A world that divides us mha/bnha

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『Maybe this is how it's supposed to be me in a cage with you looking in you know me on this side and you on that side』

Day twenty-six: family.

"Izu-nii?"

"Izu-niiiiiiiii!"

"IZU-NII!"

"WAAA! Kat- oh Eri, good morning."
Izuku rubs his eyes sitting up from his bed. What was he just about to call eri? cat? Maybe a new nickname his mind came up with. But that's not it, no, it seemed more like a habit long forgotten. Had he missed a memory again? Before any deep thought could proceed on Izuku's end the young girl bounces up again.

"Morning brother! It's wake up time!" The young girl beams. Her smile was so warm and bright. Somehow Izuku can only link it to his mothers. Even though she left him years ago and his dad has tried to help him let go Eri perfectly reminds him of that old past. And he's perfectly fine with it.

Even if he can barely remember her. The fading green hair, those big eye slightly darker like an emerald. He always wished he looked more like his mother. Unfortunately he seemed to be a perfect clone of his father. White hair, gray-green eyes, freckles and curly untamed hair. Izuku was a mini him. Some part of his chest ached at the fact.

He felt something was wrong. He was wrong. Izuku felt like he was lacking something. Something more than memories, people, faces of strangers that make his eye water with sadness. A deep longing to be found by faceless dreams.

And a father figure, a man he knew wasn't his father. This man was darker, kinder, gentle and patient. He was mysterious and quiet yet feisty and dry humoured. He liked... he liked coffee. The smell of espresso lingered around him makeing Izuku ease and relax. There was cat hair stuck to black clothes. And warmth. Familial warmth. He feels calmed by that smell, warped up in the warmth of a smile that he can only just remember. So many details about a man he no longer knows. Just another blurred face in his memories.

Maybe in a previous life.

It's not Important now even with his feelings that never fade he had his family and his father. Each shigaraki linked through light hair, two with read eyes, two with gray. Father, tomura Shigaraki, Izuku shigaraki and the youngest, Eri shigaraki.

They looked connected. Felt connected. Yet there was always the doubt of who was missing. A big divide that drew a clear line in the sand between them. A mother absent from the home. But his mother surely didn't bring both tomura and Eri. Izuku was only hers right? They weren't all connected through both parents. She didn't abandon them all. Where did those scarlet eyes that sent shivers down his spine come from.

Why when he saw them did he think of his restless nights. Those voices that called to him. His father soothing him back to sleep.

It happens when he looks at his own reflection. A feeling of familiarity. A warm touch, a cool voice. Smooth, placid movements. A life that's not his flashes before his eyes. He's transported temporary to someone else. Then Izuku gets upset. He feels deep anger, guilt and regret. He smashed the mirror on the floor cutting his hand in the process. Father never bought a mirror again. And any that remained stayed covered with sheets. A sign tomura calls respect for the dead.

Izuku felt guilty thinking about this. How ungrateful could he be. Creating elaborate fantasies in his head accusing his father of lying and drilling it into his mind that this isn't right. Questioning his father and how hard he works to raise his children. Dismissing his love. Izuku knows his father had a certain fondness towards him that tomura and Eri don't have. The two never noticed but Izuku can. He can get away with more. He can fight back more. He can do more.