Time Limit

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-2 years later-

My so-called father left that night two years ago and never came back. We have not heard or seen him once since then. Sometimes I sense my mother become apprehensive, always looking over her shoulder. 

She works hard to provide for us both. Even more to pay the many hospital bills I keep dumping on her. She works at the hospital as a nurse during the days and during the nighttime you can find her working at a popular cat cafe. 

It started two years ago, that wearisome feeling. 

I continued staying tired all the time. Permanent eye bags developing because of it. It was hard dragging myself through the day, never having much energy. Of course, I faked it in front of others. My mom has enough problems without me worrying her more. 

I didn't think it was really important. So, I never told her. But it all began to change.

My eyes began hurting. It wasn't noticeable at first. However, a couple weeks after my fifth birthday, I approached my mom. Or I think I did. I couldn't see her very clearly. It was a fuzzy blur and no matter how many times I blinked or how hard I squinted; it stayed that way. 

She took me to a doctor shortly after. They couldn't explain my lack of energy or why my vision was suddenly deteriorating. My body was apparently in perfect condition, and there were no indications pointed towards sickness. 

She has kept taking me in, sometimes to a different doctor for second opinions. My vision has almost completely gone by now. I can somewhat see light and shadows moving around that I assume is people. 

That brings us to where we are today. Sitting in a waiting room, waiting to be called to see this different doctor. Her name is Dr. Maki. Mom says she is real pretty. She described her to me. 

She has black hair that is pulled back into a low ponytail that trails to the middle of her back. She has violet eyes that radiate kindness, according to mom. She sounds nice. I wish I could actually see her though. I miss my sight. The world is so beautiful and now I can never see it. 

"Izu darling? Are you okay?" My mom's voice pulled me abruptly out of my thoughts from the past. I nod my head slowly, hating how it causes terrible stabbing pains to course through my head. Whatever this is, it only seems to be getting worse. "Are you sure, dear? You look like you might be sick?" 

I gave a dry laugh, albeit weak, at the irony of what she asked. "Yes mom, I am okay. I promise. My head just hurts a little bit." I lied through my teeth. I can hear my mom sigh next to me before carefully placing an arm around me, like she might break me if she is too rough. I hate this part.

I hate how everyone treats me like a porcelain doll. Something so fragile that it will break if you so much as blow on it. I hate this. I hate that I am such a burden. 

"Midoriya. Midoriya Izuku." My ears perked at the compassionate voice somewhere towards the front. Mom helped me to my feet and put my arm through her own before walking us over to where the voice called. 

"Midoriya?" the voice questioned, much closer this time. I could probably reach out and touch her. And without thinking, I did. My outstretched hand coming in contact with soft skin. 

There were wrinkles on the edge of her eyes and her mouth, indicating many years of smiles and laughter. The hair was silky to the touch, her lips soft and gentle. 

Suddenly my hand was yanked away. "I am so sorry about that!" my mother profusely apologized beside me. I don't understand why exactly. 

I gave a tender smile in what I hope is the lady's direction. "You are very pretty, Miss." My sweet remark procured a small chuckle from the lady. "That is quite alright! Anyone has a right to see, some people just have a different way of going about it. And thank you! You are a really sweet boy! How about we find you some answers?" her voice was light and cheerful, laced in kindness and compassion. 

Mom pulled my arm beside her, urging me to follow close beside her. 

-2 hours later-

 Mom is growing impatient. I can feel it in the air. In the way the air keeps whistling with her rapidly swinging foot. The way breathy sighs keep escaping her lips. Sometimes the whistling air went away, only giving away to the tap tap tap on the floor from her anxious pacing. 

They have run a lot of different tests and taken so much blood. I stayed silent listening to my mom's fretful whispers degrading herself, or my 'father', or life itself. She thinks I can't hear her, but I can hear it all. 

Dr. Maki came through the creaky door of our room. The atmosphere turned solemn. It must not be good news. 

"I guess we didn't get good news?" I asked the doctor. She shifted sharply, in what I am assuming surprise. 

"How did you know that?" I shrugged my shoulders at her. "I don't know. Ever since losing my sight, the other senses seem to be more acute. How someone is feeling can be felt in the air, even if someone cannot physically see that person." It didn't make much sense to me either, but I explained as best I could. 

"Oh. Well, anyway. Yes, you are correct. After many tests, we have found that you are suffering from a fatal quirk illness. I'm surprised you never got this answer sooner." Dr. Maki exclaimed. 

"Well, when you come in practically blind and quirkless, too. Help is not exactly seen as something worthy of me." I said before I could stop myself. 

I heard a quiet 'oh' come from my mother and the doctor sucked in a breath. I wonder what was so surprising about what I said. 

"Quirkless? But you are not quirkless." Dr. Maki's voice was full of confusion. I shook my head. "No, I have always been told I am quirkless." I confirm. 

"No, sweet boy. But I would not wish your quirk on anyone!" I cocked my head at the sadness in her voice. "What quirk?" 

"Your quirk. It is a life exchange quirk. You can exchange your life for someone else. However, unlike just about any other quirk, this is a one-time quirk. Once you exchange your life, you die instead." 

"Oh well, I guess that is a good quirk. Too bad I can only save one person." I said tiredly. Apparently, that wasn't the right response. My mother held her breath. "NO!" the doctor yelled. 

"You can't do that. You realize it will take away what little life you have left." I let that sentence sink in for a minute. Then realization hit me. 

"Little time. So, I am dying?" This visit is really exhausting. I am ready to go home, so I can listen to Kaachan. He talks so animatedly about becoming a hero and his dedication to become one is incredible. 

"Yes, I am afraid so. This quirk has a time limit. If you do not use your quirk in 10 years from when you first received your quirk, you die. It slowly breaks your body apart through the years. I am so sorry Izuku." the doctor's voice cracked at the end. I could tell she was crying now. And I could hear my mother sobbing from where she was seated. 

Yeah, I don't want to die. Dying is a scary thought when you are only six years old. But for the life of me, I could not garner a reaction to the news. I just sat there, my mind blank. 

"Ok. So, when I am fourteen. I think it would be better if I found someone to help and give them this life instead of wasting it on a dying boy that can never be saved." I thought it made sense. I am going to die anyway. There is absolutely no way around it. Like the doctor said. There is a time limit. I am literally a ticking time bomb. 

The way I see it. I am going to die. That is not going to change. I can use this quirk and die but save another person from death. Or I can waste away until I am fourteen. I am pretty sure my body will be so worn out and deteriorated that I will probably be dead before my body actually dies. 

I am going to die. Shouldn't I at least give my life some worth before it is gone?

Take My Life (Sick AU)Wo Geschichten leben. Entdecke jetzt