Third person pov

Nighteye may be on the verge of a mental breakdown. It's still a little too soon to tell.

Though he and Toshinori had a falling out, he doesn't care for the man any less than he did before. He just... he couldn't stick around and watch the blonde destroy himself. The road the number one pro was on was short and uneven, and it ended with his death, too harsh and sharp to possibly be avoided. The mere fact that Toshinori had continued to do hero work despite Sasaki's pleading was just the first step on a set of stairs that would send All Might spiraling to his predicted end.

He sits now in his office, squinting rather suspiciously at his computer screen. All Might's face surrounded him from every angle, smiling at him from the walls. Mirai doesn't mind. He's too used to it and admires him too much to ever be bothered. In fact, he rather draws comfort from the familiarity as he scrolls through the Pro Hero's news articles, all of them reporting on the same remarkable feat that he honestly hadn't thought possible. Probably because it wasn't, but seeing so many reputable sources say the same thing made it harder to ignore.

All Might had been pulling long shifts. Longer than he had in the past year, working for upwards of eight hours a day without halt. He didn't appear at all on the weekends, his previous schedule of working daily for around three hours had been the usual for the past year now. To see the sudden spike of activity had sent criminals scampering back into their hidey holes, fearful at the Number One Hero's burst of newfound activity. Looking at the videos of the man, Mirai was... he felt blown away. It was no wonder crime rates were dropping all over Japan.

Toshinori looked just like he did before, eyes bright and grin unrestrained. The tired shadows on his face were no more, his expression proud and his posture strong. He darted around from attack to attack, traveling through the air instead of vanishing into back alleys after fights, now full of his previous bravado. He stopped to sign autographs and talk to fans, taking selfies with them just as he used to and interacting. He was trending all over Twitter, the public crowing with absolute joy over his return. Though he hadn't exactly left before, it sure felt like he was coming back from something. They were too happy to question just what that something was, but Mirai knew. He knew and he had questions.

Sasaki drums his long fingers against his desk, a deep frown set on his face. He raked his brain for possibilities on how this could've happened and came up dry. They'd tried everything. He'd been there with Toshinori throughout the whole thing, watching doctor after doctor and quirk after quirk filter in and out of his hospital room, all of them hoping to help but never able to. It was a miracle Toshinori was even alive, and how he was able to do any hero work at all following the attack was beyond Nighteye. 

The sudden spike in activity shouldn't have been possible. It drove him insane, because he had most certainly not predicted this. Nighteye would almost claim it to be fake-- a trick or imposter-- if he didn't know any better. He knew Toshinori better than he knew himself, and this was without a doubt him. His earnest expression couldn't be faked, nor could his heroism. His punches were backed by the power of the sun, which shined through his bright eyes and even brighter smile. He was blinding, just like he had been all those years ago when Sasaki first started working with him. It made his heart swell with emotion, and he knew he needed answers sooner rather than later.

With a huff, he pushed himself back in his chair, standing with a definitive goal in mind. To his knowledge, Toshinori's address hadn't changed, and this was without a doubt a conversation to be had in person. Glancing at the time, Toshinori's new shifts would be long over by now. And if the man wasn't in his apartment when Sasaki got there, well, he was willing to wait.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Get back here!" Toshinori bellowed gleefully. Izuku raced through the living room at breakneck speed, weaving around the boxes of merch the blonde hero had still yet to clean up. Izuku had seemed astonished that he'd dare to think about throwing it away, his judgmental gaze more than enough to stop Toshinori in his tracks. He'd been ever so slowly siphoning it away, donating it to fans and orphanages and foster children, whilst Izuku was at school. When he wasn't too caught up doing his job as a hero, of course. It was all too easy to get caught up in the new, lively swing of things.

"You'll never catch me!" Izuku declared, knowing full and well his new dad could scoop him up anytime he so pleased with his insane speed. Still, that didn't stop him from trying, sliding over the coffee table like a ninja and landing in a roll. He hadn't gotten to play like this since his mom died, and even she had been meeker, less willing to bound after him and race through their apartment. He didn't love her any less because of it. He'd never shift his view of her over something so petty. Yet, he could also acknowledge the way his heart was beating with reckless abandon as well. This was fun, and that was okay. 

"You can't escape Tickle Might forever." Toshinori said with dawning seriousness, his expression grim. Izuku shrieked with laughter, ducking and rushing away when the man bore down upon him again. Toshinori was not ashamed to admit just how much entertainment he derived from playing with Izuku. The childish games he came up with were interesting-- and most of them even had plot! Was that normal for kids or was it just Izuku? Did he really care? His son was a genius! And a cute one, too! Dave would have a field day talking to the kid, he was sure.

The past few days had flown by blissfully. Toshinori could recall the last time he'd been this happy. Izuku's intelligence seemed to grow by the day, his brain soaking up information like a little sponge. He grew happier the longer he was here, flourishing. It was more than Toshinori could've ever dreamed for the boy. He wasn't all that sad or hesitant anymore, coming into himself with Toshinori's firm nudging and acceptance. Toshinori still hadn't asked how he'd ended up in the orphanage or the story behind his quirk, but that was okay. They'll get there.

School was a touchy subject too. Something was wrong, but Toshinori wasn't too sure what. It had kept him tossing and turning most nights, his brain working out trying to figure out what he was hiding. If he asked how his day was, Izuku would report it was good and recite something pleasant that had happened. If asked if he'd had fun, his expression would dim. It wouldn't be too odd if it were any other child, but Izuku loved learning. Something was going here. Eventually, he hoped he'd figure out what.

When bringing a new child into your home, it was important to show your unwavering support. You had to make yourself their new safe place, because it was likely they didn't have one otherwise. Pushing them, pressuring them in any way, was heavily advised against unless it was an emergency or matter of safety. Izuku seemed okay enough to him, despite Toshinori's concerns about school. The matter doesn't feel pressing, and Toshinori has learned to listen to his gut. He'll do that here as well. Izuku will come to him eventually.

He scoops the kid up, grin widening at the eruption of laughter he was met with. Yes, he definitely seemed at least alright to Toshinori, so the hero saw no reason to try and force him to talk about something he may not be ready to tell him. All things took time, and this was something he was not willing to mess up. He dared not risk it. This, Toshinori felt, was far too important to play around with.

"Fiend." Izuku gasped from his place cradled in All Might's massive arm. All Might boomed a laugh.

"Bold words from a hero about to meet their end." Toshinori raised his other hand, swallowing a laugh at the way Izuku froze in his arms, eyes locking onto the slowly approaching appendage. The grin stretched across the freckled-boys face gave away his amused glee. "If you have any last words, now would be the time to say them. Or forever hold-" 

All Might was cut off by the shrill buzz of his doorbell. He jolted slightly, Izuku doing the same. The pair cluelessly stared at the door, turning to each other in near perfect sync as though looking for answers in one another. They hadn't ordered anything today, though the promise of pizza for dinner to celebrate his good test grade still burned bright in the back of Izuku's mind. He hadn't seen Toshinori-san pull out his phone to get two large with extra cheese and Italian sausage, however. All Might shrugged. Izuku shrugged back.

The doorbell gave another obnoxious buzz. Toshinori jolted, seeming to realize he actually had to answer it. Izuku pushed himself up slightly, sitting up in the crook of Toshinori's arm. He was secretly a little pleased he'd avoided the tickle attack. Izuku didn't want to say anything for fear of troubling his guardian, but there was still some discomfort that came with things touching his stomach. The impression of Toshinori's injury was still wafting around. It wasn't something Izuku could just shake away no matter how much he wished that were the case. He could only hope it would eventually fade away completely. He was tired of the pain haunting him.

There were dreams, too. Nightmares where it was dark and he was in pain, so afraid for his life despite not knowing why. He'd try to open his eyes to see where he was but it was almost no use. The most he'd get was a flutter of the eyelids, giving a blurry impression of something grey and rocky. Rubble? Izuku was afraid to ask. The injury seemed personal, and the last thing he wanted to do was pry. 

Toshinori threw the door open, freezing in place instantly when his blue eyes met a familiar pair of yellow. He felt his breath escape him at the sight of his sidekick, belatedly noting that he probably should've seen this coming from a mile away. It hadn't really occurred too much to him that he should contact his colleagues. Nighteye, Gran Torino, and probably Tsukauchi as well. He'd been so wrapped up in Izuku's arrival that he hadn't put thought into it. Foolish. Now he and Izuku were stuck in a... uncomfortable situation. 

Nighteye froze too, eyes roaming Toshinori's face briefly before they dropped to the child sitting on his arm. Izuku stared back, lips pressed together and cheeks puffed out awkwardly, his eyes wide and darting between Toshinori and his old sidekick as he held his breath. He didn't know what had caused their falling out, but he was ever the hero nerd and hadn't been completely in the dark about it. They weren't working together anymore. They hadn't for about a year now, and noting the arrival of Toshinori's injury, it was pretty clear what might've caused that.

A part of him fanboyed. This was Sir Nighteye! All Might's sidekick! Which yeah, All Might was his dad now, but he was still sort of in shock about that and was struggling to process. Making the mental connection between the All Might he saw on screen growing up and the dorky one who'd decided to adopt him wasn't as easy as it sounded. Especially when he thought about this morning when Toshinori had tried to make himself a curly mustache out of whipped cream but had ended up inhaling it instead.

Nighteye's expression didn't outwardly change. He looked between their matching shirts-- Dad Might and All Son. A sharp inhale was all the real reaction he gave, mind reeling trying to figure out where this kid had come from. They looked young, but not so young that he could've been born this last year he and All Might were apart. They had to be at least eight based on their size, possibly older. All Might just stood there like the massive oaf he was, kid still perched there like a bird.

Nighteye wasn't sure what to say, all the questions he'd been building up dying on the tip of his tongue at this new variable. Yet another thing he had not seen in All Might's future. Had his quirk failed him? Was it not working? This had never happened before. His ability had... it had always been absolute.

He watched Toshinori and the child suddenly look each other. They seemed to communicate with their eyes for a moment. The freckled child raised their eyebrows at him, jerking his head at Nighteye slightly. Toshinori looked like he'd just sucked on a lemon. He painstakingly turned his head back towards Mirai, giving a grin that was tense at best. Sasaki only half regretted not calling inside, his curiosity drawing his gaze back to the child. He and Toshinori were clearly close. Father and son... Toshinori had never mentioned a kid. This had to be a new development. 

"I, uh, suppose you should come in." Toshinori gave a stilted chuckle, stepping to the side. Nighteye side-eyed him hard but bobbed his head nonetheless, briskly entering before the blonde hero could change his mind. The child watched him enter. He watched right back, calculating. "We have a lot to talk about. I should have contacted you sooner."

"Indeed." Sasaki's frown creased. He crossed his lanky arms over his chest. The puzzle he'd known so well seemed only muddled now. The green-haired child was a piece he did not recognize-- he did not fit. Yet he held onto All Might, gripping his shirt nervously. And Toshinori held him, so carefully and familiarly. 

"Right, well--" Toshinori coughed a little, clearing his throat. Izuku tugged on his shirt, giving him another look. Toshinori's nose scrunched up. Ugh. He loved Mirai and had missed him, really and truly, but this was not what he'd expected. He'd expected a nice evening with his son eating pizza and watching more Might Man Adventures. It had a surprisingly good story line. Lots of backstabbing. "This is Izuku Yagi, my son. I only adopted him recently, but I feel we've gotten on quite well together. Izuku, this is Mirai Sasaki, or Sir Nighteye, my old sidekick and... good friend." The last part was tacked on hesitantly, glancing at Mirai for approval. 

The tall man didn't react, his brain kicking into overdrive with the new information. Son? Son. Toshinori had chosen to adopt a child? Why? When? How recently was recently? They didn't look all that special, rather plain as far as children went. The only things relatively notable were the fact that their face was a map of freckles, spread out like stars fanning across his cheeks and over the bridge of his nose. That, and perhaps his hair. It was a fluffy green mess that curled wildly, matching the iridescent forest color of his eyes. No notable mutations or outward signs of a quirk. No resemblance to Toshinori whatsoever. 

Izuku analyzed Nighteye right back. The man's quirk, foresight, let him get the upper hand in a number of situations. He was an information-oriented hero, working in the background and preferring to stay in the shadows. He and All Might had made for a terrifying team, Nighteye gathering the intel and All Might knocking out the bad guys. He'd always admired Sir's ability to fight without the aid of a combative quirk. He was an inspiration, so level-headed and terrifying. He had to be insanely smart for All Might, someone who'd never taken a side-kick aside from Nighteye in all his time as a hero, to team up with him. It only made their separation all the more tragic.

Izuku was a little scared. What if he didn't like him? Toshinori would listen to his sidekick if the man told him to take him back to the orphanage, right? Would... would he realize he'd made a mistake and get rid of Izuku? The idea made his chest feel hot and tight. He curled in on himself slightly, averting his gaze in a submissive manner that did not go unnoticed by Sir. The action seemed to snap Toshinori from his train of thought, his blue eyes flitting down to Izuku and then back to Mirai. He centered himself and grinned easily. He was the Number One hero! He could adjust. It was just Mirai, and the man had a right to be here. He had to be curious and concerned about the new developments. 

"Come on in and take a seat. Don't mind the mess." Toshinori breezed, glancing back over his shoulder at the man. He smiled. "I think we have a lot of catching up to do."

Mirai gave a small nod and an even smaller smile. It was a start.