From Bullets to Hearts

You better watch yourself.

It was a stressful week. While Izuku knew it was likely he'd hear back from the branch, he couldn't help but worry. Considering this was a job you couldn't wait on if called, Inko suggested he stop applying to other jobs.

So, with no real work to do around the house, no friends to talk to, and only a sporadic mother at home, Izuku was feeling very disarranged in his home.

It wasn't long before he got a fancy letter in the mail directed to him. Seven days, to be exact. Izuku found this strange, as the time to hear back was set for at least two weeks. But he wrote it off as them being just as desperate as they sounded.

***

Izuku opened the mailbox as he had every day for the past 7 days. Though he didn't expect to receive a letter, he knew better than not to check at all.

Pulling out the normal magazines, bills, and ads, he noticed an off-white envelope. It wasn't commercial size; it was almost as if it were handwritten. The edges were embellished with golden lines that swirled around the corners. The letter also weighed a little more than if the only thing in there was paper. In golden lettering and handwritten font was Izuku's name. However, the envelope didn't hold a stamp, nor did it have Izuku's address. 'Did someone have to drop this off?'

Izuku grabbed the rest of the contents from the mailbox and scurried back inside to see the envelope's contents.

Izuku truly had no idea of the contents, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't think it was from Ururaka. A part of him, thinking this was her, was mad. The other part of him was hopeful. Hopeful that when he opened this letter, she would be apologizing and begging to get back together.

If this was really what was in the letter, he would most likely tell her no. But he's ashamed to admit that if she sounded desperate enough, he might just say yes.

Regardless of this thought process, it wouldn't stop him from dropping the other papers on the dining room table and using his nonexistent fingernails to try and open the letter.

"Izuku! What are you doing? You're about to desecrate that door envelope." Izuku looked up to see his short mother standing in the hallway.

"Oh, hey, mom. I didn't know you were home." He looked down at the envelope in his hand, no longer in danger of being mangled. "I got this fancy-looking letter in the mail and wanted to open it, you know?"

"Silly boy." The shorter greenette shook her head and walked over to the junk drawer, grabbing an envelope opener, and handing it to Izuku. "It looks special; what if you have to keep the envelope?"

Izuku agreed and split open the letter with much more ease than before discovering the contents.

A sticky note and a USB stick? He unfolded the sticky note to find four words written in the scraggliest handwriting he'd ever seen.

Sincerely, the Brazil Branch.

His jaw dropped. Does this mean he's already heard a response? This is a week earlier than he expected. Still holding the USB stick in his hand, Izuku ran to his room, digging in his drawer for his laptop.

When he finally found it, he sat it down on his desk and went to lock the door. But Inko was standing right outside the doorway with an unimpressed look on her face.

"You wanna tell me what this is all about?" She motioned to the laptop and tore apart drawers.

"The branch responded; their response is on this USB stick. At least I think." He stopped for a moment to look at his mother, wanting to experience this with her but knowing he needed this to be his achievement or failure alone. "I'll tell you how it goes."