Double Trouble

The arrival

Two twin brothers stand next to each other. Both of their faces are casted into shadow, but despite that it is obvious they are both happy.

These brothers laugh and play, protect and forgive. If you asked one what they thought of the other, they would puff out their chest and proudly tell you what their brother excels at. His strengths and ideas. And how much he loves his brother, his twin.

These brothers loved superheroes. Merchandise, comic books, television, they consumed it all. How cool would it be to be a hero? To have powers and save the day? It was the most wonderous thing to them, and they worshiped the idea.

They would giggle to the other and make plans to become a hero themselves! What a duo they would make.

A dream any child would want.

One day it seemed as if that dream was going to take a step forward as one of the twins develops a power. How wonderous!

The twin would show off to his brother with excitement, who would stare with what could only be with stars in his eyes, by the look of his joyful, wide smile.

"Do you think I'll get one too?" He would ask his brother.

And his brother would give a wide smile back and reply, "Of course! We're twins! And twins share everything together, it's only a matter of time."

Then they would laugh and play once more.

Over time however, it seems as if the other was not going to develop a power of their own.

In fact, to society he was quite weak. Fragile.

His smiles weren't as genuine anymore. And fewer.

He was told he couldn't be much. He would not be able to.

One twin was thriving and the other was not.

But his brother would not stand for that. He would growl at those who would dare to spit lies and tell them off.

"Don't listen to them," He would say, "I won't let anything happen to you."

He turns his shadowed face to his brother and smiles. "I'll protect you." He vows. "And you'll help me, won't you? We're in this together, thick and thin."

He holds his hand out to his brother, who looks at him with some kind of wonder.

And then a shaky, relieved smile broke on his face, voice wobbling as he replies back.

"Of course."

They clasp hands.

And the two of them feels as though nothing would stand between them, as long as they had the other.

Oh, if only those happy days had lasted.

Sitting in a very white room, decorated with many, many chairs, is a man.

At first glance this man may seem very composed, dressed in his dark suit.

But then you get closer and see he is not very composed at all, oh no. In fact, he seems somewhat of a nervous wreck.

His fancy suit is disheveled, buttons uneven, tie missing. As if it was the first outfit he had set his sights on and rushed to put it on to get out of the door as quick as possible.

His dark hair is a curly, wild mess completely untamable. His face has an unmistakable sheen of sweat that makes him look almost feverish.

Foot rapidly tapping, hands clasping to each other in a death grip, and red eyes darting around feverishly at every movement while still giving off a look of being lost in his own head.

Yes, this man is truly the opposite of being composed.

A television in the corner of the room whispers so softly in the background you would have to strain your ears to hear it.

People in white coats are a constant in passing by the small area the man finds himself. Their words, steps, noises, becoming nothing more than static to his ears as he goes over and over just what could be going wrong.

It's been too long. His leg bounces and bounces. There should've been news by now. I should have insisted more in staying.

Perhaps it is not too late. He could grab one of the white coats and demand to be let in the room. He should be there with her, damn it! Just what the hell was he doing sitting out here?!

What if something went wrong? What if it died? What if she died?

His stomach twists uncomfortably and he thinks he is going to be sick.

His freckled face paling.

Or what if-

"Midoriya-san?"

Midoriya Hisashi snaps his head towards the voice.

A male nurse gives him a small smile and beckons him over and asks, "Would you care to follow me?"

Hisashi shoots up from his chair so fast, he nearly stumbles over his own feet. He walks stiffly over to the nurse as he leads the way.

Questions and concerns flood his mind as they walk through the white halls. He wants to ask if everything went fine. He wants to ask if she is alright. He wants to know just what took so long. He wants, he wants.

There is a hand on his shoulder. The nurse gives him another smile and gestures to a door labeled "Midoriya Inko."

"They are right in there, if either of you need any assistance, please ring for me." And with that the nurse leaves him alone.

Hisashi breathes deeply in an attempt to calm his rapidly beating heart. He prepares his entire being and slowly opens the door.

The sight that greeted him melted his nervous from his very core. It was like being put into the sun after a long night out in a frigid blizzard.

The sight of his wife.

She seemed exhausted, yes, but other than that she seemed just fine as she gives him a warm dopey smile.

"You look absolutely terrible." She chuckles slightly.

He smiles sheepishly as he closes the door behind him. He is halfway across the room when he finally notices the bundle in her arms, or rather, two of them.

"Is that...?"

"Twins." Inko confirmed. "I can't believe we didn't find out sooner." Her eyes are filled with an absolute amount of love and adoration as she looks down at their children.

Hisashi finally circles around the bed and kneels down. He, oh so very slowly reaches a hand out and gently pulls back the bundles to reveal their faces.

His breath seems to catch thickly in his throat as he looks at the pair of them.

One had a tuft of black hair and many freckles dotting his little chubby cheeks and along his nose.

The other had green hair so dark it almost looked as black as his brothers. Unlike his brother however, he had only a handful of freckles on each side of his cheeks, much like his father.

"I know we decided on the name Mikumo, before." Inko murmurs in his ear. "So I thought Izuku might be a good name for the other one, don't you think?"

Looking at them as they slumbered on oblivious to the world made hot, fresh tears trail down his face. He opens his mouth of speak but finds himself unable to.

Instead he looks up to Inko and finds her teary eyed herself.

He puts his head to hers and manages to choke out, "They're beautiful."

And so, begins the story of Midoriya Izuku and Midoriya Mikumo.