Chapter Text
Izuku knew life was annoying before he can even remember.
Ever since he could remember, at that, was that his parents wouldn't stop their fights and bickering. And goddammit they were loud. It was a one way fight, most of the time although. His dad was a cheater, and it was a stupid player relationship. His dad would get in trouble by Inko for cheating again, go to a bar, get absolutely sloshed, and bang another chick back at her place.
Hell, he even got a women pregnant once.
Good thing she got an abortion. Izuku couldn't handle the stress of a ripped up family, while having a brother/sister.
But that was the last straw.
Inko kicked Hisashi while out of fashion said "Go enjoy your time with your new family, you fuc-"
Izuku closed his eyes and ears after he heard that.
But that wasn’t what was worst.
No, the fact was that Izuku had just came back from the park after hanging out with kacchan.
'Why can't I have a normal family like kacchan?' He thought to himself after he slipped away from said fight. But it hurt more than he had ever thought. His parents ignored him when they fought for god knows how long. He had to slam his door shut with all his might to not hear the commotion and probably another flower vase break. Just as soon as he lifted his tiny hands off of his small ears, he hears something unforgettable. "It's not my fault you abused me to have a son with you! And yet here you are acting like a brat who's toy is too boring now? FUCK YOU!"
Then the door slammed…
Inko stormed out after.
5 hours later, back with ice cream and sloshed.
Izuku had to lead his own mother to the couch. Following the half empty tub of ice cream he had to toss in the freezer. Apparently when she was crying to Izuku she fell asleep cuddling the remote. Honestly? If Inko hadnt came back that night, when she 'needed a breather from the world' in her words as she came through the door almost about to tuck herself under the entrance matt, Izuku would've been hugging the remote too. But just as Izuku went to get a blanket for his shivering-asleep mother on the couch, the thought occurred.
'I'm only 3. Just 3, momma. 3..'
He frowned. Seeing as nobody will want to listen to his rant and mumbles about how it isn't fair for a 3 year old to deal with problems that concerned fucking 40 year olds instead, he made some hot cocoa (or at least tried to) and cried himself to sleep. Seeing as this happened before, on a lower level, thank god, he could only hope momma would get better and daddy would come back so they could all be a happy again. When daddy was not making momma sad, when daddy was dancing like a silly monkey with mommy in his arms, when Izuku would make (which, in his case was attempted) the best rice balls ever, when Izuku would be tucked in by momma and daddy, when he got sung lullabies by momma, daddy said funny stories from his work buddies, and when Izuku felt safe and warm.
Now the warmth is slowly dying, with no one to feel safe about anymore .
He was silently crying in his bed, thoughts arose in his sleep, too.
'I'm alone, I'm sad, I'm hurt' With thoughts that Izuku wanted to go away, he had hope. Hope that daddy will say sorry to momma, say sorry to him for leaving, make momma breakfast so she would eat, and they would be happy again.
Yeah.
Happy.
Happy. Again. This time it stays happy.
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Daddy did not come home the following morning.
In fact, he was way off.
With a feeling of temporary warmth, he woke up, leapt off of his All Might themed bed (good lord, how did his parents tuck him in before?), and went to his apartment's kitchen. Almost tripping multiple times on the way is not a pretty look but he blamed it on his All Might onsie before anything else. He looked around almost instantly, in search for his father. Couldn’t find him, them he went to his mom's room shortly after. Making sure to know three times before entering, of course. He didn’t want to be the type of person who invades peoples personal space without permission. He didn’t find anyone there, just some ruffled sheets and an overtop blanket on the floor. His mom must've woken up, and moved to her bed. He then walked out, shrugging as he closed the door. Then he went back to the kitchen. Out of absolutely nowhere, his mom was making some breakfast.
The flavoured smells of rice, fish, and miso overcame the kitchen. Ah, it was a slow day. Usually, momma would always try to prepare something that could feed Gordon Ramsay, as dad said sometimes. Izuku had no clue who the man was, nor was he okay with the name. Whenever he tried to imagine this "Ramsay" guy, he always thought of this rich, snobby guy. As soon as he was within eye distance, his mother saw him. "Oh! Hello sweetie!" She gave Izuku a nice, warm smile but he could tell there was some edge seen in her eyes. Tear stains filled her cheeks, as she'd been crying this morning. She cleared her throught. "I'm just making some easy breakie, okay?" Izuku nodded, full enthusiasm as he didn’t want to see his mother sad. "Okay, Izu. Can you set the table?" Another overexagerated nod. "Great! Thank you honey!" Her voice managed to sound full of strain, before she turned her focus to the food she was making. As she lightly hummed, Izuku went and set the dishes down and chopsticks. For his mom, of course. He had the luxury of spoons, until spoken age. After he set the table, breakfast was done. He had went to the bathroom to brush his teeth, before coming out and seeing all the food plated. A fried egg, miso soup, nori, and a bowl of rice. The two souls ate in relative silence, watched TV all day with Izuku curled up to his mom's side, giving her as much comfort as needed.
It was a slow day at that, but none of them complained. Slowly but surely the sun went down, and they headed off for bed. A weird day at that, for someone's husband and father to dissapear into the abyss the day prior. Once they hit the sack, there was just another weird day for them to come.