Izumi awoke to an obnoxious pounding on her door. Each successive hit against the hollowed wood became louder. "Wake up and get out here!" Her mother yelled at her, the sound of her angered voice transferred flawlessly through door. She dreaded her. Whenever she was awake, it was difficult for Izumi to even get out of the house. Which was why she always woke up earlier than most, especially on weekends. Although she must've been tired because of hanging out with Bakugou over the course of the week. She looked at the clock that sat on her nightstand, it was ten, four hours had passed from when she usually woke up. She got out of bed and made it straight to her door, not caring too much about her appearance. The pair of shorts she was in, did more than enough to cover her lower half, along with the big shirt she wore. She took a deep breath before unlocking and opening her door.
The face of her malice stricken mother was what first greeted her that Saturday morning. "Good morning, what do you need, mother?" Izumi was pulled through the door when her mother's hand shot up to her scalp. Her hair was practically yanked away from her as she fell to the ground. The semi curly, semi straight green hair coming from her head was strong enough to survive being dragged a few feet away.
"When were you going to tell me?" She asked, her voice rising a few pitches in anger. Izumi opened her mouth before a knee found its way into her stomach. She doubled over in pain as her mother continued. "You really tried to commit suicide at school?" Izumi's mother, who had jet black hair, kicked her knee with the sole of her foot. "You pathetic excuse for life," this was unfair. "You don't get to say when you quit," she bent down to be level with her daughter's face. "I do," a quick smack landed itself on Inko's cheek. Izumi slumped against the wall as her mother backed away, a shocked look was plastered on her face.
"No you don't! It's my life, not yours," this was the first time that she believed this routine of theirs to be unfair. "So don't think you can cont-" a cry came from Izumi when a fist broke her nose. She couldn't see the crazed look in her mother's eye when tears swallowed up her vision. A foot broke the fingers in the lone hand that wasn't covering her face. Life is unfair. She wished she could've done something about it, but life was unfair. She wished something would change, but life was unfair. She wished she hadn't been born, but life was unfair.
"Don't you dare raise your hand to me!" Izumi curled up into a ball and covered her head, knowing full well of what was to come. Things like this had happened before, but never this severe. Never had her fingers been broken, never had her nose been either. So she kind of ad-libbed what would happen, which is why she protected her head with her unbroken hand. Quickly, three kicks were delivered, all of them focused on her head. The pain was shared both between her arm and head, the same had happened in the past. Although she hadn't struck her mother, this was the first time she willingly hurt someone. She was taught to playfully hit her friends in the past, if it was necessary, so she never had any power or will behind them. This one was real, for her hand stung after delivering it, although it paled in comparison to the pain that was present every but her legs.
"I am your fucking mother," A punch landed in Izumi's chest, she could feel the crack of her mother's knuckle. That or she had broken a part of her chest cavity, "meaning that you should respect me!" She grabbed Izumi by the hair again and opened the door to her room, "now stay in there!" Izumi slid across the wooden floor as she was forced into her room with her mother's quirk. The door slammed behind her, it was difficult to breathe through her nose, so she resorted to her open mouth. "If I hear a single sound come from you, then I will come and beat you!" Her mother yelled from beyond the door.
Need to get outside, she thought, the only thing that could fix her up was herself. It was something she discovered while trying to use her quirk again. It was when she was attacked by the sentient sludge, all the pain that she felt from it gradually disappeared as she spent her day outside. Maybe if she could get some sun, then she might be able to mend her nose, and hand, back to normal. Which is why she forced herself to stand, she forced herself to be ignorant of the pain as she shuffled closer to her window. She painstakingly turned the creaky latch, taking her time with it to ensure that there wouldn't be a single sound. She couldn't tell what was going to happen if she were to make a noise. When the latch came undone she lifted the window with her left hand. It only took her a moment to crawl out; She wasn't on the ground floor, so she jumped down. An audible snap came from her knees as she landed, but at least she was free. How she'd get back inside wasn't something she was concerned with. At least not for the time being.
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It was relatively easy for Izumi to get to her favorite place, the beach was somewhere she often went. It was truly the one place where she could get some peace and quiet, even with the roar of crashing waves. She believed that they were rather calming, however. Plus, there was plenty of sun, so she could fix herself up in a matter of minutes if she was lucky. She hadn't been able to feel the thrum of her quirk since the accident happened with the sludge. The slurry of miasma had unlocked her quirk, but maybe it locked it back up too. But that shouldn't have been the case. She was able to use it the day after, although barely, which was how she healed the residual pain in her chest. So there was obviously something that activated her quirk, but she couldn't guess what. There was no way she could guess the trigger for her quirk, it was practically impossible. At least for now. She'd figure it out soon, she had to.
And it began with an intense feeling of anger, anger at how unfair the world was. How indignant it was to put her with such a heartless mother. Someone so profoundly vile that she poisoned everyone and everything she touched. The house they lived in was rotten, the poignant scent of filth-ridden floorboards drove her mad. The friends that she made were vulgar, enough to try and desecrate Izumi's pure body. The doll she created, a broken shell that couldn't stand up for itself. Deprived of a life, of prosperity...of emotion. She'd forgotten them all long ago. Perhaps as a way to forget everything good in life, so that she wouldn't crave it anymore. Yes. That was why the poor Izumi forgot. So that she couldn't remember, couldn't wish for something more. It was her way to be tolerant with the cards she was dealt.
It was the only way she could make peace with this wicked world. Nothing could fix her. Nothing could fix her in this indignant world. Not a thing. Not a soul. And she hated it. Rage would've been coursing through her veins if she could remember it. Her fist would've clenched if she remembered anger. She wanted to, but she would snap under them. Her emotions suddenly coming back to her would drive her insane. Madness dwelled within the tenebrous corners of her mind, to release it would cause her collapse, her breakdown. That must've been the reason, it's what led to shattering the doll. Forever breaking it. For it was irreparable, damaged beyond recognition. The sweet young child that everyone knew, was swallowed up by the plague that came from her mother. Everything. Everything around her had been infected with the sickening disease.
Which was why she screamed. Her fist pounded into the ground, scattering sand that flew around her. Her mind was in a daze and her heart was emblazed. The fire that dwelled within her was surfacing, manifesting itself as the roar of anger that came from her throat. No longer would she put up with it. No longer would she put up with the unjustifiable actions her mother performed. The fire began in her hands. No longer would she sit idly by, waiting for her life to fade when the flame of life dwindled away. It crawled up her arms and spread to her chest. The feeling of it was warm, inviting even. She could feel no pain from the invasive inferno as it covered her in it's entirety. Every bit of her began to burn, but it was unaffected by the flames. They invigorated her, healed her. She was seething, the fire a manifestation of her anger.
But the fire began to be choked to smolders when she realized it. The key to both her quirk...and her restoration. It was Katsuki. When she was with him, she felt something other than despair. Hope. It was the something profound to her, something unknown. And it began to change her. Slowly, the blaze died down as she calmed down. The realization that there was someone who could mend her broken heart calmed her. And it was like a sweet nectar. A sweet nectar that she grew high on. It was blissful.
She opened her eyes and fell forward. Her fists were clenched out in front of her; they laid still on the sand. The realization that there was another doll-maker that could fix her brought her hope. The sand beneath her became wet, the tears that streamed down her chin caused the ground to darken. Drop by drop, tiny circles of darkness formed. Beneath her legs, was glass. Pounds upon pounds of it showed the ecology of sand and rocks beneath it. Cracks were also formed in the glass, causing the sun to gleam through them. This caused the rocks to shine in different hues, different shades as well. It was like staring through a prism. But Izumi hadn't noticed. She hadn't seen the beauty she could create. Not for now at least.
She stood up and wiped her now healed face with her arm. Tears were dragged along it, causing streaks of fluid to be left behind. With a fiery hope emblazoned in her heart she turned around and began to head for home. There was only one thought circulating through her mind as she did. To collect her things and stave off the plague that was settling within her. Withering her mind and soul. It was the only logical thing she could think of, for running away would easily fix the brunt of her problems.
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And that was what she did. She ran away from the decrepit house without a second thought. It wasn't a home. Never was. Not for the 14 years she spent in it. But starting today, she'd never live in it again. It wasn't the best idea, but it was the only one that she could easily deal with. Which was why she snuck back into her room. No longer would she come to see this depressing room of hers when she awoke. She silently crept through her room as she collected her clothing in her backpack. A few shirts, a few pairs of pants, even some undergarments. They were all put into her small backpack. She flung it onto her back before leaving through her window once again. It was only then that she bothered to close the window behind her, there was no reason to come back here. Not a single one. From the present, past, and future, there wasn't a single reason for her.
She spent the day wandering the streets in nice clothing, a long sleeved shirt and some jeans were enough to keep her warm. Both through the day, and through the night. She chose to wear that clothing so that she could stay warm through the night. It wasn't particularly cold, but there was still a slight breeze that blew by. Which is why she wanted to stay warm as she slept in the alley, it was her way of preventing illness. But the other way was through intervention. She'd expected to be able to last one night without someone finding her. And it was quite possibly the second worst person to find her, the first was her mother. The second, who was pointing a flashlight at her, was a policeman.
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He forced her to get up from the filthy alleyway and into his squad car. He tried to converse with her, get some information out of her. About who she was, where she lived, who her parents were. But sadly, his questions got him nowhere. Which is what landed her in front of the detective's desk. She stared blankly into her lap as she stayed silent through his questions. It was only when he tried to rummage through her bag that she spoke up. "Please...just don't take me back.."
"Back? So you ran away from home, didn't you?" His gruff voice spoke inquisitively, as if trying to peer into her soul. She nodded, slowly albeit. "Why don't you want to go back? Did something bad happen? Perhaps an altercation, maybe a rebellion? Why is it that you don't want to go back?" She quickly looked over his upper body, his black hair was well kempt, although his coat had seen better days. Horribly blended patches were sewn into the light brown coat he wore.
"I just don't want to go back..." she paused, wondering if she should go into detail about why. She didn't want revenge, nor did she want her to go unpunished. Which was why she quickly went silent right after she spoke.
"Dammit," she heard his mutter, "alright," he reached down to his left and opened a cabinet, the sound of screeching metal wasn't too bad on her ears. He pulled out a small laptop and set it down in front of him. "Do you want to tell me your name? It'll make this process much easier..."
"It's Izumi..." she looked the detective in the eye, "Sato Izumi." She wouldn't regret saying that, for she learned something new after he used his keyboard. There was no one named Sato Izumi. At least no-one alive and living in Japan.
"Look, I know you don't want to go home, but can you at least give me a real name? I'm not one that takes pranks lightly," Izumi raised her eyebrow, clearly confused by what he said. How could her name not be real?
"It's my name sir," she pointed to her backpack, "my school ID is in the small pocket on the top. My name is printed on it," he skeptically opened the pocket and pulled out her ID. To his surprise her actual name was on it, "see? It's my name, sir..."
He hummed, "well, this just got interesting then." She didn't know what he could mean by that. "Tell me, do you know your father's last name?" Izumi shook her head, "alright, then what is your mother's full name?"
"It's Inko Sato," Izumi said before laying her hands on top of one another in her lap. The clicking of keyboard keys came from him before he shook his head.
"This just keeps getting more interesting, 'cause your mother is someone who also doesn't exist. Would you perhaps know why?" The detective shook his head again, "you probably wouldn't know so I'll just tell you. There's only two reasons for this," his palm was raised to the ceiling. "First off, you might be registered as a citizen under your father's last name, though that is unlikely since you don't even know what it is. Second, and this could be a stretch," he took a breath, one that seemed to be apologizing. "You do not belong to this 'Inko,' meaning you aren't her child." Izumi's fists clenched as she couldn't believe what she was hearing, "though I'd have to look through our missing persons cases for you. In the meantime, can you please wait right there? I'll be back in a bit," he got out of his chair and made his way to a door