A Bloodless, Broken Family

『 ⁰ ₂ 』

[ 𝐚 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐤𝐮 ]

heavily implied child abuse; implied self-harm; peer abuse; bullying; discrimination (allusions to ableism)

The entrance exam isn't made for people like Izuku—that much is obvious, with the towering robots made of iron and metal.

Izuku stares, bewildered, as students sprint forward, quirks ablaze.

'Free.'

For the first minute, he does not run, but strolls at leisure, staring at the gimmicky machines. Their movements aren't fluid; sharp turns, forward, back; easy to avoid and manoeuvre around. The weight of his support gear—approved by Nezu themself—is comfortable, the sister of a gun hooked to his leg and a 'hot-blade' strapped to his back, tied together with steel-toed boots and padding in his costume.

One minute, the first minute.

He bolts, envisioning white fire and flying knives chasing him as he runs and runs. He looks at the robots, watching as they shift from grey blocks and glass eyes to a familiar face he's grown accustomed to resenting. His mother's half-styled hair, green like his but darker, her equally as dark eyes, her frightening quirk.

He kicks off, using a free hand to grab into the grooves between the limbs, drawing his gun with the other, and aiming.

'BANG!'

Again, and again, and again.

Izuku grins, runs, and pretends the robots are the people who hurt him, people to hate, people to try and love.

The ground shakes, and the most intimidating robot barrels through the faux city, taller than the tallest skyscrapers. Izuku's adrenaline is still bouncing, energy leaving him restless. He watches as the zero-pointer becomes a towering giant with a head of short, shaved curls and glowing orange eyes, trailed by fire, burning white.

He ricochets off the broken pieces of concrete, scaling up the nearest building and running forward. With a leap, he unsheathes his sword, watching as the temperature of the metal rises and rises, until the blade is fire-hot red. It cuts through the robot with ease, like smooth butter.