He walks over and begins to observe everything. The papers are of maps, trade routes, towns far away, and even markers where the terrain gets especially bad. There are small notes written on blank pieces of paper in his mother's handwriting, as well as someone else's.
This person's handwriting is worn down, clearly older than his mothers. Izuku assumes its his fathers. The desk has even more papers stacked on it, with books with weak covers and yellowing pages.
He looks through all of the papers and books only to find that they are full of more maps and notes. They all detail areas traveled by his parents and the perfect times to go. He doesn't know how much time he spends at that desk reading everything, but by the time he stops, his eyelids feel heavy.
He gets out of the cellar and upstairs. Its pitch black, so much so that when he looks out the window, he can barely see outside. He stays there for a moment, the fire burning in the middle of the cabin.
He turns away from the window and sits in front of the fire, watching it. Her words replay in his mind as he sits there thinking. If she really doesn't want him to stay here, then he'll leave. He'll find those monsters and make sure they pay for what they did.
He feels anger coil in his gut as he stares at the fire. It was those monsters' fault that all of this happened. It was their fault that he was all alone now. It was their fault that his mother was taken away from him. He had to make them pay.
He ends up falling asleep, the ash from the fire staining his clothes. He doesn't dream this time, and he takes that as I sign. This was the right thing to do.
He spends months studying all of the maps and memorizing everything he can. While doing so, he spends the rest of his time getting everything else ready. He is able to go outside to the side of the cabin, where a broken sled is waiting.
It's covered in snow, its pieces broken in half, most of it a mess of wood and nails. The monsters must have left it here because of how messed up it was. He shoves the snow off of it with his small, gloved hands, his cheeks freezing despite his red scarf covering the bottom half of his face.
He holds the red string tight in his hand and pulls the broken sled as best as he can, dragging it inside of the cabin. Snow follows as he goes back outside to get the rest of the pieces. By the time he has everything, it's even more apparent that it's going to take a while to fix.
But he doesn't let that stop him as he spends his days working on the sled and memorizing the notes and books down in the cellar.
A year has passed, and Izuku is now 8 years old.
YOU ARE READING
I'll be your island in the raging storm
Fanfiction- Warning, Super slow burn - Izuku has lived a hard life trying to survive in the cold winter mountains. They are all he has known. Katsuki has lived a hard life trying to survive in the cold cages of the black market. They are all he has known. ...
