving them so he can attend college.”

He bristles. “Because they’re dirt poor!? Don’t act like you don’t remember the days when we were poorer than that!”

“I remember those days well,” his brother answers him in a calm tone, which only makes Yoichi even angrier. “But if you’ll remember, I never once put that burden on you. It was I, your caregiver, that shouldered that responsibility.”

“It should have been on mom’s and dad’s shoulders.”

His brother ducks his head, before looking at Yoichi once again. He doesn’t smile when he says, “maybe they should have. Which is why it's hard for me to see someone so young and so full of life being put in a similar situation. I look into that boy’s eyes and see-”

“Me?”

“Myself,” his brother finishes. “I see you in his eyes and his mannerism, but I must admit, I see myself more often than not.”

“And you think holding onto him will do what? Solve all our childhood trauma? Newsflash, Izuku-Kun isn’t you! He isn’t me! He’s his own person, who has a mother whom he loves very much!”

“I know that.”

“Do you?”

“I do,” his brother snaps, patience evidently wearing thin. “I simply wish for him to have a better upbringing than we had.”

“He’s fifteen.”

His brother shrugs. “My decision is final. I’m lifting the conversation ban, and you’ll be responsible for helping him complete his homework. He will still be in charge of making sure you behave and follow my rules, but I will allow you two to converse.”

“How thoughtful,” Yoichi snarks, head in hands.

His brother heads for the door. “Oh, and I shouldn’t have to tell you, I’m always listening.” They both look towards the camera, always recording in the corner of the room. “Breathe a word of this conversation to him, or try to warn him in any way, and you won’t like what happens.”

Yoichi watches his brother open the door in mute horror.

“Sleep well, little brother. I love you very much.”

The door shuts and locks, leaving Yoichi in stunned, horrified silence.

#mha fanfiction #cross posted on ao3 #mha au #dad for one #mha izuku #mha yoichi #mha afo #all for one #quirkless midoriya izuku #vault time #mha inko #yoichi shigaraki

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