* 1Q84
@pinkxlamb
he wakes up to a familiar, old white ceiling. paint chipped and ugly beige-colored stains here and there.
izuku blinks. once, twice, trying to get rid of the sticky from his eyelids. a hip-hop song blares from his phone on the nightstand, clear and jarring enough to disentangle the slumber from his consciousness. the blanket feels too heavy on his body and his joints are screaming at the movement. just another day in his life.
except, something feels off. like a puzzle piece missing. something... he just can’t place his finger on what.
when izuku attempts to sit up the pain registers first; the ringing in his ears, nails piercing all over his cranium, spots coloring his vision. the nagging from his limbs are no longer protests but actual warnings–dull pain on his waist, arms, legs, indicated by the splash of purples and greens on pale skin.
oh- right. he got his ass kicked by a villain last night.
a sweet scent lured him out of his room. mom is probably there to cook for him while he’s too black and blue to move. he really needs to take her to dinner one of these days for worrying her a lot... would tonight be a good time? if he can walk without groaning in pain, that is.
just as izuku had an apology on the tip of his tongue, what greets him instead is a mop of blonde hair in place of his mother’s dark green one. and although her height is quite similar to this girl standing in the kitchen, mom isn’t as... bony. could she be a villain? or someone his agency sent to take care of him?
“...e-excuse me. who are you?”
