Children deal in absolutes.
He sat crying at the computer for what felt like forever before his mother decided to show herself.
The little six year old turned around the swivel chair to face his mom, cheeks and eyes red even though the tears were gone. He cracked a dangerous smile, and asked his mom, "Hey, mom, if I can't become a hero, could I be a villain instead?"
His mom rushed from the doorway and collapsed in front of him, giving the small form a hug. "I... I don't know, Izuku. It's... um... possible, I guess, but I thought being a hero, a person who saves people instead of hurting them like a villain was your goal. Why do you want to change it?"
"Mom," He suddenly pushed her away, and she fell onto the floor, surprised at his sudden strength. "You don't think I can?"
"No, honey, that's not-"
"You are! You are you are! You're just like that doctor and the kids at school! Mocking me, hurting me, telling me I won't ever do anything right! I wish you'd all just DIE!" He was yelling now, and she stood frightened of her son and his sudden change. "You guys are mean and rude even though you say you're just doing what's best for me or that you're on my side or you want to be a hero! You people are the real bad guys! Bad guys need to die! I should get rid of you people! All of you! All you so called good guys who just hurt me! You should all just DIE!"
She scrambled out of the room, locking her son's door behind her as he continued to yell. She pulled over a heavy bookshelf and leaned it against his door, then pulled out her phone. She moved over to the front door, away from Izuku; debating whether this would be something she should call the police for.
She was so lost in thought that she didn't notice Izuku's yelling had stopped.
If she had, she might've been able to avoid what came next.
He finally stopped screaming, though he continued to rage in his head. He remembered something his mom told him once, that if he ever needed to get out of his room for a fire, they were one the first floor, and so he could crawl out a window. He had heard his mom lock the door and put something heavy in front of it, so he knew the window was his only choice.
He made his way towards it, walking around the pile of broken All Might toys he'd destroyed earlier. Once he was by the window, he checked the lock, happy to find it was, indeed unlocked. He opened it as quietly as he could, and pushed the window open just enough for him to escape. He stuck his head out of the window, gauging the distance from the window to the ground.
He pulled his head back in and went over to his bed, grabbing his All Might pillow and dragging it back to the window. He shoved the pillow out, and the quickly followed it, landing on the pillow with a soft 'oof'. Then, he made his way to the window he remembered to be his
mother's. He pulled himself into her room with very little difficulty, leaving the pillow outside so he could jump back out if needed.
He made his way to his mother's door and opened it soundlessly, creeping out so as not to let his mom know he got out of his room. He made his way to the kitchen, grabbing the rolling pin him mom kept in the bottom drawer. He skulked over to her, thankful she was looking towards the door and not the kitchen. When he was right behind her, he hit his mom on her hurt knee as hard as he could, causing her to topple over. She shrieked, and he hit her again, this time in her stomach. He remembered what he'd learned from the first aid class the school had given that hits to the head hurt a lot, so he moved around his kicking mom's legs and aimed for her head.
She smacked his arm, and he missed, hitting the back of her neck instead. She went really still, but kept breathing, so he hit her again on her skull. She made a little gaspy-wheezing sound, so he did it again, and again, and again, until she had a little mark on the back of her head. What had the teacher called those? Oh, in-dents. His mom had an in-dent in her head.
He brought the rolling pin back to the sink, getting up on his dishes-stool so he could clean it. He made sure to wipe off all the gunky grey-pink bits and red liquid, and then wiped it down with a towel. He felt too tired to put the towel back before putting the rolling pin back, so he put it in with the towel, and left the towel on the counter. Then, he trudged over to his room and pulled the books out of the bookshelf one by one, setting them next to the bookshelf but not near the growing puddle of red that came from his mom.
He moved the bookshelf back where it was supposed to be, then put the books back in where they were before. He unlocked his door, grabbed the only duffel bag he had that didn't have All Might stuff on it, and packed all the clothes without All Might stuff on them. He also picked up all the toy pieces and put them in a different bag, one with a giant picture of All Might on the front. He took these two bags to his mom's room, where he grabbed his mom's favorite black XXXL sweatshirt and stuffed it into the unmarked duffel bag. He then shoved the two bags out of his mom's open window before climbing out himself. He landed on the pillow again, and took that and the two backpacks with him along the side of the house. Before he stepped around the corner, he unzipped his clothes bag and grabbed out one of his own sweatshirts and put it on, pulling up the hood because it was chilly.
Satisfied, he pulled his clothes bag on his back again and dragged the pillow and other bag until the end of his driveway, then they got too heavy, so he left them there.
He continued to make his way around, eventually ending up at his favorite park. He sat on the swings, slowly swinging back and forth until he felt his heartbeat settle.
Getting tired, he grabbed his bag he'd set on the ground and made his way to the climbing structure, picking one of the less used crevices to sleep in. He used his bag as a pillow, and before long was fast asleep, dreaming of a world where he had powers and saved everyone.
Children deal in absolutes.
