Chapter Text
The next week was… hectic to say the least. Izuku had gone through so many prototypes he could make a graveyard with the failed attempts. Needless to say, it took a while for him to realize he needed to think about exactly what he wanted to make.
So… sketchbook it is, although his art was not amazing, it got the point across and helped Izuku clear his mind. Which also made him realize how stupid his past prototypes were.
Some examples may include a robotic claw that was made horribly and ended up scratching Izuku’s hand so bad he had to wear double bandages underneath his gloves for safety measures, and that doesn’t even mention the pain. Then he had the bright idea to make electromagnetic gloves. In hindsight, not the best idea, but it didn’t end up too bad.
Well... if you consider electrocuting your whole arm bad, then it was a bit bad, but! The prototype actually ended up working after a bit of work.
Eventually there was only 3 days left for the entrance exam, and to say Izuku was worried would be an understatement.
He had ended up getting inspiration from a few comics, and some not so well-known heroes for his support item. As-well as a few vigilantes which he thought were pretty cool, although having to filter through the murderers who just call themselves heroes to make their crimes seem justified was always a… pitiful sight.
After adding some last touches to his support item, Izuku was… still a nervous wreck. Maybe it would help if he had someone to proof check his work, but he had no friends, hadn’t had friends since elementary school actually. Well, if you filter out the few new kids that liked him, then found out he was quirk-less and either acted like he didn’t exist afterwards, or the other side that started bullying him after finding out. But he would not consider those people friends.
Of course, considering how much Izuku worked online, from commissions, to just answering random questions on about any platform, you would think he would have some online friends, right?
Wrong, obviously Izuku had thought about taking that step and becoming friends with someone online, but other than the obvious risks of that person turning out to be a creep or a serial killer. The moment they found out he was quirk-less they would block him or ghost him anyway.
It’s better to not get his hopes up, but no matter what he wouldn’t give up on one thing. And that was making it into U.A.
On the other hand, after a couple of days of dealing with his most recent commission from, Izuku had come to the conclusion that this guy was either bonkers, or a complete shut-in with no social interaction… ever. So not much different from himself on that.
But honestly after Izuku got to know the guy, who refused to give him a name, he wasn’t so bad to talk to, at-least if Izuku ignored his blatant hatred for heroes, especially all might for some reason. To be fair Izuku wasn’t here to judge, he was here to get his analyst job done and get his paycheck so he wouldn’t have to worry about starving himself for the next month.
Talking about starving, Izuku’s mother hadn’t been back in weeks, and he was starting to get worried, which confused him entirely. Considering all the woman would do if she were home, was nag at him for not being good enough, or just completely ignore him like he didn’t exist except for the subtle glances of disgust he would sometimes get from her.
Although… Izuku was staring to notice more weird things happening inside his house, to the point he was starting to keep track of it. Subtle footprints in the hallway that he knew he hadn’t left. More handprints on his window, which was somehow always cracked open even though he made sure to close it every night. There was also this strange thing that no matter how many times Izuku bandaged himself up or used his limited medical supplies, there was always more medical supplies the next time he checked.
With the U.A exams in 2 days, Izuku didn’t exactly have time to worry about stuff like this though, so he just kept brushing it off.
Just like he had always brushed off the feeling of somebody watching him no matter where he was, or the cold feeling of the empty house. It’s just something that he would have to get used to.