Izuku, the forgotten child of Inko and Toshinori, stood before them with an inscrutable expression, his eyes betraying little emotion. Though a whirlwind of thoughts and unspoken words swirled within his parents, they found themselves rendered mute by his presence, their gazes drifting around the sparsely furnished room. The walls, adorned with faded posters and peeling paint, seemed to echo the neglect that had permeated Izuku's upbringing.
"If you have nothing to say, please leave," Izuku's voice cut through the heavy silence, prompting him to break it with a statement of his own.
Toshinori hesitated before tentatively offering, "We're going to a restaurant for dinner. Would you like to join us?"
Izuku arched an eyebrow skeptically, internally questioning their motives. Join them? What ulterior motives lurked behind this invitation?
"Sorry, I can't," Izuku replied coolly. "I don't have suitable attire for such an occasion."
"We can buy you something," Toshinori quickly suggested, his desperation palpable.
Izuku narrowed his eyes at the offer but acquiesced with a nonchalant nod. "Fine."
After meticulously selecting and purchasing a suitable dress for Izuku, the Yagi family embarked on their journey to the restaurant. Toshinori and Inko cast furtive glances at Izuku in the rearview mirror, their anxiety mounting with each passing mile. The rhythm of the car's engine hummed in the background, punctuated by the occasional tense exchange.
Their arrival at the restaurant forestalled any further attempts at conversation. Led to their table by a perplexed host, the family settled into an uneasy silence that seemed to stretch on endlessly. The ambient chatter of other diners filled the air, a stark contrast to the palpable tension enveloping the Yagi family's table. As the minutes dragged on, Toshinori and Inko's discomfort grew palpable.
Their attempts to engage Izuku in conversation were met with terse, one-word responses that only served to deepen the chasm between them. The clinking of silverware against plates provided a dissonant soundtrack to the strained atmosphere.
Izumi, sensing the tension, made a valiant effort to break the silence. "So, brother, have you made any new friends? Or perhaps found someone special?"
"No" Izuku's response was curt, devoid of any elaboration.
Undeterred, Izumi pressed on. "What about the girls in our friend group?"
Again, Izuku's answer was clipped. "No."
Izumi's efforts to bridge the gap only seemed to exacerbate the unease, leaving Inko and Toshinori at a loss for words. Their attempts at normalcy felt like feeble attempts to mend a rift that had long since widened beyond repair. Finally, Inko summoned the courage to broach the question that had been weighing heavily on her mind. "Izuku... Are you angry with us?"
A heavy silence descended upon the table as everyone awaited Izuku's response. He paused, setting down his utensils before delivering his answer with chilling detachment.
"No," Izuku's voice was calm, but his words carried a sharp edge. "I'm not angry. Why would I be? You weren't parents to me; you were merely landlords, providing shelter without care or concern."
The revelation hit Toshinori and Inko like a sucker punch, leaving them reeling in its wake. But Izuku wasn't finished. His words hung in the air like a heavy fog, suffocating any attempts at reconciliation.
"At least that's how I see it," he continued, his gaze flickering toward Izumi, who shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny.
After exhaling heavily, Izuku set down the fork and spoon he had been holding and rose from his seat. His movement prompted the others to stand up as well, but Izuku gestured for them to remain seated. A sudden loud wheeze reverberated throughout the room, causing the Yagi family to swivel their heads in search of the source. However, they found everyone either looking elsewhere or focused on their own meals. Their gaze eventually landed on Izuku, who had vanished without a trace.
The abrupt departure left Toshinori and Inko in stunned silence, their eyes darting around the restaurant in a futile attempt to locate Izuku. The air crackled with unresolved tension, and the sounds of clinking cutlery seemed to echo louder in the now-empty space that Izuku had occupied.
As the weight of Izuku's words settled upon them, Inko's eyes glistened with unshed tears, and Toshinori's shoulders slumped under the burden of regret. The restaurant, once filled with the buzz of diners, now felt suffocatingly quiet, the unspoken turmoil of the Yagi family hanging heavy in the air. Izumi, caught between sorrow and frustration, reached out to touch Toshinori's hand, seeking solace in their shared bewilderment. The echoes of Izuku's departure lingered, a haunting reminder of the chasm that had grown between them.
