Work Text:
Background noise of traffic in the distance kept the silence at bay, as the rain accompanied Izuku on his nightly walk into the city.
He’d arrived at a large bridge that connected this city and the next to each other. Another one stood at the other side of the city, but Izuku didn’t know how it looked like, having never been there before. He still wanted to take a peek at the bridge, just like he’d watched the city lights on this one for about a month now.
He sighed as the cold of a winter night blew past him, making him shiver a bit. His all too thin jacket wouldn’t be able to keep him warm and would’ve made his mother worry sick.
But he ignored all of those thoughts that would remind him and instead focused on the way the water moved, the moon shone and the stars twinkled.
It had been years since he’d heard that he was quirkless. And even now, after all that time, it affected him.
People were more prone to turn him down. From schools, to jobs, to even people he wanted to befriend.
In those moments he desperately hoped to be reborn with a quirk, to be saved from any more misery from a thing that was never in his control.
Suddenly, Izuku got rudely called back to reality by a loud horn of a truck passing by on the bridge. It must’ve seen Izuku and thought that he shouldn’t be here, but he didn’t care. Not anymore for the opinions of others.
At one point he did and sometimes he wish he did still. But it was what it was. He looked down, nothing but darkness that seemed to be endless. It laid still and unmoving as if it sleeping. But despite the minimal movement, Izuku could still hear the splashing of animals in the water.
It made him wonder that if he joined, they would accept him or not. Or if they would cast him aside like the others.
Even his mom, who’d been his only support system up until that point. Even his best friend who he’d known since childhood, since he could talk for the first time.
News of new heroes rising up and others doing their best as ever, made him feel like they were right, that he was indeed never going to become something.
But he always landed on the same answer each time, no.
Because he was too different, too weird, too much, too little.
And at some point, it stopped making him sad, it just made him feel numb inside.
Because this wasn’t his fault, it was theirs.
It wasn’t his fault that they wore a blindfold. To see everything but the norm as wrong or bad. They almost succeeded in making Izuku wear that blindfold too, but he escaped.
These late nights out reminded him of the fact that the world was different, could be different, than what the people had made it to be.
But every time he would also be hit with disappointment in the morning. When the fantasies of alternative worlds and societies of his imagination hadn’t come to life.
When the behavior of those people were still the same as ever. When he would feel inferior again.
The only thing he could do was keep his head low and wait for the next time he could be alone with solitude itself.