TW: vomiting, torture, (slight) suicidal thoughts
"Mom," Izuku's small voice wobbles as the words escape his lips in a breathless plea. "Mom wake up," he shakes the woman's shoulder as forcefully as an eight year old can.
Ashes and flames flutter around them as if they aren't about to consume them whole. The boy's green eyes are wide with terror, and tears stream down his cheeks in a cascading fashion.
"Please," he cries as he throws his arms and head to rest on his mother's stomach, "I can't lose you mom."
...In loving memory of Izuku and Inko Midorya...
He can distantly feel the blood pooling down his face, and decorating his freckled face in a gruesome way. His innocence adorned with a crimson liquid muddying the image of the young boy. Innocence drenched in blood, what a cruel world to live in.
A screech escapes his lips as the wood beneath him gives way, and time freezes. He feels as if he's not in his body anymore as he reaches for his mother who is getting further and further away. He's falling, and when he thinks back he'll realize that that was the moment it all clicked.
...him and his mother were taken from us when they were far too young...
He can't help himself as he reaches for what he will miss the most. It's as if his mind knew that nothing would ever be the same. His hand knew to try and grasp at the most precious thing he ever had. In the end, evil prevailed and Izuku was none the wiser.
...may they rest in peace, and know nothing but love and freedom...
—
White walls greet Raiden's vision as he finally comes back to himself. He's on his cot, in his room, screeching beeps sounding him awake. He scrubs a hand over his face, his fingers tracing the scar that slits through his left eyebrow.
He's lying on his stomach, and takes the chance to unfold his purple wings and stretch them upward to the ceiling. The muscles deliciously untense with the release of the night's sleep. The tips of his wings scratch against the ceiling, and he brings them back to a horizontal position to stretch outward as if he were gliding through the air.
The purple wings catch the dull light and the sheen of iridescence coats the wings with a shimmering effect.
He doesn't know why he's dreaming about that now, after everything. It's not like he can do anything about it, or find any semblance of solace in the memory. That was the day the world stopped hiding behind closed doors.
The dam finally broke, and the floodgates were laid bare. Nothing could have prepared him for the surge of never ending waves. They crested over him and overwhelmed every bit of him. The whispered tales of heartache, sadness, and anger. That's what the world truly consisted of, after all. Bits of happiness are nothing but fleeting moments preparing you for the next crash.
The ache in his wings finally sated he gathers himself to his knees and bends backwards. His muscles burn and soothe the clumped, unused muscles. He stands and rolls his head, two loud cracks erupting from both sides.
He changes out of his sleepwear, and adorns black sweatpants and a similar tinted shirt. The shirt has the sleeves cut off, which show the scars that smatter his skin in jagged lines, and ruthless patches. Some overlap, other's trail along never being touched, and some cover others–as if the first scar wasn't enough.
The door opens, and his eyes meet his handler. Quite the wishy washy man who can never make up his mind if he hates Raiden or not. "Razoredge, we are to report to Madam President. Fall in."
He does just that, and after passing through the underground halls of the facility, they travel up an elevator until they reach one of the top floors. It takes a while, because his quarters are below ground. They can't have their most guarded secrets in the light of day, after all.
YOU ARE READING
A Honed Edge (Izuku Midorya)
Фанфик...In loving memory of Izuku Midorya... Raiden Azuma is a weapon, and weapons are meant to be wielded by whoever is capable. ...him and his mother were taken from us when they were far too young... The Hero Commission took the boy in, and molded him...
