absolution.

- through fractured, timeworn glasses

after like weeks of procrastination, writer's block, and life, i FINALLY FINISHED THIS WOOOO :DD

BELATED 1k VOTE SPECIAL AHAHAHAHHAAHAAA

all special chaps like this will have a dash instead of a period. and prolly longer names, too. some will be canon, others will not. it will be mentioned if canonical or not to this fic.

this one is canonical, though!

BIG warning for this one, deals w/ a lot of suicide ideation 'n' the first bits.

(also sorry for thst long period of not updating, i hope this chap's long enough to make up for it like st leadt a little,,,,,)

===

Perseverance is an exhausting thing. It's when you can't focus but get through regardless, because time and life wait for no man. It's when you work so hard only to find it's for naught when the project is almost done, yet you keep pushing to go off with a bang and not a whisper. It's when you go and fight and fight only for your efforts to be laughed at, but you keep going to try and be that one ripple in a lake that changes thousands of rivers and streams for the better. When you have no motivation to move, but you need to keep going to survive, to live on until everything is better and accept no less or else you will explode.

Izuku thinks that he's running out of it; perseverance. His determination was snuffed out years ago, now embers of what could've been.

There's less of a reason to get up each and every day that passes so agonizingly slow. He has no friends so he has no choice but to watch hero video after hero video, analyzing and analyzing so that his mind keeps turning and turning and forgets his cold loneliness. The pain from his injuries doesn't help when hiding from Kacchan, especially getting up and thinking, does he want to do this again? Because he constantly works for his surrounding neighbors, all who accept his requests being elders, for bits of money that all go into bandages and burn cream. He doesn't want to break the "good, self-sustaining child" facade he wears around his mom because she works so much and supports him and god, he's already too much of a burden. School takes up most of the time he has and yet Izuku learns nothing because he already knows the information, his yearning mind constantly starving for knowledge even at home, enough for him to keep studying (but that's a lie, isn't it? He just doesn't want to think about the wrappings that cover his skin and the burn salve just underneath.) He needs to go to school to get a job -- a real one -- anyhow, yet he doubts with his quirklessness he'll ever get one.

Even his hope for heroes is wavering -- because why is there no hero saving him? Why does Izuku have to be his own hero? Why does he have to pull his own bandages, to cover his arms in burn salve, to calm himself down from every panic attack he gets? He's told the teachers, he's told other adults. He's told everyone he could like those stupid presentations on bullying and the heroes on the forums and news said, and look where that got him! Nowhere!

(This is almost torture, blood dripping in steady rivulets from his mind. Izuku is surrounded by people, people he watches interact with one another, giving gifts and hugs and playful noogies and compliments and kindness and love, love, love, yet his heart aches because he's so alone. He knows his mother tries her best and it's hard but he's been sucking this up for eleven years and he's so tired.)

(...He almost thinks that he's just spewing excuses, sometimes. Izuku's had more privileges than other quirkless people, after all. At least some education, a mother, a residence to call home — he shouldn't be so greedy.)

(God, he's so tired.)

...Is it worth it?

No. No, no, no. It is, it is worth it, he just. Has to wait.