Chapter Text
The boy is dimly aware of the blood on his hands as he slowly staggers down the street. Each step is a struggle. He can’t get enough air into his lungs. His heart is as jittery as his fingers.
People cast long shadows as they pass him in even longer arcs, faces distorted in horror and disgust. His bloodshot eyes flicker from face to face. One shadowy person lingers in his vision longer than the others.
The boy opens his mouth.
He chokes.
He swallows, mouth dry, and tries again.
“Help,” he croaks out.
The person has already left.
The boy can’t bring himself to keep walking. His feet hurt. His chest hurts. His neck itches. He wants somebody– anybody– to stop and reach out their hand. That’s all.
But why would they?
Why would anyone want to–
“Are you okay?”
His breath hitches and his head whips up from where he was glaring at the dirty pavement. He is met with two brilliantly green eyes. They are close to popping out of his head from how wide they are. The boy in front of him has a kind face, dotted with freckles, and framed by an unruly mop of green curls. He is wearing a shirt that has All Might’s smile on it.
“Hey! Are you okay?” the kid asks again, voice high from fear. Not of him, the boy realises. For him. The kid takes a step closer. His hand moves.
Instinctively, the boy flinches away, bringing his bloody hands closer to his chest. The kid immediately stops in his tracks, but his hand remains suspended in the air, reaching out for the boy. An offer for him to take.
Shivers wreck the boy’s body and he swallows. His mouth feels like sandpaper. Cautiously, he looks at the kid’s face again. He finds no doubt in his eyes. Only desperation. Desperation that he himself shares.
Tentatively, the boy moves his hand towards the kid. He hesitates. Then his finger hooks with one of the kid’s. The reaction is immediate. The kid beams at him and pulls him closer, as if completely unaware of the blood that now stains his own hand too.
“Izuku!” someone yells, approaching them rapidly.
The kid, Izuku, whips around, all the while keeping a steady hold on his finger.
“Momma!” he calls back, a second before a body pulls Izuku into a tight embrace, jostling the boy slightly in the process.
“Oh, dear! You vanished from my side and I was so worried that you had gotten lost! I should have kept a better eye on you! I am such a horrible mother! How could I–”
Izuku wriggles free from the woman’s hold and gently pulls the boy to stand next to him. “Momma! I found a new friend. We need to help him!”
Friend.
The moment the woman’s eyes land on the boy, she is immediately by his side, crouching to get a better look at him. She says something, but the boy is too focused on her eyes to hear her. They are just as green as Izuku’s. Just as kind. They hold none of the darkness and emptiness like his. His eyes prickle, but are too dry to form any tears. His devastation must show on his face, though, because suddenly soft and warm hands take his free hand and clasp it gently but firmly. She smiles at him and in that moment, the boy’s world narrows around these two kind strangers in front of him, both of his hands held by them.
“What is your name?” the woman asks, voice slow and gentle.
The boy opens his mouth.
“Help,” he whispers in a fragile voice.
The woman’s lips tremble and her eyes start to shine from gathering tears. The hold on his hand grows stronger. “I will,” she says.
“I will too!” Izuku pipes up.
The boy looks at them, stunned. The woman leans closer.
“We will do everything to get you to safety, to help you, to save you. You will never have to go back to where you fled from. Nobody will hurt you again. I promise.” Not once do her eyes flicker away from him, not for even a second as she says those words.
Something dark and ugly in the boy shatters, bringing along a new flood of emotions. His eyes that he thought to be dry start watering. A whine escapes him before his body is completely wrecked by sobs. He doesn’t know when he gets pulled into a tight, protective hug. He is dimly aware of a smaller set of hands latching onto his back. All he knows is that he is safe.
He likes that feeling.