A Wallflower's Thorns

18

Detective Tsukauchi’s apartment is as minimalist as Izuku expected. Warm toned walls with maybe one or two photographs hung up, but for the most part bare. The coffee table doesn’t have any magazines or decor, Izuku’s not sure why he expected there to be any. 

Izuku picks at his fingernails while making these observations. It’s not a good habit, and he’s been better about it lately, but sitting here on Detective Tsukauchi’s couch has him relapsing. He doesn’t stop, even when pain shoots down his finger. Compared to broken bones, a bleeding fingernail isn’t too bad. He’s probably going to regret the hangnail though. 

Tsukauchi comes back from the kitchen holding a packet of crackers and two cups of water. He furrows his brow when he sees what Izuku’s doing. “Stop that.” He says, putting everything down on the coffee table. He sighs when Izuku flinches. “Stay here for a sec.” He gets back up to rummage through a cabinet. When he returns, he has a yellow smiley stress ball in one hand and a bandaid in another. “Hold out your hands.” He instructs. Izuku does. Tsukauchi places the stress ball in Izuku’s non-injured hand and gently wraps his bleeding finger with the bandaid. “There you go.” The man sits down on the couch opposite to Izuku. “You already know what I’m going to say.” 

Izuku has an idea, yes. He catches himself right before he picks at his index finger and squeezes the stress ball instead. “He’s going to be mad.” he mumbles, looking away. All Might has spent so much time and effort on Izuku, and Izuku snubbed it all by doing all of this. 

“He might be a little mad.” Tsukauchi agrees, “But I’ve known Toshinori longer than you, Midoriya. He’s going to be more worried than angry, I promise.”

That’s worse, actually. Izuku squeezes the stress ball as tight as he can. All Might saw something worthwhile in him, what if this proves he was wrong? He’s spent so much time on Izuku, so much effort. Has Izuku been wasting his time? The thought makes Izuku want to turn on Notice Me Not and live as a hermit. 

“We don’t have to tell him today, you’ve had a rough go of it.” Tsukauchi reminds him gently. “But you’ve been compromised, Midoriya. You’ll be safer the sooner Toshinori knows what’s going on. We can’t help if we’re kept in the dark, and I think you know that. You wouldn’t have scheduled that meeting otherwise.”

See, he knows that, but telling someone was so much easier in theory. Now there’s fallout, broken trust - trust that Izuku took advantage of. He bites his lip. “...I’m scared for mom,” he admits. “I’m scared I’m going to come home and she’s- she’s--”

“That won’t happen.” Tsukauchi assures, “We can move you both to an apartment complex with a heavy hero presence. It’s as close to witness protection as you can get without actually being in witness protection.” 

But they've lived in their apartment since forever. Izuku whines in the back of his throat, dropping the stress ball to clutch at his hair. “I’m so stupid, detective. I got myself in trouble and I got mom in trouble and we’re gonna have to move and-” It’s getting harder to breathe. Izuku pulls harder at his hair, scrunching his eyes shut as he draws into himself. 

“Hey, hey, hey.” There’s a hand on Izuku’s back, broad and warm and moving in circles. “Midoriya, you’re having an anxiety attack,” Tsukauchi tells him, “You need to breathe with me, okay? In and out, Midoriya. Come on.” He starts taking deep breaths. Izuku does his best to match it but stuttering sobs keep shaking the air out of his chest.