"Shit, shit, shit, shit!"
Was all the young man could think as he stood in the dropping sunlight of late afternoon. His palms were sweaty and moist from the adrenaline rush, it was hard to breathe and he wanted to throw up. Everything from his uniform to his shoes were covered in blood and the boxcutter that was once in the dead man's hand, the same thing which ended his life, was in Izuku's.
Tears teased at the rim of his eyelids, but he fought them down as he continued to stare into the vacant, empty eyes of the man who once saw him as an easy mark. He needed to run. He needed to hide because there was no coming back from this even if it was an accident. Manslaughter in the first degree would be stamped over his file and his entire life would be over.
He would never get a job, never get an education, never get anything other than the shit hand life dealt him made even worse. First it was getting attacked by that sludge mutant, then All Might telling him to be realistic and to top off the worst day of his life, this happened.
He would have stood there wondering why he did this or mourning the dead or calling his mom in a panic to confess. But with everything that happened he didn't want to. He just wanted to run as far away from his problems as possible, so he did.
He turned from that trash filled alley in the middle of his home town, threw off his uniform coat and phone into a dumpster a few blocks away, turned his pants inside out and ran to the closest train station.
He should have been sad or ashamed or disgusted, but at that moment as he boarded the cart with the knife wrapped in his white knuckled fist with a flood of other people, Izuku couldn't find it in him to care anymore.
