Chapter Thirty-Three

                                    

                                          
Izuku screamed, pushing his foster-mother away from him. It was futile, the hug she wrapped him in wasn't budging, but he still didn't want to be in it.
                          
Mrs Tomoko wasn't mean in any sense, the three days he'd been here she'd been nothing but kind. But Izuku didn't want her, he wanted his Unkie. So, he'd screamed and fought from the second he was ripped from the Court room, not even allowed to give him a hug.
                          
Now he understood why Shouta hadn't promised him they'd go home, because Izuku wouldn't. He'd been sent away because he was bad. Because he told the Judge his Papa called him useless, because he ruined his Unkie's reputation of being stern. Because he called his Papa mean. Because he had cried. Because he had shown the bruises. Because everyone thought his Unkie had caused them. Because he was getting picked on. Because he was too weak, useless, a Deku.
                          
His Papa hadn't wanted him, his Mama had left him, and now his Unkie was going to leave him.
                          
"Izuku, calm down." He screamed louder, sobbing for Shouta and bringing a leg up to kick when pushing wasn't enough. Before he could land a hit, stronger arms pulled him back, pinning his arms to his side and trapping him against a chest.
                          
He screamed louder again, throwing his head back and clenching his eyes closed. As Mr Tomoko sat on the bed, Mrs Tomoko knelt in front of it and held his ankles down, no adult saying anything for a while.
                          
After five minutes Izuku's screams died down as his throat became sore, and eyes stung when he was unable to cry anymore. Then, Mrs Tomoko spoke softly.
                          
"Deep breathes Izuku, good boy. Are you calm enough for an conversation?" He snarled, trying to use what he called his 'Kacchan face'. He didn't to be here.
                          
"G-Go aw-away! I ha-hate you! Go a-away!" The women frowned, though the look was more that she was disappointed, not hurt by the comment. "Now now Izuku, I know you won't like us but hate is a no no word. We'll speak when you have calmed."
                          
And so, five more minutes passed until Izuku's thrashing died down to exhausted squirms. Again, Mrs Tomoko spoke. "Are you calm enough for an conversation?" 
                          
With no room left to fight, Izuku let out a sob, finger absently picking at the mostly-gone skin around his thumb nail. He reared his head back as a hand reached to move his curls out the way - they were moved despite his display.
                          
"We understand you are scared, and confused, and angry, but you cannot act like this Izuku. Refusing to eat and drink isn't going to work, neither is breaking things nor fighting us. Whether you like it or not, this is your home for the next two weeks. The ball is completely in your court - if you make it miserable then it'll be miserable. Do you understand Izuku?"
                          
The blubbering kid's leg twitched in an final attempt to kick, and he let out a wail.
                          
Izuku wanted his Unkie, but his Unkie didn't want him. 
                          
"We're not expecting you to forget your Uncle, we just want you to be calm and rational. You're allowed to be sad and angry, but you are not allowed to put yourself at risk. So once we think you have fully calmed down we're going to go downstairs and you're going to have a drink and eat dinner. Then you will shower and have an early night, okay?"
                          
Izuku's mind shut down, body moving as he was carried downstairs, sat on a a chair and offered a plate of food. What was the point of fighting now? 
                          
However, his eyes widened as a cup of Hot Chocolate was pushed forward, fifteen marshmallows bloating already. Mr Tomoko held out one big one.
                          
Izuku lost it.
                          
They stole his Unkie's tradition - tried to replace them. And they had no right. Anger built up in Izuku, as he glared at the gooey food, face contorting. They stole his Unkie's tradition.
                          
They tried to replace him.
                          
Tried to make Izuku forget him.
                          
Izuku screamed again, flinging the mug to them, not caring as the hot liquid splashed on the floor. Air drew quickly in his chest, and he pounded his fists on the table. 
                          
"Fuck off!" 
                          
_________________
                          
Izuku pulled against the handle on final time, before dropping to the ground.
                          
He was stupid, so stupid. Mrs and Mr Tomoko had been nice - they hadn't cared he was Quirkless.
                          
They were nice, and he'd pushed them to relocate him. Now, he sat locked in a room with a simple thin blanket and pillow on the ground. He'd annoyed Sir and Ma'am, and now he was being punished.
                          
Izuku was such a stupid boy. 
                          


                          


                          
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Sorry this is kinda short! And all over the place, I'm trying to get in the mindset of a seven-year-old whose traumatised as hell. 
                          
Marshmallow now has a discord!! You're all welcome to join!! https://discord.gg/YRfAhg6N (PLEASE let me know if this doesn't work, I'm quite new to Discord)
                          
Also this book is coming towards an end, I'm not sure how much more there will be but the end is in view. Do not worry! I plan for a second book set when little Lettuce is a teenager and his challenge to become a Hero! I may also post little extra one-shots of events that happened within the Little Lettuce time line!