Chapter Text
Fingers drag along the long hallways of white walls with scratches in it. Whether they were from old experiments or himself, he had his own fair share of fits in this place that he has been in more than he has his own home for the past five years. Maybe it was for the best. He wasn't a normal quirkless kid anymore. He didn't have the scars that matched a kid his age anyways.
Maybe it's for the best. He's never been a normal boy from the get go.
He should thank the scary man with white hair and blood red eyes when he learns how to speak a little better. He only heard voices for the first time two months ago on his eighth birthday and it felt cool, yet hurt so much. Not just because it felt weird to have this annoying buzz with a weird vibration in his ear canals. Maybe because he missed his dad too much. He wanted to see his dad again. He felt sad when he thought about his dad and knowing he'd never be able to hear his voice again hurt his poor broken soul. If only he was more normal.
He wasn't allowed to feel anymore. He was hurt if he did.
He wished his mommy was nice still... or at least continued to pretend to be nice. She never liked him. He wondered why.
"MIDORIYA!" His back straightened at the sound of his name bringing him out of his wandering memories. Turning his eyes away from the window to look up at the teacher with lazy dull green nearly grey eyes that held no light. The man was a pest that always picked on him for being the only quirkless kid in class. It made him want to gauge the man's eyes out when they stared at him with unfair malice, "Are you even listening?! You brat, you're just ignoring me at all times, huh?!" Midoriya didn't say a word, but he did tighten his grip on the desk, feeling his nails scratching into the wood underneath the plastic cover, "Look, I'm giving you extra work just for not listening!" Students snickering around him.
He just looks away, "Whatever you say, sir." A monotone voice coming out of his mouth. Ignoring the packet thrown onto his desk and red eyes that looked back at him while students began to whisper around the green haired boy.
"Everyone shut up! So we'll be going over fractions today." A groan and everyone was off Midoriya's case for now. The boy just goes ahead and starts working on the packet as soon as he feels the eyes are off of him. He can see Bakugou fiddling with something in front of him. He makes a mental note to go over the packet with Bakugou later. Being able to wrap an imaginary ruler around people, buildings, or items was far different from square roots... seriously, this wasn't even middle school work.
This sucks ass.
Biting his tongue as intrusive thoughts tried to manipulate the shadows he already saw out of the corner of his eyes over random students. Turning them into targets. He didn’t want that. They didn’t do anything. They aren’t his enemy.
They aren’t, they aren’t theY AREn’T THE ENEMY!
ENEMY ENEMY ENEMY ENEMY EN EMY ENEMY--
“Deku!” He’s brought out of his scribbling with a sharp inhale. Looking up to see the blonde on his lonesome, his lackeys weren’t anywhere in sight, “You alright?” His red eyes that were so prideful about being the best of the best were always soft for the once deaf and antisocial green haired boy.
Looking out the window to notice that it become a subtle orange hue. He felt a little stressed knowing he had lost a large portion of the day again. Quickly biting it down as he felt the phantom whip to his arms.
He wasn't allowed to be emotional.
“Yeah…” He looks down at his packet, narrowing his eyes at the scribbles of hands all over. His handwriting still wasn’t the best with his right hand, but he had no choice but to use it, “Just stuck on number 19.” It was a wonder how he even got that far when his mind was elsewhere.
Ignoring the way the blonde moved to lean over his shoulder, head almost pressed to his even though their hair was already poking into each other. Silent as he scribbled out whatever the blonde would basically whisper into his ear.
It was nice that the blonde had been so considerate after Deku offhandedly mentioned how his ears hurt when people got too loud. Even learned basic sign language for him as a kid when he didn’t know how to speak. Only been refining it the more academic focused he got.
How unfortunate that the blonde cared more about his image and being perfect on his high horse over his closest friend.
Not that Midoriya was any better. He had secrets. Too many hidden from the blonde. He knows it hurts Bakugou, because the teen had beaten him up over it and only left bruises on top of the ones he got the night during his route around the neighborhood trying out this whole vigilante thing. That was his 57th expedition into it.
When was that? Two years ago? Two years ago, he became a vigilante just months after he finally got out of those bastard’s hands.
Even with his superb healing, he wouldn’t have survived if that sweet miss with the long black hair and a grey streak in it didn’t find him in that dirty alleyway. Offhandedly wondering why the miss was so adamant on being his personal nurse after he admitted his future plans. She deserved a thanks for not prying into his past or how he got there.
With a slow blink, he draws another hand, but it ends with a cartoonish bone and goop just as Bakugou finished explaining the last problem, “That should be it.” Putting it into Midoriya’s bag before he could do it himself. Twirling the pencil around his thumb several times, the arrogant bastard scoffs at him, “Gonna get your ass up, or what?” Even translating what he said into sign language.
Probably just to show off how brilliant he is.
Midoriya’s lip quirked up ever so slightly, “You’re getting faster.” It was a small praise, but it seemed to get the blonde swelling like a little kid.
“Yeah, of course it is!” Smirking triumphantly, hands stuffed into his sagging pants.
I wonder why Inko didn’t care for me like Bakugou does.