————

"You okay, little man?"

Nemuri offered a comforting smile to the kid, popping in the white buttons on his light blue, cute, and plaid polo, with dress pants and slip-ons. The kid fidgeted, shy, but returned the smile ten fold- as if he was the one comforting her even though the direction of his life was the one hanging on the line.

Izuku gave a nod, hooking his ankles around each other in a nervous and antsy action, anxiety spiking to a high degree at the feeling of being so small.

They both stood, Nemuri thrice as tall as him now due to the added height from the sharp, sleek and elegant deep purple heels she wore- matched by a light violet top and a plaid skirt, a black handbag held by her freshly manicured hand.

She wore her hair in a tight, gel-slick bun, a black fluffy ponytail holding her thick hair back to look presentable.

They were the only ones who stood in an empty hall- walls covered in gold, picture frames with people in suits hung on them. Some marble animal carvings (mostly cats and tigers) lined the red carpet, followed by freshly plucked stargazers to add more feeling. And to top it all of, hanging above their heads was a crystal chandelier.

Izuku, poor child, clung to Midnight like a lifeline, hiding behind her to avoid the dead gazes of stuffed and preserved animals, not liking how everything just seemed so.. Big. He was intimidated- if this was bad, how was the courtroom going to be?

"Hey hey, calm down." Nemuri soothed him, flicking the bangs aside to avoid hiding his face, green orbs welling up with tears- and his pink lips deepening into a frown as he hiccuped. He felt so overwhelmed.

What if he lost against them?

What if Shota was mad at him for causing him trouble?

What if Shota gave up and-

"Izuku, trust me when I say that I know that Aizawa won't give you up."

Oh. He had been speaking out loud again.

Nemuri felt her heart crack when a pair of wide, glassy eyes bubbling with tears looked up at her. "Really?" The tone was broken, quiet, as if unsure whether or not he wanted confirmation. She nodded, a firm, gentle reminder that made Izuku felt reassured.

————

"You do have a plan, judging by the way you look half-dead. Were you up all night?"

Toshinori, in his weak, brittle form chuckled dryly, washing his hands next to Aizawa- who leaned on the sink to try and support his body weight. They had rushed to the bathroom, both of them, so Toshinori could preserve his time limit and not waste it on standing outside too much.

(Plus, Aizawa really, really wants to surprise the court with the number one hero as a witness. He didn't like it when heroes used their heroism to gain the spotlight- proven by the wall between him and Yagi, but he must admit, it has it's perks.)

"You will step in as the third witness," Aizawa cuts to the chase, shoving the useless small talk aside. It was too late to make the conversation less awkward, anyway. "Just answer everything truthfully."

Yagi flinched at the cold tone, opening his mouth to say something before he was interrupted again. "And I advise you, Toshinori," Shota looked at him. And for the first time in years, Yagi saw compassion, a burning match hot with determination flickering through his eyes usually devoid of emotion.

"Do not lie for the sake of the boy. It will complicate everything further."

—————

"Do not speak unless spoken to." Aizawa kept a gentle grip on the boy's arm, nodding at Nemuri at a silent "thank you" for keeping him from freaking out. Izuku looked alleviated, but nonetheless terrified.

All Might, in his muscular form, stood beside them, hovering and way taller than the father-son duo. He had his signature grin on, bright and assuring, as expected from the number one hero. "Young Midoriya, Aizawa," he acknowledges calmly, voice bouncing off the empty corridor walls as he gestured to the large golden doors that led to the court room.

"Would you both like to enter the court room already?"

———

'It was bright', Izuku decided the moment the tall, scary doors creaked open. Cameras flashed left and right, blinding him, as consistent murmuring and animated chattering echoed around him, like a fly's irritating buzz to his ears.

(It sounded like his own head.)

Everything was cylindrical, even the court room, which had some stands on each side, separated simply by their intent- by their opinion on whether or not a child like Izuku, should cease to exist. Scary.

(Izuku clung tighter to Shouta's sleeve.)

"Sir! Sir!"

A feminine voice rose to a pitch, capturing Izuku's attention, along with Aizawa's as well. The woman, who was obviously a journalist, sported clumps of feathers sprouting from her head down to her chubby hips, waving a desperate hand as she called out from the front of the crowd.

"What's your opinion on the child!?"

"A lot of people had suggested to get rid of him!"

"Is he really your biological son!?"

Izuku's breath hitched as he was led down the narrow pathway, tripping and being shoved around, along with squeezing through tall people with cameras, grabbing at him with their greedy paws. The air in his lungs left him hyperventilating when tears sprung easily into action-

Until Aizawa swept him off his feet, carrying him, and protectively draping his capture weapon around his frail body. His hair draped over him like a curtain, concealing him easily from the journalist's and media's eyes.

Warmth replaced the creeping anxiety in his system- and for once through his whole ordeal, he felt protected, secure..

"You're safe, kid." Aizawa reminded him, grunting as he ignored the journalists yapping like rabid dogs for answers.

Izuku nodded hesitantly, drowning out the protests, the yelling, and sunk into the peaceful buzz of all the chaos. He too, found himself practically growing boneless, as he sunk into his father's hug.

"You'll be alright."