{~Deku one-shots with angst~}

{Omoikane =God of Intelligence and Wisdom}

|The following chapter will contain topics such as break downs, grief/bereavement, slight hyperventilating, mentioned murdering, bullying and mentioned depression. Please read at your own risk. |

"Sir! Please look out!" a young green-headed child of 12, first year of middle school, called out. 

An older man, in his 70s was pulled back, sky blue shirt baggy on his chest. 

A car raced past, as two males, one younger and one older, picked themselves up from the floor, the former helping the latter. 

"Oh thank you so much for helping me young man! I would've surely died if not for you! I must repay you somehow!" 

Flustered, the boy's curls bounced as he waved his hands around "A-ah! T-that's really n-not n-necessary! A-anyone else w-would've done the same t-thing!"

"Nonsense, child! What is your name?" The old man said, a kind tone behind his words. 

"I- I'm Izuku- Izuku Midoriya." 

"Well Midoriya-kun, I am Itsuki Omoikane, please, call me Omoikane-san." 

"Itsuki Omoikane? Y-you're-!"

"Yes. You may have heard of me. I'm the old, quirkless man in this area." 

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Itsuki Omoikane knew how bad the quirkless were treated, especially those that are quirkless in this day and age. Back when he was a child, it was much more common, and he was one of the lucky few in the quirkless population to have made it past his 60's. He never had anybody, and no one bothered to change said-fact. But he managed to sell bracelets made of Forget-me-nots and Calla Lillies and managed to make necklaces with urns filled with Asagao. So when his dwindling life was met with the bright, endearing eyes of Izuku Midoriya, everything in him screamed at Omoikane to protect him. To be that person who he never had. It was written in every way Izuku acted, to the way he carried himself to try and take up less space, to his nervous nature, to his bright, red shoes especially made for the quirkless. 

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Izuku Midoriya didn't want much, didn't even need much. All he wanted was his mother and to become a hero, sure, maybe a friend would be nice too, but it's not like that would happen any time soon no matter how much he wanted it. Then, as if someone finally could see how much he was struggling, fate made Izuku and Itsuki meet, and despite the decades of age difference, Izuku found himself craving for Omoikane's presence more and more, the warm cups of teas, the giggles after stories of their lives and those pair of eyes that didn't feel sorry, didn't feel like they were being forced to do anything, no hatred, just pure kindness and care. Both of them were quirkless, and it felt like Omoikane knew Midoriya better than even his own mother. It was like the grandfather Izuku never had; his first friend in years. 

But fate just loves to mess around with Izuku. 

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It was Izuku's last year in middle school. The days weren't too bad 

he tries to forget the amount  of spider lillies he found on his desk this morning, 

-and it was nearly over! He could get through it

he can't forget how each insult slowly chips away at his heart because everything just feels like too much and sometimes he wonders what it would feel like if everyone just stopped, stopped- 

-and he gazes at the slowly flying sakura blossoms and the warm sunlight that envelopes him as he walks the familiar beige concrete and the sight of a pastel yellow house with a sakura tree right in front of it and-