Chapter 2: Shadows of Doubt
Izuku's vision swam as he jolted awake, disoriented and aching from the intense memory. His body was battered and drenched, pain radiating from every cut and bruise. He lay on the wet ground, the rain hammering down on him, mixing with the grime of the alley.
"Wait, no, no, no! Why? Why? Come back!" Izuku's voice broke, ragged and desperate, as he reached out, his trembling hand grasping at nothing but the chilling breeze. Tears mixed with the rain on his cheeks, and the emptiness of his grasp echoed the void in his heart.
'It's over, Izuku. He isn't coming back. He never did, and he never will. So forget about him. You don't need him. You have us, always by your side,' the female voice whispered, her tone sickeningly sweet, yet cold. Her breath was icy against his ear, her embrace tightening like a snake's coil. Her eyes gleamed with a twisted delight, savoring his despair. 'Isn't it better this way? No one to leave you… except us.'
'Tch, he has us yet he still can't do a thing without me! You're a joke, Izuku. I've never seen a bigger loser than you! I tried to help you, but that body of yours is too damn weak. Look at yourself. You're pathetic. You're on the ground crying about that failure of a Father you had. He left you. He didn't want you. Or that useless hag you call a Mother. Yet and still, you cry about him and the words they spoke that day like some little kid that lost his Mommy.' The voice of a boy resounded, one that looked to be the age of Izuku; however, his features seemed more devilish.
Ipdakchyeo! Shut the hell up! Neo? Help me? You've never helped me! You said you'd have my back, geojismaljaeng-i! You've only made everything worse, and don't you dare talk about them like that," Izuku spat out, his voice trembling with rage and sorrow. His hands shook as he tried to push himself up, but his body gave out, collapsing back onto the cold, wet ground. His teeth clenched, blood dripping from his lip as a guttural cry of pain escaped him.
'Oh, did I strike a nerve there, Izuku? I've always had your back, though it's funny. Whenever I say something that hurts your poor little feelings, you're quick to get fired up. But whenever it's him, you shrivel up like a bug. I try to be helpful, to be your friend, but every time. Every damn time you say no, you cry and have a fit about how you don't want my help. Yet when I help you, they don't bully you. They don't even make eye contact with you. It's like they're scared of you or what you become. Well, all but him. That's why you look the way you do now, pitiful.' The boy continued to speak as he just looked on at Izuku.
Izuku didn't say a word to the boy. He just looked at him, anger and fear in his eyes as he tried to stand, a wave of nausea hitting him, and he collapsed again, his head spinning. He coughed up blood, his breath ragged as he tried to push himself up, but the pain was relentless.
'Aw, look at him. Isn't it beautiful to see him struggle? That pain on his face is to die for, hehe,' the female voice rang out again as she giggled, clutching ever tighter onto Izuku's body as she enjoyed the pain he was in.
'It's disgraceful, mother. That's what it is. I'm supposed to be one with that. Look at him. He can't even get up from the ground,' the boy spoke out once again as he looked with disgust at Izuku.
Ignoring their words and laughter, Izuku's once bright emerald eyes, now shadowed with exhaustion, scanned the dreary surroundings. Trash piles loomed around him, and the stench of decay filled the air, mingling with the rain's chill. He could hear the squeaking of mice and other creatures as they ran towards the piles, trying to seek cover from the ever-pouring rain.
Izuku's body trembled uncontrollably, not just from the cold but from the tormenting thoughts that the inner voice left behind. Echoes of her chilling words seemed to swell around, a haunting reminder of the emotional scars he carried.
Then her voice echoed in his mind, 'Well, time's up, Izuku. While others may leave you, while they belittle and abandon you, we will always be here. Unlike them, we'll never leave. We'll linger in your thoughts, weave through your emotions, and stay by your side. You might wish for them to stay, but remember, it's us you'll always hear. We're a part of you now, whether you want us or not.'
Izuku's heart pounded as he tried to piece together his fragmented thoughts. He glanced at the two demons who were amused or disgusted at his grueling state.
'All they do is laugh at me, yet they say they are all I have. Pathetic,' Izuku thought as he gritted his teeth in anger.
He then looked at his wounds, each cut and burn a testament to the physical and emotional abuse he had endured. The memory of the voice's cold promise, that it would always linger, made him shiver despite the rain.
As he struggled to rise, the memories of his past flashed vividly before him, mixing with the inner voice's taunts. He felt trapped in a relentless cycle of pain and self-doubt, unsure of how to escape the torment that seemed to follow him wherever he went.
'Why do you even try, Izuku? I've always wondered why you keep trying so hard, ever since you created us, ever since you were little.' The boy's words echoed in Izuku's mind, but he didn't respond. He stared at his wounds, the physical pain blending with the emotional torment. As he gazed at the cuts and bruises, the memories surged back, dragging him into the relentless tide of his past once more.
***
It was like any other day. Izuku was on his way home his headphones around his head as he listened to music trying to escape from the twisted reality he lived in. At that moment it was only his soul, body, and the music. The inner voices were nonexistent he couldn't hear them nor did he care to even think of them in that moment. Izuku only walked the blissful symphony playing in his ears. For some reason, a reason he didn't even know he decided to take a separate path from the one he normally did—a choice he later regretted.
His fingers danced along the air his mind imagined playing a Piano. Every note played from his headphones corresponded with his fingers as they glided seamlessly in the air. He didn't care about the day, the bullying that transpired, nor the words people spoke of him it was just him and the sound of the Piano. At that moment Izuku felt a warm feeling in his chest a feeling that nowadays was only an illusion. Happiness.
However, this blissful moment of warmth didn't last forever as soon, three figures emerged behind Izuku: a boy with sharp, crimson eyes like a devil, and spiky ashy blonde hair. His figure was taller and more well-built than Izuku, exuding arrogance and confidence. To his left side were two other boys: one a tall, slim kid with long black hair reaching his shoulders, and the other a short, bulky kid with low-shaved brown hair.
What was unique about these two boys were their appendages. The slim boy had razor blades of some kind extending from his arms and fingers, while the bulkier kid had two draconic wings protruding from his back, with noticeable crimson scales along his arms. As they looked at Izuku, they snickered.
"Do you think he can hear us, Bakugo?" asked the slim boy. "I mean, we can hear the music from his headphones from here, so he definitely can't hear much around him."
"Yeah just look at him go it's like he's in a whole other world hahaha" Laughed the bulky kid.
The blonde boy now known as Bakugo didn't say a word. He just looked on at the back of Izuku, his eyes unmoving as his mind thought back to the past for a brief second. However, those thoughts quickly vanished.
"Tsubasa, Togaru do you guys remember what happened earlier today with that bastard Deku, how he started mouthing off to us like we were beneath him, like we were below him? He looked down on us that useless, quirkless, nobody looked down on us…on me! Where'd that failure get that confidence from?" Bakugo spoke aloud, his palms started to release sweat as he clutched them into a fist. Subtle low whisps of sparks started to release from his palms as a devilish smile plastered onto his face. His eyes bore into Izuku, his body trembling with rage. His fist clenched together so tightly that his nails dug into his palms, drawing blood. He released his grip as mini explosions released from his palms almost looking as if they were growing stronger as his blood mixed with his sweat.
Looking on at Backugo in that state the slim boy, Toguru, and the bulky kid, Tsubasa, smirked as they watched Izuku, still zoned out listening to music. Tsubasa stretched out his wings and arms, readying himself to charge. Toguru prepared to lunge as well. But before they could move even an inch, Bakugo lunged forward, using his explosions to propel himself faster. The only sound that could be heard was the cold loud yell of the boy as he lunged towards Izuku.
"DEKU!~"
Izuku was immediately stricken out of his moment of bliss by the piercing sound of the person he feared most. His body went cold as his instincts told him to run, to do something, but he couldn't. His throat went dry, his thoughts blank as his eyes lost color. Sweat formed on his trembling body. The music still played, but each note now seemed to herald his inevitable downfall.
As Bakugo drew closer, Izuku's instincts kicked in. He raised his arms in a futile attempt to defend himself, but Bakugo's palm met his flesh with searing heat. The explosion sent Izuku crashing to the ground, his head hitting the concrete with a sickening thud. His headphones, barely cushioning the impact, were now stained with blood.
'Looks like my poor little hero is gonna get hurt again. It's what you deserve. I can't wait to see you suffer and crumble under their hands in agony as they beat you to a bloody pulp. Every blow they land is a reminder of how powerless and pathetic you are. Get up if you can, but I know you won't last long. This is what you've always been destined for. hehehe…' The woman giggled as she licked her lips looking at Izuku as he struggled to get up.
"GET UP, DEKU!" Bakugo's voice thundered, filled with a cruel, twisted satisfaction.
Izuku's body trembled as he struggled to rise, only to be kicked viciously in the stomach by Toguru. He was hurled through the air, crashing into Tsubasa, who grabbed him with a malicious grin. With a swift motion, Tsubasa slammed Izuku back onto the pavement. Blood and saliva sprayed from Izuku's mouth as he gasped for air, his chest heaving painfully.
The relentless barrage continued. Bakugo, now charging at Izuku with another explosion, targeted his arms. The searing pain from Bakugo's explosions was not just physical; it shattered the brief respite Izuku had found. The warmth of his earlier peace was replaced by the cold grip of fear and despair.
'Why did you choose this path? You knew they'd find you. You knew this would happen. We warned you, but you ignored us. You ignored me, your sweet, loving mother. Now, look at you—getting exactly what you deserve. I hope it hurts.'
The mocking laughter of Bakugo, Tsubasa, and Toguru filled his ears, drowning out the faint echoes of the music that had once provided a fleeting escape. Bakugo's cruel taunts pierced through the chaos.
"What's wrong, Deku? Where's that spunk now? I thought you were going to beat us, huh? What happened?" Bakugo's grip tightened on Izuku's arms, his explosions growing more intense. Izuku let out a heart-wrenching scream as blood and sweat pooled around Bakugo's fists. Each explosion left his flesh seared, wrists raw, blackened, and peeling.
The pain was relentless. Faint whispers crept into Izuku's mind, fueling his self-loathing.
'You deserve this,' a voice hissed. 'All you ever do is fail.'
Bakugo's sadistic smile widened as some of the blood splashed onto his face.
Izuku's thoughts were a storm of self-doubt. His wrists burned, skin blistering and cracking. The voices in his head grew louder, insidious.
'Look at you, so weak, so pathetic. You think you can be a hero? You can't even stand up for yourself.'
The agony intensified as Toguru jabbed his blade-like fingers into Izuku's lower back. Each stab was a jolt of excruciating pain, making Izuku's vision blur. The inner voices grew louder, more urgent.
'Why do you keep trying? You know they're right about you. You're nothing.'
Tsubasa joined in, pummeling Izuku's back with merciless force. The repeated blows rang out, each one sending shockwaves of agony through Izuku's body. The voices continued their cruel taunts.
'You should just give up. No one cares about you. No one will ever care.'
Finally, Bakugo stepped back, a sinister grin stretching across his face. He placed his hands on Izuku's back and used controlled explosions to sear the wounds shut. The smell of burnt flesh filled the air as Izuku screamed, his body convulsing in torment. The inner voice now screamed louder than ever.
'Even he thinks you're a joke. You're not worth saving.' An inner voice spoke to Izuku followed by another more feminine voice.
'Even if he thinks you're a joke, you're still not worth saving. Yes, scream louder for me. Let every bit of your agony be heard. I want to relish in your pain, honey. Show me just how much you're suffering'
Bakugo glanced at Izuku, noticing the fresh burns, cuts, and bruises. He laughed, addressing his cronies.
"Hey guys, listen to this! Deku thought he could end it all. He's been cutting himself all over his arms. Pathetic, but I'd expect nothing less from a loser like him."
The others joined in the derisive laughter. Izuku's mind swirled in confusion and pain.
'Oh, my sweety looks like they found out about your little secret hehe…Don't worry. I'll guide you on where to hide those scars so that no one will find them. I'll make sure they're in places no one will ever see. After all, it's your pain to keep hidden, isn't it?'
Bakugo, eyes cold and calculating, grabbed Izuku's ruined headphones. With a swift motion, he exploded them, the music abruptly stopping. The sight of his destroyed headphones registered with Izuku, and his world went blank. He couldn't think beyond the loss of his music, not even noticing that Bakugo now held him in his grasp.
Without the music to drown out the voices, they roared in his mind.
'He's not your friend. He's never been your friend,' a darker voice whispered, now more insidious and direct. 'You think he cares about you? Look at what he's doing. He wants to kill you. He wants to hurt you. Tell me, Izuku, would a friend ever do that?'
Izuku's eyes welled with tears, not just from the physical pain but from the profound sense of betrayal and relentless torment. He clung to the dream of becoming a hero.
'I want to be a hero,' he thought desperately. 'I want to save people. I want to be like him.'
Bakugo's mocking voice cut through Izuku's thoughts.
"What's the matter, Deku? Did I break your precious gift from Daddy? Did I make you mad? Come on, hit me. I know you want to. Just once, I'll give you a pass. Come on, say something, buddy. We're just having a little fun, aren't we?"
Bakugo showed his cheek to Izuku, who stared at him with wide, tear-filled eyes, coughing up blood and saliva. Bakugo's grin faded, his voice growing cold.
"A little fun between friends, right?" He began to slap Izuku's face repeatedly, each strike causing blood to drip from Izuku's mouth.
The inner voice continued its relentless assault.
'How can you save anyone when you can't even save yourself? What happened the last time you tried to save someone, huh?'
Izuku's mind flashed with painful memories.
'They looked at me with hatred. They judged me, not for saving them, but for who I am. They just looked down on me.'
'Yes, they didn't want your saving. They just looked at you like a bug. Just like Bakugo is doing now.'
Bakugo's taunts pierced through Izuku's agony.
"So, you're not going to speak, huh? Alright, I'll make you. Like the pathetic dog, you are."
Bakugo's explosions continued, relentless and brutal. Izuku's body trembled, his vision blurring. The inner voices, no longer silenced, screamed louder than ever.
'FIGHT BACK!'
'FIGHT BACK, IZUKU!'
The words echoed mercilessly in Izuku's mind as the relentless blows pummeled his body. His clothes burned and tore from the explosive heat, leaving his skin scorched and blistered. His wrists were raw, bloody, and blackened from the repeated blasts. The searing pain reverberated through every fiber of his being, and he let out a gut-wrenching scream, tears streaming down his face. His thoughts were a chaotic storm of conflicting emotions.
'I will… No. I can't. I want to fight, but I just can't…'
'Why not?' the inner voices demanded, their harsh tone relentless.
'I'm scared. What if…'
'No! Don't think "what if"! Fight back! If you don't, you won't survive. Get up and fight, damn it! Fight!'
Izuku's body eventually gave in to the pain, collapsing onto the pavement. The assault continued without mercy. Toguru jabbed his blade-like fingers into Izuku's back and sides, each stab sending shockwaves of agony through him, his vision dimming with every thrust. Tsubasa joined in, his fists pounding relentlessly into Izuku's back like a cruel punching bag, each thud echoing in the alley.
'Now this is true music the sweet sounds of pain as they hurt you…'
Finally, Bakugo, still holding Izuku, stepped back with a chilling satisfaction. "That's enough," he said coldly. "I've got a better idea for our brave little suicidal friend."
With a sinister grin, Bakugo placed his hands on Izuku's back once more. Controlled explosions seared the wounds shut, stopping the bleeding but inflicting excruciating pain. The stench of burnt flesh filled the air as Izuku screamed, his body convulsing in agony.
The faint voices in his head grew louder, their words piercing through the haze of pain.
'You can't let them do this to you. You have to fight back. Fight, Izuku! Fight!'
But his body was broken, his spirit crushed. As Bakugo stepped on his chest, the pain overwhelmed him, and Izuku's world went dark.
He awoke in a familiar, haunting landscape—red spider lilies stretching as far as the eye could see. His vision was blurry, but he could make out a devilish-looking boy crouched in front of him, wings unfurled, holding an apple. In the backdrop, the faint voices of Izuku's parents began to emerge.
The mother's voice was soft yet menacing, cutting through the haze of Izuku's pain. 'Look at you,' she said, her tone dripping with disdain. 'So fragile and broken. This is what you always wanted, isn't it? To be utterly powerless, to be nothing.'
The father's voice was gruffer, carrying an edge of bitter disappointment. 'You're nothing but a disappointment,' he growled. 'All those times you tried, and what did it get you? Nothing. This is your reality, and it's all you deserve.'
The mother's voice returned, more insidious, almost soothing in its cruelty. 'You think you can escape this? Struggle all you want. Let the pain consume you. It's what you're meant for.' She chuckled darkly. 'Cry out for me. Let me hear you suffer.'
The father's voice added a chilling finality. 'Every time you fall, every time you fail, remember this. You're alone, and you've always been alone.'
Izuku's thoughts were drowned in their relentless taunts, his body trembling as the voices echoed around him, amplifying his despair.
Snap…Snap…Snap…
However, three snaps brought him back to his senses as he looked at the demonic boy who was eating an apple his fingers still in the snapping motion.
'Hey don't worry about Mom or Dad right now it's just you, and me boy wonder.' the boy said with a sinister grin, biting into the apple. 'So, how does it feel, huh? You've been beaten to a pulp. They really did a number on you.' He laughed, his voice dripping with mockery.
Izuku couldn't speak, his eyes locked on the boy as his vision slowly cleared.
Sighing dramatically, the boy continued, 'You know, I really hate you, Izuku. To me, you're just a mediocre, cowardly, naive, soft, feeble bastard who cries about everything and thinks that shedding a few tears will make everything magically go away.' He took another bite of his apple and spat it onto Izuku.
'See that? That's how people treat you. They spit on you, ridicule you, bully you. You've been isolated for so long that it's normal for you. Every time I see you get picked on, I feel like you're getting what you deserve. But there's one thing that really gets to me—that Bakugo kid. I can't stand him as much as I can't stand you. So, I'll give you a choice.' He tossed the remaining apple to the ground.
'Let me take over for a bit and have some fun with them, like last time, or you can let it continue until you either die, someone finds and helps you, or they get bored and leave. So, what's it gonna be?'
"No, not again! You made them do this. It's because of you that they're doing this now!" Izuku protested, struggling against the oppressive presence of the boy.
'If I hadn't done it before, they would have done much worse. Now shut up and let me take over. You're already a mess, so what's a little more pain, huh? It'll be fun.'
"I said no—" Before Izuku could finish, his mouth was covered by a multitude of spider lilies that wrapped around his face and body. He squirmed, trying to scream, but only muffled sounds emerged. The boy smiled, his wings spreading wide.
'It's showtime!'
With those words, Izuku's consciousness faded, and the inner voice took control.
Izuku's body, now under the influence of the inner voice, endured a brutal assault. His legs were punctured, shallow holes scattered across his arms and body. Blood dripped from his wounds, and his clothes were completely burned or torn away. Only fragments of his pants remained. His legs were a mangled mess, blackened from countless burns. Bruises covered his body and face; his left eye was swollen, and his lip was split, dried blood mixing with fresh. His hair was matted, reeking of garbage and urine, as he lay in a pile of trash, rats, and rodents crawling beneath him. A dripping water pipe above him added to his suffering, and he could barely move from the pain. Some of his nails were ripped off, with dried blood clinging to his fingers and toes. His belongings were scattered around him, his bag the only item in somewhat decent condition, was tossed into a puddle with a few other possessions.
Above him loomed three figures: Bakugo, whose face was lit up with a look of accomplishment. Sweat dripped from his body, his breath ragged as he surveyed Izuku's battered form with a satisfied grin. The others were equally exhausted, their arms heavy from the ordeal. They glanced up at the sky, where the sun was setting and gray clouds gathered, casting a gloomy pallor over the scene. Their satisfaction was palpable as they prepared to leave.
"Well… sigh, that's done. That loser better think twice before talking down to me like he's better," Bakugo said, his voice dripping with contempt.
"Yeah, he'll think long and hard about this when he's crying home to that fat mother of his," one of the others added, a cruel chuckle in his voice.
"Yeah, they're a great pair—a quirkless nobody and a fat crybaby. A match made in heaven," the third one laughed.
"Hey, shut the hell up. I don't give a damn about Deku, but leave his mother out of it, got it? Now get the hell out of here before I do the same to you two that I did to him," Bakugo warned, pointing at the unconscious Izuku.
With that, the two others left the alley, heading home as rain began to pour down.
Sigh… Spit…
Bakugo spat on Izuku's prone form, walking away with a mumbled threat, "Fucking Deku, you're lucky I didn't kill you. But mess with me again, and I won't be so merciful."
Just before Bakugo could get too far, Izuku—or rather, the inner voice—spoke, his voice clear despite the pain. "So, the arrogant blonde still has a soft spot for his mom, huh? Funny, I was starting to think you only cared about yourself these days."
"What the hell! How are you still able to speak? Answer me, Deku!" Bakugo's rage was evident as he turned back, his voice filled with disbelief and anger.
"Lower your voice, hotshot. I've got a splitting headache right now and don't have time for one of your little fits. So hush up like the good dog you are, will you?"
The tension in the alley was palpable as Bakugo stared down at Izuku with a mixture of anger and contempt. He glanced at his two accomplices, who were already leaving, and then turned his gaze back to Izuku, who lay battered and broken.
The inner voice continued, "You think this proves something, huh? That you're strong or something? Hahaha…" Izuku's mouth moved, but the laughter and words belonged to the inner voice. Blood spat from his mouth as he laughed.
Bakugo's eyes narrowed in fury. "You still don't get it, do you? This isn't about proving anything. It's about showing you how worthless you are. And don't think for a second that this is over."
Bakugo's boots crunched through the debris as he moved closer to Izuku, his rage boiling over. "You think you're special, but you're just another weakling who needs to be put in his place. You're nothing, and you always will be nothing."
Izuku's eyes, though swollen and half-closed, stared defiantly up at Bakugo. "No… you're wrong. I don't give a damn what you tell yourself in that little head of yours, but you still can't stand Izuku, can you? Ever since that day, it's like you flicked a switch and went all heartless and shit to act tough. But hey, you're doing a good job at it, but whenever you head back to your Daddy's grave, send him a message in hell for me. Tell him Izuku said, 'Fuck you!'"
With that, he spit a mixture of blood and saliva onto Bakugo's eyes as he tried to punch him. However, his body couldn't move as he sighed internally.
'This weak body of his is really starting to piss me off!'
Bakugo sneered and, with a final, contemptuous look at Izuku, punched him in the stomach before turning to leave. "Whatever. Stay here and rot. Maybe someone will find you, maybe not. But next time you try to mess with me or just start talking shit out of your ass, remember this moment."
'Well, looks like the fun's over. I didn't even get to punch the bastard. Sigh…'
Izuku's eyes were glazed as his body slumped for a moment. The inner voice receded, leaving the real Izuku to awaken in the dimming light of the alley, struggling to stay conscious.
The faint echoes of his own cries and the harsh laughter of his tormentors reverberated in his mind. Despite the darkness closing in, a flicker of resolve remained. He would endure this. He had to. For himself, for his mother, and for everyone who had ever doubted him.
***
Just remembering the cruelty he had endured made Izuku's body shiver, his palms growing sweaty. He couldn't recall what happened after he went unconscious for the first time, only that he woke up later in a pile of garbage. He had tumbled off it after a few creatures scurried away for some reason, leaving him laid out on the pavement. His mind could no longer resist the overwhelming need for rest, so he shut his eyes, a tear of blood and water rolling down his left cheek as the chilling embrace of the wind lulled him to sleep.
The rest was history.
Now, Izuku lay on the cold, wet pavement, staring up at the gray sky as rain poured down on his pale face. He muttered to himself, "I shouldn't dwell on this for too long. I should head home. Mom must be wor—" He suddenly remembered, "Shit, Mom! Damn it, what time is it? How long have I been out here? Where's my phone? Ughh…"
Izuku groaned as he tried to stand, but his body collapsed back to the ground. His wounds reopened, and blood dripped from his mouth, mixing with the rainwater. The inner voice of the boy, persistent and insistent, cut through the haze of his pain.
'Why do you even keep trying, Izuku?' the boy's voice echoed with frustration. 'I've always wondered why you push yourself so hard, ever since you were little.'
Ignoring the taunts, Izuku stared blankly at the wounds and burns scattered across his body. The boy's voice grew more insistent, 'Hey, I'm talking to you! Why do you keep fighting this losing battle?'
Izuku muttered under his breath, "Ipdakchyeo!"
With a determined effort, he tried to push himself up again, but his legs gave out, and he collapsed. Blood seeped from his knees, and in frustration, he slammed his fist into the pavement, reopening the wounds on his knuckles. Pain surged through him with every movement, yet he crawled painfully toward his headphones, shattered and lifeless on the ground. His hands trembled as he reached out to grasp them, and memories flooded back—the words his father had said when he gave them to him.
His father's voice echoed in his mind, filled with warmth and hope: "I know things have been tough, and sometimes it's hard to escape all the noise around you. These might help you find a bit of peace, even if it's just for a little while. Use them whenever you need to block out the world or just think. I'll be back before you know it, and we'll be a family again. Promise me you'll take care of them, okay?"
'I'm sorry I guess I couldn't take care of them as I thought...' Izuku thought as he trudged forward.
Panting heavily, Izuku dragged himself over to his bag, which was drenched from the rain. With fumbling hands, he struggled with the straps, his fingers slick and shaking. As he rummaged through the contents, he brushed past a pair of bloody scissors before pulling out his notebooks—filled with detailed hero information. He sighed in relief; despite being damp, they were still legible.
The voices of the boy and his mother continued their relentless assault. The mother's voice was cold and mocking, 'Look at you, struggling like this. Pathetic.'
The boy added, 'Every failure, every time you've been let down, it's all coming back to haunt you.'
Desperation and resolve flickered in Izuku's eyes as he gripped the notebooks tightly. He knew he had to keep moving, despite the pain and the voices that tried to break him. "Damn it, where is it? Where?" he muttered as he hastily placed the notebooks back in his bag, frantically searching for something else.
"There it is!" he exclaimed, finding his phone, the screen cracked and barely functioning. Half of the display was pitch black. Panic surged through him as he saw the seemingly endless stream of messages and missed calls from his mother, his face growing even paler.
The inner voices fed off his anxiety and fear, mocking his distress as they watched him struggle.
Desperately, Izuku tried to maneuver with his phone, the cracked screen making it nearly impossible. Half of the display was pitch black, rendering it difficult to see anything.
He managed to unlock the phone, but texting his mother proved to be an insurmountable challenge. Frustration welled up inside him as he realized he couldn't properly communicate with her.
"Damn it!" He muttered as he gritted his teeth, hoping his Mother would understand his phone was broken when he got home.
Izuku glanced around, noticing the scattered contents from his bag. Among the debris, he spotted a few medical supplies—band-aids and other minor first-aid items. Despite the limited supplies, he inched his body over, understanding the necessity of at least partially dressing his wounds. He grimaced as he patched himself up as best as he could, wrapping some of the worst injuries to stem the bleeding until he could get home for proper care.
In his bag, he found his gym uniform, slightly damp from the rain. With great difficulty, he changed out of his wet clothes and into the gym outfit. Every movement was painful, each attempt to dress himself causing sharp stabs of pain. His pants ended up backward, and he struggled to catch his breath. The rain continued to soak him as he dressed, adding to his discomfort.
Attempting to stand, Izuku managed only to kneel. He grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder, then scanned the area for anything that might help him walk. He spotted a rusty old pipe and, with effort, used it as a makeshift cane. Limping painfully towards his home, the scene fades, showing his slow, arduous journey. Eventually, the rain-soaked image of his home came into view, signaling the end of his exhausting trek.
Izuku lived in a five-story apartment in the city of Musutafu. The surroundings were relatively ordinary, indistinguishable from other Japanese apartment buildings. However, today the atmosphere was heavy and overcast, with dark clouds looming overhead. The sky was alive with streaks of blue lightning, dancing amid the pouring rain.
After what felt like an eternity, Izuku finally arrived home, drenched and panting. He let out a sigh of relief and started to head upstairs. Once inside his apartment, he kicked off his shoes and pulled out his broken phone, squinting to make out the time displayed on the barely functional screen.
"It's already 9:00. Mom must be worried sick!"
Izuku began walking around the house, stepping into the kitchen area. As he moved, he glanced at the photos lining the walls—pictures of his father from different times and places. Each image brought back memories, some tender and some painful, but he shook them out of his head, focusing instead on finding his mother.
The voices in his head were relentless, still whispering and mocking. As he passed by the dining table, he spotted his mother, Inko, sitting there, staring at him. Her expression was a mix of concern and sternness, her eyes icy and cold, yet tinged with a trace of worry. Izuku hesitated, sweat trickling down his back, trying to find the words to say.
Before he could speak, Inko raised a finger to her lips, signaling him to be quiet. She clutched her phone tightly, her knuckles white, and spoke softly, her voice a mix of worry and frustration. "Where have you been, Izuku?" she asked, her voice strained. "School ended hours ago. Why do you look like this? What happened to you? Who did this to you?"
Izuku tried to respond, but his words came out as stuttering, incoherent mumbles. He stood frozen, unable to articulate what had happened. The voices in his head grew louder, their laughter echoing in his mind.
'Yes, tell her, Izuku,' the boy's voice taunted. 'Tell her what happened. What exactly have you been doing? Who did this to you? The woman is worried, after all.'
As they laughed even more, Izuku felt trapped between his mother's piercing gaze and the mocking voices in his head.
Taking a deep breath, Izuku began to speak, his voice shaky but determined to keep his story straight.
"I'm… I'm sorry, Mom. I was helping a kid at school who was getting picked on by some bullies. I tried to tell them to leave him alone, which they did, but…" His voice faltered, dropping to almost a whisper. "They turned their attention to me instead, and I ended up taking the brunt of it. I tried to get away quickly, so I ended up hiding out at the arcade with Bakugo and the others for a while."
He glanced away, his gaze falling to the floor as he continued. "I waited there until it was safe, but then the rain started pouring, and everyone left. I was left alone, trying to figure out what to do. I wanted to call you, but my phone got broken in the scuffle, along with my headphones."
Izuku paused, taking another breath. "I'm okay, really. Just a few scrapes and bruises, nothing too serious. I just needed some time to gather myself before coming home. And now… well, here we are."
As Inko listened to Izuku's explanation, her icy demeanor began to crack. Her eyes welled up with tears, and her voice wavered between anger and sadness.
"Mabsosa, bulssanghan jagiya, eotteohge… What happened to you? How could this happen?" Her words fluctuated, her distress evident in every syllable. "wae ileohge dachyeoss-eo? I can't believe this…"
Her tone grew louder and more frantic as she stood up from the kitchen table, her chair scraping across the floor. Without another word, she crossed the room and enveloped Izuku in a tight hug. Tears streamed down her face as she whispered, "I'm so glad you're okay. You're safe now. Don't scare me like this again…"
Izuku, taken aback by her embrace, mumbled, "Thanks, Mom. I'm just going to clean up a bit and then… I'll take a shower and rest up. Love you."
"I love you too, sweetie." With that, she placed a kiss on his cheek as she clung even tighter, not wanting to let her son go.
As he tried to pull away, he heard the inner voice sneering, 'Smooth lie there, Izuku. But how long can you keep this up?'
The boy's taunts echoed in his mind, 'Yeah, tell her more. Keep up the façade. She doesn't need to know the truth.'
As he left his mother's embrace, walking towards the bathroom, Izuku thought to himself, "Sorry, Mom. Sorry, I lied. But you don't need to be involved in all this pain. It's better if you don't know. After all, you didn't want me anyway, remember."
With that thought, he headed to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Once alone, he sank to the floor and began to cry, his tears mingling with the rainwater still on his pale skin.
Inko, alone in the kitchen, struggled to process everything Izuku had just said. The icy detachment she had shown started to waver as she reflected on his words. Her mind raced, thoughts drifting to her own childhood and how she was treated by her mother. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to fight back tears, but they came anyway.
"He's definitely not telling me everything. I can feel it. He still doesn't look at me the same way he used to. Damn, I'm so stupid. Why did I have to say that? Why did I have to think that way? Why did Hisashi… Because of us, he's changed, and not for the better. I don't even know what to do. I-I don't want to be like her," she thought bitterly. "I don't want to fail him like my mother failed me."
As she sat in her room, she picked up a picture frame from the nightstand. It showed a smiling family—herself, Hisashi, and a younger Izuku, all happy and carefree. She traced the frame with her fingers, tears streaming down her face.
"I miss those days," she whispered to herself, her voice trembling. "Every single day he's not here, I miss him more. I miss the times we had when Izuku used to zip around the house, always making me worry but also bringing so much joy. Things were simpler then. Now he's just distant, never really talking to me. Whenever he looks or speaks to me, it's like he's speaking to someone else, like I'm not even in his eyes. Did I make the right choice? Should I have been more caring? Should I have been more forceful? No… No, that isn't it…"
Inko clenched her fists, the picture frame pressed to her chest. Her heart ached with the weight of longing and worry, and she struggled to hold back a sob. She thought of Hisashi and the life they once had, wishing for those better days to return.
'I need to do better,' she resolved. 'No matter what happens, I need to be there for him when he needs me, even if he won't tell me what really happened.'
With a sigh, she went to get ready for work. As she looked in the mirror, she saw a woman with plump cheeks and a fuller figure, no longer resembling the vibrant beauty of her youth. She touched her face and felt the changes in her body, her once charming appearance now overshadowed by stress and age.
"Guess the stress really got to me," Inko said with a sad chuckle, her voice carrying a hint of self-disgust. "I look so much like my mother now… I don't feel as beautiful or as charming as I used to."
As Inko went back to getting ready, Izuku still lay on the floor of the bathroom, softly crying.
'You can't lay there forever, so get the hell up and get in the shower before your mom starts to get suspicious,' the boy's voice urged him with disdain.
Izuku looked at him, nodding as he used the bathroom counter for support. He no longer had the strength to talk back to the voices as he just complied, taking off his clothes and looking at himself in the mirror.
Staring back at him was a boy with a pale, fragile body and damp, shaggy black hair turning green at its tips. His eyes were green, but the light within them had dimmed to a subtle spark. Burns and scars marked his upper body and lower abdomen, along with bruises and cuts that littered his arms and chest. His arms were blistered and black, dead skin peeling away, fingers bandaged, and underneath were fingers with no nails, dried blood clinging to what remained. His abdomen was similarly bandaged, hiding the brutality he had endured earlier.
His face wasn't as bad as his body, only housing slight cuts and bruises. The swelling from earlier was barely noticeable now. A scar from long ago, when times were simpler, adorned his eyebrow. His neck had a large burn that reached his upper chest, along with newly added burns and bruises in the center of his chest and back that still burned with pain. His legs were a mess, with bloody bandages wrapped around them, and underneath, a sight that would horrify anyone: blisters, blackened skin, punctures, and bruises. His ankles had crudely cut skin that was paler than the rest.
Opening his mouth, he saw missing teeth and bleeding gums, his teeth stained with blood.
As he looked at himself, Izuku saw other figures emerge: a boy who looked like him but demonic, along with a woman and man who shared similar demonic traits. They all just smiled at Izuku with pitch-black eyes.
As Izuku stared at the eerie figures in the mirror, he finally demanded, "What do you want? What do you want? I don't feel like being bothered right now. Just leave me alone!"
The demonic boy's smile widened as he taunted him, 'Why so upset, sweetie? Don't you want to feel mother's affection?' The mother figure approached him, kissing his cheek and laughing softly. She wrapped her arms around him, her presence both comforting and mocking.
Izuku's frustration grew as he slammed his hand on the dresser, shouting, "Get out of my head, damn it! Get out!"
Tears streamed down his face, and the wounds on his hand reopened, starting to bleed again. In a state of anguish, he began removing the bandages one by one. The pain surged through his body as he turned on the cold water in the shower. He stepped in, letting the icy water soothe some of the scorching pain.
Crouched in the shower, Izuku sobbed uncontrollably. The harsh memories of the bullying and Bakugo's cruel insults replayed in his mind. Each memory and taunt felt like a physical blow, and he couldn't escape them. The wounds on his body were washed clean by the water, but the emotional pain was relentless.
After a long while, Izuku managed to finish his shower, though every movement through his wounds caused intense pain. He bandaged himself up again and made his way to his room. Sitting on his bed, he lay back and glanced around at his All Might posters, action figures, and a picture frame of a man and his son, both smiling and happy.
Looking at the picture, Izuku murmured, "Good times sure don't last long, huh…" His voice was filled with a mix of sadness and disbelief as he reflected on how different his life had become.
'They may not last long, but neither does the pain,' the boy's voice followed, mocking Izuku. Frustrated and numb, Izuku reached for his bag beside the bed and pulled out his hero notebooks, placing them on his desk.
"Good thing these didn't get damaged; I've worked too hard to lose all this information," Izuku spoke with a sense of relief.
His hand hesitated over a pair of old, bloody scissors. A dark thought crossed his mind—end it all, be done with everything, everyone. The voices inside urged him to do it, but the boy's voice sneered, 'You're too weak. Just like all the other times, you won't go through with it.'
Trembling, Izuku dropped the scissors back into his bag and fell onto his bed. He turned off the light, his eyes shutting tight as he tried to block out the inner voices. Eventually, he drifted off into the depths of sleep.
The next morning, Izuku woke up feeling the familiar ache of his injuries. He took his time bandaging himself again, wincing as he wrapped the fresh bandages around his sore skin. He dressed in a dark green long-sleeved shirt, brown sweatpants, and slippers, then made his way to the living room.
Inko was already up, looking weary but determined. She approached him with a concerned expression. "Izuku, we need to talk about yesterday," she said gently, but with a firm undertone. "I know you're going through a lot, but you can't keep shutting me out."
Izuku looked down, avoiding her eyes. "I'm sorry, Mom," he muttered, his voice barely audible. "I didn't mean to worry you."
Inko sighed, her face softening. She reached out and cupped his face in her hands, forcing him to meet her gaze. "I'm your mother, Izuku. I worry because I care. Please, don't try to handle everything on your own. You don't have to."
Izuku felt a lump in his throat as he nodded, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. "I'll try," he whispered, feeling a mixture of guilt and gratitude. He knew he was still keeping things from her, but he couldn't bring himself to burden her with everything he was going through.
Inko pulled him into a tight hug, holding him close. "I love you, Izuku," she said, her voice breaking slightly. "Whatever happens, we'll get through it together."
Izuku clung to her, the warmth of her embrace providing a small measure of comfort. "I love you too, Mom," he murmured, feeling a fleeting moment of peace.
After a long, silent moment, Inko pulled away and smiled at him, though her eyes were still filled with worry. "I have to get to work," she said, brushing a stray hair from his forehead. "There's food on the table for breakfast. Please eat something before you go to school."
Izuku nodded, watching her as she gathered her things and headed for the door. "Have a good day at work," he called after her, trying to sound upbeat. Inko waved goodbye, and then she was gone, leaving Izuku alone in the quiet apartment.
Izuku felt a mixture of emotions. He knew his mother loved him; her hug had felt warm, her concern genuine. But the voices in his head wouldn't let him fully embrace that comfort.
'She's lying, you know,' the boy's voice taunted, echoing in his mind. 'She doesn't really care. If she did, she would see right through you.'
Izuku shook his head, trying to push the thought away. "No, she cares," he whispered to himself, a desperate edge in his voice. "She has to."
The female voice, softer but no less insidious, chimed in, 'She might care, but she's only human. She doesn't understand. She never will.'
A pang of doubt twisted in his gut. He wanted to believe in his mother's love, to hold onto the memory of her warmth and kindness. But the voices were relentless, sowing seeds of uncertainty. He scoffed softly, not at his mother, but at himself. "I'm such a mess," he thought. "I don't even know what to believe anymore."
As he sat down, the room felt colder, the light dimmer. The love and support he craved seemed just out of reach, obscured by the fog of his own mind. Yet, beneath the confusion and the hurt, there was a small, stubborn flame of hope. A part of him still believed in his mother's love, still longed for a day when the voices would be silent, and he could feel truly safe and loved.
Izuku Midoriya's heart was a battlefield, torn between the love he knew was real and the doubts that haunted him. The voices in his head were powerful, weaving lies that gnawed at his soul. But amidst the chaos, he held onto a fragile hope—hope that one day, he could believe in the love around him without reservation, and find peace within himself.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
Trooper_writer
Trooper_writer Im kinda late with releasing this chapter I've been pretty busy today so I didnt get to fully ook over the chapter like I normaly do before publishing so if you all find any mistakes let me know. Hope you all enjoy be safe and be loved. Trooper out.
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