No Choice |VILLAIN!DEKU|

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Izuku Midoriya told no one about what happened that morning, and life continued on the way it had since the young villain had attacked Todoroki, Iida, and Uraraka in that alleyway.

He quickly cleaned up the mess he discovered and moved in with his life, he had more important things to do anyways.

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"I don't imagine living in a house by yourself is very fun. No wonder he was so grumpy." Izuku was currently helping his mother wash the dishes as they discussed the topic of Mr. Sato, the old man whose lawn Izuku recently mowed.

Inko let out a slight laugh as she dried a plate. "You're right, he can be off-putting sometimes, but he's a nice man at heart. He has had a rough life, is all. I think it changed him."

Izuku scrubbed at some leftovers stuck to the plate in front of him before humming in acknowledgment. "I guess I can understand that. I still don't like how alone he seems."

"Well, I tell you what. If you are as annoying as possible in a super nice way, he might not be alone." Inko's face was mischievous.

Izuku's eyebrows shot up. "Are you... suggesting that I harass an elderly man?" Izuku was surprised. I mean, he was planning on doing it anyways, but for his mother to suggest was something he never thought possible.

Inko paused on the plate she was drying as she thought of her reply. "Not exactly. I just know that that man needs someone to hear his story and to be friendly with. He's too alone, and you are the best person for the job."

"Why am I the one for the job?"

The laugh Inko let out felt almost like wind chimes drifting gently in the summer breeze. "Well, to begin with, your the first person Mr. Sato has spoken to in months. That gives you a distinct advantage. Also..." Inko paused, her voice now tinged with nostalgia, "you remind me of my son so much, sometimes it scares me." The mother's voice was barely a whisper. The soft spoken words echoed through the room, a stark cold reminder of everything wrong with the world.

"He was always good at that," the woman continued, "getting people to talk, I mean. He didn't have a way with words, and he certainly wasn't what I would call charming." Inko smiled, as though she was remembering something from a distant past. "He was so clumsy and he always fumbled around for words. He stuttered, he cried a lot, and he never had a girlfriend. Despite all of that, there was just something about him that made people feel open to talk.

"You remind me of my son, Suzuki. You don't speak as much as he did, and you have a hard exterior, like you've been through something terrible. But you're also kind and generous. I noticed that about you the moment I met you. Most teenagers won't visit an old lady like me every week just because she's lonely. They especially don't help her clean out her missing son's room and cry with her. Just like my son, there is just something about you that makes me feel safe talking with you."

Inko set down the plate she was drying and turned to face Izuku. "Thank you, Suzuki. Thank you so much." Inko's voice was cracking now. "I hope that wherever my Izuku is-" tears were running down her face now but Inko was determined to finish.

"I hope he is like you. I hope he pushes through no matter what battles he faces. I don't know what you've been through. I don't know if you have a family, or if something terrible has happened to make you hide yourself with that awful mask that you use. All I know is that I would be honored if you would call me family, because I certainly think of you as mine." The tears were pouring out of Inko's eyes like water spouts. The tears looked like watery sapphires because of how the florescent kitchen lighting hit them.