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[ Can I be happy? ]

Fanfiction

'Without Mom, what really am I?' Izuku always asked himself hypothetically...now, his mother was really gone. He still vividly remembers the blood seeping out of her, the small feeble smile she gave him before dying... the words of love she whispere...

#adopteddeku #adopteddekuau #adoptedizuku #adoptedizukuau #aizawa #angst #bnha #bokonoheroacademia #dadmic #dadzawa #deku #erasermic #izuku #izukumidoriya #mha #oocaizawa #oocizuku #presentmic #quirkizuku #shinsho #texttospeech #yamada #âu

Chapter 27- Memories

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❝𝗞𝗲𝗲𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝘆 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗜 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗜 𝗰𝗮𝗻'𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂.❞

                            

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. . .
HIS OWN REFLECTION MOCKED HIM, IZUKU REALIZED.
The realization tore through his very soul.
Cold water seeped through his dark lime hair, making it seem even darker than normal. His face was soaked wet, water dripping into the corners of his eyes, mixing with his salty tears.
A shiver went down his spine at the cold water dumped into his body, but all hopes of waking up his body and mind with a cold shower were futile even with the icy water.
Goosebumps raised at his arms and legs, and Izuku sighed, finally deciding to get out of the shower when realizing the efforts of a cold shower were merely fruitless, as his mind still remained numb.
He quickly got dressed, using a soft towel to dry his hair in front of the mirror.
He combed through his hair with his fingers, an uncomfortable silence suddenly luring in his surroundings.
Izuku looked down to his feet, fingers leisurely falling from his wet hair to his sides.
He looked at the mirror.
...
Green eyes narrow at his own reflection and the mirror followed his every movement.
...
...What's wrong, Izuku?
Can't keep up with your fake smiles?
...Scared you're going to lose your family again?
"No. They...they are not...my family. And I‐"
"ᴘᴇʀʜᴀᴘꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ꜱᴍɪʟᴇ ꜱᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ᴘᴇᴅᴏ―ɪ ᴍᴇᴀɴ...ꜱᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ꜱᴄᴀʀᴇ...ᴛʜᴇ ᴋɪᴅꜱ ᴀᴡᴀʏ."
Izuku's eyebrows furrowed at the memory replaying in the mirror, his own reflection mocking him of his ironic fate.
If his own self, his own reflection, couldn't help but mock him. Couldn't love him. How could he expect others to do the same?
How could he expect others to love him, when he himself couldn't do that?
He didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the sudden awareness.
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