What Could Have Been (vigilante deku)

29

Trigger warning⚠️

Izuku stood in the middle of the forest, lost and confused. He spun around in circles, trying to remember how he got there. He was in a clearing of dead grass, tall shadowed trees caging him in.

His heart pounded as his confusion only continued to grow.

Where was he?

How did he get there?

Where was everyone?

He wanted to call out. To scream for help, but he had no one to call to. Mic and Aizawa obviously didn't care. He must've been such a nuisance that they had no choice but to turn him in. He couldn't call to Jr, because if not for his worthlessness he wouldn't have gotten him caught by the heroes. He couldn't call the dad who never loved him and he definitely couldn't scream out for Shinsou.

Shinsou was a hero. He wouldn't want to lower his standards for a boy who lived his life in the wrong. Someone who killed his mom, pushed his dad off the edge and broke the law every night just to reassure himself that, deep down, he was still a good person.

That's why he did his vigilante work, right?

Izuku dropped to his knees on the damp grass in defeat. The moisture seemed to make his skin itch so he looked down to see why.

He wasn't wearing his regular clothes or his Vigilante outfit. His eyes filled with tears when he noticed he was wearing something he never wanted to see himself in ever again.

A hospital gown.

He yelped out, drowning in even more confusion.

Why was he here? Why was he in a hospital gown?

Tears began to stubbornly fill his eyes and his mouth opened against his will to call for help. To his shock, when his mouth opened, only a whimper managed to escape through the mountain sized lump that had formed in his throat.

Salty tears rolled down his face, his dry cheeks welcoming them.

He tried again to scream but only whimpers fell.

Suddenly, the sound of wind stopped and so did the swishing sound of the trees. He could hear someone coming through the forests over his panicked breathing and it only made his heart beat a hundred times faster.

He wanted to call to the person, but his throat was glued shut, not even whimpers escaping. He tried to see through the space between the trees in hope that he could catch a glimpse of who it was before they reached him.

But the tall trees only casted more and more shadows onto the shadows created by other trees, making any passageway into his clearing pitch black. He couldn't see, he couldn't talk. He could feel the cold biting at his skin, though. He could hear someone still stumbling in his direction and could taste the salty tears as they reached his trembling lips.

He hoped and prayed it was someone who could help. Someone who could get him out of there and help him illuminate the lump in his throat that prevented his voice from working.

His hopes were crushed when a all-too-familiar brunette stumbled out of the darkness, a grimy beer bottle in his hand.

Izuku wanted to run, to bolt away. He didn't want to deal with his father, to hear his downgrading words that would only add to the self hatred tower that Izuku seemed to be building.

"Izuku," his father slurred, almost tripping over his feet.

Izuku desperately fought to get up, but it was like the weight of gravity itself was holding him in place. He would lift himself about an inch off the grass and a weight as heavy as a billion skyscrapers would rest on his body and crush him again.