Chapter Text
Izuku woke up feeling groggy and exhausted. His throat hoarse from crying all night.
He opened his eyelids halfway before screwing them shut, assaulted by the blinding lights he had forgotten to turn off the night before.
Running his hands through his untamed forest green curls to reorient himself. Yawning out a soft sigh.
He felt as if a train had run through him, and called all its other train friends to run through him as well. This was merely scratching the surface of how he felt.
Izuku didn't feel like going to school today. He's way too tired, even standing up would make him drop to his knees. Gravity in all its glory. He huffs exasperatedly.
He decided right then and there that he'd take a mental health day.
After everything that had happened yesterday, he couldn't be bothered to get up.
He wishes the ground would crack open and swallow him whole.
Too overwhelmed by grief to care about school and studies that he'd usually fret over on a normal day. But it wasn't a normal day now was it?
His mom had just died, and his best friend told him to kill himself all because he had the misfortune to be born the way he was, AND on top of that his former idol had told him to think ‘realistically’, as if heroes don't risk their lives every day for someone they haven't even met a second before.
To make matters worse the burn he was so graciously given the day before his life went into shambles started stinging like someone owed it a debt.
Izuku sat up straight, swinging his legs to the side of the couch. Standing up, he made his way to the bathroom, where his mom had once put the remedies.
Rummaging through the basket filled with pills, ointments, and herbs. Letting out a grunt of triumph when he found the burn cream he'd been searching for.
Clutching the burn ointment in his right hand. Guiding himself back into the living room where he'd previously been not too long ago.
Plopping down on the couch, unbuttoning his Aldera blazer. He took off his dress shirt lying underneath the blazer.
Uncapping the cream. Pouring it on his hands, raising his arm to slather it all over his burn adorning his left shoulder. Hissing in pain when the cold treatment made contact with the burn.
Making sure every crevice was completely covered by the burn cream.
The itching was unbearable, but for it to heal faster he could endure it for a couple of days… hopefully.
Recapping the remedy and rebuttoning the dress shirt once again, Izuku realised he truly had nothing to do the whole day. Unless lying on his couch counted as something, he was truly free for once. Though he didn’t feel as relaxed as he should have.
He doesn't have a job to keep the bills running, so being homeless was his top priority, for now until he gets kicked out randomly, haha…
Kami, he's pathetic.
He may as well drop out of school, no one's going to pay for it anyway, plus he finally isn't going to get bullied anymore. Whoop De doo.
He should get started on writing to the principal that he's dropping out. Although they never outright said it, having a quirkless kid in the school was ruining their reputation, so this was a win-win for everyone.
-
Kamis sake, why'd that take so much longer than he expected!?.
The paperwork wasn't even the worst part, it was the signature part. He'd never tried to copy his mom's signature, he'd just left the slips on the table just to find them signed the next day.
He really did miss her but he forbade himself from bursting into tears, he needed to be strong… for her.
If she were truly here she would kiss his forehead and cradle him to sleep. Whispering sweet nothings in his ear, just to calm him down.
Grief worked in mysterious ways.
Shoving those thoughts aside. He'd realized he had little to nothing in the fridge except cucumbers.
This day just couldn't get any worse, could it?
Apparently, it could. He huffed an exasperated sigh.
He had forgotten to ask his mom for grocery money before she left for work.
He's a high school dropout with no money, no food, no friends, crushed dreams, a dead mom, and practically homeless since the bill was supposed to be paid three days before but they were running short on money.
Fuck him sideways at this point.
Izuku got up and figured that the single cucumber in his fridge would do him some good to prolong his hunger from showing up. Or at least to give him the illusion of the sensation of feeling satiated.
He got up from his favorite spot on the couch. Trudging through the familiar trail to the fridge. Opening the door to be met with a small lanky cucumber that managed to stay fresh for the past three days.
Just as Izuku was about to grab the cucumber, the landline that his mother had saved two paychecks for started to ring. Only this time it felt ten times worse than it usually does, it might be due to the villain attack he experienced the day before. Or maybe he gained tinnitus? His guess is as good as the next person's answer.
As he stood there guessing what had potentially changed with his hearing, the ringing only got worse so he did the best thing he could and walked straight to it and answered it shoving his anxiety to the side of what this call may have in store for him.
Picking up the phone from where it lies on the wall.
“Uh hello? May I help you” his voice felt like a cheese grater grinding on his vocal cords from being unused for a good chunk of the day.
The female voice on the other side of the line responded diligently “Hello am I speaking with Midoriya Izuku?” He hummed in agreement. “This is Tamayo Aiki from Child Protective Services. I am here to call you about your mother for she has sadly passed away in a villain attack yesterday” She sounded almost remorseful, but that thought was quickly thrown out the window after what she had added. “Due to your unfortunate circumstances, you will be transported to an orphanage since the foster system does not see kindly to people of your kind”.
His kind!?. “I’m sorry could you clarify what you mean by my kind?” He must’ve heard that wrong, right?
That thought dispersed as soon as it had formed “Quirkless people. They aren’t seen as equal because they are underdeveloped, it is merely science” She stated it as if it were factual “Well that was all I had to inform you. Be ready in two days for the pickup too the orphanage” The line beeped to signal the end of the conversation.
What the hell was her problem!
Just when he thought that a couple of people who treated him didn’t mean everyone else would do the same, but nooo. Some random Child Protective Services worker deemed him underdeveloped all because he had the misfortune of being quirkless yet again. He just can’t seem to escape society’s eyes now can he.
It was a pointless endeavor that he had from when he was seven. For people to see him for who he was not for what he was. Pointless that’s the correct term alright.
It had just hit him that he was going to an orphanage. Where there’ll probably be people just like his school bullies surrounding him 24/7 no break, no home to run off to, no jumping in different alleys to get away. Just a completely defenseless Deku.
Oh, this is horrible news, even worse when he found out Kacchan broke his favorite All-Might figurine just to spite him for being quirkless.
No, this was awful news, and with his luck, he would be rooming with his new bullies.
Izukus' breath was growing erratic with each inhale of air he was taking. His heart was pounding against his ribcage like some sort of distress signal.
No no no, this can’t be happening, he can’t have a panic attack. Not right now. Not again.
Feeling a twinge of discomfort in his body, he wheezes when a pang of pain hits straight into his heart. He lifts his hand to stabilize himself, only to stumble to the ground harshly on his knees. He feels as if his whole body is being pricked with little pins and needles.
Izuku coughs trying to breathe as hard as he can, ending up breathless even more than he once was. He feels everything yet feels nothing at all, that’s all he can do. Stay there helpless, weak, a deku.
Pearly white tears roll down his freckled cheeks, gathering at the tip of his chin, dripping on the dark hardwood floors.
His cries slowly forming into sobs of pain, grief, and heartbreak. Izuku's body is trembling with each sound that escapes through his thin lips.
He’s going to die of dehydration if he doesn’t stop but he just can’t. He physically cannot stop panicking, each time he thinks he can recover, her remembers his mom so sweet and caring. Kissing his ‘booboos’ away. The bullies verbally attacking him at any opportunity they get.
Since he's all alone he tries to breathe in, one.. Two… three… hold. Four out. one… two… three… four…. Repeating the process seven times failing twice out of those seven tries.
His breathing starts slowing down to a normal pace. Being able to breathe with a little bit of hiccups as a side effect of his body still slightly shaking.
Flickering his eyelids open, welcoming the bright lights assaulting him once again, twice in one day. Staring down at the puddle of sad tears pooling right beside his feet.
Feeling utterly wrecked, a wave of fatigue smacked him in the face, and he couldn't complain a nap doesn't sound too bad at this current moment, but first, he needs to change. His shirt is soaked with the salty tears of a depressed person. (Which isn't wrong but still) He felt gross as the tears started drying up.
He used his hand as a crutch in order not to fall face-first on the hardwood floor. Lifting his body off the floor, he wobbled in place like a baby duckling using its legs for the first time. He waddled all the way to his room next to the bathroom. Stopping to look around his room, he reminisces about the All Might merchandise plastered all around his room. His mother had saved a lot for them, he cherished everything she bought for him since they weren’t as well off as the rest of the people in the neighborhood. His mother did her best to keep them afloat, spoiling him whenever she could.
He knows he should stop thinking about stuff like this, it’s only making him feel more upset at his horrible luck in life, but he can’t. He misses his mom. She may have only died yesterday but it’s never going to feel the same ever again. Who will keep him company when he has no friends to confide in? No one. He’s always been lonely ever since Kacchan Katsuki told Everyone he is quirkless.
Izuku feels the cold tears on his shirt freezing his whole chest. He starts walking to the drawer that contains his favorite light green sweater that his mom bought him as a birthday gift.
Opening the drawer, rummaging through the folds of clothes filling up the drawer. He sees light green fabric peeking from underneath his extra alder blazer. He reached in to retrieve his sweater.
It has been a while since he has worn this sweater, spring was never his favorite season to wear sweaters. Although that never stopped his mother from wearing them.
He had always loved her enthusiasm for wearing cardigans or jumpers during the sunny seasons, no matter how hot it was.
Taking the sweater from its place. Putting it on the bed to free his hands.
Unbuttoning the white dress shirt. Revealing pale skin littered with starburst-like scars covering thirty percent of his arms. He had never felt ashamed of them before, but lately he’s been feeling self-conscious of them.
He neatly sets down the dress shirt on the bed, folding it like he’d been taught. Lifting the green sweater over his head. Poking his arms through the arm holes of the sweater.
Relishing the warmth the sweater has been absorbing from the amount of time it has not been worn.
He feels pretty drowsy so he decides to sleep on his bed instead of his couch for once in this whole week.
Lying his body upon the mattress. Resting his head (which feels heavier all of a sudden) on his pillow. Sighing a breath of relief. He closes his eyes and sleeps peacefully. Or as close as he can.