-Time skip 2 years-

-Izuku is now 6-

---TRIGGER WARNING---

Izuku POV

It's been two years since mama was killed, and like I said to father, I haven't told a soul. People just think that she abandoned us after finding out I was quirkless. Of course, this makes father look like a saint because he took one for the team and is raising his quirkless, worthless child.

It's been hard since mama died. The kids at school found out I'm quirkless, and they became really mean. Kacchan is still trying to be my friend even though I'm weak. I really appreciate it, but I don't think he will want to be friends much longer. Recently, he has been acting really mean and has been pushing me. It makes the other kids laugh, and I think Kacchan likes that. He wants to be strong, so he can't have me around.

"Kacchan! K-kacchan, stop! Please!" The blonde haired boy shoved me to the ground and smirked. The group of boys behind him chuckled at the sight.

"Come on Deku! Can't you defend yourself?" He laughed and kicked me in the stomach. Gasping for air, I tried getting up, only to feel a heavy foot on my back, slamming me back into the pebbled ground. I could feel some of the sharper rocks digging into my cheek. Soon the all too familiar smell of blood filled my nose. Great. What am I going to tell father?

Soon, Kacchan and the others got bored with me and left. Kicking dust in my face as they were doing so. No one helps quirkless people, so I laid there as classmates passed by. Some stepping around me, and some kicking me on their way past. 

I grunted and pushed myself up and started my walk back. I had to get home before I was late. Father doesn't like it when I'm late.

Father had gotten more cruel over the past two years. He has started hanging out with shady people, bringing them back to the apartment and "talking shop" as father put it. I'm not allowed to ask questions, and I'm hardly allowed to leave my room. My room, speaking of, it's not so much a room anymore. After the incident, my father decided that since I'm not really a person, I don't deserve anything but the essentials and school supplies. He took down all the All Might posters and trinkets that littered the room and left the walls bare. He also made a point to remove the once comfortable be with a thin mat, blanket, and pillow. Aside from a desk lamp and the makeshift bed, there wasn't much to the room.

Father's frustration over my quirklessness never faded and he took out the anger on me. Making our basement into more of a soundproof torture chamber. The concrete floors were covered in dried blood and there were tools hanging from hooks on the walls. Father learned his lesson with mama and decided that the basement was easier to hide and clean.

I don't like the basement. I get hurt when I'm down there. Sometimes when I'm in big trouble, be likes to leave me down there chained to the wall for the weekend. He keeps the lights off and never feeds me when I'm alone down there. It's really scary.

It makes me miss mama. I miss her everyday. I'm trying to be strong for her. I really am, it's just.. so hard.

Before I realized, I was at the front door. I sighed and took a deep breath in, trying to prepare myself for the pain of the night. I unlock the door and see father sitting on the couch with his back to me. 

I slip off my shoes and walk towards him. "H-hello father."

He looks at me and scowls. As I reach the couch, I see an empty liquor bottle dangling loosely in his hand. Great, a drunk beating. I feel my eye start to water at the thought of the pain. Father notices and gets angry.

"You little prick. Why are you about to cry?" He stands up, towering over me. "What? Aren't you happy to see your dear old dad?" He smirks with the last question and swings the empty bottle at my head. The glass smashes against my head and the world goes black.

I wake up and feel the cold floor beneath me. The basement. I go to rub my aching head and notice me wrists in chains. I'm chained to the wall. With my arms stretched out, I can reach my head. He doesn't want me to protect myself. I panic a little bit at the thought.

I hear the door to the basement open and my heart starts to beat faster. He makes his way down the steps and quietly walks to his wall of tools. Looking over them carefully, he makes his selection. A whip. My eyes widen as a sense of panic overtakes me.

Walking up to me, he rips off my shirt, ruining my school uniform. A chill runs down my spine as the cold air hits my skin. Shaking, I slowly raise my head to meet his eyes. They are cold and unforgiving. He takes a step back and slashes my with the whip.

I let out a scream from the sudden pain. He gets angrier and slashes again. Letting out another blood curdling scream I feel hot tears run down my face.

"Keep making noise and you'll regret it." I knew that was my que to keep quiet. He took the whip and slashed my chest ten more times, leaving me hanging limp from my wrists. The deep slashes left my chest covered in blood, drenching my uniform pants in the same red liquid. Good thing my uniform is black or else these stains would be impossible to hide. I think to myself. At this point darkness is clouding the corners of my eyes.

I try lifting my head, letting out a small grunt of pain in the process. I look around the room and see my father drinking a beer in the corner. He sees me move and walks up to me again.

"You will stay down here for the week. No food. No water. No speaking." He walks away, turning off the lights as he slams the door.

A week. That's the longest time yet. He must have been really upset this time. I try to pull myself up a bit and the sting of the cold air hits the wide gashes on my chest. I hiss in pain as I move. Once readjusted, I try to keep myself conscious by reviewing the things I had learned in school that day. After a few minutes of that, a wave of pain hits me again making me bring my knees to my chest. Silent tears hit my open wounds. I feel the sting with each drop. I really hope these don't get infected. And with that thought, I let the d