Third person pov

Lillian tuned into Present Mic's show every night without fail. She couldn't recall a single time she'd missed a broadcast. It aired in the evenings, hours after any schools would be letting out, and she hadn't exactly had friends before UA. Neito and Hitoshi were fine with her playing it out loud as well, evening making commentary or discussing what Mic was talking about. It was something Lillian found relaxing. It was a comfort. A constant in her life. She'd been listening for as long as she could remember, but now... 

"Hey, hey, hey, Listeners!" Mic crowed into his microphone. His studio wasn't large. Just a little office space with some couches in the corner and some desks in another. Lillian sat stiffly in a chair next to him, fidgeting uncomfortably. There were no cameras or faces. Just Mic's laptop and some sound equipment... along with the microphone looming in front of her. "This week we've got a special guest who's going to be joining us on the show!" 

Mic grinned reassuringly at Lillian, giddiness swelling within him. Lillian looked about two shades paler than she usually was. It was concerning, especially considering how much she was sweating. She looked absolutely terrified of the microphone he'd sat down in front of her. It made him want to wince, but he refrained. He had faith in her! She could do this. They could do this. He was beyond ready to tackle this week. Her choosing him to intern with was a dream come true! He refused to let her down.

"I'm sure plenty of you tuned in to the Sports Festival! That's right, you know where this is going. The precious Lillian has chosen to intern with me!" Mic squealed the last sentence out in a way that made Lillian flush with embarrassment. "She's here to work on her confidence, so let's all give her an exciting time and lots of support! Say hey, Lillian!" 

"H-H-Hey." Lillian managed to squeak out. Mic grinned and gave her a thumbs up that made her relax ever so slightly. Mic seemed positive, so she needed to be too, right? If he could do it, so could she! Maybe... probably not... yeah, she was going to die oh my god, okay, stay calm.

Lillian listened to Mic go on in awe. Listening to it on her phone was a lot different than watching Present Mic himself perform it. He updated them on some things and talked a bit about the Sports Festival. Occasionally he'd ask her some simple questions. Things that required a yes or a no, and she'd sputter out a reply. It wasn't all that often that he did this. Lillian was glad they were starting slow; though, she did have a long way to go, and not a lot of time. That being said, she hadn't had a lot of time to train for the Sports Festival either and... well, look at where she was now.

Mic's listeners were ecstatic to hear Lillian was participating in the show, and were clearly cluing their friends in. Lillian watched the number on Mic's laptop rise slowly, listener by listener. Mic noted excitedly that they were no doubt intrigued about Lillian. She had a powerful quirk and had come in second place in the very recent Sports Festival. Basically, she was the talk of the town, as were her other two fellow winners.

"Alright, alright! Time to take some calls!" Mic flipped a switch, and Lillian saw a previously red light flash to green. "Let's get this party started, Listeners!" 

Lillian held her breath, hands curling into her lounge pants. Mic had insisted she don something more comfortable, and he'd done the same. It was weird to see him out of costume. She hadn't seen him with his hair down and regular glasses on in a while. He wore a simple Present Mic graphic T-shirt and grey sweat pants. Lillian's outfit was similar. She had on her Team Eraserhead shirt and sighed jacket from the voice hero sitting next to her, the bright colors contrasting against her black bottoms.

A ringing sound filled the area, and Mic grinned at her excitedly. "We've got our first caller." Mic sung, pressing a green button on the board before them. "Hey, Listener!"

"Hey, Mic!" A woman's voice chirped back. She sounded older, maybe around Mic's age or so. "Is Lillian really there with you? She hasn't said much!"

Mic turned to her expectantly. Lillian jumped slightly when she realized she was meant to speak, blue eyes going wide. Her breath caught in her throat as her panic swelled. "She's a little nervous, that's all!" Mic assured. Lillian took a deep breath. Okay, this was what she signed up for. It was all fine. Mr. Mic had said before that if she got uncomfortable, all she had to do was shake her head and he'd diverge from the topic. 

"I-I-I'm here." Lillian managed to sputter out. She winced at her quiet tone, and said a little louder, "S-Sorry." 

"Aw, it's no problem, sweetie! I think it's great that you're trying to work on what you need to!" The woman's voice had a clear smile in it. "We're all cheering! Keep up the amazing work, Lillian! We're all excited to see you become a hero!" 

Mic gave a quick thanks, as did Lillian, before the line went dead. Ringing began immediately after, and Mic pressed the green button. Lillian held her breath, unable to speak most of the time. She'd shake her head and sputter out half-answers, unable to relax. Mic was okay with that. He was fine with her sitting there quietly and unsurely. His show usually went on for three hours on a day when he had time, and calls took up most of that. Calls provided Mic with content and topics to talk on. It really just depended. Sometimes his streams ended after an hour, sometimes they'd go on and cap four. She had no idea what to expect.

"Yo, so you're her English teacher, right? What's your opinion of her?" It was a younger man who sounded around Chad's age, maybe older. Lillian held her breath. Most questions were either about her or directed at her. That wasn't really a good thing, either. She had no idea how to react or what to do. It made sense. She was new on the show, and someone people were currently taking note of. Of course they were going to ask about her. 

"She's the best thing that's ever happened to me." Mic said in all seriousness. He leaned closer to his microphone, glasses glinting. His voice dropped to a whisper. "I can honestly say that I'd die for her because I love her so much."

"Damn." The man on the phone whispered back. Mic nodded despite the fact that he couldn't be seen. Lillian cheeks flared with embarrassment, and she began to fan at her face. Mic squealed at her like she was some sort of puppy. Lillian knew it was a sorry comparison to make. She was nowhere as cute as a puppy. She glanced down the front of her shirt where Yeet was sitting. She wanted to hold him, for emotional support, but was afraid of what her teacher would say if she reached down the front of her shirt and pulled out a snake...

The call ended, and then came another.

This was all going rather fast paced in Lillian's mind, but she tried to take a few deep breaths to calm herself. She'd listened to Mic's show every day for years. She knew what it got like when he had guests, even if she wasn't all that special. Calls picked up just like this and flowed in one after the other. It was no big deal. If she just took it one call at a time, it should be okay. It wasn't like Mic could accept multiple calls at once, or ever would. 

"Hello, Listener!" Mic gave his usual greeting. There was no immediate reply. Lillian strained to hear as faint laughter came over the line, followed by shushing. Someone cleared their throat. There were several people on the other end, she noted. The thought of one person made her squirm, but more than that? She was going to cry. They probably all hated her and thought she was weird because she couldn't answer simple questions. She just... Sh-She panicked, and freaked out a bit and froze! She was... ugh, she didn't know. She knew she was weird.

The line fell silent, and someone cleared their throat once again. Lillian could tell they were trying not to laugh. Mic glanced at her and then the end-call button in an unsure manner, wondering if he should stop it before it began. Poor Lillian looked ready to blow a fuse as it was. The line crackled, and someone began to speak.

"There is only one thing worse than a rapist!" The man on the end boldly proclaimed. Again, it was someone who sounded around Chad's age. A college student, no doubt. She heard snickering, but was on her feet before the very horrified Mic could end the call. She just reacted without meaning to. Hanging out with Hitoshi and Neito had conditioned her this way. She couldn't stop herself as she slammed her hands down onto the table, eyes gleaming.

"A child!" Lillian boomed in response. Mic jumped slightly, eyes wide. Laughter exploded on the other end of the line, someone sounding as though maybe they were crying. Mic was in too much shock to end the call. Lillian settled back down and took a deep breath immediately, reaching into her shirt and pulling out Yeet to try and calm herself down after that little heart attack there. Mic's eyes got wider if that was possible.

"Little Listener." He whispered, barely heard over the howling laughter coming from the speaker before them. "What the fuck?"

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

Chad's apartment was a fucking pigsty, and Bakugo hated it. It was clear the guy was nothing more than a beat-down college student drowning in debt. He also had a six year old living with him now, which made this worse. He obviously had no idea how to take care of a kid. Bakugo really didn't either, but he knew setting them on the counter and giving them a box of cereal was wrong. Not to mention the fact that she was still wearing that fucking shirt and those sunglasses. He honest to god feared for her future.

Eri wasn't sure what to think of Bakugo. Chad said he was going to help them take out the bad men with the bird masks, but she wasn't as positive now that she'd gotten to know him a little. He was really mean and didn't think her sunglasses really gave her power-ups, which meant he was a non-believer. Chad said non-believers got wrecked. If he got wrecked, how was he supposed to take down the Yakuza with Chad? It didn't make any sense at all in her mind. She guessed she'd just have to trust Chad. He was super smart and knew what he was doing.

"How the fuck are you a good shot if you're an Uber Eats Driver?" Bakugo asked, looking around cautiously as he dropped his bags on the ground. To think the first day of his internship was going to be him cleaning this shitty place. There was no fucking way he was sleeping here until he knew there were no rats. Even then it was dicey. This place was going to be coated in Lysol by the time he was done. He was no clean freak or germaphobe, but this place was... it was on a whole other level of nasty.

"I grew up on a farm, so I had to shoot snakes and coyotes all the time. Gophers too, sometimes. It sort of became a hobby for a while after that." Chad shrugged. "Blame my brother. He had a fear of firearms, so I had to do all the dirty work."

Bakugo scoffed, rolling his eyes. "So what the fuck are you expecting me to help you with? The fucking Yakuza?" He was a bit upset that his vulgar language didn't seem to throw Chad all that much. Of course, that meant he was free to continue with his swearing. A blessing if he'd ever seen one. But that also meant he couldn't annoy the shit out of this guy, who seemed like nothing much phased him. Save for when he'd tried to tell the kid that her sunglasses were sadly just normal sunglasses. No power-ups involved.

"He's gonna delete their knee caps!" Eri chirped, eyes shining behind her glasses as she shoved more Fruit Loops in her mouth. Bakugo stopped and stared at her. What the fuck was this guy teaching her?

"That's right, squirt." Chad plopped down on the couch. The coffee table was covered in papers, along with a few maps with circles drawn in hot pink sharpie. Bakugo tried not to let his palms blow up as his irritation rose. "And no, this shit isn't illegal. I have a hero license and a gun permit. Don't @ me." 

"The fuck does that mean?" Bakugo asked. Lillian had said it before. Maybe she and this Chad guy were more alike than he first thought. If that was the case, then maybe he wasn't so bad. Lillian wasn't as insufferable as half of 1-A, and conversation with her was decent. So this guy's first impression was shit. Bakugo was pretty sure his was too. Not that he actually gave a damn. But hey, maybe this Chad fucker didn't give a damn either.

"Never mind. You're too normal. Just uh... like, come sit down so I can show you this. Tomorrow is the day we act. Brad is watching the kid for the day, so it's fine. Or maybe Hitoshi... Lillian's ideal, actually." Chad waved a hand, urging him over. Bakugo scoffed. He wanted to say no, but he was interning with this guy. May as well just go along with whatever fuck shit he had planned and hope for the best. Besides, eliminating the Yakuza actually... didn't sound too bad. Sorta badass, though he'd never admit it out loud.

"Fine. But if this shit gets me killed..." Bakugo trailed off.

"You're suing, I get it." Chad said. Bakugo decided not to point out that he couldn't sue him if he was dead.

"Yeah, whatever. We can talk about this shit later." Bakugo said. Chad raised a brow, and the explosive blonde raised one back. "Shut the fuck up and get me a trash bag. I'm not sitting on old take-out."

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

"So if you save this many people each day for the next week, memorize these cards and recite them in front of the press, and take selfies with at least three fans a day and a baby, you should be propelled into the Number Two spot by the end of the week." Todoroki said, all in one breath. Hawks wasn't computing. His brain was friend from the intake of information. He wasn't trained for this! To think interning was this hard. Who knew.

"Isn't... Isn't your dad in the number two spot? Why would you want me to take his place?" Hawks frowned, brows furrowing. Todoroki's expression didn't change. Hawks found that oddly disturbing, but who was he to judge?

"My dad is an abusive asshole who drove my mother insane and repressed me so much that I didn't want to use the flame part of my quirk because of how much I hate him." Todoroki shoved the cards in his hand forward. "So you tell me why I want you in his place."

Hawks felt shock wash over him, followed by a flash of anger, and then determination. His eyes went back to the charts Todoroki had laid out before them. He didn't know the details of what he'd been told. Hell, what had he just been told? The Number Two Hero, someone he actually admired, was a fucking asshat? It didn't really compute fully, but he could dwell on that later.

"Alright... let's go over this again."

Shoto smiled for the first time since entering Hawks's agency and readily obliged. 

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

Jay's office was a burst of color. It was the first thing Neito noticed when he stepped in. A gay pride flag that made his heart swell was hung on the wall right behind his desk, surrounded by photos in sleek black frames. Jay walked forward with purpose and pulled one of those pictures right off the wall, gripping it firmly as he turned back to Neito. The blonde tensed, blue eyes shooting back to the Songbird Hero and away from the many photographs surrounding them.

"What is this a picture of?" He asked, offering the frame to him. Neito hesitated only for a moment before taking it carefully. He felt shaky and... panicked wasn't the right word. He was just so unsure. He had hesitated greatly in coming here, and hadn't divulged to his friends who he'd chosen or why. He hadn't been able to. They'd make the connection immediately. They were way too smart not to. Though they wouldn't press him for answers or anything... they'd know for sure.

"It's you... at your wedding." He smiled a little to himself. It was a happy picture. Jay was grinning, as was the man next to him. His husband wasn't a hero, so Neito wasn't sure of his name. There were several other people in the frame, backs to the camera as they clapped and cheered. Some even had their arms in the air, hands evidently having been waving with joy. Neito felt warm looking at it. Hopeful, almost. He wondered if he could have that some day.

"It's me at my wedding, surrounded by my closest friends." Jay said. Neito looked up to see the man smiling. "You will lose people due to who you are, but not everyone. Your closest friends, the ones who mean the most to you and who you trust, will rise to accept you if they feel the same way about you as you feel about them. People will discriminate, but others will step forward to cheer you on and drive you forward."

Neito felt tears fill his eyes, blurring his vision. Jay softly took the photo from his shaking hands, his smile turning to something softer. He could remember being a teenager, unsure and unknowing. He hadn't gotten the chance to ask for help or guidance, even though he'd desperately needed it. He wasn't sure he would have made it without his friends. That's why he was so glad Neito had come to him for this.

Neito was terrified of himself. Of what might happen. He was no idiot; he knew this was going to be hard. Coming out of the closet always way. He'd watched so many videos on it, and seen so many go wrong. He read about how to deal with rejection and how to cope with lost friends. He'd read as blog owners broke down piece by piece before they stopped writing entirely. It scared him more than he could ever express using words.

"The friends you have will accept you. Maybe some people won't, but they'll defend you." Jay put a hand on Neito's shoulder as the boy brought his hands up to wipe at his eyes. "Take pride in who you are and who you love. There is nothing wrong with a man loving a man, just like there's nothing wrong with a woman loving a woman. It's all the same. It's all love, kiddo. I know you're scared because you're not like a lot of the people you see in class and around you. You feel differently, and that's okay. It's always okay. Be you. Be Neito Monoma."

Neito hiccuped as his tears fell. Jay pulled him forward into a hug, setting the photo aside on his desk and letting the teen wrap his arms around him and squeeze as he let it all out. All his anxiety washed away down his cheeks, soaking into Jay's shirt. The man didn't mind. It was a beautiful thing to see someone accepting themselves. Jay rarely got to witness it. Knowing he helped someone who was lost and wondering made him smile and want to whoop with joy. But he didn't. He could whoop later; for now, he would settle for hugging Neito instead while the teen released his worried and doubts.

"Thank you." The blonde sniffled quietly, smiling despite himself. "Thank you so much."

"Don't thank me, Monoma. Just be yourself. It's the best thing you can do for me, for those around you, and most importantly, for yourself." Jay said. "My parents weren't at my wedding. They don't support me. They love me, and they always will. Parents love their children. They simply don't understand, and that's okay. I'm okay with that. I'm okay with the friends I've lost, and the ones I gained. I wouldn't trade who I am for the world. Don't fear what you may lose, okay? Fear what you'll never gain if you don't do accept who you are."

Neito only cried harder. Jay patted his back, swearing to himself that he'd show the blonde some more photos later. The kid needed it.

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

"So that's probably a bomb, right?" Hitoshi asked as Aizawa shut the door to his apartment. The purple-haired teen was actually pretty excited to see where his idol lived. He didn't care if it turned out to be a total trash heap. His room had been no better before he met Lillian and actually managed to pull his head out above the water and stop drowning long enough to clean it up. Now his friends kept him afloat, so he didn't have to worry about sinking again. So long as they were there.

His friends were odd. They were freaky little creeps, but so was he. He was possibly the freakiest of them all. It made him smile to know that if they were in this situation, they'd probably be taking photos for him. It was a more comforting realization than he thought it'd be, and he relaxed a bit. 

"Probably." Aizawa tossed his keys into a bowl by the door. "What did you need to talk about?"

"You can open that first. If it kills you, telling you would have been pointless." Hitoshi shrugged. Aizawa grunted but nodded, moving further into his apartment. Hitoshi resisted the urge to take pictures despite knowing Lillian and Neito wouldn't hesitate, or Shoto. He knew that would be way too creepy, especially since the photos were for him. Instead he settled for soaking up everything he could and trying to memorize it. Slightly less weird, but still pretty up there. 

It was surprisingly tidy. Hitoshi supposed maybe Aizawa wasn't around enough to make a mess, or maybe just stayed in one place enough that he didn't really ruin much. There weren't dirty piles of laundry on the floor, nor was there old takeout that had been sitting for weeks on end. It was, by all means, a completely normal apartment. One with boxes stacked in the living room. He raised a brow at them. 

"Ignore them. I'm just... cleaning out my spare room." Aizawa cleared his throat and plopped down on his couch. He refused to admit he was planning on asking Lillian if she'd like the be adopted as soon as the internships were over. Hopefully Mic didn't ask her first, and if he did... hopefully she wouldn't say yes right away. "Stay over there."

"Sir, yes, sir." Hitoshi gaze a lazy salute, looking around languidly. Aizawa ripped the paper from the box. He'd been putting this off too long, after all.

He wasn't sure what to expect. He'd thought maybe there would be a cardboard box underneath the thick brown paper, but he was wrong. He inspected the wooden box carefully. There was nothing terribly special about it. It didn't look dangerous: just old, maybe a little splintered. Aizawa glanced at Shinso, wondering if it was a good idea to have him here. He didn't really want the death of a student on his hands. But if Shinso died, Aizawa was probably going too considering he was about to open it.

Carefully, he pulled it open and held his breath, leaning back. Nothing happened. He peered forward again, shooting another glance at the teen standing idly by. If Lillian moved in here, would she invited Hitoshi and Neito over? He wasn't sure how he felt about that, but he wasn't going to tell her she couldn't have friends over. If this ever became her home. And that was a big if, unfortunately.

The box was full, a piece of printer paper sitting on the top. He squinted at it. It was full of messy writing, a lot of it smudged by... tears? Maybe someone had sent it to the wrong Aizawa. He tried to think of a reason why someone from Italy would be sending him a tear-stained letter. He'd certainly take it over a biological weapon or explosive any day, but it was still weird. He glanced at Hitoshi for what felt like the millionth time to see him still scrolling through his phone and shrugged, pulling the paper out. He began to read. 

For Shota Aizawa,

I doubt you remember me, but I hope this jogs your memory somehow. We were both so, so drunk. We made a mistake. We were high schoolers, and I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I'm so, so sorry. I'm just sorry. She's a blessing, and I never told you. I took that from you, and I'm sorry.

Aizawa's eyebrows shot up. Okay, so it was definitely for him. But what... what was she talking about? He didn't recognize the writing. It was completely possible someone insane sent it to him. While it had never happened before, there was a first time for everything. 

I regret it every day of my life. I hate myself. You have no idea how much I hate myself. I'd come back if I could. I tried to call, you know. And that's when I found out. Aiyako had been taken from the hospital. Kidnapped. I had to hang up. I should have gone back to Japan and looked, but I couldn't. I just couldn't. I couldn't do it anymore, and I hate myself. I hate myself, Aizawa. Take care of her.

Aizawa felt his breathing slow as he read on. He wanted to stop. His mind was screaming at him to continue, though. So he did. It was too late to put it down now. Connections were being made as he read further down, and it made his head spin. His stomach churned dangerously, and he shot a look at Hitoshi. He was still just standing there.

Do you remember that party? You were in your second year too, right? You had the spiked punch and so did I. I didn't realize I was pregnant. I wanted to tell you, but my parents kicked me out, and I realized I didn't want to ruin your life with a child. A precious, beautiful child. I should have told you, but you were so young. I was so young, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Aiyako. You hadn't even started out. You wanted to be a hero, and I felt I would have disrupted that. I made a mistake. I made a huge mistake thinking that.

No... no, no, no-

I couldn't afford an abortion. A part of me didn't want to get one, anyway. I birthed the most gorgeous little girl! With black hair and blue eyes and the cutest freckles. I loved her with all my heart. I love her. But when she turned three, she just got so sick. And she was crying so much, and I didn't know what to do. When I saw the bill the hospital presented I panicked. I panicked and I left. I left her there, our child, and I hate myself. I'm sorry I slept with you. I'm sorry I got pregnant and didn't tell you. I'm sorry. Take care of her, please. She needs you.  Love her the way I failed to. Protect her. Reassure her. Please.

-Mayako Aki

Aizawa couldn't breathe, because he knew that name, and it was all clicking into place. Mic had brought her up twice in the past few weeks. He'd brought up that party and showed him that picture, and he'd brushed it off. But he remembered, now. He remembered that spiked punch bowl, and that girl with the brown hair and blue eyes. From 2-B. The one who dropped out. The one he slept with and-

He dropped the letter and yanked the box towards him, breathing increasing in pace as he began to frantically look through it. Hitoshi jumped slightly as Aizawa shakily yanked out another paper. A birth certificate. The name "Aiyako Aizawa" was printed clearly, and his name was right there. Right there where the father's name should be. But-

He pulled out photos next, and his heart stopped completely. His vision blurred with tears.

There was a toddler there, captured in time. A distant memory he wasn't a part of. She was a beautiful, perfect toddler that he recognized. She wore a big smile, her blue eyes shining. Her black hair was a short mess, sticking up in every direction. Freckles were spread across her face, and he felt himself choke out a sob as he pulled more out. Picture after picture. A pacifier. A stuffed toy. A tiny, baby-sized pair of shoes. A picture of Aiyako- of Lillian- as an infant.

It all made so much sense. It made so much sense that it hurt, and he wondered how he hadn't seen it before. He'd seen all the signs. The resemblance Lillian held to him was uncanny. Sitting there, on his couch, it all melted away as he looked at the photos laid out before him. The photos he didn't get to take. That he didn't get to be in. Something seized his chest, and it squeezed. He felt like an idiot. A hopeless idiot who'd missed it all. Mic had seen it and known. He'd tried to tell him, and he-

Aizawa cried. Hitoshi was there, but he couldn't help it. He cried. Everything else fell away, because Lillian was his little girl. He'd wanted it so badly. He'd wanted to adopt her and give her what she needed, but he should have been doing that already. This whole time. She should have been here this whole damn time.

"No." He wheezed out, breaths coming out short and choppy. "No, no, no."

He missed it.

She was his, and he missed it.

"Mr. Aizawa?" Hitoshi dropped to his knees in front of his trembling teacher, who was now sobbing into his hands in a way that made the teen's stomach do uncomfortable, panicked flips. He'd never seen Mr. Aizawa cry before. His emotions were pretty limited. Albeit, he'd had bandages on for most of the time Hitoshi had known him. Those obstructed his expressions pretty well, but this was different. Painfully different. This was raw and hurt and...

His eyes trailed towards the photos on the coffee table, and he paled.

"Oh... oh no." He whispered. This was why he'd wanted to talk to Mr. Aizawa. He'd heard Mic say something, and then the resemblance just... but this was... "Mr. Aizawa, it's okay. It's all going to be okay. I-I, uh- shit, it's gonna be alright."

"She's mine. She's mine, and I wasn't there." Aizawa's voice cracked. He loved Lillian, and she was his this whole time? He could have watched her grow up. He could have provided for her and saved her the pain of having to find out she was kidnapped. He could have prevented her from ever feeling the need to say she was quirkless. He could have loved her and gotten her help for her anxiety. He could have made her happy. They both could have been happy, together. Because he was her dad, and she was his daughter. 

Lillian was his daughter, and he hadn't known. 

He wasn't there.

~~~~~~

Well, that happened. At least he opened the box, so there's that, yeah? On a completely unrelated note, I posted a gay Tenya Iida story.