Chapter Text
Izumi runs for a lot of reasons.
She runs to hide.
She runs to evade.
She runs because she’s a coward.
She runs because she’s never enough.
Izumi… doesn’t like running that much, but sometimes she does it because it’s necessary.
“I’m laaate!” She yelled out, crashing around the orphanage in hopes of finding what she needs. Her siblings— not her charges, no, they had a closer bond— laughed as she sprinted around the house, agilely dodging lamps and other paraphernalia that littered the halls as she desperately searched for the rest of her uniform. She had to find the shirt, and she wasn’t supposed to wear her dusty red high-tops, they were too old to work in, so where—
“Looking for something?”
Izumi dug her heels in, stopping just before hitting a kid. “What…” she paused, taking deep breaths. “What gave it away?”
Eido laughed, holding out a folded shirt and a pair of scuffed black flats. As Izumi stuttered, the younger girl shoved the small bundle into the older's arms, turning around and skipping away, not before calling out a “Have a good day at work!”
Izumi straightened, already turning around. “Thanks, Ei-chan! I’ll be back at nine!” And with that, she turned tail and ran to the bathroom, changing quickly and sprinting out the door.
Izumi was a weird kid with a weirder background. She was a Quirkless fourteen year old who had two full-time jobs and school on her plate, not to mention the fourteen kids under her care. Even though she had no parents, she still had her family name of Midoriya, though nobody calls her that. She always introduced herself with her given name, no matter the circumstances, and there was nothing else to it.
Unless people introduced her as Deku.
That was also something people called her.
She skidded across the sidewalk, realizing that she was already past the hardware store that neighbored the quaint tea shop she worked at. She turned around, straightening her collar a bit and swiping her hair into two pigtails before entering the building, kicking off her red shoes to slide on her black ones. “I’m here!” she called out, already slowing her pace to a jog to accommodate being indoors. Several patrons laughed at her antics, already used to her as she passed by each table.
“Hey there, Izumi-chan,” one of the younger customers called, giving a slight smile as they sipped their tea. They were just introduced to the café, but it seemed like they were enjoying the place immensely.
At least, that was what Izumi hoped.
“Hi, sir!” She called over her shoulder, almost to the employee rest area. “I’ll be out in just a minute!”
She heard soft laughter as she shut the door, taking deep breaths to calm her beating heart. She had about two minutes before her shift officially started, which gave her just enough time to catch her breath and get ready for the onslaught of people.
“I’m here, sir!” Izumi called after she finally unbarricaded herself from the staff room. She went behind the counter, waving to most of them. Since there were usually not that many customers, they only had one person working for each shift, leaving Izumi to take customers orders, make the teas, and serve them, not that she wasn’t used to it being like that in the orphanage.
“Oh hello, Izumi-chan!” Yamato-san called, already handing her an apron. He was the old man who owned the café, a kind gentleman who was nearing eighty. He was the only person to say yes to her working, aside from the orphanage.
“Anything I should know before starting?” She called, tying the apron behind her back as she closed the entrance to the bar. “It seems to be a slow day.”
“Yeah, I planned on closing up early today,” he said, pulling his hair tie out to release his long grey hair. He had taken it as a personal challenge to grow it out as long as he could, and was still going strong. When he extended that challenge to his beard, however, it lasted a week before he shaved it. “I'll be back around seven, alright?”
Izumi looked at the clock. That left about four hours for the day. She turned back, grinning. “Yes sir!”
Wiping the tables done last time, she stood up fully, wiping her brow. “And that’s everything,” she muttered happily, heading around back to collect her shoes. After closing up shop, Yanago had left the clean up to Izumi, instead going to grab what they needed for the next day. Izumi didn’t mind— she never did, she actually liked cleaning up, as weird as it sounded. It gave her time to think, much like listening to music did. It felt like a breath of fresh air after a long day.
Hanging her apron back up in the staff room, she left through the back door, double checking it would lock behind her as she made her way back to the orphanage. She was wiped, as usual, and just wanted to read a story to the younger children or maybe sing them a lullaby. They seemed to like her singing, as rough as it was.
As she wandered closer to where she lived, she got more stares as people stopped seeing her as another face in the crowd and started seeing the weak, Quirkless girl they always saw. Before long, the whispers started up again, and Izumi did her best to try and tune it out, but some got past her barriers.
“Hey, isn’t that the Quirkless that’s always seen by the orphanage.”
“Huh, her own family didn’t even want her. That’s so sad.”
“I would wish that she’d get adopted. But we both know that’s not gonna happen.”
That’s not true, she thought, shaking her head as she started to walk, faster than before.
“Running again? She’s so weak, she can’t even face her problems head-on.”
“This is why Quirkless don’t last long— they can’t think of anything but running.”
“Damn Quirkless— all they do is take up space.”
And all Izumi could think to do was run.
She took a deep breath, standing outside of the orphanage. She just wanted to go somewhere far, far away, where nobody knew her name, let alone her Quirk. She just wanted. To be another face in the crowd, and not the weak, Quirkless wannabe who just gets in the way. She just wanted to be free.
She took one more breath, then opened the door.
“Izu-chan!”
“Izumi!”
“Izu!”
Three bodies crashed into her, almost knocking her to the ground. “Oh, alrighty then, lets settle down,” Izumi chided, watching with an amused smile as the three youngest got to their feet, bowing repeatedly as they apologized loudly. Most of the other kids ignored the scene, used to the shenanigans the ankle biters would get up to on a daily basis.
“So, how was work?” Benjiro, the oldest at seventeen, asked with raised eyebrows. It seemed like he was just waiting for the day that Izumi would come home in tears, whining about how she lost her job.
With a smile, Izumi replied with: “Very slow! Yanago-san decided to just close up shop early, so I get to be home!”
The youngest children cheered as Benjiro just scoffed, looking back to his textbook. He was looking to get into medical school next year, mostly in it for the profit so he “wouldn’t have to go through this again.” Well, not exactly, but it gets the message across without the added language.
“Ah, Izumi-chan, welcome home,” one of the caretakers said warmly, getting up from her chair. “I trust you can take it from here?”
You just don’t want to be here, Izumi thought, but instead of saying that, she gave a loud affirmative, bowing down deeply to the retreating figure. As the door closed behind her, it seemed like the tension melted out of the room slightly, as the hall became just the bit more rambunctious, talking freely as there was a more familiar figure standing with them.
As Izumi looked at the clock, she gave herself a mental scolding. Turning towards the nearest kid, she asked kindly, “Did you have any dinner?”
She honestly didn’t trust the others to take care of these children.
Those doubts were given a root to hold onto as Eido smiled at her, oblivious to how wrong her next words were. “We got the leftovers from what the older kids got! It was really yummy, I think it was katsudon!”
Izumi mentally screamed. Why the hell were these adults taking care of the next generation?
“Oh,” she put simply, looking out to the hoard of small kids in the corner, all scribbling on one piece of paper. I can only guess what that is, she thought with a smile, before turning back to the matter at hand. “Do you want me to make anything else for you? Are you still hungry?”
“Oh, I’m okay, don’t wor—“ As if on cue, her stomach gave a loud rumble. They sat in relative silence for a second before Eido muttered, “I’m a little hungry.”
Izumi smiled. “Alrighty. Why don’t you go ask the others if they need some more food while I go whip it up? I think I can make some real katsudon for you.”
Eido brightened immediately. “Really? Oh, thank you thank you thank you! I’ll go ask the others!” With that, she ran off to the opposite corner, whispering excitedly. She sighed as they all looked innocent and excited at the mention of a real dinner, breaking her heart on the inside. Even the caretakers didn’t think they would make anything other than low-level villains. It honestly was starting to piss her off.
Walking into the kitchen, Izumi quickly took stock of their ingredients. She knew she had gone shopping the other day, so she knew there was enough to feed everyone else. So why, why , would they not make enough food?
It made her so, so mad to find everything where she left it the day before, excluding a few vegetables and a pack of pork that was used for dinner that night. She grabbed an apron, tying it behind her back as Michiko, one of the older kids, walked into the kitchen, looking over to Izumi. “We already had dinner,” he stated simply, already turning to go back to the living area. He didn’t greet her or look at her face, didn’t take into account that the smaller children didn’t get a damn thing to eat.
“The younger kids didn’t get a proper portion, and I still need something to eat, so I’m just making some more!” She called cheerily, smiling to hide her grinding teeth, smiling just like she knew her idol would. She didn’t want to cause a scene, especially not with the children ten steps away.
“You should’ve grabbed something from your little café.” He turned fully, flicking off the lights as he shut the door behind him. Izumi sighed, watching the door as the footsteps behind it went farther and farther away.
“Well then, somethings got him in a funk!” Izumi mumbled. “Maybe I can make some taffy, they always get excited for that!” With that thought in mind, she walked over to the door, turning the lights back on and opening the door a crack so she could hear whatever was going on. It seemed like they were playing a card game, but she didn’t pay it much mind as she went about preparing the dish, her mind wandering.
She really did love the kids. They were amazing, and would grow up to do great things in the community. Still, some of them couldn’t set aside their prejudices when it came to Quirkless people, even though they themselves faced the same type of discrimination for their “weak” or “villainous” Quirks. Izumi knew it was just the thoughts that society had planted in their brains, she knew that, but it still hurt every time they did something so blatantly wrong, something that happens to them all the time as well.
Izumi shook her head, turning the heat down as she waited for dinner to cook. She still had enough time to correct society’s mistakes, she would be able to change their mind on thoughtless discrimination.
At least, that was what she hoped would happen.