Chapter Text
Izuku was never a stranger to silence. From a young age he was told to be quiet when his mother was busy or by doctors when he was in pain in front of them or teachers when other students had hit or pushed him.
“They didn’t mean it Izuku, keep playing.” Words said with stern faces, ushering him to leave them be for the remainder of the recess.
“You must be one clumsy child to hurt yourself so much little Izuku.” Half hidden annoyance in their voices as they stared at the chart of the boy in the bed, arm broken in a way that was obviously due to another person.
“Izuku. You need to be quiet when Mommy’s working, okay? If you can’t be quiet you’ll have to go to your room without dinner.”
Izuku quickly learned that the safest thing he could say was nothing.
Izuku used to have a best friend. The best in the world! Until Izuku couldn’t manifest a quirk. He had tried so hard, dreamed and wished every night for an amazing quirk just like Kacchan’s but the doctor told him it would never happen, and just like that Izuku’s world came crashing down on him.
After that doctor's appointment Kacchan stopped coming over to play, the teachers stopped paying attention to his pained cries coming from the playground, and his mother began staying late at work and starting early seeing less and less of her son.
And soon enough Izuku stopped inviting Kacchan over to play, he stopped screaming in pain, and he stopped searching for his mother whenever he got home from preschool.
After getting used to his new routine of getting himself ready for school, thankful that breakfast and lunch were provided by school as he did not quite have the height nor skills to utilize the kitchen, Izuku began walking to school everyday.
It wasn’t like the preschool was particularly far from Izuku’s house but he did have to walk (waddle) through some dodgy parts of town. Despite the scenery, Izuku never felt unsafe, he felt more safe walking through crime ridden streets around his house than he did at school or actually at his house when his mother was actually home.
Everyday Izuku walked the same path: Leave the apartment, walk past Kacchan’s house, past Mr. Nakamura’s shop, turn right, past the local bar that looked a little rough around the edges, wave to Mrs. Fukushima, turn left, then school was straight ahead.
Inko was still home sometimes, it was still her house after all, but Izuku only saw his mother on weekends when she didn’t work, other times when she arrived home he was either asleep or at school.
“Honey, come here.” She called from the kitchen, and Izuku ran down the hall in his All Might onesie and crashed into his mom’s legs. “Oh! Hon be careful, I could have split dinner” She scolded her son lightly, and while Izuku understood that he distantly wondered if dinner was more important than him potentially getting hurt.
“Sorry Mom, I’ll be more careful.” He mumbled back to her as she gently ruffled his hair.
As Izuku’s routine continued into first year of elementary school he had begun to realise a warmth within himself and with all the alone time and privacy he could need he began experimenting with what the unusual warmth was.
Izuku sat on the couch, closed his eyes and reached towards the internal warmth, he pictured pulling the warmth forward and grasping it in his hands, and when he opened his eyes he saw light in his hands, he thought the light looked like pom-poms or puffballs and he noticed that the light in his hand was neither hot nor heavy but warm -a comforting warmth- and light -no pun intended.
Throughout Izuku’s second year of elementary school he continued to practice and learn more about his quirk, he was soon able to activate his quirk with ease and learnt about what forms the quirk could take: pom-poms, walls, and a cowl over his body were his favourites and he soon began mastering them.
Also throughout Izuku’s second year of elementary he began to make some new friends, not at school of course, while he did have a quirk, he couldn’t legally use it and was registered as quirkless so instead he began his friend-making adventure at the safest place he knew of: The dodgy side if town! Izuku favoured Mr. Nakamura’s takoyaki shop and the bar that was somehow still in business.
Mr. Nakamura was really nice and whenever he saw Izuku he waved him over and gave him the first batch of Takoyaki of the day, he was just such a nice old man. Eventually Mr. Nakamura would convince Izuku to call him grandpa.
The bartender at the bar would allow Izuku to sit in the bar and gave him free apple juices anytime he wanted but Izuku was hesitant to take them as compared to the friendly face of the street vendor Nakamura, Izuku couldn’t even see this man’s face, he was covered in mist head to toe -or maybe made of mist?- and wearing a bespoke suit, however after a few visits to the bar the young Izuku deemed this man safe and drank all the apple juice he could.
Over the course of Izuku’s visits, he saw a varying group of customers, most were just average customers, some were sketchy looking people, and one was a boy a little bit older than Izuku with shaggy blue hair. The boy always wore gloves and stayed by the bar, by the bartender.
“Hi, my name's Izuku, what’s yours?” Izuku said with a smile on his face and his hand outstretched between them. The other boy looked shocked at Izuku’s actions, then only stared wide-eyed at the outstretched hand.
The boy left soon after with a short and clearly annoyed conversation with the bartender.
“Please don’t mind him, Mr. Izuku, he’s not very social.” The bartender’s yellow eyes squinted as if he were smiling and Izuku started to feel pretty good about how that whole situation went.
Despite the bartender’s soft warning about the social ability of the boy, Izuku continued to try to talk to him whenever he saw him at the bar, unfortunately to no avail.
“It’s no use Kurogiri, I don’t think he wants to be friends.” Izuku pouted as he threw his body over the bar.
“Of course he does Mr. Izuku, he talks about you all the time at home.” Kurogiri -the bartender- had been serving Izuku for about a year now, Izuku was now 8 years old and despite his age his intelligence was unmatched, and the bar knew it, they held the competition.
“Mr. Kurogiri, please stop with the ‘Mr’ thingy. I'm 8.” Izuku giggled at the misty bartender before he picked up his apple juice, finished it and picked up the rest of his belongings. “Anyway, I’m going now, bye bye.”
Kurogiri waved goodbye to his smallest customer and as the door closed behind him, Izuku felt the evening breeze card through his hair and nip at his nose, with a small smile he made his way home.
“My name is Tomura Shigaraki…” The blue haired boy finally said, it had been a year and a half since Izuku had started coming to the bar and he FINALLY got to talk to the cool older boy that was there too. Izuku was practically vibrating with energy when the boy spoke, so much so that his quirk activated and he had to shake his hands free of the excess.
“It’s nice to meet you!” Izuku smiled back and stretched his hand out yet again.
“Oh um- I can’t” The boy Shigaraki said and a gloved hand reached up to scratch his neck. “It’s um- my quirk.”
“You’re wearing gloves aren’t you? If your quirk is a five point contact quirk, your gloves should keep us both safe.” Izuku said, clearly not put off by Tomura Shigaraki’s general disposition.
“I…I guess?” Shigaraki looked like a deer in headlights until he looked towards Kurogiri who only nodded, Shigaraki smiled at that and grabbed Izuku’s hand.
It was warm.
Izuku later learned that Shigaraki had been terrified to touch anyone other than his father and Kurogiri after what happened when his quirk manifested. The entire time Izuku was at the bar, the two were linked, their hands clasped together.
Tomura later learned that Izuku hadn’t had a friend or really had any physical contact with anyone for four years. The entire time Tomura was at the bar, the two were linked, their hands clasped together.
It was so warm.