Midoriya Izuku has been bullied for being quikless in a world where 80% of its population is loitered by superhuman abilities. Unbeknownst to the whole world of the origin of quirks, Izuku awakens what has been the zero point breakthrough of quirks...
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It hurt. It hurt terribly. His heart was bleeding, his soul screaming in anguish. His Kaa-san is dead. His beloved mother, gone. Forever. Gone. Just erased. All he wanted was his mother’s soothing voice. A balm for his drowning soul.
He woke up to a reality that lacked it. He woke up to a world coloured in grey.
Quaking his head left and right to chase away the unwanted memory, he turned the key with quivering fingers.
Cob webs broke as the door slowly croaked open, raising dust. The hallway remained dark, no sound from within permeating the undisturbed air but the low catching of one lonely choking breath. (Thank whatever for the single fatherly bone Hisashi had in him, or Izuku would have lost this one last oasis if the elderly villain hadn't brought this place when Inko and him got married.)
Pale, calloused and scarred hands, strong and lean, made to fight, made to kill, to hold tight and give tender safety, shook as they numbly let go of the old weather-treated doorknob. The key remained behind the keyhole, ignored.
For a moment, his legs refused to move. His body was frozen, ice settling in his bones.
He trembled.
Emerald eyes, normally exceptionally sharp and deadly cold and oh so cunning, were wide and frightened. It was as if he had entered into a timeless dream, the sweet picture of homely normalcy only betrayed by the uncaring disrepair and unbothered traces of time, the cracks of abandonment bearing silent accusation to the devastation that had befallen a once lively and loving home.
Now, only silence greeted them.
Izuku had known, intellectually, what had been waiting for him, but knowing, and understanding - realizing, accepting, really - were completely different things. No words, no freaking evidence presented, could have prepared him for the undeniable truth. Even after 5long years.
To see. To feel. This ... This was no home anymore … … it was a tomb of memories. A nightmare come alive. … in the aftermath of death.
Time stops for no one. It goes on, whether you like it or not. Time slips away. Nothing mattered. There was nothing left. Nothing but despair. Nothing but memories. Reminders. Promises. Wishes. The cruelty of reality. The shadow of his mom, her presence hidden in the little things.
In the deepest recesses of his heart, where his darkest thoughts and feelings lingered, he had always known the unavoidable damning truth that despite her lovely smile, her sweet nature and gentle demeanor, his mother was broken. Having and living with a quirkless child, the abruptly continuing absence of the man that was her husband she once cherished like he actually hung the sun and the moon and the stars... Those could only do so much damage to her poor, little bleeding heart.
