Archive of Our Own ^beta

The heavy snowflakes drifted from the sky in thick flurries, coating Izuku’s jacket and hair.  He looked up at the sky, growing dark quicker than normal thanks to the solid ceiling of clouds overhead.  He took a deep breath and blew it out, watching the air swirl as it fogged from his mouth.  At the moment there was only a few centimeters of snow layered on the ground but they were piling up quick and he knew that by morning, the snow would be piled high.

He rubbed his hands together, letting the basket handle hook around his elbow.  His mother had sent him to deliver a jar of jam to each of their neighbors for Christmas.  Fortunately, only one jar remained.  Unfortunately, it was the jar that was supposed to go to the reclusive Mr. Shigaraki on the far edge of town.

Izuku bit his lip, wondering if he really had to go to Mr. Shigaraki’s house.  The man never spoke to anyone.  He would never know he’d been missed.  He had always made Izuku warry, if not outright afraid, when he’d been younger.  Mr. Shigaraki was the kind of man who would kick a puppy if it was in his way- Izuku had seen him do it.  Izuku had heard stories about Mr. Shigaraki killing children who snuck into his fields and eating them.  Those were just stories, he was sure now that he was older, but he had never liked the way Mr. Shigaraki looked at him.

Izuku paused when he saw the lights of Mr. Shigaraki's cabin.  He glanced up at the sky again.  It was getting to be evening.  It would take him thirty minutes to walk home.  His mother would have Christmas dinner on the table soon, and Mr. Yagi was coming over to eat with them.  Izuku hoped this meant that his mother and Mr. Yagi would have an exciting present for him, like news that they were getting married, but while Mr. Yagi and his mother had been getting closer, he doubted they were that close yet.  What a disappointment.  He would just have to settle for having Mr. Yagi around, the best present he could ask for.

Izuku bit his lip and glanced from his basket and the last jar of jam to the sky, to the cabin, and back to the jam.  He sighed heavily.  He had to do it.  He was almost fourteen now- too old to believe silly stories about murderers.  He lived in a quiet village- nothing like that ever happened here.  He squared his shoulders and walked towards the cabin.

When Izuku knocked on the door, he found himself hoping that maybe Mr. Shigaraki wasn’t really home.  Maybe he’d gone somewhere and left the fire burning and Izuku could just leave his gift on the porch, hoping it wouldn’t freeze before it was found.  But it only took a moment for the door to open.

Mr. Shigaraki looked down with his cold eyes.  Izuku’s heart jumped, remembering that Mr. Shigaraki had looked at the puppy that same way before he kicked it.  But an instant later the look vanished, replaced by a kind smile.  “My goodness, what a surprise!” He said, looking Izuku over.  “A little snowman, come to deliver me a Christmas gift?”

Izuku blushed and shook some of the snow from his head and shoulders.  “My mother sent me to give you this.” He said, fumbling with cold hands to get the last jar out.

“Please come in, little one.” Mr. Shigaraki offered, opening the door wide enough for Izuku to feel the satisfying wave of warmth from inside.  He didn’t want to go in, but remembered that he hadn’t had a problem stopping in at the other houses when dropping off gifts.  It was just because he’d never spoken to Mr. Shigaraki before and because he was nervous of the rumors he’d heard.  It was time he grew out of those things.

“Thank you, sir.” Izuku said politely, stepping into the cabin.  He scuffed his boots on the doormat, not wanting to track mud and wet into a stranger’s home.

Mr. Shigaraki closed the door behind him and helped brush away the snow from his jacket.  “Let’s see… Izuku, isn’t it?  Izuku Midoriya?”

“Yes, sir.” Izuku nodded.  His wet hair dripped cold drops onto his face and neck, making him shudder slightly.

“Let me get you a towel.” Shigaraki said, quickly moving to rummage through a cabinet.

Izuku looked around the cabin while he did.  It reminded him of Mr. Yagi’s home.  Utilitarian and lacking the homey touches and decorations of his mother’s home.  Mr. Yagi’s house had always felt inviting.  Perhaps because he was so warry, Mr. Shigaraki’s home didn’t have quite the same warmth.  It was warm though, physically, thanks to the massive fire blazing in the hearth.

Mr. Shigaraki came back with a towel and dried Izuku’s hair.

“Thank you, sir.” Izuku said, blushing again and handing him the jam jar.  “This is for you.”

“This looks delicious.” Mr. Shigaraki smiled and Izuku decided that he must have been scared of nothing.  “I’ll put this away and get you something warm to drink.”

“I really can’t stay.” Izuku said, looking over his shoulder at the closed door, thinking of the falling snow on the other side.  He needed to get home soon, before it got worse.

“But, baby, it’s cold outside.” Shigaraki said with a smile over his shoulder.

Izuku startled slightly at the familiarity.  He wasn’t sure how to respond to that.  He barely knew Shigaraki.  This was their first time ever speaking.  Before he could think of a reply, Mr. Shigaraki was already coming back with a steaming mug in his hands.

“I’ve been hoping you’d drop in.” Shigaraki said, offering the drink to Izuku.

“My mother is going to worry.” Iuzku said, shuffling a small step back.  He could imagine her hovering by the window, wringing her hands, checking the clock.  He pictured Mr. Yagi pacing the floor, boots already on, waiting for the moment when he felt Izuku was in trouble to come after him.

Shigaraki placed the cup in Izuku’s hands anyways, wrapping his own over Izuku’s.  His hands were as big as Mr. Yagi’s, making Izuku remember that one of the reasons he’d been afraid of him when he was little was because of how large he was.

“My goodness, your hands are just like ice!” Mr. Shigaraki exclaimed.  “You should warm up a little more before you go back out there.”

Izuku bit his lip again, listening to the roar of the fireplace.  Getting warm did sound nice, but he didn’t want to delay getting back home.  Once he was home, he could stay warm without having to worry about going into the snow again.  Absently, he sipped at the drink, puffing carefully to cool it down so he wouldn’t burn himself.

“Maybe just for a minute…” He said slowly.

Mr. Shigaraki smiled again, guiding Izuku away from the door to the fire.  He seemed nicer than Izuku had expected.  His childhood fears really were out of hand.  Mr. Shigaraki may kick puppies, but he didn’t eat children.  There was nothing to worry about.

“Did you just say, kick puppies?” Mr. Shigaraki asked, raising an eyebrow as he sat down on the bench next to Izuku.

“D-Did I?” Izuku stammered, hoping Mr. Shigaraki thought his cheeks were still red only from the cold.

“I might have misheard you.” Mr. Shigaraki chuckled.  “You were mumbling.”

Izuku nodded and sipped again so he wouldn’t have to say anything.  He drank a bit too fast this time and burned his tongue.

“Don’t be in a hurry, little one.” Mr. Shigaraki cautioned.  “Are you all right?”

Izuku nodded again.  “‘m fine.” He mumbled, embarrassed.

“I was about to put a Christmas record on.  Would you like to listen with me?” Shigaraki asked, turning to the table next to them to set the needle down.

Mr. Shigaraki had a nice record player, nicer than any Izuku had seen before.  He remembered another rumor he’d heard about that man, that he was actually very rich.  Some people said he was a criminal who had stolen all of his money and lived in the quiet village so the police wouldn’t find him.  Izuku thought that was a bit far-fetched- more small village talk.

Izuku listened to the music while he sipped.  Mr. Shigaraki was humming along.  Izuku was tempted to as well.  This was the same record his mother had picked up at the store last week and they’d been listening to it a lot.  He wiggled his toes, noting that the tingling sensation of cold to hot had faded away.  He looked down at the mug and decided he could drink down to half before he had to go.

Mr. Shigaraki leaned back and pulled the curtains aside to peer out the window behind them at the white scene.  “It’s bad out there.” He commented.

Izuku nodded.  He had to get going now before it got any worse.  “What’s in this drink?” He asked.

“Hm?” Shigaraki turned back to him.

“I’ve never had anything like it before.” Izuku said.  “It was really good- what is it?”

“Chocolate.” Shigaraki said, smiling at him again.  “Hot chocolate.”

No wonder it was so delicious.  Who had the money to melt chocolate down into a drink?  Izuku was used to hot teas and coffee but this had been a delightful treat.  He was tempted to stay and finish it, but no.  “I really should go home now.” He said.

“Go?” Mr. Shigaraki looked startled.  “And how do you intend to get there?  It’s not like you can call a cab out here, especially in this weather.”

As if Izuku had money for a cab.  He laughed and shook his head.  “I’ll just walk!  It’s not that far.”

“Look out the window at that storm, little one.  I’ve never seen such a blizzard before.”

Izuku turned to look, his laugh fading to a worried frown.  He shouldn’t have stayed.  He’d secretly hoped the snow might die down a bit, but it had done the opposite.  “Well… I really can’t stay.”

“Baby, it’s cold outside.” Shigaraki repeated.  “Why don’t you wait here?  I’ll call your mother and let her know.”

There it was again, that pet name.  Izuku shifted uncomfortably.  “We don’t have a phone.” He said, sidestepping the awkward feeling in his stomach.  “I’ll just have to go.”

“But, baby you’d freeze out there.” Mr. Shigaraki said.  “It’s so lucky you dropped in to see me, otherwise you’d be out there in it right now.”

It would be cold, and he didn’t look forward to having to travel through the blizzard.  It was dark now too, though the white snow would reflect back whatever light it caught and give the night a bleary glow.  He didn’t want to be in the snow.  What he wanted was to be home with his mother.

“Why don’t you just stay with me?” Mr. Shigaraki suggested in a soft voice.

Izuku realized he’d been quiet and was sure his anxiety was written all over his face.  He looked up quickly, his fingers tightening around the warm mug.  “No!” He said, more quickly and more loudly than he’d meant to.  When he saw Shigaraki blink in surprise, he hurried to soften the blow.  “I mean, you’ve given me such a nice and warm welcome and you’ve been just- I don’t know, um, grand?  And I’m really grateful but I’ve just gotta go home!”

“Baby, it’s cold outside.” Mr. Shigaraki repeated again, using the patient kind of voice that grownups used when they thought children were being unreasonable.  “It’s up to your knees out there.”

“C-Could you lend me a coat?” Izuku practically begged.  He should have listened to his mother and dressed more warmly before leaving the house.  He should have worn his coat, hat and gloves, not just his jacket and scarf.

“Stay here.” Shigaraki offered, still talking in a gentle voice.  His deep tones made Izuku feel tired and he felt himself sinking further down onto the bench the more he tried to make himself stand.

“No.” Izuku shook his head.  “Don’t you see?  I really can’t stay.”

“Just think of my lifelong sorrow if I let you go out there right now and you got pneumonia and died.” Shigaraki went on.  “How could you do that to me?”

That really wasn’t fair.  Izuku wasn’t going to get pneumonia and even if he did, that wouldn’t be Mr. Shigaraki’s fault.  He blinked up at him, his brain circling itself slowly as it searched for a reply.  Very slowly.  He felt tired.  His lids felt heavy.  It must be from how hot the fire was.  Why did Shigaraki have such a big fire?  It had been wonderful at first, but now, sitting so close, Izuku was getting too hot.

“Your eyes are like starlight.” Mr. Shigaraki said, his soft smile looking a bit satisfied.  “Just like my Yoichi’s.”

“Hn?” Izuku frowned, blinking several times to try and get the dryness out of his eyes.

Mr. Shigaraki put an arm around Izuku and pulled him closer.  “Stay with me.” He said again.

Izuku blinked a few more times, slower blinks than before.  He felt like he was under a spell.  He wanted to say, “No, sir.” but his tongue was dry.  He wanted to take his jacket off he was so hot.  He was thirsty too.  He looked at the hot chocolate, focusing hard on trying to remember how to drink.

“Wa’s in this?” He asked again, not noticing the way his words slurred.

“Hot chocolate.” Mr. Shigaraki told him again, assisting him with bringing the cup to his lips so he could take a sip.  “And a few other… special ingredients I’ve been preparing for you.”

The hot chocolate had cooled enough that Izuku could take a bigger drink without burning himself.  “I have’ta go.” He said, struggling to get the words out.  “Mom’s gonna… um, mommy’s… she’s… be worried.”

“Yes, yes.” Shigaraki soothed.  “But it’s cold outside, baby.”

“Not… baby.” Izuku mumbled.

“What’s that?”

“‘m not a baby.” Izuku repeated.  He drank the last of his hot chocolate, then tried to take another drink, frowning heavily when there wasn’t any left.

Shigaraki laughed.  He had a deep laugh, almost like Mr. Yagi.  Mr. Yagi was at home, with his mother.  They were worried about him.  He should be home.  He should be listening to Christmas music with them, drinking and eating yummy food, exchanging Christmas presents, singing and laughing together.  His jacket and sweater underneath felt itchy and sweaty.  It was too hot by the fire.  The hot chocolate hadn’t quenched his thirst.  He wanted more.  But first he wanted to close his eyes.  Just for a moment.  Then he had to go home.  Back in the snow.  First he had to close his eyes.  Close his eyes and then… and then…

Izuku woke up feeling cozy and well rested.  He was curled up in bed, heavy blankets piled on top of him, toasty down to his toes.  He groaned slightly as he woke and stretched.  He wondered what time it was- had he slept in?  What day was it?  A weekend?  A holiday?  He startled slightly as he realized that it was Christmas!  Why hadn’t his mother woke him?

Izuku sat up and rubbed his eyes, pushing the covers back.  He felt a little too well rested, the kind that made his head ache slightly.  He closed his eyes for a moment, pressing his palms into them.  He needed something to drink.  His mouth was sandpaper dry, his tongue heavy.  He blinked a few times, then looked around.

Despite how warm he was, Izuku felt a cold chill creep over his entire body.  This was not his room.  This wasn’t even his house.  This wasn’t even a place he recognized.  Where was he?  How did he get here?  What was going on?

The room looked nice with a big rug and a couch next to a small stove that was keeping the space warm, but he couldn’t see any windows.  There was a small, three foot tall Christmas tree in the corner with over a dozen wrapped boxes with big bows piled around it.  The bed he was in was covered in quilts and pillows and stuffed animals.  None of them were his.  Even the pajamas he was wearing were not his.

Just before Izuku swung his legs out of the bed to investigate further, the door opened and he looked up to see Mr. Shigaraki step in.  He was carrying a tray with a plate and mug and beamed brightly when he saw Izuku sitting up.

“Good morning, little one.” He said, closing the door behind him.  Izuku caught a glimpse of dark stairs going up just before the door closed.  Mr. Shigaraki set the tray down on a short table on the other side of the couch.  “Merry Christmas!”

Izuku stared at him for a moment, heart racing.  His instincts told him to be afraid, but he needed to stay calm and reasonable.  He quickly looked around the room, licking his lips.  “Wh-Where am I?”

“This is my basement.” Mr. Shigaraki explained.  He came and sat down next to Izuku.  Izuku pulled back.  Mr. Shigaraki was smiling at him and while that should have put him at ease, he only felt more alarmed and anxious.

“Why am I here?” Izuku asked.

Mr. Shigaraki beamed brighter, reaching out to brush his fingers through Izuku’s hair.  “This is where you stay now.”

“Wh-What?” Izuku stammered, sure he’d heard that wrong.

“You’re up just in time.” Mr. Shigaraki continued as if Izuku hadn’t said anything.  “I was afraid you were going to sleep clear through Christmas, but it’s just before midnight so we haven’t missed it.  I’ve been so looking forward to spending Christmas with you, baby…”

Mr. Shigaraki took Izuku’s face in his hands and kissed his forehead.  Izuku was more alarmed than ever, ducking and pushing the man away.  It was almost too much for him to process at once- Mr. Shigaraki expected him to stay here?  And what did he mean it was nearly midnight?  Had Izuku slept through the entire day?  What about his mother?

“You're so cute.” Shigaraki chucked at Izuku's panicked expression.  “Come here, baby.”

“No!” Izuku pushed his hands away as he tried to reach for him.  “No, I have to go!”

“Go?  Go where?”

“Home!” Izuku hurried to pull his legs out from under the covers.  “Mom is going to be so worried about me!”

Mr. Shigaraki grabbed Izuku as he tried to crawl out of bed, pulling the boy into his lap.  “Your mother doesn’t need to worry.  I’ll take good care of you.”

“Let go!” Izuku pushed against him, wiggling and kicking his feet to free himself.  “If I don't come home, she’ll think something bad happened to me!”

Mr. Shigaraki shook his head dismissively.  “Never mind that, little one.  Should we get started on Christmas?  I’ll bet you’re hungry.  You can eat first and then open your presents.  I’ve been waiting for so long to give them to you.”

“You don’t even know me!” Izuku said, his voice growing louder and higher with each word.  He fought harder to break free of the man’s grasp.  He felt like he should be angry, but he was more hurt and scared.  He had trusted Mr. Shigaraki, even though he hadn’t wanted to.  Mr. Shigaraki had been kind to him, and Izuku had given him a second chance even though he hadn’t wanted to.

“I've been watching you for a long time, little one.” Mr. Shigaraki said, eyes soft as he spoke.  “Watching and waiting for you to be mine, and now you are, baby.”

“I'm not!” Izuku cried, pushing and pounding his fists against the man.  “I'm not, I'm not!  Pl-Please, don’t eat me!”

“Eat you?” Mr. Shigaraki repeated with a startled laugh.  “Where on earth did you get that idea, baby?  Is that what the children think of me?”

Izuku shook his head, hot tears steadily filling his eyes and running down his cheeks.  “I have to go!” He insisted.  “I can’t stay here!”

“But you will stay here.” Mr. Shigaraki said, standing up and lifting Izuku with him.  “And you’ll love it.  That’s why I chose you- I knew you would be happy with me.”

“No!” Izuku screamed.  He took a deep breath and screamed as loud as he could.  Mr. Shigaraki lived pretty far away from town, a ten minute walk from the closest neighbor, but he knew his mother would have a search party out looking for him, even if it was really close to midnight.  Someone had to be close enough to hear him.  He screamed and screamed until he was gasping for breath, shaking and sobbing in Mr. Shigaraki’s arms.

Mr. Shigaraki didn’t try to stop him.  He sat down on the couch with Izuku, holding him tight against his struggles.  When Izuku was too exhausted to continue, he dried the boy’s tears away and loosened his grip.  “Do you feel better, baby?” He asked.

Izuku hated how nice he sounded.  Like he cared.  He couldn’t care.  Mr. Shigaraki wasn’t allowed to care about him- not when he’d lied to him, not when he’d locked him up here, not when he’d made him miss Christmas with his mother and Mr. Yagi.  Izuku tried to push him away again, but Mr. Shigaraki just smiled at him.

“It’s all right, baby.” He assured him.

“I’m not a baby!” Izuku cried, angrily drying away new tears.

“Aren’t you, though?” Mr. Shigaraki chuckled.

“I’m not your baby!” Izuku corrected himself.  “Let me go!  I have to go home!  I’ll s-scream until s-someone hears me!”

“No one is out looking for you this late, little one.” Mr. Shigaraki told him.  “And once they find out that you drowned in the river, they’ll stop looking for you.”

“Why would they think I drowned?” Izuku exclaimed.

“Because I threw some of your things in the river last night after you fell asleep last night.” Mr. Shigaraki explained, smiling at him the way grownups did when they were telling little children what they thought to be simple answers.

“They’ll know it was you!” Izuku’s fists tightened as he latched onto the idea of Mr. Shigaraki getting caught, and someone coming to save him.  “They’ll follow your tracks!”

“But there are no tracks.  Not after how much it snowed.”

“M-Mom knows I wouldn’t fall into the river!” Izuku went on, not sure if Mr. Shigaraki was telling the truth about the snow or not.  “It’s not even close to the way home from here!”

“But in that awful blizzard last night it’s easy for a little boy like you to lose his way.” Mr. Shigaraki’s patient smile grew wider.  “That’s why you fell into the river.  Even if you hadn’t, it was so cold last night that it’s probable you froze to death by now.  I even helped your mother look for you, and things looked pretty bad.”

“Why are you doing this?” Izuku cried.  “Wh-What did I do to you?”

“I know this must be so confusing for you, baby, but your big brother is going to take care of everything from now on.” Mr. Shigaraki gave him a squeeze and kissed the side of his head.

“I don’t have a big brother!” Izuku cried, feeling the distress growing in a big knot inside his chest.

“What about Papa, then?” Mr. Shigaraki asked.  “How do you like that?”

“No!” Izuku kicked weakly.  “No!  Let me go!”

“No?  Then you can call me Daddy instead.  Do you like that better?”

Izuku opened his mouth, then closed it and swallowed.  Mr. Shigaraki was talking about himself.   But- why did he want Izuku to call him big brother, or Papa?  He wasn’t Izuku’s family!  Izuku just had his mother, and maybe someday he would have Mr. Yagi too, if Mr. Yagi and his mother fell in love and got married like he’d been wishing for, but Mr. Shigaraki wasn’t like that at all!  The bad feeling that he’d always got when he saw Mr. Shigaraki, the feeling that had been pulling tighter and tighter inside him all this time, felt like it might burst and overwhelm him.

Mr. Shigaraki’s smile looked happier than ever.  “I was hoping you would like Daddy the best.” He said, taking Izuku’s lack of reply for a yes.   He pulled Izuku into a tight hug and kissed him again, snuggling him like a soft puppy.

Izuku whimpered, too afraid to say anything.  There was something wrong with Mr. Shigaraki, but it wasn’t the kind of wrong a child like him could do anything about.  His mother or Mr. Yagi would know what to do.  Would they really think he was dead?  He couldn’t imagine such a horrible thing for them to have to believe, especially on Christmas.  His mother was probably crying, just like he was now, except that she was in their warm home where she belonged, where Izuku was supposed to be.

“Shh… don’t cry, baby.” Mr. Shigaraki soothed as Izuku’s sobs returned in full force.  “You’ll get used to it.  Here, have your hot chocolate.  It’s cooled down just enough.”

“I don’t want it!” Izuku cried, twisting away to hide his face.  “I don't want anything from you!”

“You’ll feel much better.” Mr. Shigaraki promised, trying to guide the cup to Izuku’s lips.

“No!” Izuku cried again.  “No, you’ll trick me again!”

“It won’t make you sleepy this time, baby.” Mr. Shigaraki promised, but Izuku already knew that he could never trust Mr. Shigaraki again, no matter what he did or said.

“I won’t drink it!” Izuku pushed back, nearly knocking the mug out of Mr. Shigaraki’s hands.

“Careful, little one!” Mr. Shigaraki hurriedly set the mug back on the short table.  “You could have burned yourself, or ruined your new Christmas pajamas!”

“I hate you!” Izuku nearly wiggled out of Mr. Shigaraki’s grasp, but Mr. Shigaraki was so much bigger than him, he was easily able to pull Izuku back again.  Izuku screamed again, fighting as hard as he could.  He wore himself out more quickly this time and soon found himself cuddle up against Mr. Shigaraki, throat too sore to scream any more, eyes too dry to cry anymore, lungs too spent to keep up with his sobs.

“It’s all right.” Mr. Shigaraki said again, much too calm and happy for how awful he was treating Izuku.  “Have something to eat now and then we can open your presents before you go back to bed.  I think you’ll be too tired to play with your new things tonight.”

Even though he didn’t want to, Izuku took a bite of the toast when Mr. Shigaraki put it up to his lips.  He was too tired to fight back anymore.  He was hungry, much as he hated to admit it.  Mr. Shigaraki gave a pleased smile and cooed softly as Izuku started to sniffle and chew, slowly calming back down.

“Isn’t that much better, baby?” Mr. Shigaraki asked.

Izuku chewed a few more times, then froze.  He wanted to spit the food out, but he couldn’t move.  There was jam on the bread, raspberry peach jam.  There was only one person in the village who made raspberry peach jam.  It was his favorite.  He had helped pick the berries, had peeled the peaches himself.  He had never wanted something out of his mouth so badly before.

It was his mother’s jam.

Mr. Shigaraki hugged Izuku tight again, planting another kiss on the side of his head and whispering to him.  “Merry Christmas, baby.”

Izuku spit the half chewed food out all over his new Christmas pajamas- and Mr. Shigaraki- and screamed.