Airwaves Unscripted (PapaMic)

Izuku's point of view unless said otherwise!

You ever wake up to the sound of your mom and her boyfriend arguing like it's some kind of early morning radio drama? Yeah, me neither—because I don't wake up to it. I'm already awake, lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, and listening to the muffled chaos downstairs like I'm trying to decipher some secret code from an alien broadcast.

It's like clockwork.

"Inko, I'm just saying—"

"No, you're not just saying anything, Hisashi! You're always 'just saying' and never actually saying anything useful!"

Oof. Mom's on a roll today.

I roll onto my stomach, propping myself up on my elbows. The walls in this house are paper-thin, which means I get the deluxe surround-sound experience of their bickering whether I want it or not.

"Ah, morning ambiance," I mutter, reaching for my laptop. "The sweet, soothing sound of passive-aggressive resentment."

Click. I open up my radio program.

This? This is my escape. A little thing I like to call sanity preservation.

Every evening, I co-host a tiny, barely-legal (but technically legal, shut up, Hisashi) internet radio show with my dad. Deku's Discourse, starring me, the world's most underappreciated genius, and my father—also known as THE Present Mic, pro hero, loudest human being alive, and the only person who matches my energy at 2 AM.

Honestly, I don't know why people let us have microphones.

I slap on my headset and flick the mic on, my voice going from bored gremlin to radio host extraordinaire in record time.

"Gooooood evening, ladies, gentlemen, and miscellaneous cryptids lurking in the depths of the internet! You're listening to Deku's Discourse, where we take life's nonsense, put it in a blender, and serve it with a generous splash of sarcasm. And as always, joining me is my co-host, my mentor, and the man responsible for half of my genetic material—Dad, say hi."

The speakers crackle before his voice bursts through—"YEEEEOOOHH!! WHAT'S UP, MY AUDITORY APPARITIONS?!"

I physically recoil from the sheer volume. "Ow. Okay. Reminder to myself and everyone listening: never give a man with a voice-based Quirk access to a soundboard."

Dad laughs. "C'mon, you love it!"

"Yeah, like a moth loves a bug zapper." I adjust my headset, hoping my eardrums aren't permanently damaged. "Anyway, let's get into today's topic—news headlines! Because what's more fun than staring into the gaping abyss of modern society and laughing at it?"

I pull up the latest articles and skim through them.

"Oooh, this one's good," I say, stifling a snort. "A villain tried to rob a bank today but got stuck in the revolving door. Tragic. Truly a Shakespearean downfall."

Dad gasps dramatically. "Betrayed... by ARCHITECTURE!"

"I know, right? He got arrested before he even stepped inside. Honestly, I respect the door. It's more efficient than half the heroes on the scene."

"HEY!"

"Not you, obviously." I pause. "I mean, maybe you. How many doors have you fought, huh?"

"...More than I care to admit."

That tracks.

"Alright, next headline," I continue, scrolling. "Oh, here's one for you, Dad—there was a press conference today about Quirk regulations, and a politician actually said, 'Maybe we should consider listening to the younger generation's perspective.'" I let out a dramatic gasp. "Dad! They acknowledged our existence! We're real!"

"Amazing. Maybe next they'll discover that minimum wage isn't a suggestion."

"And that public transport shouldn't feel like a survival game."

We both pause for a moment.

"...Nah," we say in unison.

I grin. This. This is what I live for.

Outside, my mom and Hisashi are still at it. I catch bits and pieces—something about responsibilities, something about effort, something about Why are you even here, Hisashi?!—but I tune it out.

Because right now, I have my own world. A world where I can laugh at the ridiculousness of life instead of letting it crush me. A world where my dad and I can turn chaos into comedy, where problems become punchlines.

Where I don't have to be anyone but myself.

And honestly? That's enough.