Is that what you think?

Chapter Three

(TW: abuse, swearing)

Izuku's POV

There was no point hiding behind a flimsy piece of wood so I opened the door and took off my shoes. Deftly avoiding the broken pieces of glass that were littered across the floor, I walked into the living room to be greeted with my father sitting on an overly dramatic fancy chair that had a side table and lamp next to it. Being the over-dramatic ass that he is, he turned on the light and tried his best to be as intimidating. He would have bought a cat for the sole purpose of trying to intimidate me when I got back late, however, because he is allergic to cats he couldn't complete his villain act to the fullest potential. It's a shame, really, he was already most of the way there with everything else he does.

"What were you doing out so late? No doubt doing something illegal. What was it this time? Drugs? Alcohol? Join another gang?" As well as being an abusive father and an ass of a hero, he assumes that I go around doing illegal things and go out of my way to ruin the reputation he has 'worked so hard to maintain for Izumi's bright future'. Funny enough, he knows what Izumi does to me with Bakugou and yet I'm the bad influence and destroyer of her so-called 'amazing future as the number one hero'.

"Just the usual. Trying my best to destroy the family name. Punched an old lady walking down the street, kicked a puppy and tried to be the absolute worst person ever. Even started selling drugs to kids if you wanted to know." I've long since tried to defend myself from all the accusations of being nothing but a villain in his eyes and found it easier to simply go with it. The beating is reduced if I simply say I did bad things instead of 'hiding it like a villain would'.

"You villain!" he stood up and buffed up into his All Might form. Looks like he remembers buffing up in front of me when he was drunk. He made his way to me and punched me across the face. Due to the power of the punch, I was pushed back into the wall. I heard something crack, but I had a hard time trying to figure out if it was me or the wall. From the pain that bloomed from my right shoulder and the debris that fell on my head I think the answer was both. It was also safe to say that I could no longer use the entirety of my right arm. Before I could at least maneuver it a bit, but now it was completely out of commission for roughly a week or two. A part of my quirk is that my body's self-healing ability was increased so most injuries would heal quicker than normal. Not that anyone cared enough to pay attention. They just cared that their punching bag was, metaphorically, stuffed with more sand, stitched back up and ready for use.

Back to my abusive asshole of a father, he was using his quirk to inflict more damage because what's life without more pain. It seemed that he was finished as he had stood up and walked away. As he walked away I could hear him deflate and say, "why weren't you just born normal?" before he switched off the light and left me there.

I don't know what caused it, either what he had said or simply everything that has happened for the past nine - going on ten - years of my life, but I snapped. I had enough. There is and was nothing wrong with me. Quirk or no quirk I'm still a living, breathing human-being. If my own family can't accept something that was outside of my control, my own blood, then they aren't worth the effort. There was no point for me to keep coming back every day if this cycle of pain was going to get worse. I had other people, strangers, that cared more about me. They needed me.

With my goal set, I picked myself up from the cold wooden floor and now bloodied floor and climbed up the stairs and went to my room. First things first, I patched myself up. I had to redo the sling, but now had to be extra careful of my shoulder because of that muscle brained idiot. I honestly refuse to believe that he was my biological father. Aside from my shoulder, the only other injuries I had were merely bruises and a cracked bone or two. Once I finished, I grabbed the bag that I had hidden under my bed. I had known that I would run away one day so I prepared early in case I needed to run out of the house. Luckily, I didn't need to do that.