The Stray

Part 1(Prologue)- The Boot and the Booted

The link for the image above:  https://i.pinimg.com/564x/b8/b9/7f/b8b97fd292beb8b4afb850615ce47a81.jpg 

Thank you for reading this! I've been on a writing roll as of late, so please enjoy the fruits of it!

~ Nezumi

Prologue

The Boot and the Booted

When people use the expression 'booted' or 'booted out' they usually mean they are being made to leave a place. This saying usually isn't as literal as having a boot thrown at you out the door.

"And don't come back!"

The door is slammed behind Izuku by Akashi Ito, his mother's boyfriend, and all he's left with is a holey boot at his feet.

I stare a the wooden door and couldn't help but feel the overwhelming urge to cry. It isn't fair! I can't help that I'm quirkless! I can't help that I'm a freak, I can't help that I'm a Deku . . .

Honestly, he had felt at some point this was going to happen. His mother is so attached to that monster she would do anything for him, and the man hates him. He shouldn't feel so hurt when his mother didn't lift a finger to stop any of this, and it certainly shouldn't hurt that he now had no one. Because really, he's been alone for a very long time now.

Swallowing sobs and sucking in tears he turned on his heel and walked away. Kicked out of his house on his tenth birthday wasn't the best way to start his day. I mean, at least he had a roof over his head before, even if it wasn't the most pleasant one, now he just had the sky.

Perhaps the sky would be nicer to him.

~Time Skip~

'No. The sky is not nicer than the roof,'  Izuku thought as the rain kept pouring down and he shivered under the overhang of some building. His clothes had become disgusting in under three weeks and he'd lost several pounds. 

The only good thing was his stomach had shrunk so he didn't have to feed himself as much anymore. His food supply now was from garbage bins and, as much as it shamed him, stealing. It took trial and error, it turns out pickpocketing was harder than it sounded, but he had become a self-taught amateur on the subject. He once got a nice silver watch which he pawned off for twenty bucks (because it was fake) and had a whole week of nice-ish meals.

Desperation really can draw the best and the worst potential out of someone.

Today though had been interesting, not the usually dull day of just 'survive'. Well, surviving took up quite a big part of the experience, but it was different. I got in a fight.

Now I've always had Kacchan beating down on me, but I had never fought back, and now that I had to it was one of the most difficult things I've ever experience. I lost my latest meal to the older boy.

That gave me an idea. I've studied heroes for the entirety of my life, so why not implement the things I've seen into my defense?

The next five fights left me as a bleeding, bruised loser with empty pockets.

The sixth fight left me with pockets a little heavier than before.

The days passed either slowly in boring minutes of waiting for my next victim or pickpocketing or fast in the scrape of gravel underfoot and crunch of bone under fists. Those fast days could be dangerous though because sometimes those fights are against the quirked. My left side now bears a slowly healing burn from a fire quirk user and my right shoulder is scarred with a long laceration from the shoulder just to my spine. I was lucky to have survived that one.

Though I would be a liar if I said I didn't enjoy the adrenaline that flushed my cheeks and pumped through my heart during the fights.

I would also be a liar if I said I missed having the offal roof over my head.