stolen pencils, tiny footsteps

Go Back To Where It Began

When Izuku was a small child, he wanted nothing more than to explore outside of his little home.

But unfortunately, his Papa and Mama would forbid him from leaving the safety of the brown, bland walls.

Izuku remembered being upset at this, and would stomp his little feet, clench his pudgy fists, and throw a tantrum at the unfairness of it all.

"They're just protective of you," his uncle would whisper as he embraced his nephew. "It's a dangerous world, and you are so very small."

And Izuku would still protest. "I'm strong, though! I can handle anything! Besides, Mama and Papa would protect me." Then he would pause and blink imploringly up at his uncle with big green eyes. "And you would too, won't you?"

His uncle would smile and say, "of course. You can always count on me." And Izuku would.

The small borrower loved his uncle. The man was kind and had gentle yellow eyes that were as soft as the morning rays of light. He had white shoulder length hair that seemed feather-light and kept his left eye hidden more often than not. His presence was a relaxing and calming one as he would sit there and listen to his nephew rant on and on with an understanding smile.

(Izuku remembers fondly when his uncle told him as a baby, Izuku's first word was 'uncle'—and then would turn and laugh at his father's displeasure.)

But what fascinated Izuku the most, was his Uncle's long, elegant tail.

At nearly three times the length of its owner, the tail was the source of many hours of Izuku fitting beads and other items down the limb.

When Izuku asked just how his tail got to be so long, the man had said that a borrower's tail length was how you could tell how long they have lived.

"Then how old does that make you?" Izuku would ask.

Other than a wink, he never got a reply.

Mama was a healthily plump borrower, a stark contrast to Uncle's gangly limbs and Papa's stocky build.

She was warm and soft, and Izuku loved her hugs more than anything else in his little world.

Between Papa and Uncle's white hair, it was clear that Izuku got his coloring from Mama with her green hair and eyes. It was a very pretty color, he thought.

Mama was a bit firm, but she was caring as well.

If Izuku wanted a particular thing to eat, she would usually go out of her way to borrow some if any were available. (Though she made sure not to give him too much)

Izuku loved her soft fingers carding through his curls as he rested his head on her lap, dozing off more often than not. And her gentle kisses peppered onto his face.

She had taught him how to sew and craft his own clothes. (Though he could never get it quite as well as she could) And how to incorporate buttons and string to make tools that would help in everyday life. (Yet he was still forbidden from leaving their dwelling)

His favorite thing about his mother was, how strong she was.

Izuku would never forget the day when she had lifted a can of soda all by herself and dropped it in their living room without breaking a sweat—all because he was interested in what it tasted like. (Which was to say, kinda weird)

(And if Izuku would hang from her biceps as she flexed, well, that was his own enjoyment)

Papa, Izuku thought, had a rather unique appearance.