-Izuku-
He has never done this before, but he will try his best. The metal rod in his hand radiates heat, warming his hands. The blonde takes off his shirt and shoves the fabric in his mouth, glaring at Izuku like it's his fault that he has to do this.
He focuses on the mark right in the middle of his chest. It's a lot bigger than he expected. It's a crescent shape, with a hand holding a purple flower. Izuku recognizes the symbol, and the need to get rid of it intensifies. His eyes go back to the blondes.
"Are you ready?"
He nods, grumbling some things that Izuku can't understand thanks to the balled-up shirt in his mouth, though he's sure he's swearing. He can hear shuffling and things being moved from inside of the house, and he assumes it's just the panicking man from before.
Other than that, the alleyway is silent, almost eerily so. He's never had a place be so quiet. Back home, there is always the sound of wind and the snow slamming into the house. It makes him feel uneasy. He focuses back on the task at hand. He can do this.
He doesn't have to hold it there for long, he just needs to do it long enough that the marking leaves and is covered by a scar. The blonde yells something else at him, harsher this time, probably telling him to hurry the hell up. Izuku counts down in his head.
One, he brings the rod closer, the blonde watching it closely. Two, he adjusts it so that its right above the scar. Three, he pushes forward and touches skin. The reaction is instant, muffled screams and the blondes' eyes clenched closed.
The sounds echo in the alleyway, and the banging from inside of the house intensifies. He guesses it must sound like he's torturing the blonde to an outsider's ears. Izuku makes sure to adjust the hot metal, making sure to get every part of the mark.
The smell of burnt flesh reaches his nose, and Fenrir's nose twitches. The blonde's chest is rising and falling quickly, only making the metal push against him over and over. His screams die off and Izuku doesn't have to move the metal away from him, because by then, the blonde is on his side on the ground, eyes half closed.
He looks like he's about to pass out, his body trembling and sweating. Izuku silently congratulates him on getting through it, putting the metal rod next to the fire. He isn't out of the woods yet. He stands and goes over to the sled, getting the medical supplies to start working on the blonde's wound.
—-
"Yes, I'm sure it was him!"
Mr. Daisuke looks up at the two men, his forehead slightly sweating. He has worked for the Paranormal Liberation Front for years, so he holds himself to be one of the more experienced members compared to everyone else.
Thats why they put him in charge of this branch of the slave trade after all! So when he heard that some of their best men were killed scouting the area west of here, he was on high alert. After all, he's been alive long enough to know someone killing their members is a matter that must be dealt with.
Using his amazing deduction skills, he concluded that the person must either be headed in the opposite direction, or towards this town. His luck was on his side, because he spotted the perpetrator.
A green haired boy, who was covered head to toe in clothing that would only be needed to survive in those snowstorms. Then, he started to ask questions, and he knew for certain. The fear of the organizations runs deep in these parts, no one would be so careless to even utter a word about them!
"He couldn't have gotten far! Find him and have him killed this instant!"
—
Izuku works on stopping the bleeding and cleaning everything up. The blonde wakes up, staring up at the sky, a blank expression on his face. Izuku figures he must be tired from just having his chest scarred for life and doesn't say anything.
The silence is back since there is no longer any screaming or even the thudding from inside the house. That uneasy feeling is back, and he shifts, getting on his knees and keeping his eyes on the wound. Seconds tick by. Maybe he should say something? But what?
Anything for some noise. He wouldn't mind Fenrir barking or something, but the wolf is curled up and sleeping. Why is it so quiet anyway? With a place with so many people, there should always be noise coming from somewhere, right? Why-
"What's your name."
Izuku looks at the blonde, who is still looking at the sky. He glances at him and gives him a glare before looking back.
"Izuku."
"No last name?"
"I don't know it."
The blonde stays quiet for a second. Izuku talks again.
"What's yours?"
"Katsuki Bakugou."
"Nice to meet you Ka-''
Izuku stops, trying to get his tongue to make the right sound.
"Kat-''
Bakugou looks at him, an eyebrow raised.
"Katsuki Bakugou."
Izuku tries to say it slowly this time.
"Ka...ts..."
He can't say the rest, and he just shuts his mouth, focusing. Bakugou just stares at him, before snickering slightly, laying back down.
"Wow. Didn't your fucking mom teach you how to speak?"
Izuku feels his chest tighten at the mention of his mother, and turns away from Bakugou, done patching up the scar.
"She did. We didn't get that far."
Izuku tries to recall the times that Mr. Toshinori tried teaching him names when he was nine, though it didn't go so well. Despite the wound being completely dressed, Bakugou doesn't get up.
"Clearly. I'd rather you not say my name if you're going to fucking butcher it, shitty Deku."
"Deku?"
"Yeah, Deku. It means useless."
Izuku should have known it was another insult.
"I'm not useless."
YOU ARE READING
I'll be your island in the raging storm
Fanfiction- Warning, Super slow burn - Izuku has lived a hard life trying to survive in the cold winter mountains. They are all he has known. Katsuki has lived a hard life trying to survive in the cold cages of the black market. They are all he has known. ...
