Life is Simple, Love is Not (Izuku x Miruko)

Chapter 14: Angels and Devils

Izuku heaved in panicked breaths as he stumbled into his apartment, the feeling of despair and impotent rage burning in his chest as he staggered to the kitchen and began tearing apart drawers and cupboards.

He thought he was past it all, past the grief and rage that characterized his childhood. Back then there was only one person that made life livable, but she's been dead and gone for a long time now. Not even a visit to her grave would pull out the figurative knife that was slowly twisting its way into his heart.

Finally finding what he was searching so desperately for, Izuku uncorked the large bottle of vodka and began chugging the clear liquid down in large gulps.

The burning sensation in his throat was good, it distracted him from contemplating what he might do next. He didn't want to think at all, he just wanted the heartache to go away. Damn the consequences.

Somehow finishing the entire bottle of vodka in one quick sitting, Izuku carelessly dropped the now empty glass container to the floor and let the darkness take him.

For a while Izuku's consciousness floated through the calming darkness. No troubles or worries to ponder, just the comforting blackness that whispered seductively about leaving all his troubles behind and floating off into oblivion.

However, the darkness was soon replaced by the familiar blur of memories that made him feel sick to his stomach.

He hated this part. Where his mind decided to force him to relive all the traumatic memories he had collected over his life.

A woman screaming in agony as she tried to free herself from the blazing inferno consuming her car.

A former comrade hanging from the end of a noose tied to the barracks ceiling.

A man in a biohazard suit bleeding from his mouth and eyes as a gasmask lay just barely out of reach.

A teenage boy holding back tears as he watched a military honor guard lower the casket containing his father into the ground.

If Izuku could have he would have screamed for it all to stop, to just end his suffering and let him sleep forever.

But his wish was never granted, and this time was no exception.

Waking up with a jolt, Izuku gasped for air as he struggled to sit up. Moments later the smell of rotting food and garbage filled his nose, and as he looked around he realized he was laying in a pile of trash behind a dumpster. Crawling out of the small mountain of garbage, Izuku tried to ignore the pounding headache behind his eyes as he took in his surroundings.

He was in a dirty and damp alley, probably somewhere in the city based on the sound of traffic emanating from the other end of the alley. Looking up, the troubled man was surprised to see daylight peeking through the gap between buildings.

A small rational part of his brain was screaming at him to take the situation seriously, but honestly Izuku could not give a single fuck that he had apparently gotten blackout drunk and ended up in a dirty alley like some alcoholic bum. If anything, a more cynical part of him was disappointed that he woke up at all. At least in the black oblivion he did not have to worry about anything.

Sure the PTSD-inducing flashbacks were not that fun to experience, but at least they were things he had seen before.

Slowly getting to his feet, Izuku looked down at his now filthy suit and patted his pockets. Surprisingly his wallet was still present, but it seemed that this time his phone was missing.

Shrugging uncaringly, Izuku leaned against the alley wall and contemplated his next move.

If only his mom could see him now. An alcoholic veteran with the emotional stability of a seesaw in an earthquake.