apathy

mother knows best

Inko wakes to her phone ringing an annoying little tune. She blinks into the dark of her bedroom, slightly groggy with sleep, and in no hurry to get up and answer it. That is, until her mind remembers the only people in her contacts who's ringtone are set to the aggravating bip-bip-bip that is ringing through the room. Inko fumbles for her phone, bolting up to sit anxiously as she answers the call. 

"Tsukauchi-san? What happened? Is Izuku okay?" She asks immediately, words blurring together. After two years of Izuku's new... hobby, she should be used to getting calls from the police station, but she has a feeling that her heart will always race with worry. Especially with calls. When Izuku does his usual, Tsukauchi or Sansa text updates to her, but when something goes wrong they call. But there's always the chance that Tsukauchi just wants to talk?

The moment of silence on his end doesn't exactly fill her with confidence.

"Midoriya-san," Tsukauchi starts, voice solemn, and oh, this kind of professionalism is never a good sign. "I'm calling because your son was involved in a villain attack and has been admitted into Mufatsu Hospital."

All of Inko's thoughts grind to a halt. In the whole of the past two years, Izuku has never been involved with a villain attack serious enough to send him to the hospital. Inko supposes they've been incredibly lucky in that way, that Izuku only gets a few easily handled scrapes or bruises from going out and interfering in crimes. What has changed? Is Izuku going for bigger things now, since he's been getting away with dealing with everything else? The fact that Inko can't begin to imagine what Izuku might have been thinking scares her.

Tsukauchi keeps talking, listing off the most major of Izuku's injuries then assuring her that there were plenty of people with healing quirks working on fixing them. He tells her Izuku's room number and Inko agrees, numbly, that she will be there soon. Getting ready is a haze, and she barely remembers actually coming to the hospital. The next thing she knows, she's standing in the doorway of Izuku's room, a soft, choked cry falling from her lips when she sees him sleeping on the hospital bed.

Inko and Izuku share an apartment, but Inko can't say that they live together. Izuku tends to stay out when she's home, leaving before she gets back early in the morning and returning after she leaves for her night shift at work. They work around each other, a dance of avoidance that neither has acknowledged. Inko is hit suddenly with the realization that she hasn't seen her son in so long that looking at him now, he looks significantly older. She's missed something here, some great step going from her little, joyful Izukkun, to Izuku, who is taller and gangly, and exhausted. 

Tsukauchi and Sansa, who are positioned on the far side of Izuku's bed, stand up when they hear her. Both of them seem worried and guilty, but Inko doesn't have it in her to pay attention to it, instead directing all of her focus onto Izuku as she stumbles forward to his side. His neck is wrapped in gauze, and there are assorted bandages and casts covering the rest of him. His hand lays limp by his side, and Inko takes it gently, sagging against the bed and holding it close.

"What happened?" She asks, quiet and desperate. The detectives exchange a glance, then Tsukauchi sighs. 

"I asked a hero to keep Izuku-kun out of trouble, a couple of weeks ago, remember? Today both of us were busy and that hero decided to bring Izuku-kun with him on a Yuuei school trip for the hero class. No one was expecting a villain attack, Inko. We all thought Izuku-kun would be safe." Tsukauchi runs a hand through his hair, looking down at Izuku sadly. Sansa puts a hand on his shoulder after a moment. "An... an eyewitness told us that Izuku-kun ran at the main villain, someone named Shigaraki. He stalled with talking for a bit, then tried to get in a sneak attack. Shigaraki caught him and well..."

He gestures solemnly at Izuku's battered form. Inko tries to blink away the tears gathering in her eyes. Of course Izuku would run in. He'd always wanted to be a hero, even after the diagnosis. Inko may not be around enough to know who exactly her Izuku is right now, but she knows that no matter what, Izuku is heroic. There's an unmistakable need to help people in him, even at the cost of his own safety. Even with the concerning attitude the detectives have reported to her, it seems like Izuku has never lost his knack for saving people.

It begs the question though—who saves Izuku? Inko has to shamefully admit that she hasn't done anything to do so. Even when he was a child, crying and asking if he could still be a hero—begging her for hope—she had just told him she was sorry. Sorry that the world was so cruel. Sorry that his dream had been so short-lived. That wasn't what Izuku had needed at the time, she knows. He wanted her to reassure him, tell him that he could be a hero no matter what, but all she had been able to think about was him hurt—dead—because he didn't have a power to protect himself. 

Who saves those who are always saving others?

Inko doesn't realize she's crying until Sansa hugs her gently from the side. Tsukauchi has moved to crouch next to her as well, holding her free hand. Inko sobs against Izuku's hand, squeezing perhaps a bit too tightly. Neither of the detectives say anything, just stay with her as silent comfort. The only other noise in the room is the steady beeping of the heart monitor her son is hooked up to.

Inko imagines she feels Izuku squeeze her hand back.