Izuku climbed through the bedroom window, as quietly as he could so as not to wake up Inko, closing it behind him, wanting to collapse onto the bed that has long since been his. He looked around the bare, white-walled room seeing only the usual; a clean navy-blue desk pushed up against the wall with the window; lacking any personal items bar a few scattered pencils and pens; with a black office chair tucked under it, the dark purple backpack he bought on his 10th birthday with the money he saved up from the informant jobs he did every now and then sitting on the aforementioned chair. The bed on the opposite wall, wearing plain blue sheets and his yellow abomination of a school bag, that his mom bought for him before his false diagnosis, sitting at the edge.
Izuku took the LED mask from his face and stripped off his black hoodie that had navy-blue accents running up and down the sides of the torso in parallel lines, to reveal the black tank top underneath along with his chest and arm utility belts filled with knives. Unclipping the belt from his chest he left his tank top on, not having enough energy to change out of it, and proceeded to undo the utility belt that rested on the curve of his hips. He continued taking off his weapons and putting his vigilante clothes in the purple backpack. Toeing off his steel-toed combat boots and setting them inside the farthest corner of the closest he stripped himself of his reinforced black cargo pants; copying the design of his hoodie; throwing on the gray sweatpants he wears while he hacks into camera feeds and police databases or just lounges around the house.
After feeling settled, and all his weapons and clothes were put in places Inko wouldn't find them, he looked at the time on his phone. Reading 3:47 am he walked to his bed and flopped on top of the covers. Only bothering to move under them when he began shivering due to the fact that his roommate turned off the heater in the room he resided in. The only reason she never got around to kicking him out was because he knew she was lonely and that Auntie Mitsuki - the only person who actually cares about him - would wonder where he was.
That night Izuku fell into a dreamless sleep.
Shouta entered his shared apartment at 4:00 am whispering a soft "I'm home" into the dark apartment. He knew his husband, Hizashi otherwise known as Present Mic, couldn't hear him due to the fact he was probably asleep and because Shouta found his hearing aids on the kitchen counter when he went to get a much needed glass of water.
The ravenette turned towards the hallway connecting the kitchen to his and his husband's shared room. Slowly walking down the hall, careful not to trip on any of the cats, Shouta made it to their room. Too exhausted, mentally and physically, he collapsed on the bed next to his partner, not even bothering to get under a blanket.
Falling asleep next to his husband, Shouta dreamed of the vigilante he's been chasing for 7 odd years.
"Useless. Worthless. Quirkless. Deku ."
The voices in his head repeated those same four words like they were a mantra during his walk to Dagobah beach. The sun was just rising over the horizon and what he could see of the ocean, painting the sky in pinks, oranges, and yellows; washing away the dark blues and blacks of the night sky.
For such an amazing view, bar the trash in the way, Izuku's mood was a pretty shitty one. Inko had woken up earlier that morning in a hungover haze. Usually, those types of mornings are uneventful but this time she was angry; for some reason, Izuku doesn't know.
The sound that woke him up this time was the slamming of fists on the old wooden coffee table in front of the couches. Stomping could be heard heading towards the bathroom, then after a few moments, the stomping headed towards where he slept. The next thing he knew, he was being dragged out of his room by his hair and into the bathroom. Knowing it was better to not struggle against her he let it play out. The water was already running and by what he could catch a glimpse of, it was on the hottest setting available. He wasn't sure, but he assumed he caught a glimpse of a bottle of bleach sitting next to the white tub.
Izuku internally sighed, coming to terms that this was the best he was gonna get from her. He never expected her to love him after he was diagnosed. That would be too much to ask for from her, especially after Hisashi had left. Inko screamed something at him that was drowned out by the ringing in his ears and the distant sound of his voice pleading and begging to be let go as he felt a rag, most likely soaked in bleach, scrub harshly against his skin.
When did she get him into the shower?
He distantly felt the burning water cascade down his face, arms, and legs, that were already stinging from the bleach and his clothes sticking wetly to his body. His breathing picked up and before he knew it, Inko had backed away in disgust and he had begun hyperventilating. Working himself through his umpteenth oncoming panic attack, Izuku watched - through eyes not his own - as Inko left the bathroom grumbling something unintelligible. He doesn't know how long he sat in the scolding hot, running water but as soon as he was coherent enough he turned off the faucet, picked himself up, and trudged towards the room holding his clothes.
Barely coherent enough he numbly pulled off his wet clothes. He tugged on a pair of dry, clean underwear and traded his shorts and sleep shirt for a dry pair of loose-fit black cargo pants different from his vigilante ones, and another black tank top, not wanting to irritate his bleach burns more than they already were. He didn't bother with pulling a hoodie over his head, instead, tying it around his waist by the sleeves. He pulled on a pair of clean, dry socks and shoved on his regular black combat boots.
Deciding not to leave through the front door in case she was out there, he opened the only window in the room and exited through there, closing it behind him.
That's how he ended up here, at Dagobah beach in a pretty shitty mood, and on a mission to find spare parts for some new inventions he's been meaning to make. Engrossed in finding his materials, he failed to notice a person walking up behind him until they tapped him on the shoulder causing him to jump up and spin on his heel in a roundhouse kick. He stopped his kick - just barely grazing their cheek - realizing the person wasn't that big of a threat besides the fact their muscles were sculpted well.
"Wow! Ok, that's on me. My bad!" the person apologized. "You're a feisty one aren't ya?"
Izuku stared at the girl, her pink hair falling to her shoulders in dreadlocks, weird goggles sitting atop her head. Dark green almost black cargo pants sat loosely around her waist while a coat of her own wrapped around her waist in a similar fashion to Izuku's. She wore a black and gray tank top that, like her face and the rest of her torso, was covered in soot, oil, and grease. He took note of her pupils that were in the shape of crosshairs and distantly wondered if it had something to do with her quirk.
"Hiya there! I'm Mei Hatsume, future C.E.O of Hatsume Industries! You can call me Mei!" She exclaimed excitedly, getting a little too close for Izuku's comfort.
"Right ok, yeah. I'm Izuku." He stated matter of factly.
"Right! Izutan—" he internally cringed at the nickname, not having one before that wasn't 'Deku'.
"—Whatcha lookin for? I've been watching you from over there—" she pointed to a spot behind her and surrounded by trash on all sides bar the opening where she could get in and out "—and you've been rummaging through the same pile of trash for at least—" she looked at the wrist of her left hand, which was void of any type of watch than glanced at the sun for a second before training her eyes back on him "—an hour."
Izuku's mouth fell open slightly at the idea of him being spaced out for an hour. Mei barked out a laugh at his expression, yet he couldn't hear any hint of disgust or malice laced within her tone.
"Don't think I was looking for anything specific," he shrugged to himself. "I just got lost in thought." He looked down at his hands taking notice of the dirt and sand stuck under his nails. He looked back at her, raising an eyebrow in silent questioning. She, however, didn't seem to pick up on this as she went on to explain how it seemed like he was just staring at nothing yet everything at the same time. Then the fateful question came.
"What's your quirk?" She asked excitedly, staring into his eyes.
He heaved an exasperated sigh this time looking her in the eyes and in the most monotonous voice he could muster while simultaneously giving her the most deadpan stare, he replied, "I call it: Yeet"