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There was a soft scratch at his bedroom door.
Izuku paused his notetaking and carefully set down his pen so that it didn't make a sound. He glanced sideways at the clock and frowned when he saw that it was 3 am. He had stayed up way later than he'd meant to. That explained the scratching. It was his...her...reminding him that he should be asleep.
"I'll go to bed in just a minute."
He turned in his seat and waiting, counting softly to himself as he held his breath to see if the scratching would return.
Scratch, scratch, scratch.
The heart in his chest beats a bit harder. She was not going to be so easily dissuaded with just a simple assurance from him. That was her job, after all, to make sure he did as his father wished him to. And his father wished for him to get a full night’s sleep.
He swallowed as the scratching resumed, more insistent this time, and was accompanied by a wheezing breath that was half a growl and half a lullaby. He jerked himself up to his feet. The noise from the movement was loud in the quiet room and the noise outside his door ceased. He looked towards his bed and swallowed again. He contemplated just jumping right into bed but he hadn't brushed his teeth yet, another thing his father always expected of him, and he suddenly desperately needed a drink of water.
There was still no sound or movement from the other side. He took a few steps forward hoping he could be quick and quiet just like a bunny. Just like his mother had taught him when he was just a child so that he wouldn't wake his father in the middle of the night. He winced as he stepped on the soft spot on the floor in the middle of the room that creaked and squeaked and almost always made it impossible to be sneaky in his room. Still, there was nothing from outside his door. He stopped as he reached it just for a moment to take a deep breath and opened his door.
The hallway outside his room was dark and empty.
He stuck his head out and looked one way towards the doorway and saw nothing, then he turned and looked down towards the main part of the house and saw that there was also nothing. Not even a shadow was out of place. He stepped out of the room and carefully closed the door shut behind him. Then with one more glance in either direction, he bolted towards the bathroom. As he slipped inside he glanced at the door to his mother's room. It was shut tight.
He swallowed hard and then closed the bathroom door quickly. He stared longingly at the shower but quickly decided that he was already pressing his luck too much. So he hurriedly splashed his face with some water and brushed his teeth as quickly as he could. He paused for a brief moment to stare at his face in the mirror as he drank his water, pale skin & dark circles underneath his eyes showing his lack of sleep over the past few months were reflected back at him. The memories that threatened to spring up pushed him to finish his drink quickly, then he turned and rushed out the door again.
The door to his mother's room was still shut tight. He let out a relieved breath of air and headed towards his room. He stopped short as he reached it.
The door to his room was open.
He knew he'd shut it. He'd made sure to shut it. She had trouble opening doors. Usually, if they were closed it meant that he was safe.
He took a deep calming breath and stepped forward. He stopped at the threshold and leaned in and scanned the room. The light he'd left on at his desk was now off leaving the room filled with shadows. He let his eyes move across every shape in the room as best he could, looking for any that might be out of place. He saw nothing.
"Hello" he called out in a quiet voice.
There was no answer but he thought he caught the shadows shift in corner of the room up near the ceiling just out of the left corner of his eye. He gulped and launched himself forward careful not to look in that direction as he ran. He landed on his bed and quickly pulled the covers up over the top of his head and tried to calm his breathing and pretend he'd fallen instantly asleep.
Silence stretched.
He held his breath and waited. After a moment he thought he heard a thump. It was whisper quiet and he could easily have ignored it if he was not straining to hear it. HIs blanket moved slightly as if something had kicked up a breeze in the room. He clutched his eyes shut and waited for the sound of the door closing. Instead, there was the squeaking from the soft spot on the floor. A high-pitched shriek filled the room and without thinking he jerked his hands up to cover his ears. This caused his blanket to slide down leaving his face open to the air of the room. Against his will, his eyes opened. Just for a brief moment, but it was long enough to land on the twisted shape standing in the middle of the room.
He gasped, drawing her attention and she turned in his direction. His wide eyes met the milky white, unseeing ones glowing in her face. She lifted a twisted, clawed hand in his direction and shrieked again mouth opening wide to show rows of sharp teeth glistening in the moonlight. He cried out and tried to pull the blankets back up over his head. Hoping to pretend he hadn't seen it.
Hadn't seen her.
Half a breath later she was on top of him. Her shrieks were painful not just because they hurt his ears but because they sounded like sobs. Her twisted hands caught the blankets and jerked them down. There was no way to hide from her, her weight pressing him down causing him to gasp for breath and open his eyes bringing him face to face with her. Her skin was purple and glowed as strangely as her eyes. Her hair loose and molted green drifted around them. The top of her head was split open slightly, just enough to show the bulbous shape of the brain within. He knew if he squinted just enough he could make out the true shape of her underneath all of the things that had been done to her.
He sobbed painfully against the lump in his throat and the squeezing in his chest.
It was a mistake. She shrieked again garbled and hysterical in her throat. Her hands moving up and down his arms like she was trying to comfort him but the claws caught his skin and raked against his shoulders. He tried to keep his pained noises inwards knowing from experience that they would only make her more frantic. But as always he failed to keep them locked up tight and her movements became more violent, her claws sinking into him even deeper drawing blood.
"It's alright!" he cried out sharply trying to calm her. "I'm okay! I'm in bed now...I'm going to sleep now! It'll be okay...Mama...please!"
Her movements jerked to a stop. The only sounds that filled the room were her broken noises and his own ragged breath as he tried to ignore the pain from the wounds on his arms. She stared at him through those milky white eyes for a long moment. Then leaned forward and sniffed at his unshed tears and cocked her head and whimpered softly...
It was his tone that had gotten to her. He knew this. It triggered something deep within her. Something that he could remember too. Of the time before. Before he'd visited a doctor and found out he was quirkless. When he'd been repeatedly told by both that doctor, his teachers, his former friends, and his mother that he could never be a hero. That he needed to give up on that dream. The dream that made her more and more frantic each year he had tried to push towards it. She had begged and pleaded with him and he had ignored it. Ignored her tears and the fear in her eyes.
He'd tried anyway. He'd failed. It had cost them both.
He reached out and pressed a hand against her cheek. It was wet and he could see the tears leaking from her milky eyes. Guilt welled up inside him and he let some of his own tears leak out too. He wants to reach out and pull her close into a hug but he knows from experience that it won't go well if he tried.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."
He whispered his words into the darkness. For a brief moment, she leaned her cheek against his hand and then realizing what she'd done her mouth opened widely and a mostly silent gurgling noise slipped out.
Then she launched herself off the bed and bolted from the room.
The door slammed shut behind her and he was left alone.
He sobbed as quietly as he could into the darkness. Then rolled himself onto his side in a tight ball, ignoring the pain in his arms as they pressed against the sheets. He thinks the small bite of pain is the least he deserved. If he'd just been good and done what he was told none of this would have happened. He knows logically that that's not true. His father had something like this planned from the moment he'd been born if not earlier. Some form of this would have happened regardless of if he'd decided to push for being a hero or not. But if he hadn't screwed up so badly. If he hadn't pissed his father off so greatly. Maybe, just maybe, he could have spared her this at the very least.
He closed his eyes tightly and pushed those thoughts away as best he could. He cleared his mind and breathed deeply. He ignored the whispers of guilt in his brain, ignored the pain in his arms and his chest. Then began to count quietly backward in his head.
By the time he reached zero he was asleep.
***
The End