"Normal" - speaking
'Italics' - thinking/ writing
(Bold) - author speaking/ author notes
<Normal> - calling/ audio
(Normal) - texting
(Third POV)
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Midoriya slowly opens the door to his apartment, cringing as the door creaks loudly, bracing himself for any sudden attacks from Inko.
With the door fully open, he begins to hear rushed, sloppy footsteps getting closer and closer.
"Izuku you brat! You're late!" Inko spats, clearly very inebriated.
The male greenette quickly steps inside, closing the door.
"I'm sorry ma'am," Izuku begins, bowing his head.
"I got held up on my way home a few times," Izuku explains, keeping his gaze firmly locked on the floor.
Izuku was always scolded whenever he called Inko his mother or mom out loud. She always said he must call her ma'am or miss whenever they didn't have company; otherwise, if other people were around, they would act like the run of the mill mother and son.
"I do- 'hic' don't want your 'hic' excuses," his mother retorts, hiccuping in the process. She steadily leans against the wall for support, getting dizzy.
"I'm having a bad day today."
"I got fired from my job, and I don't ne- 'hic' need you to make it any worse," she continues with a harsh tone.
Izuku begins taking a few steps forward, hoping to get to his room without suffering through the addition of any extra bruises.
The green-eyed male makes it safely to the entry of the hallway before getting roughly pushed to the ground.
Groaning in pain, Izuku shifts to the side slowly, opening his eyes the moment the teen's mother slams her foot down into his head.
"Stop fucking squirming around," Inko demands, harshly.
Grabbing a fistful of his messy hair, Inko jerks his head up to face her direction, screaming profanities at the boy before ramming his head to the ground once again.
'It hurts, It hurts!'
'I can't move.'
'I feel something warm on my forehead.'
'I think it's blood,' Izuku judges.
He squeezes his eyes shut waiting for the pain to subside.
'This brat better not think he's gonna get away so easily after coming home late,' Inko judges in her mind, snatching the nearest empty bottle off the floor.
"Your goddamn uniform is all dirty too! I'm not gonna buy you a new one you 'hic' w- 'hic' waste of space!" Miss Midoriya screeches, raising her arm readying a swing to his head.
After hearing the clinking of glass, Izuku immediately shields his head with his left arm to defend from any oncoming attacks.
Inko swings her arm down as if she was wielding a hammer. The moment glass meets skin, the bottle shatters. Hundreds of small and large shards of glass scatter in every direction.
All it takes is a moment before the vulnerable teen feels a burning pain surface. He immediately bites down on to his lip in hopes to muffle any pained noises that might arise.
Inko suddenly covers her mouth, feeling nauseous, she rushes to the bathroom, tripping over her own feet.
Inko slams the door, kneeling down in front of the toilet, immediately throwing up.
'I don't think this much exercise is good for her head right now,' Midoriya conjectures in his mind, happy that Inko's alcoholic tendencies helped him out for once.
Izuku slowly sits up, holding his injured arm above his heart. Looking down, he sees a large gash on his forearm. Blood begins to flow out as the green-eyed teen stares intently at the crimson liquid.
Snapping out of his trance, Midoriya looks back up to see an open bottle of vodka laying on the floor. Most of its contents have spilled out, leaving a large puddle slowly spreading outward.
The greenette quickly shifts to a crawling position, being mindful of his injuries.
He quietly moves toward the bottle. The teen grabs the container, turning it upright, stopping the flow of liquid.
Izuku now has the bottle of alcohol in his non dominant hand, with the other hand raised, hoping to stop the blood flow.
'I'm gonna need this to disinfect the wound,' Izuku thinks to himself.
Midoriya moves to a standing position as quietly as possible. He gradually walks down the hallway to his bedroom.
He can still hear his mother throwing up. Her distasteful, hacking sounds echo throughout the hallway.
With both hands occupied, Izuku only uses a few of his fingers to open his bedroom door.
Rushing into his room, he immediately locks the door.
Izuku places the bottle of alcohol on his desk before grabbing his med kit that he keeps hidden in his closet.
(Izuku POV)
'This has always been my least favorite part of the day,' I think mournfully. I open my desk drawer where I keep some clean rags and bandages.
I place said items down on my desk and some off to the side in preparation.
I start off by using a few paper towels to pick up all the excess blood around the gash.
'I'll disinfect the needle after I clean the wound, but I need to get the shards of glass out first,' I conclude.
I open the small med kit I bought at a nearby convenience store, taking out small tweezers, gradually picking out all of the pluckable shards of glass imbedded into my skin.
Once done, I take a deep breath before picking up the bottle of alcohol and let a small stream of vodka stream out of the container onto my wound.
I suck in a breath as I feel the burning pain intensify.
I let the substitute for disinfectant settle in my open wound for a moment. I steadily hold an already- threaded needle in my wounded arm's hand and use the other to pick up the lighter I store in my med kit.
'I always have a few needles already threaded, just incase I'm unable to thread one at a moment's notice, such as a broken finger or wrist.' I think, reflecting on past instances where I was unable to do so.
Flicking the lighter on, I begin to clean the cheap, sewing needle. After a good, long, minute, the tip of the needle begins to glow red, signaling it's done being sterilized.
'Needles that are meant for stitching up wounds are usually curved, so using a regular, straight sewing needle like this is quite tedious, especially if it brakes inside my skin...' I think, remembering the first couple times I closed up wounds.
After letting the needle cool down, I clean off any soot with a paper towel soaked with the excess alcohol that fell off my arm.
Now, with the needle prepped, I wash the excess vodka that's still in my wound away with some previously sterilized water.
"Ok... ok, ok," I mutter, sighing in preparation of the oncoming pain.
'I'll have to do this with my non-dominant hand, so it might take longer than usual, although I have been getting better at using my right hand when it comes to these things,' I ponder.
Slowly, I insert the needle into my skin, angling the needle forward, and down, and through the gash, before I slide the needle back into my arm once again, letting it pierce through the surface of my skin.
I detach the thread from the needle, before looping the thread around my tweezers twice, pulling the other side of the string away from me to form a knot.
I tie another knot again, before cutting the excess thread. I release a long, shaky breath that I didn't realize I had been holding.
'First stitch done. Three more to go.'
-Time skip-
'It took a long and painful twenty minutes to finish stitching up my wound.'
'Of course the few times I took a good minute to catch my breath didn't help my efficiency. Although, overall, it was a lot less time then I anticipated.'
'My arm is a bit sore though,' I contemplate, letting my injured limb rest on the armchair.
'My pain tolerance has drastically increased compared to a few years ago.'
'Before, I would usually pass out because of the immense pain I had to go through,' I reflect, standing back up.
I sluggishly walk over to my open closet, picking out a large grey sweater and baggy black and green sweat pants. I toss the chosen outfit onto my bed.
Before I take off my bloody uniform, I grab a damp rag to clean off the splotches of blood around my face and arms.
Looking at my hair in the mirror I have hanging on my wall, I begin to clean off as much of the wet blood that I possibly can, before sighing in defeat.
'I need to take a shower, but first I need to put the vodka bottle back,' I conclude, throwing the bloody rag into my laundry bin that sits beside my desk.
Holding the empty vodka bottle behind my back, I quickly and quietly walk out of my room, straining my ears to pick up any sound indicating if Inko was awake or not.
'The bathroom door is still closed,' I begin.
'I see a bit of light seeping through the crack at the bottom. She must have passed out,' I realize, sighing in relief.
I continue walking back to the living room, before setting the vodka bottle in the exact same position I found it.
'Inko would know if she's missing a bottle, especially if there's a random puddle of alcohol on the floor.'
'Let's hope she thinks it just fell over and it all spilled out,' I judge in my head, making my way back to my room.
I suddenly stop, as something on the dining room table catches my eye.
Turning around fully, I'm met with multiple files and papers scattered around more empty glass bottles resting on the surface of the dining room table.
I walk towards said table, being mindful of certain spots on the floor where it makes a loud creaking sound if enough pressure is placed onto it.
'I memorized all the places I need to avoid stepping onto, it makes moving around the house a little quicker, especially if Inko was awake,' I reckon, moving forward, gracefully.
Once reaching my destination, I pick up the closest item, taking the stained paper out of the already opened envelope, curious what could possibly be inside.
"It's a letter of termination," I mutter under my breath.
My eyes widen in surprise as I continue reading the crumpled paper.
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********, **, ****
Inko Midoriya
***** Musafasu
**** *******
Japan-21095
Dear Midoriya,
We are informing you that your employment with ***** ********* will end as of today, November 29, 2020.
You have been terminated for the following reason(s):
• Embezzling company funds
• Stealing company inventory
• Working under the influence of drugs/ alcohol
• Inconsistent attendance
This decision is not reversible.
You will not receive any severance or unpaid leave.
Your company healthcare benefits are permanently terminated.
The authorities have been informed of your misconduct.
Charges will be brought against you.
Thank you and best regards,
Tominaga Tsutomu *
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'It makes sense why Inko was blackout drunk today,' I reflect, a small smirk resting on my face.
I'm brought out of my thoughts by a loud creaking sound and sluggish footsteps from behind me.
I quickly turn around to meet my mothers hunched over form.
Her dull green hair is knotted and messy, throw up stains are splattered on the front of her baggy shirt.
'How did I not hear the bathroom door opening?!'
I hide my growing disgust with a small smile.
The female greenette looks up to meet my gaze, annoyance ever so present in her glare.
"What the HELL do you think you're doing!?" Inko demands, pure anger coat her harsh words.
"What the fuck makes you think you can snoop through my stuff?" She continues, taking a few steps in my direction.
I set the stained letter back down onto the table, also taking a few steps forward.
"Answer me BRAT!" Inko demands, raising her right arm, ready to swing.
Something clicks in my head, I'm suddenly met with the great feeling of pure adrenaline and power.
Lowering my head, my hair casts a shadow over my eyes. I feel my smile widen.
Right before the moment of impact, I grab her wrist.
Inko's eyes widen in shock.
"W- what the fuck do you think you're doing, you... you piece of shit!" Inko demands, struggling against my grip.
I raise my head, letting her see my wide manic smile and bright toxic emerald green eyes.
Her angry glare falters, shock, and fear replace it.
Izuku feels an overwhelming feeling of strength smother him in all its glory.
Inko attempts to release her wrist from my grasp, only for me to tighten my hold, causing her wrist to fracture.
The sound of bone snapping, following the deafening howl of pain fill my ears, my smile grows even wider, if that's even possible.
Inko grabs her injured wrist's arm with her other hand. Her hand flops around lazily as if it were being held up by a single strand of twine.
I release my hold on her causing Inko to stumble backwards, tripping over the open vodka bottle I placed back down earlier.
"Do you even understand what you what you put me through?" I ask, venom lace my words.
"W- what are you doing" Inko asks, trembling under my piercing glare.
"I'm going to make you go through every... single... cut, bruise, broken bone, concussion, stitch you made me suffer through..." I explain, my eyes shining with pure malice.
I place my hand on the side of my head, shifting from foot to foot.
"Of course, I can't shove YEARS worth of torture into one day... but I'll make sure to make it painful enough, you'll be begging for death!" I exclaim.
"That sounds about fair, right?" I question, tilting my head.
Inko is left speechless, still holding her broken wrist. Tears begin to build up in her dull eyes.
"Ill take that as a yes," I conclude, giving her a closed eye smile.
Inkos eyes widen in pure fear as I walk towards her fallen form, dragging a chair I found tossed to the side of the room.
'She can't be awake right now, I need to set up,' I think, raising the chair above her head.
"Goodnight," I utter softly, launching the chair down, knocking Inko out cold.
'That went well...' I reflect, thankful the chair didn't break on me.
I begin to drag my unconscious mother to the guest bedroom, farthest down the hallway, propping her up against the bedroom wall.
I commence moving furniture to the back of the room, before draping extra white trash bags over them to protect the furniture from any... splatter.
I then place down large black garbage bags I found in the hallway closet, making sure to cover every inch of the floor.
I step back, wiping sweat of my forehead, setting a chair in the middle of the prepped torture room.
I look over to my moms hunched over form, smiling slightly.
"Let's begin, shall we?"
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* I just used a random Japanese name generator when I needed a name for Inkos "boss," Tominaga Tsutomu.
They have no real importance in the story.
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⚠️ The next chapter will contain explicit gore and torture. Just be prepared :) ⚠️
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I would love any feedback, like ideas for future chapters or any grammar, spelling or punctuation mistakes!
✨This is a LGBTQ+/ BLM safe space too! Any discrimination or harassment of any kind will result in a permanent ban ✨
Word count - 2598
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