Guilt: The Trial of Izuku Midoriya

Chapter Eleven: Dinner (Original)

Izuku stared at the ceiling of his childhood bedroom. Another restless night. Ever since he'd been told about the man he had killed, sleep had eluded him. Not that I mind. Recently, the small amount of sleep he managed to get had brought only nightmares. Compared to the images his unconscious mind could conjure, fatigue didn't seem so bad. He sighed.

It sure is lonely, though. As usual, his unoccupied mind drifted to her. Ochako. God, I miss you. Izuku had always pinned after her, sweet longings filling his quiet moments, but it seemed even worse now that he actually had her. Now that he had experienced her warmth, every moment spent apart seemed that much colder. He smiled as her visage drifted through his mind. Even if it was imaginary, her smile was infectious. Although he normally would just picture her beautiful face, smiling brightly, tonight was different. Two shining faces beamed up at him. Four eyes, two brown, two red, glittered like stars.

It was hard to picture Ochako without also thinking of Eri. My daughter. Our daughter. Izuku's chest burned as he let his love for them wash over him. My family. I have a... family. While the concept was still surreal, he no longer felt complete without it. They were his pillar, the only thing that could cut through life's anxieties to bring him clarity. He didn't know what he had done to deserve them, but he knew one thing.

I'm never letting go.

Izuku's eyes squinted as the first rays of morning light broke through his window. Sitting up, he looked to the clock on the wall. 6:15. It would only be a little while longer before his mother would wake up. He stood, feet padding across the floor softly as he made his way to the kitchen. His mother had done so much for him. She had supported him, taken on his pain, his hurt. Izuku remembered how he had cried himself to sleep in her arms the previous night. The least I can do is make her something.

Izuku hummed absentmindedly as he moved around the kitchen, preparing breakfast. He had only been cooking for a few minutes when he heard footsteps behind him. "Mmm... Izu? What are you doing?" It appeared that he had woken her, as she still seemed dazed.

"Morning mom!" He tried to sound as chipper as possible. He wanted to raise her spirits, as a thank you for last night. But that wasn't all. Izuku was determined to show the woman standing in front of him exactly how much she meant to him, and how much she had helped. He quickly crossed the distance of the room, pulling her into a tight hug. "I love you."

"I love you too, son." His mother smiled, interpreting his intentions. Pulling himself away, Izuku returned to the food. He usually only cooked for his mother on her birthday, and it was always the same. Inko Midoriya was a simple woman, a creature of habit. He would always make her chocolate chip pancakes, and she would always laugh at the various shapes he'd manage to create. Cats, birds, clouds, and once, even a (rough) portrait of her. He liked to experiment with the shapes as much as possible, but today's design was an easy choice.

Laying several heart-shaped pancakes in front of her, Izuku stepped back, smiling. Pride swelled in his chest as he saw tears glistening as the corners of his mother's eyes. Giving her shoulder a quick squeeze, he took a plate, and sat. As he toyed with his own food, his mind wandered back to Ochako. I wonder if she's awake yet... I still haven't heard from her. Looking up, he caught his mother's eye. The green eyes he had inherited sparkled with a womanly intuition.

"Thinking about Ochako?" A teasing grin rose to her mouth.

"A-ah, Mom!" Izuku didn't know why he was so embarrassed. It was clear to anyone with a pulse that they had feelings for each other. Just days prior, they had even officially started dating. But he hadn't managed to broach the subject with his mother yet. It wasn't that he didn't want to tell her, he just didn't know how to. Even now, I can't help but feel like a child around her. Seeing the panic in his eyes, his mother took pity on him, waving him off with a laugh. Izuku's face began to cool as she returned to her breakfast. Still feeling defensive, he rose, and returned to the safety of his room. Another lonely day.