Izuku's Tangles

Realisation

"I can get proof," Katsuki replies cooly, standing up and motioning Hitoshi to follow. Hitoshi gave Izuku a quick hug before heading to the kitchen, away from Izuku. Izuku didn't mind, well, he did. If they could get proof, that would mean the reality of their dad's lies would come forth. And he wasn't ready to face it.

Across the house, Katsuki leaned against the island, hiding how he was fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Hitoshi sighed deeply, rubbing his face. "What just happened?"

"Shit. God, I don't understand how shitty someone could be, kidnapping their own child, abusing them, isolating them, like what the hell?! Who does that?"

"Izuku's father, I guess."

"I can't believe it got so bad..."

"Yeah, you should've heard him. He's so... freaky. " Hitoshi shivered, remembering Izuku's dad talking to Izuku right before everything changed.

"I can imagine. I haven't spoken to him since as he left Mustafa when Izuku was born, so I never got the chance to see the creep. "

Izuku occasionally mentioned how much his father adored his quirky ways; he would caress his hair or simply pay more attention to that than to Izuku himself.

"It's like, he doesn't even love Izuku but just loves his hair," Katsuki pondered, a bad feeling growing in his stomach. So, what has been happening so far? Does he want to go back?"

"Yes-no. Not right now, but eventually he wants to go home. He said he would get punished if he were to go home now, so there's no point in going now. Meaning, he wants to prolong it." Hitoshi explained, rubbing his elbow.

"He did?" Huh, that's good to hear. That gives us enough time to get proof and to persuade him to stay here.

"That's what I've been trying to do, and I think it's been working. He doesn't want to leave me yet."

Katsuki nodded, a curling sense of resentment attacking his heart, feeling rather jealous. Shaking his head, he agreed. "Proof-wise, we could go to a place he went to before he was kidnapped. I lost him around age five, so anytime before that. "

"Maybe old photos? Like a memory book or a place you guys went together? Perhaps that can jog his memory too."

"True. That would work. I think a photo would work best. As we don't know how he lost his memories, it would be tough to try to see how he could remember them once again."

"Either way, we should do both," said Katsuki, trailing back to the living room. Hitoshi followed suit, crossing his arms. "Wait," Hitoshi snapped at the doorway of the kitchen.

"Yeah?"

"Um, are we not going to talk about your feelings for Izuku?"

"What do you mean?" Katsuki snarled, turning to face him. Hitoshi held on to his urge to be passive.

"You just got Izuku back. How are you feeling?"

Katsuki stared with bored eyes, as though he expected Hitoshi to say something else. "I'm feeling fine."

Hitoshi inhaled deeply, rubbing his arm. "How about you telling Izuku your past and Izuku telling his?"

"As I said, I'm fucking pissed off that his shitty father did that to him and I'm..." he laughed, holding his face, "proud that I told him my feelings." He used a specific set of words to get a reaction from Hitoshi.

And well, Hitoshi came forward, clenching his fists and creasing his eyes. "And how do you feel about him?" That sentence alone was hard for him to get out.

"I like him," Katsuki smirked, heading back to the living room couch. Hitoshi stared as a light panic settled. His blood boiled, no fucking way.

On the couch, Izuku was fiddling with the hem of his shirt—well, Hitoshi's shirt. That made Hitoshi smirk. Izuku was wearing his shirt, not Katsuki's. "Hey, Izu," he waved, sitting beside him, wrapping an arm around Izuku. The boy blushed, snuggling back. "You guys got proof?" He said in a low voice.