The Want To Go Home

Chapter 17

CH 17, a continuation of the fishing village.

For reader notice. I have 3 ongoing fics. Void Hero, TWTGH (the want to go home), and Geneticist. I go between updating each one and attempt to update each once to twice a month when possible.

I would also like to invite you all to my Discord server for my fics— . I do polls, post announcements for the chapters, and have links to all the important things on that server. It recently got a facelift as well, with the new surge in activity. Being on the server means you get to vote for the different fics and maybe even change a fate or two.

Anyway, back to the fic.

~~~~~

Izuku cracked his eyes open slowly, the feeling of small hands tugging at his coat and pants waking him from the quick sleep. The air was damp, hot, and heavy with a silence that carried the faintest echoes of something lurking in the distance. His muscles were tight, the weight of the living nightmare still heavy, like a foul scent that clung to him, refusing to let go. Izuku rubbed his arms, trying to shake off the unease. His hands popped as he pushed himself up. "Take the blade to the dream. I'll look at it later." He muttered to the gathering of Messengers. They responded quickly and sank the weapon. He felt his stomach lurch, the rapid regeneration of blood vials still needed fuel. "And bring me some bread, please. Or anything the old lady has made."

The collection nodded before disappearing. Izuku took a moment to stretch, feeling the pull of his muscles as he did so.

It didn't take long for the messengers to return. Only a few popped up, each one with a different thing in their hands. One held a small bag, another with a loaf of bread, and the final with a small quarter of cheese.

Izuku collected the foodstuff from them and began to eat, ravenous beyond reason. Each bite seemed to dissolve too quickly, failing to fill the gnawing void in his stomach. His hands trembled slightly as he tore into the bread, ravenous beyond reason. His body had repaired itself many times over, but the cost was this—hunger that felt like a beast, consuming him from the inside. He couldn't recall the last time he needed to eat, but the trek through the nightmare had been long, so long he could feel the aches of his body from the countless fights still. He waved to the little messengers before beginning his ascent to the top of the well. A good feeling in his chest.

Izuku shifted, climbing slowly as the memory resurfaced. His mind wandered back to those frigid winter months when he'd dared to dream of moving up a grade. His heart had been filled with hope—just maybe—he could carve a path for himself. A path away from the daily torment of Bakugou, away from the constant humiliation. It had been a simple goal, but the mere thought of it made him feel warm like he had a reason to keep going. He'd studied like a man possessed, taken the test, and for once, he had felt good. Really, genuinely good since being diagnosed as quirkless.

But that warmth... shattered.

He hadn't meant to overhear the conversation. He'd only come out of his room, padding quietly toward the kitchen. He'd wanted a glass of water—nothing more—but as he approached, his mother's voice cut through the silence like a knife. Her back was turned to him, her posture tense, her tone sharp and clipped. "You know I can't send him to Hisashi. What would be the point? It's cheaper to keep him here. At least I don't have to deal with that bastard either."

The words felt like a punch to the gut. Izuku froze. He wasn't sure he'd heard it right. No... No, she couldn't have meant it like that. She had said mean things before, sure, but she still loved him, didn't she? Didn't she?

He wanted to believe that... but there it was—her words, laid bare in their callousness. To her, he wasn't a son. He was a burden, nothing more than a financial obligation she bore out of convenience.