How's The Ankle, (y/n)?

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You and Izuku caught up with each other he whole ride. It was infinitely less awkward than your previous more recent encounters with him. He was a bartender. The place he worked at was very small, but had an upstairs apartment where him and his four other roommates lived. They also maintained the bar. A mysterious figure Izuku had never met owned it. Apparently, the guy was really rich but too sick to go outside. Doctors and nurses just took care of him all day. The first two roommates were the ones who took him in and gave him a place to stay and the other two joined them a year or two ago. He had in fact gotten into a good high school that had a course for quirkless people who wanted to be heroes, but he decided he didn't want to be a hero. All he got from the course were combat skills and muscles.

"You seriously changed your mind about being a hero?! Who are you and what did you do with my Midoriya?!"

"I can assure you, I am still the same Izuku you knew." he paused, concentrated on driving. "What the hell buddy I could have gone right there! You're supposed to yield for me, asshole!" he muttered under his breath. You stifled a laugh.

"Wow, what a dick. Somebody needs to go back to driving school."

"Right?!" he stopped the car in front of your apartment. "Anyways, what I was saying was that my roommates changed my mind about being a hero. They gave a pretty solid argument. So I didn't become a hero and they gave me a job at the bar they owned."

"Wow," you both got out of the car and Izuku walked around to you with your bike. You were silent for a moment more, trying to figure out what you were going to say next, a serious expression on your face. "You should have been a hero! All the ladies would be all over you!" you lightly punched his arm, laughing. He laughed too.

"Thank you (y/n)." he blushed and looked away, smiling.

"I should probably get going, I have a long night of bad dreams ahead of me..." you laughed nervously.

"Alright, bye..." he pushed your bike towards you for you to take. After you took it and started to walk up to your apartment, Midoriya spoke again. "Oh wait, I forgot to ask, how's the ankle?"

"Oh, uh, I just rolled it really badly. That's why it hurt so much...that night..." you cringed a little, remembering. "It was fine yesterday and the day before." you smiled at him. "Don't worry about me, get back to your roommates, I'm sure they want their ice cream!" you waved a hand dismissively. "Bye!" you practically ran into the building, flustered.

You walked your bike up the numerous flights of stairs and got into your apartment. You set it against the kitchen island, walked into your room, and flopped onto the bed, thinking about the past. I totally had an unresolved crush on Izuku in middle school...and it's coming back...oh no...

Your head shot up suddenly.

"Oh my god...he had a crush on me in elementary school, I swear it...! So close yet so far..." you rolled onto your back, closing your eyes and resting for a moment.

My ice cream!

You hopped off the bed and did a little happy dance into the kitchen to get your ice cream. When you got there, however, your parents were sitting in the living room.

"This place is a disaster (y/n)." your mother spoke, her voice as cold as ice. "You need to clean up after yourself better."

Shit. I have to move again.

You felt like a deer in the headlights and the room started to spin a little. Your heart was beating so fast you thought it'd jump out of your chest. Your mother stood up and took a spot at the counter.

"Why haven't you been coming in to work?" she asked, shifting her position in a chair at the counter.

"(y/n), we gave you this job and we can take it away—" your father spoke up, coming over and sitting next to her. Your mother silenced him with a simple look.

"I...I..."

"You're coming in to work tomorrow or else."

"I've been sick!" tears welled up in your eyes. There was no way you were telling them about what Reo did to you.

They'd be so angry...

"Riding your bike? Going to the store? Dancing? You don't look sick!"

"What if I'm sick tomorrow too?" you were getting desperate.

"You seem to function just fine when you're 'sick.' You're going to work tomorrow."

You stayed silent, waiting for them to go.

"Also, you're too old for stuffed animals. You're 22. Act like it." she knocked Benji off the couch as she walked out the door. You waited until your father had left and closed the door to move from your seat at the counter. You picked Benji up and repositioned him, tearing up. You took the jug of water out of the fridge and chugged most of it to keep yourself from crying. You sat on your couch and turned the TV on. You cuddled Benji and fell asleep almost right away. You woke up to a noise like your door clicking closed, the TV still on, and a terrible headache around 1 in the morning.

"Oh my god!" you hissed, your hand flying up to your eyes to block out the light from the TV. You writhed on the couch then fell off and crawled into the bathroom to find medicine you could take to get rid of this pounding headache. It felt like your brain was being slowly incinerated. It was agony.

You found the meds and took about five pills. It would take fifteen minutes for them to kick in. Those fifteen minutes seemed like an hour. Finally, your headache turned into a dull throb.

You woke up on the bathroom floor, the bottle of pills spilled next to you. You slowly peeled yourself off the floor then picked them up and put them away.

Dragging yourself into the living room, you looked at the time. It was 4 in the morning. You groaned. There was no point in going back to bed now.

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