Insecurities ~ Multifandom

•KamiSho• My Hero Academia

{Adopted/Fostered Situation}

When CPS deems it unsafe for a child to be living with their parents, they are put in a temporary (sometimes permanent, but the goal is to wait until the child's parent's get back on their feet so the children can go back to the parents) foster home. Sometimes, parents are too far gone and have lost all rights to having custody of their child, so the child is adopted and their legal guardians are their adoptive parents.

But of course, some sick people think it's funny to laugh at adopted kids because we don't have 'real' parents.

(Platonic ShoKami)

3rd POV

Shoto didn't remember most of it happening. He was so young at the time. He remembered being taken to McDonalds, remembered his mother taking them both to the bathroom. That wasn't too out of the ordinary, considering Shoto was so little at the time.

The only thing he remembered clearly about the trip was his mother, falling against the bathroom stall door from overdose merely 15 minutes later.

Shoto didn't remember how the cops got there, he didn't know if he was the one to run out of the bathroom, screaming for help. Maybe it was a janitor? Maybe a worker? For all he knew, it could have been another lady in the bathroom.

The other distinctive thing Shoto remembered was being put in the back seat of a cop car, no bars separating him and the driver. He was sitting in a car seat and the driver was trying to cheer him up, it wasn't working.

Shoto was sent to his father's house for several weeks - which was certainly one of the worst times of his life, especially being given the burn scar of his left eye because he chose his mother and not his father - until Rei was discharged from the hospital and given a harsh warning by a CPS representative.

Shoto had never been so happy to go back home, a one bedroom apartment in the bad part of town. He was so happy.

The next incident Shoto remembered was about 6 months later, when he had just turned 6. His mother started to neglect him, denying him food and refusing to wake up in the morning. More times than not, Shoto went to bed with a new cigarette burn anywhere on his body because his mother wasn't being careful.

He remembered sometimes his mother's friend would sit him on the hood of her car and rub cream on the burns to help.

Along with the neglecting came to knife fights.

They happened weekly in the back parking lot of the apartment. The landlord was never around to reprimand them.

Shoto's first scar came when he was six and a half years old, and was somehow slashed with a knife. Luckily, it wasn't deep or fatal at all.

But CPS was never called. No one ever knew about this and Shoto didn't know just how wrong it was because he was never told any different. He was taught to think these things were ok, because no other influence in his life said otherwise.

When Shoto turned 7, his mother was back on drugs. She sold the food, the silverware, tupperware, and plates and bowls. She sold the beds, and blankets, and all pillows.

She sold the couch and the TV. Anything she could. Instead of paying rent with the money - like they desperately needed to do - she bought illegal drugs like heroin and meth off street corners. She would shoot it into her veins in front of him, make him watch as she stumbled around while swallowing pills and anything else she could get her hands on.

Shoto remembered the day clearly. Wednesday, the 17 of April, CPS had been called while Shoto was at school. He had been confused when it wasn't his mother who picked him up.