Touch of Chaos

Chapter 22

[idk what happened, I just woke up and thought:
FLASHBACK SCENE RIGHT NOW IN BETWEEN TWO VERY IMPORTANT CHAPTERS...YES

so yeah, sorry not sorry lmaoo

Next one will be normal, and weird..]

Izuku was not a child anymore. At least, not at heart. He grew up too soon. But hey, trauma will do that to you.

Life wasn't easy when he was with his mum. But after she left him, it was hell. In some ways, though, his life did improve. He got to learn new things and was encouraged to pursue his talents. He was allowed to mutter all he wanted and was given a constant supply of notebooks to write his analysis in, though they always disappeared once they were full.

Izuku laid on the thin mattress, blood trickling beneath his skin and ribs cracked. There would be no doctor and no evidence, he would be healed in the morning, ready to get the same 'lessons' all over again. But he didn't want that. He was only 7, but he held a lifetime's worth of pain. He had to leave. His ribs throbbed with every shaky breath he took, pain flaring up with every rise and fall of his chest.

He formed a half-hearted plan in his head. He had tried to escape before. It never worked previously, so he doubted it would work now. He swung his wobbly legs over the side of his bed, ignoring the purple welts that he knew would only deepen over the coming week. His first few steps were hard, his legs shook with the strain, and it took all his effort to not collapse. But he pushed, or rather, snuck, forward.

He was genuinely surprised when he managed to get outside. They must have thought he was too weak to try and run away tonight.

Izuku hadn't felt a breeze in a long time. He was rarely allowed out, so he was sorely unprepared for the freezing air around him. Cold licked at his face and crawled up under his clothes, covering his skin. With blue-tinged lips and chattering teeth, he pulled his thin coat tighter around him and took quick steps away from the run-down factory where he was being kept for so long.

Distance was all that mattered now.

Izuku had no idea where he was, but the sound of bustling streets and car horns drew him closer to his freedom.

He didn't know what he would do once he was free. He didn't want to go back to his mother. She had made it clear that she didn't want him anymore. He wanted to see Kacchan. He missed his best friend the most out of everyone. A small smile pulled at his lips for the first time in years.

It was once he got on the street that Izuku realized it was Halloween.

Between the hoods of cold cars ran children in costumes, followed closely behind by their parents. It was a dark night, with only the weak moonlight and old lamposts lighting the street below. Izuku's heart raced as he walked down the old footpath. No one spared him a second glance, assuming the deep bruising that littered his skin was nothing more than makeup. He just looked like another one of the many children out to celebrate the pointless holiday.

He watched the children around him, with their toothy grins and bright eyes. Izuku was jealous. All he wanted was a regular boring life. All he had ever wanted was to be happy. He scowled at the cracked concrete under his feet, rage bubbling in his chest, or maybe he was bleeding internally. Who knows? He was bitter, turned cold by the years of torment he had suffered. The noise was driving him insane, laughter wasn't something that he was used to anymore, and it irritated him, parents calling out their children's names with care and love thick in their voices. He hated it. He needed to get away. Again.

He turned a dark corner and weaved through darkened backroads. Izuku wandered along the uneven cobbled streets that caused his feet to ache. He didn't know where he was going, and he didn't really care either. With every step he took, anger consumed him. He had been kept in that place for so long now he had forgotten what fresh air smelled like. It pissed him off. He walked further and further into the winding maze of roads and run-down buildings, trying his best to keep going as pain overtook his body. He turned corner after corner, giving no care or thought to where he was going.

Chizome Akaguro loved this time of year. All the stupid people in stupid costumes gave no thought to someone who would look out of place on any regular night. He grinned ferally at the number of the things he could get up to. The heroes always put a parade on for the kids. Wouldn't it be a shame if someone were to crash it and traumatized their little minds? He rounded a corner, his mind racing a mile a minute when he was interrupted by a kid running headfirst into him. The kid landed on his ass, and Stains mood soured. This little shit was NOT going to ruin his perfect night. He stepped aside to move past him when the kid collapsed.

He was sprawled out on the pavement, so still, that Stain thought him dead, yet one sharp jab from his boot proved him wrong. The kid gasped and whined, curling into a ball and shaking. He rolled his eyes at the pathetic child in front of him, ready to move on and forget about him when something caught his eye. The kid's knees were pulled up to his chest, but the basketball shorts he was wearing did nothing to hide the marks that littered his pale skin. He knew the difference between makeup and reality. He knew that wasn't some weird costume. Those had hurt.

He sighed and grabbed the kid by the shoulder, shaking him, "kid?" no response. He shook harder, "KID!"

Great, this was great. Fucking fantastic. Stain couldn't just leave the kid there to die. He had ruined his god-damn night, so he might as well do something with him.

He picked the kid up with a groan.

Why couldn't anything go well for once?