It was awkward. There was no other way to describe the atmosphere that swarmed the Bakugo's lounge. Izuku was nestled securely between Mitsuki and Katsuki with Masaru settled in an armchair beside his wife. Opposite the four of them, with a faux look of sympathy on her face, Shinomiya was holding two folders as she explained the process of sending Izuku to a foster home.

"We will, of course, take you to your mother's apartment so that you can collect some more clothes and any other items you might have left behind. Unfortunately, your mother will not be present when this happens as we do have to keep the two of you separated for your own safety." Shinomiya explained in a reedy voice.

"So you're kicking Inko out of her home just so that Izuku can gather some clothes? And what do you mean you're keeping them separated for Izuku's safety, Inko's never laid a hand on the kid!" Mitsuki snapped.

"Yes, we understand that, but we don't wish to impact Izuku or Inko's poor mental health any further."

"And you think keeping them separated is going to have a positive effect on their mental health?" Katsuki scoffed. The glare that Shinomiya shot him could have withered fruits, she had been very against him being present at the meeting, but Izuku had insisted that his best friend stays with him.

"As I was saying," Shinomiya continued, "After you have collected your things from your mother's house, I will take you to your new foster carer's house so that you can settle in as quickly as possible,"

"Wait, so he's leaving today?" Katsuki asked.

"That is the plan, yes," Shinomiya gritted out through clenched teeth, "Social services would like to place Izuku in a safe environment as soon as possible so that we can keep an eye on him and allow him to continue his life as normally as possible,"

Izuku could practically see the fire growing behind Mitsuki's eyes at the insinuation that her home was not safe for him. He could see the steely anger in the set of Masaru's jaws at the insinuation that staying with the Bakugos would inhibit Izuku from living as normally as possible.

Izuku truly did not want to hate social services as a whole, the work they did was commendable and he knew that every social worker had to follow procedures, but he couldn't help the writhing dislike that squirmed in his chest and fought to be released in a torrent of acidic words. Shinomiya was not a good representative of the organisation she worked for. She was too caustic and ingenuine. She treated Izuku like he was simply a commodity being moved from one place to the other, a package to be delivered to 'suitable' owners.

"There are two foster carers who are willing to take you in, both have agreed to long-term care if necessary and they both have a history of caring for children with mental health problems. It is your decision, Midoriya, which one you go to. Don't let anybody else influence your decisions." Shinomiya asserted firmly as she handed the two files over to Izuku.

With some trepidation, Izuku took the files with shaking hands and set them on his lap. He took a deep breath that rattled his ribs and opened the top file.

Kan Sekijiro
30 years old
Biology Professor and Part-time Gym Trainer

Kan is a professor who often volunteers to donate blood alongside organising blood drives for the local hospitals. He is active in the community and partakes in charity events. He is unmarried and doesn't have a partner at the moment. He had cared for several children in the past and has taken several courses concerning and pertaining to children's mental health.

Reading the (what Izuku could only describe as) summary of Kan Sekijiro's experience with foster care and his charitable works, Izuku felt dread building steadily in his chest. He didn't dislike Kan, he seemed like a kind and charitable man, but reading all this information about him only made everything seem more real. Below the summary written by social services was a statement from Kan himself.

I understand that this is a difficult thing for young people to go through, and I am committed to giving young people a place where they feel welcome. I will give them space where they need it, as I understand that some people prefer to digest hard situations by themselves, however, it should be noted that I am always here when they need me.

I enjoy exercising and often go on runs in the evening. I would be very happy to take you along with me if you wanted to start exercising. I am also very passionate about biology, this comes in handy given I am a biology teacher.

Again, Kan seemed like a lovely man. He seemed to respect that it wasn't going to be easy for young people to instantly open up to him, and he was fine with that. If Izuku hadn't been so panicked, he might have instantly picked him.

The picture of Kan showed a rather grizzly-looking man with tanned skin and silver hair. He had a scar on his cheek, he might have seemed intimidating if it weren't for the smile on his face. He looked like he didn't smile a lot, but he didn't look like the type to anger easily either.

His house looked nice. It was a two-bedroom house with a decently sized garden area. It wasn't miles away from the Bakugos, he could easily get a train back here whenever he wanted. The room which would be Izuku's (if he decided to stay with Kan) was painted neutral forest green with grey bedding. The pine wardrobe and desk looked well made and there was still ample space left in the room for Izuku to do whatever he wanted. The house looked nice. Kan Sekijiro looked nice. But Izuku didn't want to live there. He wanted to go home.

"He looks nice, Izuku," Mitsuki whispered comfortingly, "Why don't you look at the other file, then you can make your choice, hmm?"

Izuku nodded his head numbly. He handed Kan's profile to Katsuki, who immediately began flipping through it, scrutinising it closely.

Izuku opened the second file and started reading, the trepidation from before had already diminished a bit, but not enough for Izuku's hands to stop shaking.

Aizawa Shota
30 years old
Psychology Professor and Licensed Therapist

Aizawa is a professor who has been fostering children for eight years. He currently has an adopted daughter. He campaigns for more mental health support in educational settings. He is married but also has another romantic partner (he is part of a polycule) who lives with him and his wife. He has a doctorate in clinical psychology.

Izuku's eyes latched onto the last sentence. He has a doctorate in clinical psychology. That was exactly what Izuku was aiming for. He wanted to do a doctorate in clinical psychology. Izuku quickly buried his head back into the file, his eyes flying over the section that Aizawa himself had written.

I was a child in care myself and whilst I came across some foster carers who were incredibly kind, I've also met a fair few who are not as kind. I want to offer a safe home for young people to come to when they are in need. I am not here to replace their parents or family, I simply want to help them. I enjoy sleeping and after being forced by my wife and partner, I have found that I somewhat enjoy comics.

The picture that accompanied Aizawa's picture showed an extremely tired-looking man with shoulder-length black hair and stubble. Despite the sheer exhaustion shown as clear as day on his face, Aizawa looked kind enough.

Given that there seemed to be three incomes going into the house, it seemed reasonable for Aizawa to live in a four-bedroom house with a large garden, in which there was a wooden playhouse, seemingly for his adopted daughter. It was even closer to the Bakugo house than Kan's, it would probably take Izuku thirty to forty minutes to walk to Aizawa's house from where he currently was. Izuku's (possible) bedroom was painted white. The bedding was forest green, the same shade that Izuku often thought of when he looked into his mother's eyes. There was a small note below the picture of the bedroom that said that the room could be painted whatever colour the foster child wanted when they came to live with Aizawa.

"Huh, look at that, he's got a doctorate in clinical psychology. Seems perfect for you, Nerd," Katsuki teased.

"Yes, Izuku, he could give you some pointers, couldn't he?" Masaru smiled, "But remember, it's your choice where you go. As much as it can be given you only have two options."

The last part of Masaru's sentence was muttered under his breath, his eyes darting towards Shinomiya as he did so.

"As you can see, Midoriya, they're both more than equipped to deal with any mental health worries you may have. I'll give you an hour or so to make your decision-" Shinomiya said.

"Don't worry about it. I pick Aizawa, if I'm being forced to go anywhere, it seems like the smart move to go somewhere where I can receive advice on achieving my dream," Izuku interrupted.

"Are you sure, Midoriya? That was rather quick to choose. I know I presented you with two options, but... You're not used to living with more than one adult, right?"

"I'm also not used to living with only a man. Whilst I'm sure there's very little difference, I have always lived with my mum, who is a woman. Aizawa's wife is a woman."

"Are you sure you want to live with a younger child? They can be a lot to deal with, sometimes."

"I babysit for my neighbours all the time. I've looked after kids from the ages of 6 months to seven, I'm sure I can deal with it."

"Aizawa's wife also has a relationship with a woman who doesn't live with them. She comes over to their house a lot, could you deal with a stranger constantly coming into your space?"

At this, Izuku hesitated.

"I can just stay in my room. It's their house, not mine. Plus, even if it's hard and causes me a lot of anxiety, I'll have to get used to meeting new people eventually. After a while, she'll stop being a stranger."

"I think Izuku has made it clear what his choice is," Mitsuki cut in, "Since he's been forced to make this choice, I think he should be allowed to make it without having your input. After all, you said that he shouldn't let anybody else's opinion influence his choice."

Shinomiya looked somewhat disgruntled, but she nodded and tried to paste a smile back onto her face. "OK, I'll call Aizawa and let him know that Midoriya is going to be living with him for now. I'll come back in about ten minutes to take Midoriya to his mother's house to collect his things."

With that, Shinomiya left the room, pulling her phone from her pocket as she went. Izuku was left with the Bakugos. It was only now registering in his mind that in less than half an hour, he would be pulled out of the bubble of safety he had carved out for himself. Though it was hastily constructed, he'd started making a place for himself in the Bakugo household, even though he knew he would be pulled away soon.

"Let me see Aizawa's file, Izuku," Mitsuki said. Numbly, Izuku handed the file over. He wanted to withdraw into himself so that he didn't have to face the reality of the situation. Why couldn't he just stay with the people he knew?

Izuku was well aware that he had picked Aizawa to live with, so could he really complain? Logically, of course, he could. He was given two options, and he wanted neither one of them, he had simply picked the lesser of two evils (not to say that Kan was inherently evil). But, Izuku wasn't thinking logically, his emotions had been turbulent from the moment he left his home. He hadn't been thinking straight since his mother's alcoholism had become worse.

"You can visit whenever you want, Nerd," Katsuki said, drawing Izuku from his reverie, "This Aizawa guy doesn't live far from here. Plus, if he knows anything about psychology, he'll know that being around people you're comfortable with will help you settle better, so he'll have to let us visit you or vice versa."

"He has a doctorate, Kacchan, I think he knows what he's doing," Izuku chuckled weakly.

Katsuki simply tutted, as he usually did, and crossed his arms. Next to him, Masaru and Mitsuki were seemingly analysing the file in front of them with a critical gaze. They exchanged meaningful looks and communicated wordlessly for a minute before they pulled away from each other and turned to Izuku.

"He seems like a lovely man, Izuku. I know you find it hard to meet new people, but maybe living with Aizawa and his partners will give you some confidence. Obviously, we don't know anything about them, but Aizawa seems kind enough so I doubt his partners can be awful," Mitsuki hummed.

Masaru sighed heavily next to his wife, "There are better ways to say that, Dear. But she's right Izuku. I know that you don't want to leave, and we don't want you to either, but you can make a good situation out of this, yeah?"

Izuku nodded and attempted to smile at the family who had so kindly taken him in when he needed a place to stay. He knew that this wasn't goodbye forever, he'd still see Katsuki at school and they'd made it abundantly clear that he was always welcome to visit. He'd see them again, but the fact that he was leaving the semblance of normality and familiarity behind to venture into the unknown made leaving seem like a finality. An ominous event that would alter his life drastically. Maybe there was some truth in that thought. After all, Izuku's life had been altered drastically.

The car journey from the Bakugo residence to Izuku's home was awkward. Shinomiya didn't attempt to make conversation and Izuku didn't feel like trying either. His eyes were damp as he desperately tried to stop his tears from falling. He didn't want to cry in front of his social worker, she already made him feel immature and childish like he didn't know what was going on, that feeling would only be exacerbated if he let his tears fall in her line of sight.

In the car's back seat, the few possessions that Izuku took with him that first night jostled in place as they went over a speed bump. Izuku would only be collecting some extra clothes and his favourite cuddly toy. He'd be in and out within minutes. What was the point in prolonging the torture when his mother wasn't even going to be present?

When they arrived, Izuku darted out of the car and rushed to the front door before Shinomiya could say a word. He darted through the unlocked front door and made a bee-line for his bedroom, he kept his head down and didn't dare look at any of his surroundings. Spending a few days away from the house made Izuku realise how dirty his home had gotten. He couldn't help the swell of guilt in his chest at the thought. He should have done more. He should have tried harder to keep the apartment in order, to keep it clean whilst his mother grieved. She wouldn't want to see it as dirty as it was once she got better. He should have done more, it was too late now. She'd have to clean by herself, without Izuku's company and help. She wouldn't like that. She preferred company when she cleaned.

Upon entering his bedroom, Izuku finally let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding during his trek through the rest of the flat. His eyes darted around his room. Over the desk with several random pieces of paper spread over it. Over the bookcase brimming with books. Over his unmade bed. Over the posters on his walls. His heart settled. He was back and he didn't want to leave, but he had to. Shinomiya would come to collect him if he didn't come out soon.

Izuku went around the room and started stuffing random articles of clothing, books and his favourite stuffed toy into his suitcase. He didn't register everything he picked up. If he looked too long at what he picked up he'd start to reminisce about the memories linked to each item. With a final glance at his bedroom, Izuku rushed from the room, through his room, and to the front door where Shinomiya was waiting for him. He couldn't stay in that place any longer, otherwise, he truly wouldn't leave, he'd break down and start crying on the floor. He couldn't afford to do that. If being away from his mother was what was best for her if it would help her get better sooner, then he would tear himself away from everything he knew, he would do anything so that his mother could get better and he could go back home.

Aizawa's house looked just as it had in the pictures. It really did look lovely and quite large. Yet despite the sense of comfort that filtered into Izuku's mind at the knowledge that he wasn't sold a false image through the pictures he was shown, he was still panicking. His terror had been mounting during the car journey to the house. His forehead was beaded with sweat, his heart thundered in his chest, and his breath came fast and with harsh gasps. He was on the verge of tilting over the edge.

"I understand that this is hard, Midoriya, I know that you would rather not live with somebody you don't know. Look at me please," Shinomiya said in a gentle voice. She spoke calmly as if she was used to children having panic attacks in her passenger seat. "That's it, match your breathing to mine. I understand your trepidation, Midoriya, but I assure you that Aizawa and his partners are lovely people. I've met them several times now. Aizawa knows what it's like to be in your position, he will be able to support you better than most people."

Shinomiya's hand hovered over Izuku's shoulder, unsure whether he would appreciate the foreign touch from somebody he clearly held no love for. Shinomiya didn't ever disillusion herself into believing that every child she came across was happy to leave their parents, to get away from unhealthy environments. Some children, such as Izuku, felt such a strong sense of responsibility to their parents that leaving was hard. It was clear to her that Izuku and Inko loved each other dearly. She wanted them to be together, she didn't enjoy pulling families apart, but it was necessary.

Slowly, Izuku's breathing returned to normal and his profuse sweating calmed down. He wasn't completely calm, it would take longer than a few minutes for him to feel normal, but he was ready to face his new foster carer. He drew in a deep, rattling breath and clenched his fists in his lap. His mother always told him how brave he was, now it was time to live up to her flattering words.

By the time Izuku and Shinomiya actually made it to the front door, Aizawa had already noticed their arrival and opened the door, waiting patiently for them to arrive at the front door.

Aizawa looked much the same as he had in the picture, if not a bit more tired and in more casual clothes. He stood with a slouched posture that did nothing to dampen the strong sense of authority that he seemed to exude effortlessly, Izuku would be lying if he didn't say he was somewhat intimidated by the man standing only a few metres in front of him.

"Aizawa, it's lovely to see you again," Shinomiya bowed in greeting, she quickly got the customary formalities out of the way, "This is Midoriya Izuku, as I informed you over the phone, he will be staying with you for the foreseeable future."

Aizawa nodded in acknowledgement and turned his attention to Izuku. His dark eyes absorbed light like twin black holes, had Izuku passed him on the street he may have averted his gaze out of fear that the man in front of him would glare at him and serve him some harsh words. But Izuku resisted the temptation. He held unsteady eye contact with Aizawa for what felt like minutes, but in reality, was only a few seconds.

"Welcome, Midoriya, I am Aizawa Shota. I understand that this is a hard situation to be in, but I will do my best to support you." Perhaps, had he been a gentler man, Aizawa's words would have been spoken with a soft tone and pitiful gaze, but Aizawa Shota was not a soft man. His tone was not harsh, but it wasn't exactly comforting either. He didn't look at Izuku with pity, which Izuku appreciated. He didn't deserve pity. He didn't want pity.

"Thank you for having me," Izuku responded somewhat belatedly. He didn't sound nearly as confident as he wished he did, but there was nothing to be done about it after the fact.

Aizawa beckoned them into the house, gesturing to the guest slippers and telling them to take a seat wherever they wanted in the sitting room whilst he made them drinks.

Izuku sat, perched on the very edge, of the expensive feeling sofa and looked around the room. The walls were decorated with pieces of art, one of the walls housed several records in glass frames. The television was mounted to the wall with a wooden unit surrounding it, on which several accolades were displayed (though Izuku was too far away to read them), and the bottom shelves of the unit were decorated with children's toys and juvenile drawings.

Aizawa came back into the room with a tray, upon which several glasses of water and tea were balanced.

"As you know, Aizawa, there's not much else to go through. Everything has been sorted. I'll have to leave soon, I'm just dropping Midoriya off and making sure he settles ok. I'll be in contact soon, just to see how Midoriya is getting along," Shinomiya hummed, she lifted one of the cups of tea to her lips and sipped at it.

"Where's your daughter and partners? Are they out of the house?" Shinomiya asked needlessly. It seemed quite obvious to Izuku that Aizawa's family was not present, if they were, surely he would have caught a glimpse of them by now.

"Emi and Hizashi have taken Eri to the park for the afternoon so that Midoriya wasn't overwhelmed upon arriving," Aizawa responded concisely.

"Hmm, ok." Shinomiya said, "I should really be going. We're quite busy at the moment. You have my number, Izuku, if you have any questions, you can contact me or just ask Aizawa."

With that, Shinomiya left the house, leaving Izuku alone with a stranger.

Whilst Aizawa saw Shinomiya out and discussed some details that Izuku had no interest in, Izuku sat on the edge of his seat and stared down at the plush white carpet. His fists clenched in his lap, his eyes started to water, and his heartbeat picked up. He forced all of that down. Sure he was living with a stranger for now, but Aizawa and his family wouldn't be strangers for long. Izuku would get to know them. He'd get over his initial anxiety, he was sure of it. And even if he didn't, he wouldn't be tortured by his anxiety for too long. Soon enough his mum would get better and he'd be going home. He'd be home before he knew it. 

Thank you for reading this chapter, I hope you enjoyed it. Have a wonderful day wherever you are.