Chapter 3: Tattoos

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". . . Bye mom. . . Be back soon. . ."

And with that, izuku left for work, not once looking back at the apartment. . .

once izuku got to work, he walked in, feeling around his wrists as a girl with mid-length copper colored hair, and brown eyes, walked up to him, arms crossed as her sweater fell off her shoulders,

"midoriya! where have you been!? i hate the counter!" the girl yelled, as izuku put up his hands in defense, "sorry Dorothy, i was getting the crap beat out of me while my money was stolen" izuku replied, walking over to the counter

"oh. . . well ok then. . ." the girl said, walking away, letting izuku walk to the counter, which was a small boxed off section between the boys and girls side against the wall

"yay my favorite place in the world. . . not" izuku said, rolling his eyes as he sat down on a foldable chair and got on his phone as a muscular man walked up to the counter, "hey kid, does this place allow tattoos?" The man asked, "as long as the tattoos arent inappropriate then your fine"

(Fun fact: now I don't know if they still do this, but in Japan, tattoos are banned in places like bathhouses, as they believe tattoos are ties to the yakuza)

The man nodded before showing izuku his arm, a tattoo of a heart with a ribbon, a name written on the heart, "its just this, it's my fiancé's name" the man said

"aw that's sweet, and that should be just fine, is there anything else I can help you with?" Izuku asked, smiling, "just a towel, thank you" the man replied as he placed down 10¥, "of course, here ya go" izuku said, handing the man a towel

"thank you, have a nice day" the man said, walking over to the changing rooms, "you too sir" izuku replied, sitting back down

"Seriously, how do you do that?" Dorothy asked, holding a box of shampoos, "do what? Serve a customer? Just smile, bite your tongue and agree with them, unless they're just a jerk" Izuku explained, rubbing his wrists again

". . . Izuku, how is your mom doing?"

"I-. . . I don't know. . . Her dementia is getting worse. . . I might have her admitted if she continues to lock herself in her room. . ."

"But aren't those homes expensive? You can't afford to have her admitted, you don't have insurance"

". . . *sigh* I know Dorothy. . . I know. . ."

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