Viridian

Chapter 3: Eraserhead

A/N: Hey everyone! Sorry it's been a bit. Things are getting a little crazy at work.

Quick thing. I know shit's really hitting the fan worldwide with this whole Coronavirus thing, and I wanted to let you guys know to stay safe. I'm thinking of all of you. The state I live in (California) just declared a State of Emergency, and they've found 8 cases in my county thus far. (And literally EVERYONE is buying toilet paper, for some odd reason. Like, every single store, Walmart, and Costco is sold out. like, wtf? Why toilet paper. As far as I know explosive defecation is not a symptom.)

Hope you all stay safe, wash your hands for 20 seconds under HOT water (100 Degrees F) and use hand sanitizer that's minimum 60% alcohol. Don't touch your face, and stay 6 ft away from people. You know, live like an introvert (or Eraserhead).

This chapter is dedicated to everyone who's struggling with current world events. I hope you all stay safe and healthy, and that for those of you under quarantine or lock-down this chapter helps relieve some boredom.

Chapter 3: Eraserhead

Izuku sighed as he casually strolled through the back alleyways leading to Dagoba. He'd already gotten into a few smaller fistfights with the local homeless thugs who'd been trying to sleep on his beach. He'd been homeless enough times in the First Run—how he'd started referring to his original timeline—that he understood the importance of protecting your territory. If he just let any old homeless beggar sleep on his beach, then he'd find himself dead fairly quickly. Or they'd take his stuff, which could lead him to death.

Either way, there wasn't much trust amongst the homeless. He couldn't afford to be nice. Especially when any little injury had a fairly high risk of getting infected and putting him out of commission. That was something he could not afford. He had to get into U.A.—no ands ifs or buts.

His unwanted neighbors—those who slept in the alleyways and parks surrounding the beach—were learning fairly quickly not to mess with the seemingly defenseless child.

And after last week's incident where he coolly stared down a beggar with a gun, well... let's just say that he was not only earning their respect but their fear, too. He didn't mind—so long as they left him alone.

He was now officially out of money, though. He'd made it last as long as he could, but it wasn't like he had any income. He'd gotten lucky with those chocolate coins in the treasure hunting gig he pulled—but what else was he supposed to do after winning a year's supply of chocolate coins? He sure as hell couldn't eat all that!

Besides, the recording of Naomasa losing his shit was priceless and still made him chuckle. Ah~ one day, he and the detective would look back on that video and laugh.

Probably.

But his most pressing issue now was food. He was able to shower at the local gym—the locks were dreadfully easy to pick—and he'd five-finger discounted all the hygiene items he'd needed. He did the same with light snacks and the like, but he felt bad stealing like that.

Water was easy enough to come by—the parks had plenty of water fountains that he could rehydrate at. Plus the dented hydroflask he'd found in his dump was perfect after he'd bleached it out. Seriously, the previous owner had somehow grown mold and decided to toss it thereafter. It just needed a good soak in bleach and hot water. People were so lazy these days!

Oh well, more for him.

But he couldn't keep stealing loafs of bread like some discount Aladdin. He needed to actually find a way to buy food. Actual groceries and stuff. He couldn't survive off bread and jerky forever. Especially since he was still recovering from his near-starvation in the apocalypse, and all his vigilante activities.