Quirkless Isn't Hopeless (Complete)

Raindrop Remembrance

"I'm off, Mom!" Izuku yelled over his shoulder, opening the front door.

"Be safe dear." She replied, seeing him off with a smile. He nodded, leaving for school. Her lips dropped as the door closed. Izuku was never the same after he lost his quirk. He was able to put on a well-covered facade in front of everyone including his mother, but she knew. She sighed, knowing she couldn't do anything about her son's depression and began her day.

Izuku was walking through a park to reach a train stop. He placed his hand to his chin, thinking out loud. "Hatsume took the air trek she made me. She did say it's for a surprise and won't take long, but I didn't realize how much I had been using them, it feels off not having them. Although I should just be glad things went back to normal rather easily, maybe I was just being presumptuous, and she wasn't trying anything if so, I'll stick with that hypothesis unless anything differs." He continued to spew matters that no one around him could understand. "Tsuyu has become another case though." Lately every time they would greet each other her eyes would be downcast in disappointment, she would try to be polite, but he could tell her heart wasn't in it. "Which is bizarre, because Tsuyu always speaks her mind, and lets her feelings be expressed, for her not to do that..." Drip. "Huh?" Glancing up after it landed on the fingers holding his chin. He was so busy rambling he didn't notice. The clouds had become a blanket of nothing, blocking out the sky. It wasn't like the night he shared with Momo. That night, the rain held a transparent illumination of the constellations.

His eyes grew a hollow jade seeing the empty gray abyss in the sky.

And he remembered. The weak droplets sliding down the foggy window. The touch of her pale skin was always cool from the weather. To him, she was an everlasting embodiment of a rainy day.

"Here."

His eyes widened. An umbrella gave him shelter. He rose his stiff shoulders and dropped them, accepting the situation. He turned back to face her. "Oh hey, um, thanks. I didn't know it was going to rain. Forgot to check the weather reports. Hehehe." He laughed uneasily.

"No problem."

He mentally cringed. 'It's always like this!' He sighed, with a weak laugh, even if she didn't talk a lot he knew her well. A lot more than he cared to admit. "Well, we are heading to school. Let's go together." He didn't bother to ask because he knew she would simply nod her head.

It was barely noticeable but he could see it. How her lips lifted ever so slightly.

"Er, here let me hold the umbrella." Plucking it off her delicate pale fingers.

"Thanks."

They had gotten on the train. It was crowded, but they managed to secure a corner. Her back was pressed up against it while he used himself as a human barricade. He made sure there was a proper distance between them.

The train screeched to a halt, breaking that distance. People rushed in and out, jumbling him up, even more, he was shoved into the corner, pressed against her. He gritted his teeth, forcing some breathing room. "S-Sorry, I didn't mean to, uh, you know."

"Hm." Shrugging it off. She was busy staring at the window, placing her fingertips on it, sliding them down, following a raindrop. "Pretty." She whispered with almost no affection.

He gulped at her monotone voice. He bit his inner cheek, backing himself up from her. 'No. You have something with Momo. Ignore it. I-It's nothing. N-Nothing.'

"Everyday." She added. His eyes narrowed at her. He knew that she meant she wanted it to rain every day, but he also knew what else she was implying.

Her fingers dropped from the window, falling beside his arm. It was slow with a lack of effort, her hand crept by his wrist, her index and thumb attempted, hesitated, then gripped his sleeve.