Midoriya of the Dragon's Blood

Ch:19 - Five Stages.

He releases another sigh as he prepares dinner. The conversation with Miss Yoshikawa replaying in his head. The countless details his mother had gone into to make sure things would be fine.

And they would be. His mom had measured every detail, every outcome, every asset she owned, every stock she over bought, everything would fall to Izuku.

He should be happy. But he's not. He'd rather focus on something other than the absence of his mother. Other than the fact that he'd never hear obnoxiously loud music at 8 AM in the morning.

That they'd never go out on a whim. That she'd never ask him to bring vegetables on the way back from school. She was gone, and that weight was something he'd rather ignore.

It was simply too heavy. It was like trying to lift a dumbell that was the size of your stomach at the gym. If he tried getting it up now, he'd probably break his back.

He shakes his parasitic thoughts away. Focusing on washing a plate to get his chicken, rice and pan sauce meal for now.

He sits down on the table to eat his food. He munches and gulps slowly but surely. The clock ticks, there is no noise outside of his eating and the clock.

For the longest, no, for as long as he can remember it's only been him and his mother. Now he was just... realizing. Contemplating.

And as he's finishing up he realises he's crying. He was alone. Crushingly so. He was eating alone. He would be eating alone for a long while now. He wishes he asked for her to stay over for dinner.

Instead of getting up to wash his plate, he sits back down. Silently letting his tears form streams. He wishes she was here. He wishes she would hug him just one last time.

After 5 minutes of sitting and crying in silence, he decides that it's more than enough.

She was gone. No last words, no wishes and nothing. There was nothing. As hard as a pill that was to swallow, he'd need to break it up and accept reality anyway.

He gets up with a grunt, placing the chair back to the dining and heading to the kitchen to clean the dishes.

______________________________________

He wakes up next morning in a cold sweat, his heart thrumming a mile a minute. He struggled to breathe.

Can'tBreatheCan'tBreatheCan't

"Focus on my voice. Deel Breath in. 2, 3, 4, Deep breath out."  Shura spoke.

He followed Shura along. Eternally grateful for the voice that grounded him.

'That was fucking horrible.' A heart attack? No, you dont just shake off heart attacks and He's 15-

'Panic attack. Probably in your sleep.' Shura replies.

'Damn.'

Damn indeed. Maybe he should get therapy. Maybe he would once he found the time.

Oh well, for now its exam time. He'd probably face them, but that's rudimentary stuff.

x-X-x

He's pretty sure he aced the tests. Now the only other thing left is the funeral.

He hasn't slept well. The panic attacks havent been frequent but they're present. He's had 3 since the past week, and he's pretty sure they aren't just stopping any time soon.

The funeral was kept private. Only close friends were allowed, he didn't have any other family anyway.

The funeral was mostly people just telling him the same old lines "I'm sorry for your loss." and spiel of "God has a plan." He hated that one and "Everything happens for a reason."