IZUKU POV
It had been ten years since that night but I can still remember everything that had happened as if it was still happening. A lot has happened since then. A week after that incident we went to see a doctor I got tested and it turns out it was my quirk manifesting. What should have been a happy moment for me was a moment of pain. My quirk is Traumatize. When activated I can see orbs floating around a person. Each orb has a different color and that color deems how bad the memory is. The order from least to most traumatizing is yellow, blue, purple, red, and black. After I touch an orb that person and anyone touching me is sent into that memory and they are forced to relive that experience. I can also change how the experience is remembered, but I can only make it worse. On that car ride home I asked my mom who the other girl was with dad and why she told him to get out. It turns out my dad was having an affair. He wasn't gone because of work overseas he was kicked out and never returned. My world had been crushed a second time. I wish I had stayed quirkless.
Over the next seven years mom and I hardly spoke. Meals were quiet and most of the time we just spent in our rooms. During those six years I kept on living as if I was quirkless. Only a few people knew I had a quirk. Everyday I was harassed and bullied and everynight I was tormented by my thoughts as I cried myself to sleep. Nothing seemed right. When I started middle school things got worse. I was depressed and the voices never stopped. One night I couldn't sleep. All I could hear is voices telling me to give up, you're nothing but a quirkless loser, maybe next life you'll have a quirk, you can't be a hero. I was so upset that I punched my mirror. The glass shattered as it cut my knuckles. As the blood dripped off my hand I was at peace the voices were silent. I quickly cleaned the glass up and bandaged my hand. Finally some peace and quiet.
A few weeks after that incident my mom was sent to a mental hospital. She was deemed unstable from living in fear of reliving the worst parts of her life. Who wouldn't go crazy with that on their mind. Mitsuki Bakugo was appointed as my legal guardian after my mom left. Luckily I was still able to stay at my mom's apartment. I spent the next year living alone with my thoughts day in and day out. The voices would never stop unless I took a blade to my wrist or drank. My life didn't seem to have much purpose. What kind of twelve year old kid spends each night cutting and drinking. Even though my life spelt like I was going nowhere I still wanted to be a hero that could help people from going down the same path as me.
As much as I didn't want to do it I spent my first year of middle school learning about my quirk at home. I wanted to have control over it so I never hurt anyone again. After a few weeks I learned that I didn't just select a random memory when touching an orb. After I was familiar with a memory the orb would have a description over it. After a few months all my orbs had descriptions saying what they were. Surprisingly this brought comfort to me.
While at school I tried to just tune everything out while putting on a happy face. I would put in my headphones and just fade away into music. It calmed me. I could just listen to the beats and the voices would be drowned out. Before I knew it music became a key part of my life. I would go home and research for hours how to make beats and what type of equipment I would need. I hoped this would help turn some things around. After six months of saving from my weekly allowance that would be sent to me I was able to get a soundboard that had a little keyboard attachment. I was happy again for the first time in years. I spent weeks straight messing with it and trying to make beats that I started to sleep less and less. Soon I could barely stay awake during class and one day I fell passed out in class due to lack of sleep. The next thing I knew I was in the nurse's office having auntie Mitsuki staring at me. Despite her tone she wasn't mad she was sad and disappointed. I was expecting a lecture but she just looked at me and apologized. I was confused until I saw her look at my arms. "Shit…" the underside of both my forearms were covered with cuts and some scars. The nurse left to give us some time to talk. I'm sure she went to tell my teacher and the principal but they wouldn't care, as far as they knew I was a quirkless kid with no future. Auntie Mitsuki spent the next hour asking questions and trying to convince me to come stay with them. Most of them were answered with my silence. After some time we came to an agreement that I could stay on my own but she would come check on me weekly and I'd have to go to therapy for the rest of the year. I begged auntie Mitsuki to not tell Bakugo about this. She reluctantly agreed but she would tell her husband because she needed someone to talk to about it. That night she drove me home and inspected the house. It surprised her how clean it was. There were only a few dirty dishes and the living room was organized. The only thing that stood out to her was that all the pictures were lying flat or turned around. She didn't press me as to why I did that. She then inspected my room. It was a mess. The bed wasn't made and clothes were scattered everywhere. I knew I needed to clean it but what's the point it was just going to get dirty again. Before she left she noticed the sound board. I explained to her that music calmed me and that it helped me not feel alone in the house. As she was leaving she said she'd be back sometime next week. She would never tell me a day. She wanted it to be a surprise inspection so I couldn't hide anything.
The last half of the year dragged on. I went to therapy every other week. Auntie Mitsuki would come so she would have an understanding of what was going on. "As if anyone could understand what I was going through." The first week there the therapist gave me a rubber band. I was confused until he explained that anytime the voices came and I couldn't use music to quiet them to give the band a snap. He said that this is to reduce the chances of me cutting. He may have seen it that way but to me it was just a placeholder till I got home. I had to become more strategic with my cuts and do them in places that were less noticeable. Every once and awhile I was forced to have dinner at the Bakugos house. I would put on a fake smile and grit my teeth as I would snap the rubber band most the night. Luckily the year ended and I was able to get out of therapy by telling them what they wanted to hear and putting on a fake smile. "It's not like they care, I'm just a quirkless loser."