It hurt.

It always hurt. No matter how hard he tried to ignore it. The impossibility of the notion that he could ignore the constant pain he was in tormented him every day of his life. Ever since he was a boy and his father went nuts with hunger and tried to kill him-

-did kill him-

-the pain had never stopped. Not even when he and his Mom managed to get a hold of his omega-V2 supply at the beginning of each month. The blood substitute the government provided with the cost of a very shiny penny was the same as trying to live off of ramen noodles and diet cola each day.

Izuku was pale, slender with the evidence of his starvation. The Minor Package was all that they could afford as the next one up, the Fixed Package, was over $600 more. Even just the MP was far too much money for his mom to be able to pay for, but it kept him alive. That was going to have to be enough until he was able to find a job that will accept his status as a vampire and allow him to work.

Always, it was the same stuff keeping him from holding a job; The boss had something against vampires. Or it was bad for business to let a vampire be the first thing a customer see's upon entrance. The customers were uncomfortable being served by a dirty bloodsucker. And the worst excuse, the one that made him cringe with embarrassment; his heightened sex appeal was too much of a distraction to the other employees.

In every case, he was a liability. Too much trouble to keep around long enough for a decent paycheck. His Mother had been stuck with the burden of having to work extra long shifts just to keep a roof over their heads and some kind of nourishment in his stomach.

Each of his monthly packages came with enough to last him through the month, or at least that was how they advertised it. Sure, Izuku didn't have a problem making it last, as long as he only drank one bag a day. As if it wasn't bad enough that omega-V2 had the nutritional value of celery and peanuts, he also wasn't able to have more than one bag a day or risk running out before the next shipment and having to go to the hospital again for an emergency transfusion.

There have been times in the past when this had happened, mostly in the earlier years of his unfortunate transformation. Of course, his father had to try and kill him-

-killed the shit out of him-

-when he was 4 and needed the most nourishment to grow. He wasn't sure if his mother would ever be able to financially recover from all the hospital bills.

It wasn't for the lack of trying though, Izuku hardly ever got to see his mother because of how often she spent working. He also did his best to help out, but with it being so hard to keep a job let alone get hired in the first place, he wasn't able to do much.

There was always prostituting his aphrodisiac, lots of lonely men and women out there had an unhealthy obsession with the way vampire venom made them feel. Sure, the human got something out of it, the pleasure his venom could give is a deep personal munificence that could put anyone on their hands and knees. As were the predatory tactics that the vampire gene used on prey. To keep them from running, or from trying to escape.

To him, it felt wrong. Ever since he was a little boy his Mom told him about how there is one person that everyone was meant to be with. One person that was created just for them, was put in the world specifically to make the other happy. Growing up he watched all kinds of movies about people who fell in love, and to him, it looked like a beautiful, painful, emotion that he wanted more than anything to have with someone one day. Biting a human simply to take blood with the mutual agreement that he would give them a high in exchange for nourishment felt incredibly disrespectful to his baser nature. The part of him that was stronger than the hunger and more profound than the desire to feed.

He continued to ignore the people around him as he rode the quiet but long ride home from the grocery store, paying attention only to the notebook in front of him as he studied for his next test.

His mother had left a note and some money on the kitchen counter that morning asking him to make a run to the store to grab some groceries for the next couple of days for her. So he had left the house after finishing his school work, but that note was the only interaction with his Mom he'd had that day. He missed her most days, hardly ever seeing her was extremely hard. How ironic was it that she worked so hard to support the child that she loved more than anything, and yet she rarely got to see him?

There just weren't enough hours in the day.

Izuku knew it the moment that he was approaching his stop. Not because he looked up from his notebook and definitely not because someone politely told him, no.

It was that smell.

Breathing it in as deeply as he did was like applying for his spot in Heaven. The bite of hunger rose ravenously and yet he could do nothing to quench it.

He had been haunted by the smell of this next-door neighbor for the last three years, every day having to smell such a delicious odor made living with hunger even harder. Katsuki reminded him of the Christmas that he used to celebrate before his father had gone crazy with bloodlust and tried to eat him-

-ate him right the fuck up-

The fireplace lit next to the freshly cut Christmas tree, apple pies baking in the oven-

-Blood everywhere, matting the carpet and spreading in a puddle around his body-

The fresh laundry detergent and the pine needles falling to the floor as the tree aged and wilted-

-the way his tiny hands weakly beat at strong shoulders, the air in his lungs turning to poison that burned-

The smell of smoke when his Mom tried to plug in some Christmas lights but they burned out with a pop-

-the way his mom screamed when she walked in, how far away it sounded, the venom, the gunshot-

The bus stopped, and Izuku gathered up his bags. It was a very short walk to his house from the bus stop but it still was getting dark and he didn't like being out too late. Too many people start drinking around this time, and too many people take their dogs out for their last walk of the day. Too many teenagers are on their way to go gaming with their friends or coming home from a dick appointment. Too much opportunity for someone racist to spot him and do something to make him wish he was dead.

It had happened before, too many times where he would get beat up or robbed and he would have to hide the bruises and concussions from his mom until they healed. His mom never did do well when her child was harmed, though he guessed that was normal for any parent.

Which was why Izuku didn't blame Katsuki's parents for refusing to let them talk or become friends. It was common knowledge, after all, that 89% of murder cases in the world were vampire attacks.

They've had small interactions before, though they were very brief. As brief as it was now when Izuku walked up to his yard at the same time that Katsuki and his Mom were getting out of their car 10 feet away. Izuku stopped when he noticed the blond was staring at him, his bright red eyes looking him up and down with an unreadable expression and the smell of the blood rushing through his veins ever-present.

They stared at each other wordlessly, curiously, for a moment before Mrs. Bakugou turned.

"Katsuki, get in the house. Right now," his mother called from the doorway when she noticed her son wasn't right behind her.

The staring contest was broken and without even an inkling of emotion, as if he had never shown interest in the first place, Katsuki's head turned as if taken out of some kind of spell. Though Izuku was sure that he hadn't put him under one, because as one of the extremely rare few that has the power to influence, he wasn't in the habit of using this power. In fact, he didn't even remember the last time he did and to be honest he sometimes forgot he had such an ability.

He sighed when the mop of blonde spikes disappeared behind his neighbor's front door and turned to stick his house key in the lock.

The kitchen was a mess, and he should clean up before his Mom got home, but even though that would probably be hours away he got to work doing it anyway. None of it was his, of course; he couldn't consume human food or drink, but his Mom was tired. He would cook if he knew what he was doing, but unfortunately, he had no idea how. At best he could make a sandwich or a bowl of noodles. Maybe fry an egg or two. But as for the meals that he sees his mom preparing for herself, it was a no-go for him.

With the kitchen clean and the food put up in their very limited and sad fridge, Izuku went upstairs. The familiar tremble in his legs as he walked up made it hard for him to climb each step without the aid of the handlebar. He started to sweat as his mouth watered, signs of hunger pains that he chose to ignore day in and day out finally rearing their ugly head as Izuku finally decided to spoil himself by feeding.

Hunger was something he has gotten used to, the pain a life-long friend. Always there, though the relationship might be considered toxic.

Acute.

Inescapable.

Hungry.

Selfish with the desire to feed. To sustain. But the omega-V2 was going to have to do. Again.

And again.

And again.

Forever.

The last three years have been the hardest. At least before he didn't have to smell a certain blonde neighbor as he fed on the blood substitute. Now though as he opened the box under his bed and was teasingly reminded that he was down to his last bag for the month with two days left until September, he was taunted.

Sometimes he did wonder what it would be like. To taste real blood.

Warm.

Rich.

Satisfying as he would grab at blond hair to pry open more space so he could sink his teeth deep-

-He tore through the little preexisting "open here" tab at the top of the bag in his hands. His only sustenance for the next 2 days is light as a feather. His fangs extended as he prepared to drink.

The noise he made was shameful, and monstrous, and exactly why he only did this when his mother wasn't in the house. He couldn't let her see him so burdened, so animalistic.

Feeding was private. No way would he ever let her see him when he is drinking. He wasn't sure if she would look at him the same and he needed his Mom to keep seeing him as her son. Not the monster that he's become. Just one person needs to love him. Just one.

Just one.

The bag was miserably empty, and Izuku tossed it away the same way he wished he could toss away his need for blood. It smacked against the furthest wall with an unsatisfactory clatter, falling to the floor and laying there. Izuku was sure if it had a tongue of its own it would be sticking it out at him.

All the while that sweet smell tortured him senselessly. What hurts the most was that he couldn't get away from it, but he couldn't reach it either. As he sat there in the dim light of his bedroom he daydreamed about his neighbor offering himself up. No strings attached.

Yeah. Izuku knocked his head on the wall behind him scolding himself. That will be the day. Three years in and they have only exchanged looks. At this rate, he would be lucky to have a casual conversation about the weather in a couple decades. No sense really in getting his hopes up. Still, as tedious as it was to imagine, he imagined.

If only.

He could hear Katsuki's heartbeat. Pumping blood that rushed through his veins. The soft sound was like rushing water, only calmer somehow. Soothing. It's become a torturous lullaby that he secretly listened to every night before he went to sleep.

Ba-dump.

Ba-dump.

Ba-dump.

Strong and healthy.

Nobody had to know but him.

Strange that he actually knew a lot about Katsuki even though they have never officially met. Like how he likes classical music. He liked to take exactly 30 minutes in his shower. He went to bed every night at 8 but he didn't fall asleep until almost 10. He woke up at 4:30 every morning, sometimes even after a nightmare, so he could exercise until 6. He studied most of the week and it was rare that he talked to pretty much anyone on his phone, just someone called Kirishima. Even then his tone was always disinterested and bored.

Katsuki was bored. Day in and day out. Frustrated.

Izuku couldn't blame him, as much as he tried to ignore her out of respect, he could always hear when his mom shouted at him. He could hear every time she rejected him, hollered at him, and gaslighted him. She did it pretty often, and Izuku hoped that Katsuki didn't buy most of the stuff she said. To Izuku, he seemed like a pretty smart and swell guy, but when it came to Katsuki and his Mom, it seemed their relationship was paper thin.

That shouldn't make him as sad as it did. After all, they didn't know each other. The only other things that he knew about Katsuki were that his 18th birthday was in about 3 weeks and his family were loud celebrators. He had a huge family with more people than Izuku could count, yet he knew how lonely Katsuki felt still.

Izuku wished he could let him know somehow that he gets it.

Ba-dump.

Ba-dump.

Izuku sighed breathlessly.