|When ᕼᴀтᴇ Wants 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮| [BakuDeku]

Prologue

A/N: *laughs in crazy alternative universe where Yo Shindo is Izuku's brother*

I sat on the kitchen counter, watching my mom make dinner. She was panicking slightly and kept glancing at the clock every couple of minutes. I knew why she did this: my dad was coming home in exactly sixteen minutes and he liked dinner to be on the table as soon as he got in.

Yo wandered in, playing with his superhero toys. "Mom, can I go play at Katsuki's?" he asked, giving her the puppy dog look.

She glanced at the clock again and shook her head quickly. "Not right now, Yo. Dinner won't be long and we need to eat as a family." She flinched slightly as she spoke.

Yo's face fell, but he nodded and came to sit next to me. I immediately snatched the little hero out of his hands and then laughed as he gasped and grabbed it back, smiling and rolling his eyes at me. He was a cute kid, with black hair and brown eyes with gray flecks in them. He was my older brother, and as big brothers went, he was the best. He always looked after me at home and school, making sure that no one picked on me.

The only one allowed to pick on me, as far as he was concerned, was him, and to a lesser extent his best friend Katsuki, who happened to live next door.

"So, Izu, you need help with your homework?" he asked, nudging his shoulder into mine. Yo was ten now, two years older than me, so he always helped with my school work.

"Nope. I didn't get any." I smiled, swinging my legs as they dangled off the counter.

"Okay, kids, go set the table for me. You know how. Exactly right, okay?" Mom instructed, filling up the bowls with rice. Yo and I jumped down from the counter and grabbed the plates, heading to the dining room.

My dad was extremely particular about everything, if it weren't exactly right then he got angry, and no one ever wanted that. My mom always said that my dad had a stressful job. He always got easily annoyed if we did anything wrong.

If you had ever heard of that saying 'Children should be seen and not heard', well, my dad took that to another extreme. Instead, he liked 'Children shouldn't be seen or heard'. At five thirty every day he would come home, we would eat dinner straight away, and then Yo and I would be sent to our bedrooms, where we played quietly until seven thirty when we would have to go to bed.

I hated this time every day. Everything was fine until he came home, and then we all changed. Yo always went quiet and didn't smile. My mom got this look on her face, like fear or worry, and she would start rushing around plumping up the cushions on the sofa. I always just stood there and silently wished I could hide in my room and never come out.

Yo and I set the table quietly and then sat down in silence, waiting for the click of the door that signalled he was home. I could feel my stomach fluttering with nerves. My hands started sweating as I prayed in my head that he'd had a good day and he would be normal tonight.

Sometimes, he would be in a really good mood and would hug and kiss me, telling me what a good little boy I was, and how much he loved me. That was usually on a Sunday. My mom and Yo would go to hockey practice, and I would be left home with my father.

Those Sundays were the worst, but I didn't ever tell anyone about those times, or how he touched me and told me how pretty I was. I hated those days and wished the weekends would never come. I would much rather it be a school day when we would only see him for dinnertime.

I definitely preferred it when he looked at me with the angry eyes than when he looked at me with the soft eyes. I didn't like that at all; it made me feel uncomfortable and it always made my hands shake. Thankfully though, today was only Monday so I had almost a week before I would have to worry about that again.