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It was 9 at night and Izuku was in the corner store. It was a little late for someone so small and so vulnerable to be in such a place so late at night, thought the exhausted cashier, especially since the boy had been there for hours now.
Mom had dropped him off here at 2 to run an errands She said she was just going to get a quick haircut. The salon was eight minutes away, and she was getting a trim. An hour at most.
She also gave him a thousand yen bill to, “buy yourself some snacks, Izuku, I’ll pick you up in a bit,” and gave him a quick, unsatisfactory hug.
He had paced around the store at first, looking at all the snacks and drinks, all the things he never thought a corner store would sell, like duct tape and super glue and toys that looked like they’d fall apart with one play session. He thought about how the gum would taste, if the mints would make his mouth feel icy cold.
He didn’t think of buying anything yet.
It was an hour before he was bored of that.
That meant it was time for her to pick him up!
He stood outside for a while, to make sure he saw mom’s car before she got here, so he would be ready and wouldn’t make her wait. Three was the hottest time of day and sweat dripped down his neck, collected in his elbows and knees.
A lot of people glanced at him before going into the store, and someone offered him a water bottle that he politely refused, mom’s warning of ‘don’t talk to strangers’ ringing in his mind.
He went back inside once the shadows crept across the street, chasing the light of day.
The moment he was once again in the cool air conditioned room, he heaved a sigh of relief, the wetness of his shirt pressing against his back. A sick, unpleasant feeling he knew well began to climb up his throat.
He pushed down the tears. She was just a little late, or she decided to run an errand. The cashier’s eyes felt painful on the back of his head.
He watched the glass door until the sun was just above the horizon, barely able to admire the sunset because where was mom, she should be here already, was he being a spoiled brat by thinking that? That was probably why she gave him the thousand yen, she probably expected to be gone a little longer.
He ignored that it was now 6pm and could not be described as ‘a little longer’ than what she’d said.
Izuku gazed into the flickering light just off center of the counter until there were lightspots in his vision and the flickering gave him an ache in his temples.
He swore he stared at it so long he could hear the electrical buzzing in the back of his mind.
He didn’t buy anything. His tummy hurt but he still didn’t buy anything because she told him that he owed her for feeding him and giving him a bed and that thousand yen would be the first step.
The store became pretty crowded with people getting out of work in rumpled suits, exhausted like zombies, buying cheap, quick meals to end their days.
“Hey kid, aren’t you hungry?” The cashier asked around 7 (Izuku knew because there was a a-na-log clock that he learned to read in school). Izuku shook his head even while listening to his tummy rumble.
The cashier heard it too but she just smiled at him sympathetically and turned back to organizing the cash register.
The clink of coins and rustle of bills felt distant as he stared at the door, hoping for a car to pull up, to see his mom’s black flats, her yellow skirt.
Nothing, not yet.
The shadows outside had overwhelmed the small spots of remaining sunlight that danced across the sidewalk in foliage filters.
The cashier switched shifts with a new, more apathetic one who just glanced at him then went to the back to start ‘organizing inventory’. Izuku knew those were just fancy words for counting stuff and putting it back in the right place.
Much fewer people came in now that it was 8 pm, and Izuku had sat down near the entrance, but still out of the way.
It was completely dark now, and Izuku could only see the people outside if they walked near the store, the yellow lights reflecting garishly against their skin.
He heard footsteps but didn’t look up until a couple onigiri and a sandwich were placed in front of him.
He started instinctively, “I can’t take thi-”
“They expired today so I can’t have them on the shelves. Eat em or throw them away, I don’t care,” and the cashier walked back to the counter to play around on their phone.
The sick feeling at the back of his throat built up again and he felt his chest start to heave as he bit into one of the onigiri. This one was tuna but it tasted like nothing because mom wasn’t here and now he was crying. He managed to make his way through the sour plum onigiri and the ham and cheese sandwich even while sobbing, then threw out the wrappers.
Izuku looked into the window that was more like a mirror reflecting the light of the store. He ignored the tear tracks and wondered if he was a shadow of his father. Like mom always said when she thought he was asleep or not paying attention. Like she said not with love but with the fear and anger that Izuku reserved for Kacchan.
If he shaved his hair off and changed the color of his eyes, would he not look like his father? What if he acted differently, had different hobbies? What about his quirk, he didn’t have one, but…..
It was fully dark now, the moon high in the sky, bugs flying around the street lamps.
Izuku didn’t want to check the clock because it would remind him of how long it had been since his mom had left him here.
He almost fell asleep with his eyes open when he heard familiar footsteps.
“Shrimp.”
Izuku turned around to see the cashier point at the clock, “it’s midnight, we’re closing up. You have someone to pick you up?”
Izuku sniffled, trying to suck back his tears, and nodded. It was taking a long time, but surely his mom wouldn’t just… Leave him here, right?
The cashier looked at him suspiciously, but sighed and relented, “there’s a twenty-four hour internet cafe just down the street. It might be harder for them to find you, but it’s safer than just standing outside the store.”
Izuku nodded.
Izuku went to the internet cafe as advised. He gave up on saving the thousand yen and bought an hour of time instead.
First he looked up nearby accidents. Anything that would have prevented mom from getting to him. There was nothing.
He looked up all villain attacks and fights in the area. She wasn’t on the list of those involved or victims.
He was glad she probably wasn’t hurt, but… His heart sank as he faced the possibility that she had simply… Forgotten about him.
The tears welled up again and he looked up directions for how to get home from here. It was a two hour walk. It had been a pretty long drive to get here, but mom had said that she really liked this salon and didn’t want to go to another one.
He printed out the instructions and left. He’d be able to read them in the light.
He ventured out into the dark and marveled at all the adults who looked at a kid walking around at one in the morning and then looked away.
He slowly made his way through the streets, his legs aching, keeping watch for mom’s car, her black flats, her yellow skirt.
Finally, he was home.
He knocked on the door, exhausted, bedraggled, sweaty, on the edge of tears, clammy hand clutching a crumpled map.
Nobody answered.
He knocked again, harder this time. Maybe she hadn’t heard him?
Nothing. The house remained dark, no footsteps rushing to the door, no mother who forgot her son.
He knocked even harder, and kept knocking, determined to get a response, any response, even if it was mom wrenching open the door and yelling at him. He would take anything.
Soon, he was banging on the door, rivulets of tears streaming down his face because he was so tired and he just wanted to see his mom, he just wanted to her to hug him and tell him she loved him even if it meant that she would forget him at another corner store or at school or at Auntie Bakugou’s house.
He gave up when it hurt too much to keep knocking, when he turned his fists around and, even in the dim of the streetlight, could see how raw and red and scraped his knuckles were.
Izuku slumped against the door, and kept waiting. For his mother to open the door, for her to wake up, maybe she hadn't even come home yet?
He didn’t know and couldn’t find out so he waited.
Eventually his body betrayed him and he fell asleep on the doorstep, tear tracks still wet on his face.
He woke up to glaring sun and a worried voice.
“Izuku?!”
He shot up, completely awake now, “mom!”
Then he took in the person before him.
Not mom, Auntie Bakugou.
“Izuku, sweetheart,” she came closer and helped him up, his legs shaking from yesterday’s trek, “why were you sleeping there?”
“I-I don’t-” he tried to speak but the tears choked his throat and blinded his eyes so he had to stumble through every word in his explanation until she understood it all.
“She just… Left you there?” Auntie seemed both dubious and outraged, pulling out her phone, “I called her this morning, but she didn’t answer, so I came over. I’ll call her again.”
She pressed a button, and Izuku heard the dialing from the phone but nothing from inside.
“Nothing? I’ll try the home phone then.”
This time, Izuku heard the phone ring from inside. He heard it ring until it stopped ringing, and the call ended itself. The house remained silent.
Izuku felt that same sick feeling from before in his chest.
Auntie Bakugou was silent for a while, staring at the phone, clearly disturbed.
“You said she left you at a corner store?”
Izuku nodded.
“Why didn’t she just leave you with me? That’s what she usually does…”
This was not a question that required an answer, and Izuku did not have one. He wanted to know just as much as she did why he’d been left in a corner store to watch the clock tick by and shadows grow long.
“Ok sweetie, tell you what. I’ll take you home with me, and Inko can pick you up when she comes back, alright?” Izuku nodded, “she probably just wanted some alone time,” she stroked his head, “don’t worry too much.”
Whenever mom wanted alone time, she would just tell Izuku, so he didn’t think that was it, but he wouldn’t say that to Auntie Bakugou, her shoulders were already so rigid and her hands were shaky and he didn’t want her to be even more sad.
The sick feeling swelled into his stomach, stirring up nausea.
They walked over to the Bakugou house, Auntie slowing down to match Izuku’s weary speed.
As they entered the house, Izuku caught a headline on the tv before Auntie turned it off.
“Villain ‘Dragon’ Returns To Terrorize Tokyo”
Huh.
Izuku didn’t know there was a villain named Dragon.
The sick feeling erupted, and Izuku ran to the bathroom to vomit.