Chapter Text
The ache in his body wasn’t the worst thing he felt when he woke up. It was the initial disappointment he felt in doing so.
Izuku Midoriya laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, the blur never leaving his eyes.
He lived another day. Another day he hoped to never see.
He lifted himself up, his head feeling too heavy to hold up on its own. He grabbed a fistful of hair and groaned painfully out loud, feeling the sharp pain like knives being shoved into his ears.
He turned his head toward the window, squinting at the bright moonlight blinding him, a warm summer breeze flowing inside.
He stood up slowly, any faster and his body would give out on him. He trudged toward the window and pulled the blinds shut, rubbing his eyes, before walking up to the nightstand beside his bed and staring at the empty bottle of opioids that had failed him just the night before.
Useless. He thought silently to himself as he picked them up, walking to the trashcan and throwing the bottle away. He was already low on his prescription before downing the rest of what he had, but alcohol and courage made him think this attempt would be the one. Deep down, he knew this one would end up just like his last.
Izuku slid against the wall next to the trash can, holding it up to his mouth, before retching right into it, everything from the night previously escaping his system. He sat for a while, even after he was done.
Coward.
“Damn it…” he uttered quietly to himself as he lifted his head up, letting it thump back against the wall. He glanced around his tiny apartment and sighed, feeling tears start to sting his eyes.
How did I end up like this?
“You’re fired.”
Izuku stared blankly into the eyes of his boss, a moment of silence filling the room. It was only them two, and it only took a single minute for his boss to come to that conclusion.
He expected this, a while ago. He was surprised they kept him for so long. Pressure must have finally gotten to them, or maybe they were already planning on sacking him this entire time.
It still hurt. This was his job for the past four years. He knew he wasn’t getting another one. But this was the best thing for them to do.
It still hurt a lot.
“Fired?”
“Indeed. Need I explain?”
“No, um…” Izuku felt sweat trickle down the back of his neck, his face suddenly felt hot. “No, no need. I’m…—“
“Here is your check.”
Izuku stared at the little piece of paper being handed to him, reaching out with shaking hands to grab it.
4 years of work… this is how you send me off?
“Thanks.” He uttered, staring for another long moment, but his boss paid him no mind as he made his exit, for the last time.
Izuku left the building swiftly, keeping his head down, minding his own business, but other people didn’t seem to want to mind theirs.
There were stares as he walked by, whispers, even a few bold ones who decided to call out to him, thinking he’d actually turn around and respond.
Outside, as the door closed behind him, the one person he wanted to avoid the most approached him.
“Yo, Midoriya! How are you man?”
Ah, the reason he was in this mess in the first place. A colleague of his. Now an ex-colleague.
A meant to be friendly but always painful slap on the back was his go to greeting, all of the time. Izuku never said it, but he hated it. Ever since the accident, even before it happened, his resentment for his colleague ran deep
“Hi.” He still smiled, shaking hands with the man, his name, Takehiro. “I’m fired.”
A pause, before his eyes widened and he slapped a hand over his mouth, letting out a snort, not caring to hide his amusement.
“No way, you’re kidding.”
“Nope, I got fired.”
“Sheesh, dude,” Takehiro laughed, grabbing Izuku’s shoulder and patting it roughly. “That’s crazy.”
Izuku didn’t know what he expected. Maybe more? Maybe even a simple, “I’m sorry.” Or even any acknowledgement to the fact that he was partially at fault for what happened too.
Wrong. He couldn’t place the blame on his colleague. Not when he wasn’t even the one who…
“Well, hope to see you around, maybe you’re destined for a job elsewhere, right?”
Izuku couldn’t stop his eye from twitching. He tried to keep his smile sincere, but it only tightened.
“Right.” He uttered. Watching as the man practically skipped his way through the doors.
The thing was, he couldn’t just… find a job elsewhere. The incident two months ago left a lasting impact on him, physically, mentally, and socially. It was even on his record. He couldn’t just find another job. He was looked down upon everywhere now. His reputation was crushed.
In his pocket, he felt his phone vibrate, and reached inside to pull out his phone, ready to ignore the call as soon as he didn’t recognize the number. Only, this caller already had a contact. It was his mom. He was quick to pick it up, holding it to his ear.
“Izuku?”
“Hi mom, what’s up?” He turned a corner, at first, walking aimlessly about. He realised he hadn’t actually spoken to his mom since the night he’d taken all of those pills. He was drunk, and despite his attempt to keep his feelings hidden, she still noticed something was wrong. She was always so worried. That night, he hung up on her without an explanation, turned his phone off, and downed the pills without so much as a text explaining why.
What kind of son are you?
“Hi, son, sorry, I… just got home, and…”
Izuku frowned slightly, his eyebrows pulling themselves together. He recognized this tone. Distress.
“What’s wrong, mom?”
“Well, I’m not sure. I don’t know if this is some sort of misunderstanding, or an accident, but… someone smashed my windows.”
Izuku stopped, abruptly, causing someone to bump into him aggressively. When Izuku didn’t move, he side stepped him, muttering insults under his breath, but Izuku hadn’t really heard what it was that he said.
Slowly, he started walking again.
“All of them? Are you okay?” Izuku asked quietly, his heart thumping hard in his chest.
What could that mean?
“Yes, dear, I’m fine. It’s only the front two, but um… there’s something else…”
“I’m on my way already, what else?”
Inko was momentarily quiet on the other side.
“Mom?”
“Izuku, have you… gotten yourself into some kind of trouble?”
“What?” Izuku said, feeling his heart jump, pound a little harder. “No? Of course not, what- mom?”
He had to lie. He had to lie to her, despite the guilt he felt doing so.
“Oh, okay. Then... yeah, surely it’s a misunderstanding.”
“Why? Why are you asking?”
“There’s just, um… you’ll see when you get here.”
It was worse than he expected.
He stood next to his mom, staring blankly at her front door, on which, painted in red, were the words “Murderer.” In big letters.
Under it, read, “He’s yours, and you’re next.”
It couldn’t sound more like a threat.
“What does this mean, Izuku?”
He felt sick. He was terrified. They found his mother’s house, and now they were going to target her.
And the worst part was, he didn’t even know who had done it. It could’ve been a group of people, or just one person alone.
“I don’t—“ He paused, swallowed the lump growing in his throat. “Don’t know, probably the wrong person.” He stepped forward, avoiding glass nearby and walking up the steps to the front door. “I’ll help you clean it up though, the paint looks fresh, so…”
Izuku stopped and glanced back when he realized his mother wasn’t following him. She was standing exactly where she was before, picking at her hands, her head down.
“Mom?” He called, worried. He stepped down and walked towards her, grabbing her hands gently and pulling them away from each other. “Hey, are you scared? I promise, it’s nothing.” Another lie. He had no idea what this meant.
“I want to trust you, ‘Zuku,” Inko looked up, tears already flowing down her cheek, a look of distrust and utter disappointment etched into her face. “But I’m hearing and seeing so many things I don’t like, I just want you to tell me the truth already.”
Shit.
She knows. She definitely knows.
“Mom, I—“
“I don’t want to hear another word out of you unless it’s the truth!” Inko yanked her hands away, staring desperately at Izuku, her tears multiplying. “I know why this is here, I called so you had the chance to explain without me having to ask. Just be honest with your mother, be honest, Izuku!”
Izuku felt himself shaking, his mind spinning as he tried to get the words out of his mouth.
“I- um…”
He sat there, stupidly, for a long while, different responses running through his head, but each time he tried to grab one, it slipped through his fingers.
In the end, all he could give her was a pathetic, “I’m sorry.”
Inko stared at her son, disappointment only growing, distrust shifting into something else. Fear. Izuku’s silence might as well have been her answer.
“Where did I go wrong?” She asked, softly. Not only to Izuku, to the world itself. After a moment, she walked past Izuku and started down the steps, unlocking the door.
“I’m sorry, mom,” Izuku cried softly, tears falling down his cheeks as he started to follow her, still keeping his distance. “I’ll explain, I’ll explain it all as soon—“
“Leave, Izuku, go home.” She muttered, walking into the kitchen and pulling a bowl out, placing it in the sink to fill with water. “I don’t want to see you right now.”
“Please!” He begged, finally approaching her and pulling her towards him, but she still refused to look at him. “Don’t do this, I can explain—“
“Izuku,” She pulled away. Again. Her voice was stern, serious, as she spoke, the loving, patient tone now gone. “Go home.”
Izuku stared at his mother’s back. The woman who worked so hard to raise him, to give him the best life she could. She was the one who set him up for success, all on her own. She cheered Izuku on when Izuku had no one else to do so.
He failed. He failed as her son. He failed as a person.
She had every right to hate him.
He decided then and there that there were no more games to play. He’d rid himself from her life for good.
He left his mother’s house swiftly, exchanging a quiet, “I love you,” before he left. She didn’t look at him when he left, but despite everything, Izuku didn’t miss her response.
“I love you too, Izuku.”
He repeated those words inside of his head as he made his way to the subway, over and over and over again, trying to spark the warmth that they always gave him. He searched hard for it, but it was nowhere to be found. The disgust and hatred he felt within himself blocked any other feelings from making their way through.
He made it just in time. The last train of the night was approaching.
He shifted closer to the edge of the platform, glancing around at his surroundings. If anyone was there, he wouldn’t do it. But unsurprisingly, no one was around. Izuku smiled halfheartedly, mumbling to himself.
“Today must really be the day.”
…
“The day for what?”
The voice frightened him so badly that he stumbled forward.
He felt time stop as he fell, the tracks getting close and closer. The train, it was coming fast. The loud horns echoing throughout the subway.
Then, it stopped.
“Careful now,” said the same voice behind him, and suddenly, Izuku was pulled back into the platform, watching as the train rushed past the both of them.
Izuku turned his head, watching in despair as the train approached the tunnel, continuing into the darkness before disappearing out of sight completely. There was his chance for the night, completely taken away from him. That was the last train of the night.
Izuku glanced back at the man who’d unfortunately just saved his life. His eyes, red and intimidating didn’t help him look any less ghostly. His skin was pale, hair a blueish grey, a color Izuku had never seem before. He didn’t recognize this man at all.
He turned around and started walking back to the subway’s exit. He wasn’t the type of person to take his frustrations out on someone else, but the urge to do so on a random man was too strong.
You’re just cranky, Izuku.
“Sir?”
Izuku ignored him as he started up the stairs, but footsteps were right behind him, marching up there just as he did. He was now being followed. Izuku stopped, abruptly, and turned his head to glance at the man behind him, eye twitching slightly as he forced a smile.
“I’m sorry,” He said, as pleasantly as he could. “Do you need something from me?”
The black suitcase in his hands was something Izuku didn’t pay attention to at first, but his eyes were drawn to it as the man set the suitcase down on one of the steps, and with two sharp clicks, it was open.
Inside of the suitcase was more cash than Izuku had ever laid eyes upon. An amount of cash Izuku was sure would take him at least a day to count.
His next words were something Izuku didn’t expect.
“Would you like to play a game with me?”