Chapter Text
Providence Whispers - Chapter 1 - Pilot
Izuku Midoriya walks underneath a loud highway, his old, scuffed shoes scraping softly against the pavement.
Today has been a rough day.
He thinks, as he clutches his backpack tighter when passing by the darker areas of the busy city. Izuku’s fluffy green hair bounces softly with each step, as he keeps his stride quick and his shoulders tense. The boy looks around warily, making sure no one is following him home.
Walking into the apartment building, Izuku lowers his gaze when routinely heading for the elevator, only to be interrupted by the doorman stepping right in front of him. Green eyes meet the doorman's sharp gaze. The man is dressed in a soft red jacket, but his stature is intimidating. With no words, the man points to the sign right by the elevator.
OUT OF ORDER
The green eyes dull slightly, but accept their fate of trudging up the stairs with a simple nod and light bow. After the wordless exchange, Izuku hastily leaves and hauls himself up the stairs to his second-floor apartment. He approaches his apartment door, number 45, and drops his keys on his first attempt of unlocking the door.
This is getting out of hand now.
Izuku thinks to himself, and the unintentional joke is both comforting and irritating. Finally unlocking the door, he steps inside his cozy and small apartment. His mother is not home, which can be told by the absence of her work bag hanging on her kitchen table chair. Izuku’s back is sore from being pushed onto concrete, so he takes off his red backpack and heads to his room.
Letting out a tired sigh, the boy enters his room. The walls are covered with bright hero merch and decorated with shelves full of memorabilia. The boy changed out of his school clothes, and into black sweatpants and a light green t-shirt with white lettering in the front- which says ‘listen little listener’. Settling on the roller chair at his desk, Izuku logs onto his laptop. He checks the replies on his most recent comment ranting about quirkiness discrimination, and is surprised to see he actually gained two new replies. One says that he should just stop being a ‘useless baby’ and to ‘go cry about it’. However, the other one is more strange.
‘Comfort in tribulation can only be achieved through faith.’
Attached to the comment is a link labeled ‘www.catholic.com’. Izuku’s first action is an immediate roll of his eyes. He’s always considered Gods as pointless; because wouldn’t they have answered his desperate prayers? Thinking the comment as redundant, he closes out of the tab and disregards it.
The next few hours entail him speeding through homework, deliberately marking some questions incorrectly.
“How could a quirkless freak get this grade? He cheated!”
“Young man, you have disrespected the school with your actions. You will be reprimanded with a month of detention and permanent marks on record.”
The teacher wears a cold smile, fully aware of the power she has over him. Her tone is calm but sickening, and Izuku can tell she enjoys this.
Finishing his homework quickly (it’s easy for him even if his grades don’t show it), the boy then spends the rest of his time catching up on the latest hero fights. Recently, his analysis has taken a little turn, as instead of focusing on just the heroes, he centers his attention on the villains.
The sun quickly disappears in his hyperfixation. When Izuku next glances outside, the moon stares back. Sighing, he leans back in his chair, the notebook on his desk now five more pages filled. Standing, his body aches from sitting so long, and his stomach protests with nausea from not eating. Throwing on his slippers, the boy walks to the kitchen.
Still no sign of Inko.
Izuku notes with dull recognition, as her presence has turned more into simple ‘visits’ to their home. He rarely sees her. Walking to the fridge, the boy grabs some cheese, milk, and pasta. Throwing water in a pot, he begins the process of making a simple dinner. Not caring to wait for the water to boil, he throws the pasta in the pot. Starting a kettle for some tea, Izuku turns to look outside the kitchen window for a break in routine. To his shock, he’s met with eyes staring at him from the apartment over.
A man, nursing a cup of dark coffee, looks back at the boy with a slightly unnerving gaze. His long black hair reaches past his shoulders, and wears simple clothes, as if just now relaxing after a long day. Slowly, the man raises his cup back to his mouth and takes a sip, refusing to break their staring contest.
Izuku goes still, suddenly feeling exposed in his own home. He tilts his head, feeling nervous while being observed. He can tell the man’s eyes are more tired than others, and assumes it could be from his quirk. Before even realizing, the boy's mind seeps back into analyzing mode, noticing his fit form and intense, intelligent gaze.
The sound of the kettle breaks the boy out of the contest. Glancing to the stove, Izuku tries to ignore the man, pouring his hot tea into a green mug bought by Inko for his eighth birthday. When he looks back to the window, the man is gone. Letting out a relieved breath, Izuku goes back to the familiar motions of making pasta for one. The meal goes by normally, the cheese pasta making Izuku’s stomach stop screaming.
Inko’s chair remains untouched, and he misses her. She used to laugh, tell jokes, and it would brighten Izuku’s life. She practically disappeared when she became supervisor for the local hospital. She didn't tell jokes anymore, and she isn't the brightest part of Izuku’s days, but he knew that she was busy.
Sometimes, when he would come home from school, he would find the fridge restocked along with sticky notes leaving messages with a small heart.
Standing up from his dirty plate, Izuku makes quick work of cleaning plates and settling everything back into its place. Before leaving the kitchen, he spares one last glance toward the window, wondering about the strange man. The boy then retreats to his room to get ready for bed.
I wonder what that man’s job is. Something with long hours, he seemed tired… is it physically or mentally challenging? Probably physical, because…
In his thoughts, something stands out and surprises Izuku.
I want to read the link from the comment.
The thought feels out of place.
It lingers anyway.
Standing still for a moment in his room, Izuku finds himself moving back to his computer. He searches for the comment, re-reading it from a different perspective.
I don’t buy it…
Izuku reads through the link again, not really believing everything, but something about it is interesting. He reads for a while, until his eyes droop from tiredness. The ideas of love, compassion, and being wanted are unheard of in his life.
These are so foreign, and something he always thought of as a sick joke, but… it appealed to him.
The boy stands, brushes his teeth, and promptly passes out in bed. The idea of a God whispers in his mind, and he falls asleep to a quiet comfort that maybe somebody does love him.