Chapter Text
“Izuku? Hey there, visiting time is almost over. You need to wake up now.”
He could hear the words being spoken, surprisingly gentle when aimed at someone like him but he was soooo tired, slumped boneless against the bed, his hand holding the cool, motionless hand of his Mummy, ‘please just let me stay’ he thought ‘just stay here, everything is easy right here’ but he knew the nurse couldn't hear him thinking at her so he managed to mumble…
“Just a little longer? Please?”
“I’m sorry, the rules are clear and I know you have to walk home. Go on, you can visit again tomorrow.”
Despite the words being almost kind, he could hear the steel hidden under them so he slowly sat up, looking at his mother. She was so still, he had to watch hard to even see her breathing. ‘Please Mummy, please be here tomorrow when I come back!’
Climbing slowly and painfully to his feet he slung his school bag across his shoulder and shuffled out of the room, pausing at the door for one long last look before making his way down the hall to the elevator. A short ride down, a few more halls traversed and he was out of the building, looking at the early evening light and low clouds that suited his mood perfectly. Drawing a deep breath of the damp air he let it all out again and started his mile-long walk home.
It gave him plenty of time to think about how much had changed in just three days. But maybe it was longer than that? After all, Mummy had been getting thinner and thinner for a long time. He could remember when she was almost round. ‘Like an apple!’ he thought to himself. ‘Apples give the softest hugs’ he grinned in his mind for a moment, ‘but she still gives great hugs now she’s so skinny, even with hard bits that poke me sometimes, I still love her hugs. I need a hug now Mummy, when will you be OK again?’
A slow tear meandered down his cheek, tickly but he didn’t bother wiping it off, he knew there would be more soon, he seemed to cry all the time now but at least he had learned to do it when no one was watching. And to cry without any sound, that was also really important. People hurt you more if they caught you crying, he could never work out why.
Yep, he was right, more tears followed the first one. He kept his eyes wide open so he could see past them, it wouldn’t do to be caught out by one of his classmates or their friends. He was already sore from earlier. ‘No more bruises today, the bruise cream is all gone now and I don’t know how to get more without any money’ he thought ‘and I don't know how to get any more food either. Mummy, what am I gunna dooooooo?’ he wailed in his mind, tears now falling faster, vision clouding despite his wide eyed gaze.
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It had all started three days ago when he woke early, well, he always woke early. Mummy called him her little alarm clock for a reason after all. But as he was up he decided to make her a mug of hot water to wake her up with, the tea had run out a few days ago and shopping wasn't until day after tomorrow but she always insisted that hot water was just as good for waking up with as proper cupp tea so he carried it down the short hall carefully and set it beside her bed with a grin.
“Mummy, good morning, I brought you a hot drink.” and he softly touched her shoulder, shaking gently. She was such a light sleeper that that was all it took to wake her, most mornings.
She didn’t wake up though so he shook a little harder, repeating “I brought your drink Mummy, wake up!”
But she still didn’t wake up, not even when he shook her quite hard and almost yelled “Mummy, WAKE UP!!! Please wake up!”
It didn’t work, nothing worked, she just lay there. He put his hand on her face but it was cool, not like how warm it should be and he could hardly feel her breath when he held his hand under her nose. And the bit on her neck that should be going *bump*bump*bump* with her pulse was also going really slow.
Now he was truly frightened. What do you do when someone doesn't wake up? He didn’t know but he knew how to find out. He went to his school laptop and quickly typed in - what to do if someone won't wake up - and got his answer.
Remain calm.
Call emergency services.
Tell them where you are.
Remain on the line until help arrives.
“OK, I can do that!” he said as he went back to the bedroom. Taking out his mum’s phone from her bag he dialed the three numbers to summon help.
Despite it feeling like forever, help actually arrived in a very short time but when it came it was unexpectedly frightening for him. Seeing them working on his mum, hearing them talking to each other about her like she was just a, a, a thing and not someone so important. Didn’t they even care? On the Doctor show he and his mum watched the people were always so kind but these ones just talked over his head and ignored him.
Why couldn’t he have some of the nice ones?
And then they lifted her onto a trolly and wheeled her out of the apartment, closing the door behind them, leaving him staring at it in confusion.
“WAIT!” he screamed, clawing the door open and rushing after them “WAIT! What about me? Where are you taking her, what do I do? What’s wrong with her, when will she be back…..”
A hand blocked him from reaching her and someone said “She’s going to the local hospital, you can visit this afternoon. We don’t know what’s wrong with her. I suggest you contact someone else in your family to come take care of you, we have to go now.” And just like that, they were gone.
‘But I don’t have any other family’ were the words that played and replayed in his mind as he made his way back to the apartment.
Despite the fear beating through his chest, he did his best to stay calm. ‘Right, what would Mummy say to do right now?’ he thought ‘She would say “Get something to eat and go to school my lovely, I will be just fine and you will see me later.” So that’s what I should do, eat and go to school.’
Looking in the fridge he saw - not much at all. His mother had lost her job not long ago, her strength just seemed to fade away over the last few months and she wasn’t able to do the hard physical work demanded by her cleaning job. And what little savings they had had were all gone now. They were getting some social assistance but this month's payment wasn’t due for three more days.
“Well!” he said aloud “What do we have?” which turned out to be three eggs, a quarter carton of milk that smelled funny, and a packet of instant ramen, fallen down the back of the cupboard. He spotted it when he actually crawled inside to make sure nothing was there.
The ramen filled him up at least so he got dressed for school and made his slow way there, mind still running in circles at top speed but never getting anywhere, it made his head hurt and his eyes burn.
“What’s wrong with you, shitty nerd?” were the first words yelled at him as he got to class, “What gives you the right to look like that? Do I need to give you a reason to cry?” which was when he realized tears were falling, breath hitching but now fear flared bright and hot, like the eyes that hit him from all sides…
Never cry, never make a noise, never complain, never draw attention, all of the things he did to try to keep safe and now he had done all of it and they were drawing near, eyes hard, fists harder. ”Please, it’s nothing, I’m sorry, it’s nothing….” the words lost all sound even when his mouth kept moving but the teacher came in then saying “Everyone, take your seats. Midoriya, I want 100 lines - I will not be late to class again. - on my desk by lunchtime or you don’t get to eat.”
He knew better than to protest, to say he wasn’t late, he just got out his paper and pencil and got busy as the class snickered and jeered at him being punished for something he hadn't done. But he knew that it had saved him from worse so he was OK with it, it was just lines, after all, he did lines all the time. He knew though that if he didn’t get it finished on time he would be made to sit in class while everyone else got to eat so he went as fast as he could. He was already sooooo hungry, the ramen packet felt like a million years ago, instead of less than an hour.
He finished on time, and did the morning assignment, carrying both up to the teachers' desk but didn’t see Katchan slip to the front of the room until he snatched the pages from his hand. The snap of the explosion that shredded them into scorched fragments made his ears ring but not so much that he didn’t hear the teacher say “I said no lunch if you didn’t finish the lines, sit down!”
‘No fair! I did them, I did them all!’ but he kept the cry inside, knowing it was no use to say it out loud. Watching the class all headed for food hurt, as did their looks and snide words, the teachers most of all. “Useless brat, do the lines again!”
Stomach achingly empty, he started the lines again. ‘Again’ he thought ‘if he said the word again then he KNEW I did the assignment the first time. Why are they always so mean? Why is quirkless so bad that they get to treat me like this? Mummy never does. And she says quirks are just a tool and no tool makes anyone better or worse than anyone else and she knows EVERYTHING ‘cause she’s Mummy and always right so why doesn't anyone else know it too?’
He sighed ‘I am sooooooooo hungry’ as he wrote line after line after line, finishing just before the class returned so at least he got the pages to the teachers' desk safely.
A pinch-faced “Hmmmf!” was the only remark as the teacher crumpled the pages up and tossed them into the trash.
The long day got longer, adding a few new bruises and a burn on his wrist where his once friend Kacchan grabbed him, tossing him to the ground and walking over him “Get out of the way useless trash!” a parting kick and they were gone, leaving him curled on the floor, gasping from the pain of the burn.
“Get out and stop wasting my time!” was almost shouted at him by the teacher which at least got him up and running.
It was a long walk to the hospital and in the wrong direction from home so an even longer walk was waiting for him later but for now at least, he was there and once he found his mummy, everything was going to be fine again. Hospitals had doctors in them and doctors were just like heroes in that they helped people. Mummy was with doctors and was going to be fine, he just knew it.
He was wrong, she wasn’t fine.
And from what they were saying, she probably wasn’t going to be fine for a long, long, time.
Sitting by her bed in the hard plastic chair he had dragged over, holding her hand, he listened to the cold words falling from the white-coated person who was speaking to him, using big words, hard words, words he didn’t understand despite knowing he was smarter than the other kids in his class.
What he could, and did, understand though was that they were poor, and being poor meant no one with a quirk that could help was available to help his mother. And no one else knew what was wrong with her, it was like she was just burning out, slowly, like a fire with no more wood to put on.
They would watch her, he was told. She had IV drips and a tube down into her like on the Vet show they both loved to watch - the vet had indigo hair and pale blue skin and her love of animals made her show a must-see in his house - and that was all they could do for her. Wait and see.
“You can visit every day between 1700 and 1900.” and that was it, he was alone in the room with his Mummy, watching the day draw to a close, hunger clenching in his guts, crying silent tears until a nurse came to tell him it was time to go.
“I’ll be back tomorrow Mummy, please get better” he whispered before starting the long, long walk home.
It was well past 2000 by the time he got back to the apartment and by then he was dizzy, dropping his bag by the door and staggering into the kitchen. Flicking the light switch didn’t do anything other than make a clicking noise, no light came on. He opened the fridge but there was no light there either. Or in the other rooms when he went to check. The power was out, ‘Guess the bill people got tired of waiting, maybe?’ he wondered.
Back in the kitchen, the milk that had smelled funny that morning tasted even weirder when he drank it, lumpy and sour, but it filled some of the emptiness so he chugged it down, even putting some water in the carton to swish ‘round and drinking that too. Like his mother did with sauces and things, to get every drop of goodness out.
That left the eggs. ‘Can you eat raw eggs?’ he thought ‘My laptop is dead and I can’t charge it now but I know some people put them in drinks and things so I guess it’s alright?’
He got them out of the now warm fridge, cracking them into a bowl and picking the bits of shell out from when he hit the first egg too hard.
Looking at them he wrinkled his nose a bit but he was so, so hungry. After looking at them for a long time he finally lifted the bowl to his lips and sucked them down. ‘Oh, those are pretty good! A bit slimy but they tasted better than the milk did. I wish I had more.’
It was now so dark in the apartment only knowing it so well prevented him from hurting himself going to the bathroom where he brushed his teeth - the minty flavor of the toothpaste taking the rotten milk taste away at last - and got into bed. Maybe tomorrow would be better? Surely Mummy would be all better by then.
‘Please’ he prayed, not even knowing who he was praying to ‘please let her be all better tomorrow!” Sleep took him away at last into peaceful dreams where there was always enough to eat, it was always warm and his Mummy loved him.
He woke with a big sleepy smile, thinking of how lovely it had all been but the smile fell away as the memory of yesterday came back to him. Sighing he dragged himself out of his warm bed into the chill of his room, dressing himself quickly and going to check the kitchen again for anything, anything at all that could be eaten.
Nothing.
Checking his mother's room for any money that he could buy food with.
Nothing there either.
Making his way to school at last, vowing to make it to lunch today as it was his only chance to eat.
He managed that at least. He even managed to get to a table with his tray, snapping his chopsticks apart and rolling his eyes a bit as they broke wrong, leaving one with a super sharp end. ‘Argh, I hate it when they do that!’ he thought as he started eating as fast as he could, knowing that someone might snatch his food away and needing to get it inside him so he would stop hurting.
Not enough bites later someone did reach for his tray, “Oy, you don’t deserve this!” they yelled but for once he didn’t shrink back, hunger had him grabbing his tray, stopping them from snatching it away from him.
They jerked it harder and something inside him said ‘NO!!! This is MINE, I need it!’ But when he pulled back more they reached and got his tray with both their hands and he knew they were stronger than him, they were going to get his food, he was going to lose it so he did the only thing he could think of. With a strength born of desperation, he turned the sharp chopstick around in his hand and brought it down on one of the hands pulling his tray away from him.
Not just down onto it but right through it. Stabbing right through the back of the hand and out the palm, the kid let go at last, falling back from the table and starting to scream. Most of the other kids watching joined in, teachers running from all directions.
Izuku took the chance to grab his tray, running to get clear of the pandemonium, bolting his food so fast he didn’t even have a chance to chew it. He knew he was in so much trouble but ‘At least I can make it worth it by eating’ and he managed to get the last bite down before he heard “Midoriya did it Sensei, THERE he is!” and dozens of fingers pointed to him and his teacher rushing to grab him, dragging him to the principal's office.
He was sent home, well, after they all spent over an hour yelling at him, never letting him speak. Every time he tried they just got louder so he gave up, kept his head bowed, waiting it out before being told to get out and never do it again or he would be kicked out of school forever and die homeless and useless on the streets.
He was too early for visiting hours so had to sit outside and wait. That was OK though, he loved people watching, he and his mother spent many happy hours doing just that so he pretended she was with him, talking to her as if she was right there, pointing out interesting people and clothes and different mutations he could see. Unlike in school where every minute dragged by like hours the time passed quickly and suddenly, there he was, asleep leaning on his mothers' bed, being told it was time to go away again.
‘Please mummy, please be here tomorrow when I come back!’
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When he finally got into the apartment his legs were shaking with tiredness and there was no water. ‘No lights, now no water, wonder what'll go next?’
Hunger was still a problem but now thirst reared its head. He went to the bathroom, lifted the lid of the toilet, and watched as his pee turned the clear water yellow. Reaching for the lever to flush he yelped and drew his hand back as if it was burnt. “NO!” he yelled at himself.
Reaching for the cover of the cistern, he lifted it off.
And just as he knew it was going to be, it was filled with clean water. Well, he hoped it was clean as he went to get his mug and came back to dip it full. Sniffing it, it didn’t seem to smell of anything at all so he took a tiny sip. ‘Hmmmmmmm, tastes OK, should I just drink a little bit or enough so I am not thirsty anymore?’ but his body took over then and he downed the mug, dipping out another one and drinking that as well. One more and not only was his thirst gone but he felt kind of full too so with nothing else to do in the dark cold apartment, he went to bed.
“Sorry Mummy, I can’t brush my teeth tonight, maybe when you get home tomorrow the water will work again and I will brush them then. Really, I promise, if you come home I will brush them right away.” Slow tears soaked his pillow but he never felt them, falling asleep as he thought up more and more promises to make for when his mother got home, anything, anything he could think of that she might like.
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Standing outside the school that morning his head felt strange, a bit like he was floating but his stomach felt like it was filled with rocks, empty and full at the same time. Cold water for breakfast had not helped the feeling go away either but he forced himself inside, only the thought of lunch giving him enough strength to walk through the doors. ‘Maybe today will be better?’
The class went silent when he went in, every eye on him, angry eyes first and then the words started - “Freak, Useless, Quirkless, He went mad yesterday and tried to kill someone…” as he tried to make his way to his desk, head down, hunched into himself.
A hard shove snapped his head up and oh no, it was Katsuki and he was already popping off explosions, each hand, one after the other, pop pop pop pop and glaring at him, teeth just showing when he said “I heard you went crazy yesterday and hurt someone. People like you aren't allowed to hurt people. You know what I’m going to do right now?”
Shaking his head Izuku tried to retreat but his way was blocked, he was trapped with no way out.
“WELL? ANSWER ME! What do you think I’m going to do now, FREAK?”
“Please don’t hurt me Kacchan, please?”
“What did you just call me? Didn’t I tell you to never call me that? I’m going to teach you that people like you don’t get to fight back, you don’t get to talk back, you don’t get anything but what I’m going to do to you!” and he reached for Izuku, hands sparking, the smell of burning filling the air.
And everything inside Izuku that had been building up over the last year, all the fear and hurt and confusion, exploded into rage the instant his one time friend grabbed him, and instead of falling back, instead of crying out, instead of begging him not to hurt him, not again….
This time he jumped forward, everything moving in slow motion making it so easy for him when his hand grabbed Katsuki’s shirt, pulling him down as hard as he could while at the same time driving his forehead right at the face now coming towards him at high - and surprised - speed.
The collision was epic! A crack and blood splattering down Katsuki’s face from his broken nose, Izuku seeing stars and the room spinning but he drove himself against his chief bully again, this time with a knee into the belly of the now crouching boy, driving deep, bringing them to their knees retching and gagging where Izuku’s final kick into their ribs took them all the way down, sobbing and choking on their own blood.
Spinning 'round with a snarl he lunged for the two boys that had been behind him, blocking him in, hands up into claws, screaming his rage and defiance as they broke and ran….
It took two adults to subdue him, dragging him not to the principal's office this time but to the front doors of the school and throwing him out. His bookbag was hurled at his head but he dodged it at the last moment, snatching it up and running, running like he would never stop, running for the hospital where surely his Mummy would be smiling, waiting for him, ready to make everything better again.
‘No lunch today either but at least Katsuki might not go for me again for a while. That will be good at least and maybe there will be food at the hospital today? Mummy HAS to be better today. Please,’ he whispered to himself, ‘please let her be better.’
He was 6 hours early for visiting. Even his enthusiasm for people watching waned in the end so he just sat, eyes closed, the world gently spinning, drifting in his thoughts of how good it would be when his mum was all better and life was back to normal. Which was where a nurse found him, asking him to come with them, they had news about his mother for him.
Being led not to his mothers' room but instead a small office he felt the first shivers of real fear. He thought he had been afraid before but nothing like this as he looked up (and up) at the person who had risen from behind the desk.
His head already shaking denials at the words the man had just started speaking, gasping “No! No no no nononononooooooooo!” when he heard the words... “She died in the night, it was very peaceful, she didn’t feel any pain, there was nothing else anyone could do, sometimes people just die….”
Shock filled him, how could she be dead, how could she be gone, how could she leave him, didn’t she love him enough to stay, to get better? A great roaring void filled his head and heart, threatening to pull him down into a vast emptiness, his knees hit the floor, someone had a hand grasping the back of his head, another hand on his shoulder, someone was saying something but nothing made any sense.
For the second time that day, the world went slow motion as he surged back to his feet, struggling out of the hold, backing up, and gasping for air as the world speeded up to normal again, finally hearing and understanding the words the man was still saying.
“Stay here and don’t worry, Child Services will be here to collect you in a few minutes, just stay calm and breathe, it will be OK, they will take care of you…” which is when panic drove out the last of the confusion. Child Services were coming for him. His mother was dead and he was going to be taken by Child Services! He was quirkless and Child Services were coming to take him away!
He had to get away but how to get past the man who was trying to be kind, he could tell, but all he was doing was getting in the way of escaping out the door.
“P-p-please,” and he was surprised by how normal his voice sounded, “m-may I go to the r-rest r-r-room? I really n-need to g-g-go.” and it worked, it WORKED! The man said something, he didn’t even hear what it was and opened the door for him.
Walking through it he nodded at the man pointing in the direction of the loo and moved carefully past him, going down the hall, hearing the door click shut behind him, doubling back to the stairs - ‘No elevator, don’t get caught in a box, no way out’ - moving faster now but not running, running would have people looking at him, asking what was wrong, catching him!
One quick gulping breath as he went through the front doors of the hospital, slipping into the busy stream of people going in and out, losing himself in the tall bodies. Catching a glimpse of two people in the distinctive uniforms of Child Services he finally let himself speed up, starting to run as soon as he got into the first ally, going full speed by the time he exited it one street over.
‘Home! I have to get home! I’ll be safe as soon as I get home!’
Everything went to plan until he pulled his key from the string he kept around his waist - never round his neck, it was too easy to be grabbed that way - and thrusting it into the lock with a practiced motion he turned the knob, stepping forward only to run face-first into the door that had not opened, ‘Why didn’t it open?’
Holding his nose, trying to stop the bleeding, he looked up and saw a padlock on the door and with mounting horror, he heard heavy footsteps coming his way and saw their Landlord, someone even Mummy was afraid of.
“Don’t move brat, people are coming for you, just stay there! You owe me rent so everything in there” he pointed at the locked door “belongs to me now.” He finished talking and was now looming over Izuku who was still bleeding, and reached for him, making him shy back, yelping “No!”
“Aaaaaaaaw Whoa!” drawled a voice from behind him, “who’s coming for the little green bean? Is it the man , yeah?”
Izuku spun around to see his neighbor who his Mummy had said to never, NEVER, go anywhere near. “He does drugs and isn’t a safe person, so promise me if you see him you will come inside right away! Addiction is a mental illness and I wish we had a way to get him the help he needs but that doesn’t change the fact that he is dangerous, alright?” And he had promised to always stay away from the man with the slurred speech and hazy eyes.
Now though the hazy eyes were slightly clearer than normal and when the Landlord said “Shut the fuck up waster, Child Services is coming for him. Now you come HERE!” and he lunged for Izuku.
“RUN little bean! RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!” yelled his hazy eyed neighbor, “Child Services gets you, they will KILL YOU man, RUN! RUN! RUN !!! ” and Izuku ran, ran for his life as the two men clashed behind him, punching and kicking, one still screaming run run run on an endless loop.
He hit the ground, skidding on hands and knees at the bottom of the stairs, looking right up at the two he had seen at the hospital. Gasping and scrambling away he spun and bolted down the sidewalk. He knew this neighborhood like the back of his hand from years of avoiding bigger kids that wanted to hurt him, all he needed was 30 seconds head start and he would be out of reach of anyone larger than him.
‘THERE!’ he yelled to himself, ‘all I have to do is reach that ally!’ He knew that halfway down, on the right-hand side, there was a small gap between two buildings. No one else he knew was small enough to fit between them so all he had to do was keep running because now he could hear feet running after him, voices yelling for him to stop and now someone was running in from in front of him as well, trying to head him off and his heart was pounding, drenching horror filling him, only one way out…
Dodging into the road, not looking either way, he heard screams as he was halfway across, squealing brakes and the screeching of tires as he reached the curb, a world-ending sound of metal crashing into metal, glass shattering and he was almost at the ally but time was slowing down again and every part of him knew without any doubt or hesitation.
He was going to die!
Right here, right now, death was opening wide arms for him and he wasn't ready.
He didn’t want to die!
But his mother was dead, he had just caused a car crash and the people chasing him were going to kill him when they caught him and they were right behind him and everything was going soooooo slooooooooly now, he was frozen in light like that fly in amber in the museum that time with his mum, nothing was moving but now, ‘Oh my god!’ he gasped as the world started to speed up again but exploded with pain at the same time and he was falling.
Falling forwards, reaching for the ground, trying to break his fall, to keep running and now time was back to full speed and the pain was gone but he was still running on all fours, like a weird kind of dream, maybe it was all just a nightmare but he couldn't stop running because there, THERE WAS THE GAP and the screaming behind him hadn’t stopped and in he went, bolting into safety that no one else could reach into, running in this new strange way that he couldn't stop or stand up from but nothing mattered because even weird running was better than getting caught!
He ran for hours with no memory of how he had gotten to where he was now. Another ally, that was all he knew, this one choked with rubbish and blocked at one end with a rotted wooden fence. Crouching beside the wall he finally froze, letting his breath slow down, his heart start to return to normal, the fear ebbing like an outgoing tide, leaving in its wake thirst like he had never felt before.
And confusion that the world was still not back to normal, why was everything so big? Why was every noise so loud? And what was that smell? ALL those smells? Did the world always smell like this or was it linked with the new way of moving, like his legs and arms were the same length and he could stand up properly but not for long, if he wanted to move forward he had to do it on all fours.
The smell was still there. Water! ‘When did water start smelling like that? And where is it? I need it!’ His head turned slowly, sniffing the air ‘THERE!’ He saw it then, a broken pipe, high on the wall, a slick of algae and water glistening down from it like a slow-motion waterfall.
‘It must have been broken for a long time,'’ he thought as he moved to stand in front of the wall. ‘Is it safe to drink something like this? I did drink from the back of the toilet but that was clean water and this is all slimy but it smells OK and I am so thirsty!’
‘How do I do this?’ he asked himself as he tried to put his lips on the wettest part of the wall where the water was trickling down but his mouth was the wrong shape, his teeth hitting brick with a sharp click. ‘This is weird! What’s wrong with my mouth? What if I put it sideways against the wall?’ which seemed to work a bit better than trying to suck the water off. By placing the side of his mouth open against the wall and pushing gently upwards a dam of slime caused the water to flow up and over into his mouth, trickling blessed, blessed wetness into and over his tongue.
It took a long time for him to get enough to drink like that but he had the time so he just waited for enough to go into his mouth to slake his thirst. A final swallow and a deep sigh of relief and he pulled his face out of the slimy water slick, grimacing at the feel of the stuff on his face.
He reached up to wipe it off and his world view lurched again, this time though it was his hands, or not really his hands but what he could feel with them. He could feel so much more than he ever could before and as he gently felt his face with his new super sensitive fingers he felt fur. Slicked and wet with algae but without a doubt, fur!
He explored further, reaching gentle fingers for his nose but it was GONE! ‘My NOSE! Where's my nose?!?’ Breathing deeper to quell his panic he told himself ‘Stay CALM! What does Mummy say when things get scary? She says “Use your brain, use your eyes, use your ears. THINK your way through the problem. Feelings are great for many things but scary things need LOGIC!” So OK, what can I do with my brain? I can use it to control my hands and feel my nose again, that's what I can do first!’
Reaching up to his face again he felt all over his face this time. He did have a nose, he could feel it now but it was NOT his usual one, this one was small and squishy. It felt a bit like a firm jelly sweetie and was just slightly damp. It was also at the end of what felt like a muzzle, of all things.
Feeling farther his lips were soft and covered really sharp teeth and more of them than he was expecting to find as his fingers prickled against the tips of them, softly biting down.
Reaching up and back he felt what he was now almost expecting, ears. Round and set high and back on his head.
‘Now, what can my eyes see?’ he asked himself and looked down at his hands. Black! His hands were black! Soft black fingers, sharp nails, and silver fur ringing his wrists.
‘I have fur!’ He felt his arm, running his fingers through the fur, shivering at the feeling of coarse guard hairs and the softer undercoat running through his fingers. He could feel each hair, distinguish each time the fur changed in texture as he ran his hands across the top of his arm, then under his arm, then he sat back and ran his hands across his belly, marveling at the silver fur where he used to have just a pale roundish stomach and a dimpled belly button.
Spinning to look over his back he saw fur shading from silver to black. ‘Black? Or is it green?’ Black shading to green, he decided. ‘How pretty! And look at my TAIL! Ahhhhh how cool is THAT!’ He took the member in his hands, running them the full length and back, feeling the fur run with and then against the lay, fluffing and smoothing, fluffing and smoothing, it was so soothing, so calming, soooo “YAAAAAAAAWWWWWWNNNNNN” and his jaws cracked with the width and strength of his yawn.
Head drooping, his right hand lifted and braced against the wall, right in the slimy water still falling in an endless glistening stream and his entire body felt like he had shoved his finger into an electric socket! The feel, the FEEL, his entire world narrowed down to the feel of his hand in the water, lifting his other hand to join the first, the smooth slick of the algae, the cold brightness of the water, the hard hidden shapes of bricks, his hands groped across the wall, feeling the dry rough edges when he ran out of wetness, the ecstatic feel as he got back into the wet, time slipped away as, eyes closed, he played with his new and amazing toy, a wet wall.
Sitting back at last he noticed the light was fading fast now, despite still being able to see. And he was so very tired. ‘Shelter’ he thought, ‘I need shelter and then I can finish thinking this through properly. Where though?’ His eyes roamed across the ally but found nothing that might work. ‘Hmmmmmmm, I need to keep going for a while more, gotta find somewhere to get out of sight, it's not safe out in the open, the people might find me.’
Making his way to the rotted fence he found a gap, grabbing it with his clever new hands and, bracing himself, pulled it far enough to allow him to fit through. ‘This is better!’ He found himself behind the building with the water slick down the wall and on all sides were stacks of pallets and weeds and rotted timbers and garbage and even a burnt-out van.
The van had been burned out a long time ago, not even a whiff of smoke lingered as Izuku made his way over to it. Climbing inside past a sagging door he scrambled onto the remains of the dashboard. He had never been out this late before, not even with his Mummy, she always made sure to be safely locked into the apartment by dusk as the latest but this was now proper darkness, full night had finally fallen.
‘What time is it?’ he wondered, ‘Where am I now?’
‘And what do I do now? What even am I?’
‘Right! What clues do I have? I have black hands, I have silver guard hairs on most of my body, and I have a greeny black stripe down my back, oh, and my tail has greeny black stripes too. I don’t think any animal like that has green in it but MY hair was green and black so maybe that's how I’m that colour?’
‘Oh Oh Oh I know, I know what I am!!!’ He was almost dancing with excitement as he chittered out loud. ‘I’m a raccoon!!! Like on that documentary Mummy and I watched, about how raccoons got to Japan in the first place and how they are’ and here he carefully sounded out the words in his head ‘non na tiv in vas iv an im als’ repeating them with more confidence the second time, ‘non-native invasive animals and a big problem in some places.’
‘Wow! How am I a raccoon? Did someone hit me with their quirk? Am I going to change back soon? But when would someone do that? The social people wouldn't have done it ‘cause it would make me harder to catch?’
Then it hit him, the knowledge again coming to him from the hours of educational telly he and his mother had watched together. It was him! It was his OWN quirk, 4 years late and activated by, and here he carefully sounded the words out again. ‘A tra mat ic quirk ac ti va shon event,’ repeating the words again to himself. ‘I have had a traumatic quirk activation event! That is ME! I have a quirk!’
‘I have a quirk.’
He couldn’t quite believe it, no matter how many times he said it to himself, it just didn’t feel real. Nothing about this day felt real, the fight with Katsuki, being told his mother was dead, running from the social people, the car crash, his quirk, nothing was real anymore as his eyelids drooped and his head nodded, jerking up into wakefulness only to slide down again, finally falling off the dash with a soft thump. Curling up between the pedals he was soon dead to the world and slightly snoring.