Chapter Text
Midoriya Izuku was 2 when his dad left. According to his mama, at least. He had a fuzzy memory of fire tricks, of giggling, of burnt hands and bandages and crying.
Midoriya Izuku was 4 when he was diagnosed as quirkless. Told by the doctors that he would never be a hero, never fulfill his dream.
Midoriya Izuku was 6 when his mama didn’t come home.
He remembered walking home from school, returning to an empty house. That was okay, his mama was busy at work making sure he was fed and clothed and loved. Izuku knew how to make himself dinner if she needed to stay late.
She was staying really late that night, though.
Izuku made himself dinner—simple rice with miso soup, something his mama taught him and that he’d since made a bajillion times. He set aside extra for his mama—she’d be hungry when she got home.
He started to get a little worried when she didn’t come home for bedtime, but that was okay! Mama was always there when he woke up, if she came home from the hospital really, extra late. Like tonight!
His mama wasn’t home when he woke up.
Izuku got ready for school all by himself, packing his own bento and locking the door behind him before walking to school alone.
The day continued like it would normally; Kacchan threatens him with death at the front gates, they go to class, Kacchan threatens him with death at lunch, they go back to class, Kacchan threatens him with death and nearly follows through at the front gates, they go home.
The door was locked when he tried to open it; that was weird. Maybe mama was out getting groceries. Good thing Izuku had his key!
Stepping inside, he made sure to take off his shoes before walking further inside. He made his way to the kitchen to grab himself a snack—one of Kacchan’s friends had taken his lunch that day.
A bowl of rice and a bowl of miso soup sat on the counter, utterly cold.
Maybe his mama didn’t see it when she got home, or had already gotten something for herself to eat. She could’ve been in a rush, going out to get the shopping done. Yeah, that’s why she hadn’t eaten the food he made. She was fine, she could feed herself. It’s fine. It’s okay.
Izuku backed out of the kitchen, slowly turning and walking to his bedroom. Hundreds of All Mights looked at him; it was fine, All Might was there. Izuku would be fine. Right?
His mama didn’t come home for dinner.
He walked around the house a bit—four loops—before getting bored. Going to his room, he grabbed a fresh coloring book—filled with pro heroes—and a set of markers, settling himself at the table and beginning to color.
It was getting dark when he heard a knock on the door, followed by hushed voices. His head jerked up, eyes wide—that… wasn’t mama. His mama wouldn’t knock.
Jumping up from the ground, Izuku scrambled to pick up his coloring supplies, as well as his shoes and backpack. Don’t let them know there’s a kid alone in the apartment; that’s what his mama taught him. He ran to the office, opening the closet and closing it quietly behind him, burrowing behind a stack of towels.
The sound of a key turning in a lock rang through the near-silent apartment. They had mama’s key? That wasn’t good.
The voices traveled into the main room, joined by footsteps. It sounded like they were trying to be quiet, but weren’t used to small spaces.
“—still cold,” came a murmur from somewhere—nearby. Izuku froze, pressing his hands to his mouth; oh no, no no no that wasn’t good. Nearby meant that they could hear him if he made any noise.
“And we know a child has lived here, based on that bedroom.”
Oh no. The strangers knew Izuku was here. No no no bad bad bad. Something still cold—he left a glass of juice out, didn’t he?
“—wait for backup. Then we can search more thoroughly,” one of the strangers continued. “We found that stash of money; could be more.”
Suddenly, the footsteps retreated. Izuku heard the front door open and close, and he was alone.
Quietly, quieter than he’d ever been, he crept out of the closet, still clutching his things.
Peeking around each corner, making sure no one else was inside, Izuku sped to his room, opening his yellow backpack and shoving clothes inside. He grabbed the closest warm layer—a bronze age All Might hoodie—and threw it on.
Next, he crawled under his bed, depositing the coloring books—they wouldn’t fit easily in his backpack, and he could always come back for them—grabbing his allowance money instead.
There were tears in his eyes at that point; he didn’t know what he was doing, or even really why. There were strangers who had his mama’s house key, and they knew that he was around somewhere, and they were coming back to search the apartment better.
A little sniffling and blurry eyes didn’t stop him from grabbing handfuls of snacks from the kitchen, however. The kind of stuff that didn’t need to go in the fridge; granola bars, mostly, along with a box of crackers.
What else, what else did he need… What he’d gathered didn’t feel like it was quite enough. A sewing kit? Mama had a sewing kit, surely she wouldn’t mind if he borrowed it. He could learn.
Pushing open the door to mama’s room, Izuku quickly located the sewing kit, picking it up and putting it in the backpack. He looked around for anything else potentially useful in the room, eyes landing on the window.
The window. The window would have a fire escape. Izuku could do that, he knew how to safely get on and off of the fire escape.
“Good plan,” he murmured to himself. He hurried towards the window, unlatching and pushing it up before lifting a leg over the edge. He carefully lowered himself to the metal of the fire escape, managing to close the window behind him.
After putting his shoes on, Izuku made his way down to the alleyway as quickly and quietly as he could, taking care to step lightly so his feet didn’t clang against the metal grate. He could feel his heart beating in his chest, and part of his mind worried that someone else might hear it, too.
He jumped down when he reached the bottom, freezing at the sound of his feet hitting the ground. Glancing around, a spike of fear shot through him at the sight of two figures standing at the opening of the alley. Police, he thought. They’re looking for me. Some part of his brain told him that they would help him, but he wasn’t so sure.
Before he knew it, Izuku was running, little feet in red shoes tapping across the pavement as he dashed deeper into the alley.
(Sansa’s ears twitched as they picked up a quiet noise. Glancing over his shoulder, he caught a flash of red before it disappeared behind the building they were standing outside of. He kept his gaze on that point for a moment, pupils dilating slightly, but when nothing else caught his attention he turned back around.)
Izuku let himself stumble to a stop when he rounded his second corner. He glanced back the way he came, relieved when he saw no one chasing him. He leaned against a wall as he caught his breath, panting heavily.
Once recovered, Izuku checked out the spot he’d ended up in. The opposite end opened up into what looked like an abandoned parking lot, and the alley itself was filled with cardboard boxes, garbage bags, and a couple of dumpsters.
Behind one of those could be a good place to sleep, he found himself thinking. The thought transitioned into anxiety-riddled giddiness; this was his first time sleeping outside! He’d slept over at Kacchan’s house, obviously, but mama hadn’t taken him camping yet. The smile dropped from his face as quickly as it had appeared. Don’t think about mama, he pleaded to himself. I—I’ll go home tomorrow, to see if she’s back!
Shaking his head to clear it, Izuku shuffled behind one of the dumpsters, managing to shift it just enough to sit, lay down, and set his backpack down. He curled himself into a ball, hugging his knees to his chest as he glanced up at the darkening sky.
I want to go home. The thought clung to the edges of his mind like sticky candy that he couldn’t wash off. He sniffled, eyes welling up with tears. He scrubbed at his face with his arm and tried to push down the homesickness, but the more he tried the more his throat ached, and he couldn’t help but let a quiet sob escape. Shoving his face into his knees in an attempt to muffle himself, Izuku cried himself to sleep, propped against the wall behind the dumpster.