Chapter Text
The smell of rotting garbage and the icy sea air fill Izuku’s lungs. Sitting on a rusty old shipping container, he takes shallow breaths, tasting the salt and brine coming up from the sea to greet him. He swings his legs and stares listlessly into the open ocean. Ever since he was a child, he was fascinated by it. How it could be gentle, violent, unpredictable, steady, clear and crystalline, dark and abyssal; all these things at once.
His eyes follow the tide. Back and forth, back and forth. He sits there for what feels like an eternity, until the sun no longer warms his face, and the spray that was once pleasant and cooling now feels glacial, biting at his extremities. Still, he makes no move to leave. The sea, which had already been a deep, dark shade of blue in the day now looked impossibly black in the night. Izuku tilts back his head to look up at the airspace. He sees a smattering of stars, most of them blotted out by the city lights, and a full, bright moon.
Izuku always seemed to gravitate to the sea on nights like this. When the bruises and cuts he hid under his uniform ached and stung just a little more than usual. When his complete lack of companions bothered him a little more than usual. When his empty apartment seemed just slightly more quiet, empty, and cold than usual. He came here.
He trekked through heaps of junk, feeling the slightest bit of camaraderie with these discarded possessions. Just like him, they were deemed useless, abandoned, repudiated and cursed to a life of solitude and filth. The smell wasn’t his favorite, though.
Even so, the sight, smell, and sound of the sea always seemed to calm him. The tranquil and steady sound of the waves climbing up and down the shore was like a siren’s song, seeming to call to him. At times, the urge to go in and allow it to swallow him was impossible to ignore. He only got as far as touching the rocky shore before the icy spray of water brought him back to reality.
Tonight, it seemed as though that wouldn’t be enough to deter him. Izuku takes a deep breath and, clutching the carefully handwritten note in his hand, hops off the shipping container. He approaches the shore, not deterred by the harsh wind and cold sea spray. He takes off his shoes and jacket, feeling the cold soak all the way to his bones. Shivering, he places both items on a large boulder, hoping they wouldn’t be washed away come high tide. He tucks the note into the shoes and, taking a deep breath, turns to face the vast, dark ocean.
Oddly enough, despite his shivering frame and his numb fingers, Izuku did not feel afraid. He didn’t feel any kind of dread or derision. No doubt plagued his mind. When he stepped into the water, rather than feeling shocked at its chill, reveled in the feeling of his entire body slowly going numb. He felt as if he was finally coming home after being away for a long, long time.
He takes a few steps deeper into the water. The water laps at his stomach now. He no longer feels the cold, though his body still shivers and quakes. Another step. His gait is steady. The water is in his chest. He can no longer smell the foul rot of the trash-filled beach behind him. Another step. The water reaches his chin. He feels a calm wash over him. He closes his eyes, listens for one last time, breathes in the salty air one last time, revels in his last breath, and plunges himself underwater.
Izuku’s relief lasts for a blissful second before he is wrenched up and out of the water by a strong arm. He looks up to see a blurry figure of a man and stays conscious long enough to cry out in disappointment before passing out and falling directly into the man’s arms.