Chapter Text
Great... Izuku Thought to himself. Another retched day for him. See days for him were like a roller coaster. Some were that he avoided bullying or only got called a few names and was able to not be in sight of his mom when he got home. Or just downright cruel possibly inhumane.
But today felt especially bad. He got caught by a villain that he then fell victim to right before Number 1 hero All Might showed up and helped him. It would have been the best day of his life... would have. You see that number one slot went down to a -30,098 slot as he was left on the roof of a building by All Might himself. The scene replaying and replaying in the back of Izuku's mind.
"Can I be a hero... I might not have a quirk" cutting off by "To put it simple it would be a suicide wish to try to be a hero without a quirk."
Izuku's fists clench, heartbeat pacing as he mutters to himself. "Useless..." in his life it's like that word is always directed to him. His mother shouting that she wanted a fit healthy son that could protect himself as he came home bloodied and bruised just to make the injuries worse. To his childhood 'best friend' that gave him the name Deku.
The world was so cruel to those who had no quirks. "All men are not created equal" he says to himself wiping away the tears that started streaming down his cheeks. Finaly, he left the roof top and walking into his house he found a rare sight of his mom not being in the living room. Curious if he was actually alone, he checked his mother's room. No one. He was alone. Good he thought to himself.
Sitting in his room door locked and a box of razors in front of him. "It won't hurt to do a few..." He says to himself picking up the sharp blade and dragging it lightly across his thigh. Just to see how sharp it was, it left a scratch but no cut. He tried again but this time the pressure was more and slow. As he dragged the blade across his skin a line of red beads came through rapidly behind the blade. It was blood, it had cut. Izuku had never been scared of blood. He actually enjoyed it, but he wasn't someone who watched gore on a daily basis.
He didn't like it that much, but he would have no reaction to it being shown to him. He liked when he bled it made him feel better. He thought that punishing himself by this is better than someone else punishing him. His mom wouldn't care if he cut himself at all, it just gives her an excuse to send him back to that fucking hospital.
Scrape after scrape soon it really started to hurt. Thats when he ends his round. Yeah, it stings while he does it but soon the blood loss gets to him. The blood drying up as his cells try to stop any more blood from coming out the wound. Static that was once in his mind draws clear as he feels the sharp pain of what he's done and guilt washes over him like a blanket that overly heavy and uncomfortable.
"God I'm a mess..." He mumbles to himself looking at his shredded thighs. "I should have just jumped off the roof that he left me on." He sighs and flops back on his bed, the box of razors jumping up a little at the bounce. He's too lazy to clean up. He's done, tired, but he knows that if mom found out all that relief would just fly out the window.
He lays there in the pit of guilt on his bed. More stinging to his thighs, its best to take a shower at this point. Sitting up and hiding the box grabbing cloths as he shoves the box to the back of his pants drawer. He's dizzy "too deep" he breaths out as he closed the drawer and walking to the shower. Tired, slow, and painful steps to the other side of the hallway. Still bleeding out of some places. Hopefully tomorrow is a better day...