Chapter Text
When you don’t have many friends, you tend to take on different hobbies to fill the time. When you also have a single parent who works long hours, you tend to spend even more time working on those hobbies to fill the silence of an empty apartment.
Or at least this was the case for Izuku.
He loved spending hours tucked away in the library where his mom worked, diving into fictional worlds and the rules of their reality, reading through the bookshelves until he knew just about as much about the selection as the other librarians. Hours easily slipped into days, then weeks and months spent hidden away in the shelves. When he was young, he spent most of his time at the library, and with the way things were with school and all, he’d spent many hours there with his mother.
But there were times when reading wasn’t enough; when he felt like crawling out of his skin and the only thing that could stop his thoughts was moving, actively doing something. The transition into junior high wasn’t easy, and he found himself with more time to think than he really needed. Times where his wandering around couldn’t be hidden, when his fidgeting took itself to a new level.
It didn’t take long for Inko to notice, and soon he found himself gifted with a membership to a nearby multipurpose gym. It took a while for Izuku to really work up the courage to go his first time. But he quickly fell in love with the parkour and free running courses, with the rush that came from aching lungs and burning muscles. He strained and trained entire evenings away to master the skills he was shown until he was finally granted a special mark on his pass that said he had permission to use the space and all it offered even on their off-hours. Izuku grinned all weekend after.
This was his new hobby. Inko loved hearing him chatter about the self-defense lessons or the new obstacles on the course he was working on, knowing that while Izuku saw it as training for heroics, it would help keep her son safe either way. The light in his eyes whenever he rambled about a technique or the quirk of the instructors made it all worth it in her eyes.
And running made him feel alive in a way that he hadn’t felt in a while.
It was different from the rush he got from analysis, different from the excitement of falling into a rabbit hole of research or debating with visitors at the library who didn’t know a thing about him, just that he was as reliable a source as any book. He’d always had his mind to rely on, studying was like breathing sometimes. This was pure fire in his veins, a real challenge that forced him to fall and get back up. It was living at its very basic, he thought. And it was very different from the way running from his classmates made him feel alive.
His time at the gym, running through the courses and on the tracks in the dead of night when the building had only one or two others inside, made him feel weightless. Izuku was free, unrestrained, and untouchable when he was running. The burn in his limbs overwhelmed the burns in his bruises and made every uncomfortable movement worth it.
It was worth it. Izuku seemed to be saying that to himself more and more often. When his thoughts were too loud to sleep, when he spent time locked in the bathroom wrapping up bruises and scrapes, when someone got especially brave and tried a new insult he hadn’t grown numb to, when his teachers scoffed at his efforts…. He told himself that it was going to be worth it. It would be worth it when he could become the hero he had wished to see. It would be worth it when he could finally prove everyone wrong. It would be worth it when he could face his mother and not feel like he was trying to hold back a storm from breaking in.
But all too soon he’s informed the gym has to cut their hours due to understaffing, so there’s no more late-night runs. He understands, but it hurts that his refuge is being taken away. Izuku still spends time at the library with his mom, but there isn’t as much of a point when he can’t run over to the gym for an hour or two while she plugs away at the system. So he finds himself in an empty apartment on some nights and he’d never ask his mother to stay up with him when she works so many hours into the night, but he’s restless and he wants to run and jump and swing through the air but it's three am.
Izuku ends up taking a walk instead, eyes immediately wandering to the close together rooftops of the bar and commercial area, tracing paths through fire escapes and wishing he could be up there. It only takes a week of nightly runs before Izuku builds up the confidence to actually climb a random fire escape onto the rooftop.
And wow, he wishes that he had done so sooner.
The air feels fresh and crisp in his lungs, the cool air pricking at his skin but making him feel so warm and alive. He can’t imagine what it would be like to run across the roofs, to leap from edge to edge, adrenaline pumping and free again. The thought alone feels like everything he’s been missing. He wanders over to the edge of the roof, looking across the gap to the other building, and sighs. He’s not about to start running tonight, no matter how much he wants to feel the way the cold air whips at his skin. This is very different from inside the gym where it’s bright and he’s familiar with the path. No, this is out in the city where there are far more people, heroes and villains, larger jumps, and long falls if he misses.
So Izuku simply stands on the rooftop for a little while longer before scaling down and continuing on his path back home. His mind races, thinking of ways he can run, how to be safe about things so he doesn’t end up in a dumpster with broken bones.
He’d hate to imagine how his mother would react when he’d have to call her.
Hey Mom, sorry to bother you while you’re busy with the catalogs but I kind of need you to come help dig me out of a dumpster? Yeah, no big deal just fell off a roof and definitely don’t have any injuries from the totally minor fall. Yeah, not happening.
Instead, he spends his newly recognized insomnia memorizing streets and alleys, mentally marking fire escapes and buildings too far apart to jump. After spotting a local hero, he takes note of the few patrol routes that occur this late at night. He feels bad for a moment with his obsession with limelight heroes when these newly discovered twilight and underground heroes go unrecognized for their work.
Inko grins at him when he rambles one night about all the different branches of heroics.
Izuku’s giddy when his first time truly running comes around. He’s dressed in dark clothing, layered to keep warm but also so he doesn’t risk overheating, and a scarf wrapped around his neck that he can tuck his face into if he gets stopped by anyone. It’s not much, but he’s far too antsy to wait any longer. He’s already warmed up, so he takes a few steps back and breathes in the fresh air he’s addicted to.
It’s not the gym. Running across rooftops and up fire escapes could never be compared to the gym. It’s everything and more, freedom and flying with the comfort of shadows tucking him away. Izuku has to stop himself from shouting out, restraining his glee to an aching smile as he runs.