Chapter 1: Loss
"Hello all, I thank and welcome you as we honor and mourn the life of one who was taken from us far too soon. Inko Midoriya was a good and generous woman…"
The words that the pastor spoke swam and faded as Izuku's ears began to ring. This was really happening. He was really here sitting amongst people he hadn't seen since he was a child and listening to the pastor of the church that they used to attend speak kind and encouraging words about his mother.
His mother…
Flashes started filling his mind of the accident. Blood…sirens…red and blue lights…
Looking back now, it all seemed like one big blur, but at the time it felt like an eternity. Izuku could've spent hours or mere minutes staring at the unmoving form of his mother until he was forced away by some paramedics who insisted on checking on him even though he was fine. Physically at least.
It had been a week and the images stayed painted on the back of Izuku's eyelids. Anytime he tried to sleep all he got were nightmares. Any downtime he took was filled with unwanted memories and guilt. And heaven forbid he try to look in a mirror, Izuku doubted that he would be able to see himself and not break down at how much he looked like his mother anytime soon.
Such a short amount of time, yet it felt like centuries of agony.
Muffled voices sounded around Izuku, and he could vaguely see people standing up around him, but he wasn't paying attention enough to realize why. Dazed he slowly let himself drift, the pain, the voices, the memories, all of it falling away until a heavy hand landed on his back and jolted him back to reality.
"Your mother was a good woman; I am truly sorry Midoriya."
Please don't touch me.
The only response he could manage was a slight nod. He knew that if he tried to talk his voice would crack and if he looked at the man beside him then the tears that were pooling in his eyes would fall.
Weak. Useless. Crybaby. Coward.
Izuku refused to cry in front of all of these people that he barely knew. Most of his life it was just him and his mom. Not much of anyone around, no friends, no family, no dad… But now that she's dead suddenly all of these people care.
Not when his father left her, and she was on the brink. Not when she was struggling with working two to three jobs at a time to try to support herself and Izuku. Not when Izuku was diagnosed quirkless and both of their lives shifted drastically. Not when the kids at school tormented and tortured him every day just because he wasn't like them.
It's funny how much people care when you're dead. It's like that old saying, 'You never know what you have until it's gone'. Izuku knew.
He knew exactly how blessed he was to have a mom that loved and cared for him and did everything in her power to prove that to him every day. He was fully aware of what an amazing person his mother was, and he made sure she knew it.
Izuku knew, he had lost so much in his life that he knew when to hold on and appreciate what he had. So why was this happening to him? How could life be so cruel as to take away the one good thing he had in this god-forsaken world? It wasn't fair.
The feeling in his chest was unlike anything he had every felt before. It was clawing at him, digging under the skin and raking down destroying everything in its path. It dragged it's sharp claws up to Izuku's throat and latched on tight, slowly suffocating as the world closed in around him.
No! No-please no.
Not here, not now-
Midoriya couldn't breathe. His vison blurred and he gripped the edge of his chair as he tried desperately to suck in whatever air he could. Pulsing pain erupted in his skull threatening to break it apart and he could feel his limbs shaking.
This wasn't new to Izuku, he had experienced attacks like this before, but the pain that enveloped him was like crashing waves dragging him back under every time his head got above the water.
Breath. Just breath. In and out…come on Izuku, it's not that hard!
He leaned forward and put his head in between his legs to try and control his breathing. He needed an anchor. Something to ground him, but his anchor was gone. She was ripped away from him and he would never get her back. How was he supposed to go on like this?
The spiraling continued and he tried to hold back his sobs until it was physically painful, until his throat burnt with the strain and his head got dizzy. He couldn't break down like this, not here. Further and further down he sunk until he was jolted back to the surface by another pat on the back that caused him to flinch.
"Are you okay honey?" The voice was soft and light like a summer day, but he could hear the undertones of the storm coming. The sympathy and hesitation that came with these kinds of things.
Once Izuku felt like he could look around without throwing up or passing out, he met the eyes of whoever decided to give their condolences next. It was Ms. Chiba the shopkeeper at mom's favorite flower store. She would go there at least every other week and bring home different flowers to brighten up the apartment. She always spoke highly of Ms. Chiba; she would say that she was a sweet old woman who would give her the best deals.
"Oh, hi Ms. Chiba," His voice came out in a whimper as he stood up. He wished that his body wouldn't give away such weakness, but his mother wore her emotions on her sleeve and the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. "Yeah, I uh-"
Before he could even finish whatever excuse was about to come out of his mouth the little old lady wrapped her arms around him tightly. The action made Izuku freeze, he wasn't very comfortable with affection like this-or physical contact in general-but he knew that this would be inevitable, so he tried his best to prepare himself. Guess he didn't do as well as he thought he did.
Please don't. I don't like being touched-
But she's so nice. She won't hurt me.
Please let go…
Ms. Chiba sniffled in his ear and rubbed his back, "I know honey, you don't have to be okay. But it'll get better, I promise."
How could she know that? She didn't know what happened or how he was feeling. She didn't know the nightmare he was about to go home to, or wherever he was going to end up.
Empty promises. Izuku hated them.
The old lady was still holding onto him until he managed to wiggle out of her embrace as nicely as possible. He really did not want people to touch him right now.
He bade her a goodbye and looked for an opportunity to slip out. This whole thing was a wreck and painful and all he really wanted to do was go home. Maybe it was pity or simple lack of caring, but he managed to leave without any interference and made his way back to his apartment.
The walk back was a somber one. All Izuku could think about was how he was being forced to leave his home, the place where he grew up, the place where mom used to be. He knew that it was necessary somewhere in his mind, but the feelings of bitterness overwhelmed any sensible thought that he might have had.
He was going to be staying in an orphanage for the time being, so he needed to go to his apartment to gather his things to take with him as that the rest of the stuff could be put into storage until he was old enough to access them.
As he got closer to the building his memories started spilling over the wall he desperately tried to keep up. Moments of his childhood, mom, growing up, laughing, crying, all things he wasn't ready to leave behind.
He tried to commit as much of this place as he could to memory; the squeaky stairs and almost always out-of-order elevator, the way that the deadbolt always stuck when they tried to unlock the door, the smell of lavender and cookies that was constantly in the air due to his mother's joint love of plants and cooking, the dent on the hallway doorframe from the time that Izuku slipped and bumped his head and ended up having to get three stitches, the warm light that always poured throughout the house because mom loved the natural glow of the sun.
All of these things began to turn sour somehow. Maybe it was because he knew that nothing would ever be like this again, or because he knew that this was the last time he would be seeing the apartment like this, so full of life, but as he looked longer he could see it slowly fading as reality settled in and his eyes pricked with tears before he shook away those thoughts and went to his room to pack up what he could.
It didn't take Izuku long to gather what he wanted; he couldn't bring himself to bring much more than just the necessities. Clothes and such, his laptop and phone, a couple books, the blanket that his mom made him two Christmases ago, and whatever pictures of her he could.
The decision to take any hero merch was a difficult one. On one hand heroes were everything to Izuku, ever since he got diagnosed as quirkless they've been his lifeline to his dream. He became obsessed with them, chasing after all of the fights he could, studying and analyzing all he could about their quirks and fighting styles, and buying as much merch as he could to support them.
His favorite hero, All Might, had the most presence in his room. He was his hero, his inspiration, but all of a sudden it didn't seem as important.
Mom had always been supportive, even since the beginning. She was there when the news broke and Izuku argued for hours about how he couldn't be quirkless because he didn't have the extra toe joint, and when he finally excepted it but still pressed on with his dreams of being a hero.
It scared her of course, but she must've loved him more than she feared his dreams because she was right there with him every step of the way.
Finally, Izuku made up his mind. He wasn't going to take any hero merch with him, but he was going to keep it and have it stored away. That way he would still have access to it if he wanted.
The orphanage was…something.
The building itself was old and overgrown with vines and greenery, although some people liked that look so Izuku didn't pay much attention to the outside. The inside was nice, sort of. It was a little cramped and cluttered, but that was to be expected when a lot of kids lived in the same place.
Izuku went to his room so that he could put his stuff away and found that he was rooming with another boy.
He was about his age and a little on the meatier side but considering that Izuku was all skin and bones he didn't think that he was a very good judge. The boy's name was Hiroto and from what little he spoke to him and the constant glaring, it was clear that he wasn't too thrilled about getting a roommate.
It didn't take long for Izuku to put his things away and by the time he finished the bell for dinner sounded and the two boys made their way to the dining hall.
Hiroto didn't say anything as they walked, just occasionally scowled when he remembered he was being followed. When they got downstairs the boy hurried away and joined up with what Izuku assumed to be his friends.
Standing in the crowed dining hall, it was much clearer just how overfilled this house was with children.
They all went through a line to get a plate and made their way to the four large tables to eat. Once everyone got their dinner, they gave thanks and dug in. The food was bland and not all that much to eat, but Izuku wasn't about to complain. He ended up sitting by himself, despite how overcrowded all of the tables were and as he was halfway through his plate a shadow fell over him.
He looked up and met the eyes of his smirking roommate and a few of his friends.
Oh no. Maybe this time will be different, not everyone is like Kacchan right?
"Hey newbie, are you gonna eat that?" Hiroto asked in a gruff voice.
Izuku looked up at him and then back to his fork that was halfway to his full mouth.
Hiroto's smirk twitched, and he slammed his hand on the table making some of the food on his plate splatter off of it. "I said," he leaned closer, "Are you gonna eat that?"
His little group of friends behind him snickered as Izuku swallowed down the last of what he was chewing. "Um, yes?"
"Wrong answer." Hiroto snatched his plate and turned back to his friends who were now full on laughing.
"Hey!" Izuku stood up, "That's my-" His words got cut off by his plate smacking against his face and exploding into his hair and on his clothes.
This sent the group into fits of gasping laughter and snorts as Hiroto set the plate down and let out a small insincere "Oops." They walked away still laughing and talking about what happened and suddenly Izuku wasn't hungry anymore.
He decided to leave dinner early to go shower and get the food out of his hair. When he got back to his room Hiroto was there going through some of his stuff.
"What are you doing?" The boy froze and Izuku saw what was in his hand. His temper rose and his face got hot with anger, "Put that down." The words were low and nonnegotiable as they left his mouth.
All he saw was this kid holding a picture of his mother and his thoughts ran wild with all of the things that he might do to disrespect her and Izuku was not going to let that happen.
"What did you just say to me?" Hiroto turned his head to scowl at him full on.
Deep breaths. Deep breaths Izuku. Don't give him another reason to hate you.
After another moment Izuku finally answered, this time his voice much lighter. "I just-please don't touch those. They're very important to me."
"Oh, a momma's boy, are you?" The smile on his roommate's face was ugly and alarming. He had way too much experience with smiles like that, but he was too slow to stop it. Hiroto looked him straight in the eye as he tore the photo of him and his mom from top to bottom and flung the pieces to the ground.
"Stop it!" Izuku ran over to try to stop him from ripping up anymore pictures, but that was a mistake, and he knew it. Hiroto grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and slammed him against the wall as his fists shifted into what looked like rocks and it spread halfway up his arms.
Izuku cried out and felt his feet dangle beneath him, but Hiroto just laughed. "Make me! You can't just come here and expect to be respected; you have to earn that respect. So, show me what you got shrimpy!"
When he didn't do anything, the boy just slammed him into the wall again, harder this time.
"I said make me! Or are you too much of a wimp to do anything?" It soon became clear that he wasn't going to get anything out of this so after a few more moments Hiroto threw Izuku to the grown and scoffed as he walked away. "Such a loser."
It took some time, but Izuku finally found a place that no one really seemed to go near-an old janitor's closet-closed the door and sunk down as he began to let out his feelings for the day. He thought he probably spent an hour in there crying before he finally left and went to bed without another word to anyone or anything.
Mom, please…I don't think I can do this.
I wish that you were here…