Chapter Text
Izuku learned at a very young age that love is conditional. Love is a reward for following the rules, love is reserved for those who are worthy of it, for those who are loveable.
His father's love was always conditional, he’d love him if he weren't in his way, he’d love him if there were people watching, he’d love him if he was quiet, he’d love him if he wasn’t angry but he was angry a lot. He had fire on his tongue and he didn’t hesitate to spit vitriol.
So, Izuku learned to be small, he learned to hide and appease. He did his best to learn how to be lovable but he always seemed to come up short.
Looking back Izuku doesn’t think he was planned. It seems unlikely that someone like Hisashi would ever want kids, that would explain his contempt for his own child. Maybe Izuku was an accident or maybe Hisashi was just an angry man. Maybe Hisashi just used to pretend to love him but that was before the diagnosis. After the diagnosis Izuku wasn’t a child, he was a waste. He was a waste of time, a waste of money, a waste of space, and Hisashi made sure he knew that.
Hisashi hated that Izuku was quirkless. He’d thought that Hisashi was an angry man before, but that was child’s play, when Hisashi was really mad he had very poor quirk control. He would scream burning reminders onto Izuku’s skin until one day he gave up. He gave up on Izuku and his family and he left.
Izuku used to think his mother’s love was the exception, Mama loved him no matter what. But that wasn’t true, Mama loved him when he wasn’t the reason Papa left, Mama loved him when he wasn’t useless, Mama loved him before he ruined her life.
Mama still likes him when he’s quiet; when he’s not in the way she’s happier. So Izuku learned to make himself scarce, he’d take the long way home from school on her days off and he’d stay in his room when he couldn’t stay out because Mama deserved to be happy. She fed him and taught him how to take care of his own boo-boos like a big kid, she was kind.
That’s what Izuku used to think, maybe he was delusional, or maybe he was just a child who didn’t know any better.
***
Izuku’s school days followed a routine, he’d get to school fairly early and hide away in some nook or cranny, and race to class just before the bell rang. He found that this was the best way to toe the line between avoiding his classmates and not getting punished for being late. He’d scramble to his desk and set aside the occasional spider lily or quietly buff out slurs written in scratchy graphite.
Throughout the day he’d take some insults or blows, dodging occasionally when he calculated the risk of retaliation and further violence to be low. He’d become very skilled at reading his classmate's emotions, he knew when they were already angry it was better to just let them take it out on him otherwise it would be worse later.
Izuku never had siblings or cousins the closest thing he had was Kacchan and well… that relationship was just further evidence to prove that he was unloveable. He’d still look to Kacchan whenever some of his classmates said or did something particularly cruel as if he would step in and save him but of course he never did.
He remembers the first time one of his classmates told him to kill himself in front of Kacchan and he looked up hoping he would finally step in and say that was too far.
He didn’t.
He just laughed along and it broke something inside Izuku that he didn’t know he had left, that was the first time Izuku ever actually considered following his classmate’s advice.
Izuku knew there wasn’t anyone who was going to swoop in and save him so the second the final bell rang every day he would bolt out the door to dodge his peers as best he could then he would start his usual wanderings; it was a habit left over from when Inko still spent time at home. He didn’t want to bother her so he’d spend a few hours after school wandering into the parts of Musutafu where no one knew he was quirkless. After Inko stopped coming home regularly Izuku would still go on these walks just in case she did, but now it’s more a reprieve than anything. Sure, it wasn’t really the nicest area but the people there recognized him and he’d wave and smile at them and they wouldn’t sneer at the cute little kid.
They didn’t know what he was, it was nice.
He’d pet the strays and mind his business. Well, he’d look like he was minding his business but he heard things, mostly harmless things but he was never very good at forgetting. So, he knew the names of all the store owners, he knew Fukuda-san’s cousin just got into their first pick high school, he knew Kato-san was a drug dealer who also had a soft spot for cats, and Iwai-san was a lady of the night. He knew this block was the territory of a gang but the next one over wasn’t, he knew where it was safe to stop and do his homework when the weather was nice, and more importantly, he knew where it wasn’t safe and he knew when to get the hell out.
It’s because of these wanderings that Izuku normally didn’t get home until just before sunset. And it’s why Izuku found himself with 12 rather than 16 hours to pack up his life and leave.
***
Izuku hasn’t seen Inko in over a month. This wasn’t too unusual, he was 12 years old he could take care of himself and she was happier without him, why would she come home? She’d been drifting further and further away from him for years no matter what he did. She’d work long hours at the hospital so he always made sure to leave leftovers in the fridge for her to warm up when she got home. She didn’t like things to be dirty so Izuku made sure to keep things tidy for her, she worked so hard to provide for them, it was the least he could do.
On the rare occasions he actually saw his mother these days he’d try to make small talk, he’d ask her about work or her friends. He’d ask how she was doing, if there was anything she needed but he was always met with short, clipped answers.
“Work’s fine.”
“My friends are doing well.”
“I’m fine.”
It was like living with a stranger, no, a ghost. This woman was the ghost of his mother, there was nothing left of the warmth she used to have, she was cold and gone in the blink of an eye.
She still left money for him so he could eat, there was still a roof over his head. Well, there actually hadn’t been money for food for a while now but that's okay, he could make do, and this pink slip on the door was definitely new…
***
Izuku sat at the kitchen table reading the notice for the nth time. Eviction. Rent hadn’t been paid since before he’d last seen his mother when she’d been packing for a trip to see a friend up north, or at least that’s what she’d told him.
She would be back, she had to come back, she wouldn’t just leave him.
Unbidden, his legs carried him to his mother’s bedroom, somewhere he’d dared not disturb for years. He knocked on the door gently, still holding on to the naïve hope that he’d gotten this all wrong, of course, his mother didn’t leave him. She must’ve just forgotten to pay rent, right?
Pushing open the door shattered his flimsy hope like glass. It was barren. The bed was stripped, the closet was completely empty, the vanity was void of his mother’s make-up and jewelry. Any sign that this room was ever lived in was gone.
She was gone.
“Kami, I’m an idiot.” The words seemed to escape his lips despite him.
He should’ve seen this coming, he shouldn’t have been so blindsided, of course, it was only a matter of time before she left too.
He was alone, not just lonely like he had been for the last few years, he was well and truly alone now.
The note in his hands started turning fuzzy as tears obscured his vision. He just let them fall, what else could he do? For the first time in a very very long time, he let himself fall apart, loudly, and obtrusively. Sobs wracked his body and the hands that reflexively went to cover his mouth did little to stifle the volume. He shattered and fell with all the resonance of a plane crash because there was no one left to love him any less for it.
***
Izuku trudged his way up the stairs to the roof of the complex, it’s where he’d go when it was too late for a walk and he needed to clear his mind. He’d sit on the ledge on the right side of the flimsy safety fence and look down at the city. He watched as the underground or twilight heroes went around their patrols. He’d watch people walking home from late shifts or walking to their night shift. Musutafu was a busy city, a city that would wake up and move on with or without him, a city that had no stake in any of his problems. Maybe it was morbid, maybe a bit unhealthy, but it was better than getting mugged.
The sun had set, there was no trace of it on the horizon as Izuku settled himself on the ledge on auto-pilot. Not for the first time, he considered pulling back the chain link that clung limply to the pole he was leaning against.
What was keeping him here?
Hope? Hope for what? The last 12 years of his life proved that hope was a fragile thing to place your faith in.
No one would miss him.
His eyes traced the cityscape trying to spot heroes like he always did, would they help him? Would anyone help someone like him? He wondered if there was anyone else looking out at the city wondering the same thing, he hoped not. No one deserved to feel like this.
That's why he wanted to be a hero, to save people like him.
He glanced down at his fingers tangled in the rusted chain links.
He can’t be a hero if he’s dead.
He let his hand drop to his side and stared unmoving at the skyline.
***
He needed to be out by morning, where was he supposed to go? Numbly, he made his way to his room and started packing anything he could fit into his backpack, duffle, and suitcase. Condensing his whole life down into three bags. He paused as his hand reached for an All Might action figure, this was childish, there's precious little space and he didn’t have enough room for frivolous things. Glancing around his room his heart sank as he took in all the things he would have to leave behind. He wouldn’t have room once he got to… where ever he was going.
Where was he going? The neighbors? The cops? His teachers? They’d all just send him into the foster system if they even cared enough to do that. No one wanted a quirkless kid, he was a punching bag at best he couldn’t leave school only to come home to more beatings he couldn’t hecould’thecould’thehecould’the–
No, never mind that, this stuff was important he couldn’t just leave it, this stuff was from when Inko and Hisashi were still Mama and Papa, when they still loved him enough to spend all this money to make him happy, this stuff was valuable. It was valuable and it was all nearly a decade old and in mint condition, Inko didn’t like it when he made stuff dirty, he could sell it and at least have money for food for a while, right?
He finally snapped out of his haze, a plan, he needed a plan. He can’t afford housing long-term, hell probably not even short-term, so he’s homeless… but that's ok there are homeless people living all over Musutafu so that's uh… doable… yeah maybe he could join a camp or make a hut there's several places he can think of off the top of his head that would be suitable for a makeshift shelter, after all, he had a extensive mental map of the city and all its side streets from his walks.
Okay, he could do this.
The suitcase is for clothes, blankets, hygiene equipment, first aid, and his sewing kit, the backpack is for school stuff and expensive stuff, laptop, phone, chargers, and books, and the duffle is for stuff to sell. The note said he needed to be out by 8 AM which he usually was for school anyway but he couldn’t exactly lug his whole life to class, that was a surefire way to get it all destroyed, so he needed to find somewhere to stash it before school, that’s okay, he’s very good at hiding.
Setting an alarm for 5 AM Izuku settled in for a restless night, his last night in a bed for Kami knows how long.