Redemption From a Father [REVISE]

[ REVISE ] Enlighment to the kid

Back in middle school, his mom once asked him, gentle but nervous, "Izuku, do you miss your father?"

He remembered pausing, pretending it didn't sting. Then he smiled too fast and said, "Of course not, Mom. Why would I miss him? I already have you."

That was back when he still had no quirk, no plan, and a heart too soft for the world. Back when he thought he ruined their "perfect" family by simply being born the way he was.

He grew up trying not to think about his father at all. Not because he forgot, more because remembering sucked.

His anger and guilt got tangled into one messy knot in his chest. Some days he swore he hated the man. Other days he couldn't even manage that.

He didn't know if he wanted to scream or apologize or run. And, Katsuki's words earlier... annoyingly made sense.

He couldn't run from this forever. Life was already heavy enough. Add unresolved dad trauma? Yeah, no thanks.

Still, thinking about it made his stomach twist.

"Why not you ask your mom?" Katsuki asked, arms crossed like he was lecturing him about homework and not emotional collapse.

Izuku blinked. "Huh?"

"No one knows you better than she does." Katsuki shrugged, like he wasn't currently giving him the gentlest advice ever spoken by someone who once threatened to blow up his notebook.

"You know me too, Kacchan," Izuku mumbled.

"No, I don't," Katsuki snapped, voice firm but not sharp. "Yeah, we grew up together. Yeah, our moms basically merged families at this point. But that doesn't mean I magically know every part of you. Don't act like I've got all your crap figured out just because we shared toddler bath time or whatever."

Izuku blinked at him. That... was surprisingly honest. And also a little alarming because Kacchan acknowledging emotional limitations is not on his bingo card today.

He swallowed, words slipping out before he could second guess them.

"I think I'm just... tired," he said, voice small, like he was afraid the room might swallow the words. "I really want to hate him. I want to be angry and stay angry, like a normal person. Hold a grudge, slam a door, something. But I can't. I don't know why. I just... want it to stop sitting in my chest all the time. I want it gone. Sometimes I wish I could just forget everything and move on."

The words sat between them, raw and messy. Like he'd cracked open something he'd glued shut for years.

He had never said any of this out loud. Not to her mom. Not to All Might. Not even to his journal. He didn't even dare write it, because writing meant admitting it was real. Admitting there was a problem. Admitting that somewhere in the back of his head, he still believed he broke something in his family.

That maybe if he was stronger, or better, or something, things wouldn't have turned out like this.

And now he was sitting here, saying it to Katsuki. Katsuki, of all people. The boy who used to be the last person he thought he could ever talk to again. The boy he once feared, then resented, then slowly, awkwardly found his way back to. Somehow, through explosions and insults and terrible communication, they ended up here.

On the same room. Breathing the same weird emotional air.

He let out a shaky breath. "It's stupid, right? After everything? I still can't hate him."