《Quirkless?》Part 4
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Izuku awoke, tired as ever, and like a sloth reached for his phone. The screen lit up, the time read 4pm. Izuku had slept for just under 17 hours. That, he though stretching, has got to be the most he's slept in weeks.
He frowned and began to get up. Izuku plugged in his phone, which was running on empty, and made his way to the kitchen, still in yesterday clothes. They clung to his body uncomfortably; like most clothes when you happen to sleep in them.
He needed a shower.
He kicked off his shoes, that he'd forgotten to take off in his zombiefied state, and returned them to the shoe rack before retracing his steps back to the kitchen.
It looked untouched, as usual, a visitor would never guess the house belonged to anyone- let alone a teenage boy and his mother.
Izuku made a cup of coffee, a guilty pleasure of his, which he felt was well needed and popped a slice of seeded bread into the toaster.
Once buttered, he fell into a chair sipped his coffee, and began to eat his toast.
10 minutes later Izuku rose, washed and dried his dishes then making his way to the bathroom.
He threw his clothes into a pile in the corner, and had a quick shower. He brushed his teeth, got dried and re-dressed ready to do absolutely NOTHING.
Izuku had already done this weeks school work, and he was feeling slow today, so he decided he'd just go for a walk. He picked up any dirty washing and put them on to wash.
Before he left Izuku noted that his house was barely a home. It was a place full of necessities, he could sleep, eat, wash but apart from that not much else. The house was always unnaturally tidy, it looked unlived in, which he admitted was true. He spent little time at home and most of that was spent in his bedroom, but at least that had a bit more character.
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He left glancing to the door beside his own, he avoided that family like the plague. The boy who lived there may have been his friend once upon a time, but not anymore, and never again.
Izuku didn't know where he was walking but he continued lazily. The streets were relatively quite; most people being at work or in school.
After a while, Izuku found himself at a park, he sat down on a bench ready to have a break. It was quiet there, save a few dog owners and their pets, and it gave Izuku time to think.
The school year was coming to an end and he needed to decide if he'd be continuing with online school or joining an actual high school. While he preferred the former, he though it could be beneficial for him to attend high school with actual people. He wanted to know if people had changed, if the system had changed- though he very much doubted it. Regardless, he sort of missed the routine, plus being left to your own devices get old pretty quickly, he often found himself becoming bored and that was just shit.
One thing Izuku was sure of, was that he would never, ever attend a prestigious school for heros. Especially like his wannabe hero neighbour. Schools like that pissed him off. Firstly, it was full of fakes, secondly, everyone there were heros or hero wannabes and finally, UA and other school like it were always in the public eye. With constant media coverage and classes like 1A, there would be no chance Izuku could blend it, plus he didn't think they took 'quirkless' kids anyway.
Izuku found the word quirkless quite amusing. For those with the label it meant a life of misery and suffering. For those connected to that label it meant lying or being the butt of everyone's jokes, and for those using the term it meant feeling superior. From Izukus point of view being labelled as quirkless was the end of your life, what he though was stupid was that it determined your self worth, intelligence, strength. EVERYTHING. And the funny thing was that the only way to tell, was through an extra joint in you toe. He highly doubted that everyone with a quirk has one joint in their toe, and was sure many 'quirkless' people had a quirk, like him, that they just hadn't discovered. Izuku hated the system. Hated it, but he wasn't sure if he would ever be able to bring about change...
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