Chapter Text
Did you know that bone fragments count as small objects? Well they do, and so do organs. Izuku Midoriya realized this a little too late; sitting on the floor, sobbing as his mother wrenched the bones through his skin with her quirk.
“Shut up! Shut the fuck up you useless peice of shit!” She screamed in his face, only making him sob harder. She had been different since the diagnosis, but he never thought she’d go this far. She had caught him wrapping the new starburst burns on his stomach, courtesy of Kacchan, and it must have been the last straw.
“I’m s-sorry!” His whimpering voice only served to make her more angry, and he panicked when he felt his insides shift, his lungs pressing against the inside of his ribcage, desperate to break free. His eyes widened as he coughed up blood, and he ran. He sprinted at full speed through the city until he reached the redlight district. Only then did Izuku realize that he wasn't wearing a shirt, only the shitty bandages that covered his burns.
“It’s all my fault.” He whispered to himself after taking shelter behind a dumpster.
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That first night, he nearly froze. He was tired, cold, hungry and utterly alone. He had found a threadbare hoodie in a dumpster that did more for modesty purposes, rather than heat. His lips were blue, and his face crusted with frozen tears. He still had broken bones, and his left hand was completely useless, but at least his lungs were back in their place. He knew he would have to steal to survive, but his conscience wouldn't let him so he went to sleep starving.
Someone help me.
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The bell rang as he walked into the convenience store. He had only lasted two days before giving in.
How do I do this? I can't exactly fit much food into my sweatpants. I should grab as much as possible and make a run for it
As he walked through the store, he snaked bandages and cans of food from the shelves. The pain of using his broken arm was excruciating, but he powered through in favor of not dying.
“Hey kid, do you need help?” he flinched when the cashier called out to him. He took a deep breath and shook his head
“Ok just tell me if you do!” He nodded and continued stuffing his sweatpants pockets with as much food as possible. He even found a small switchblade! He could feel the cashier looking in his direction. Once he was satisfied, Izuku ran. Out the door, ignoring the cashiers screaming, and down the street. The young man followed the boy for about two blocks before he lost Izuku to the alleyways of the city. Izuku ran for a little while after losing the cashier, only stopping when he reached the dumpster he had slept in the past few nights. In the end he only ended up getting away with about 6 packs of crackers, a can of soup, two rolls of bandages, and the switchblade. He would have to find water elsewhere. After packing his things into a plastic bag he found, he fell into an uncomfortable, cold sleep.
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Izuku had been on the streets for about 3 months when he got his first job cleaning at a bar. The money wasn't enough to buy anything other than food, but he guessed it was good enough. Beggars can't be choosers after all. He had been forced to move out of the alleyway when it became a meeting spot for one of the local gangs, and he didn't feel safe there anymore.
He now lived in a condemned house near the bar he worked at. All in all, his life sucked. His left arm was still healing, but he knew that there was no way he would ever be able to use it again; it was covered in scars and his fingers were bent funny. He had been chased by cops at least 4 times for ‘looking suspicious’ and was getting tired of it. Weren’t the heroes supposed to help people like him? Not only had he not been reported missing, but it seemed that no one noticed he was gone. Until one day, when he was running errands for his boss at the bar, he saw Kacchan.
Fuck, he had gotten too close. One of Kacchan’s friends saw him and made a scene. His stomach dropped when green eyes met red, and he stepped back hoping that his childhood friend wouldn't recognise him.
“SHITTY DEKU WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN!?!” Well fuck. He's gonna die. Izuku turned and ran when Bakugou charged him. He could hear the explosions as he ran through the familiar maze of alleys. Unfortunately, no matter what he did, the blonde was gaining on him. The maze got more and more confusing as he ran into unfamiliar territory. He turned a corner and fuck- it was a dead end. He backed into a corner, trying to be small.
“Where the hell were you Deku?” Izuku flinched at the poison in his former friend's voice, knowing what came next. He closed his eyes as the hand wrapped around his neck, and shoved him to the ground. Suddenly there was a sharp pain in his stomach and blood dripping from his nose. Bakugou landed blow after blow, laughing all the while. Eventually, though, he got bored. Izuku felt a hand on his chin as the blond pulled his face up to look him in the eye.
“You seriously are just a punching bag, aren't you? Honestly you should just pray for a quirk in your next life, and take a swan dive off a roof.” With that, he dropped Izuku’s chin, his head hitting the concrete with a sickening crack. Izuku didn't know how long he was laying in the alleyway, just that it was dark by the time he managed to pull himself off the ground.
I'm going to kill him one day, and he’ll finally know what it’s like to hurt.