How long had it been?

Days?

Weeks?

Months?

Years?

You can no longer tell when all your senses are taken away from you

When your locked in a deafeningly silent room.

When a metal clasp keeps you locked in eternal darkness.

When your hands and feet are chained to where the only thing you can feel is the metal, the hard cement floor underneath you, the quirk cancelling bracelets, and the stinging open wounds.

When all you taste is the metallic taste of your own blood in your mouth.

When all you smell is the same metallic smell of blood.

Izuku couldn't remember the last time he had seen the sun, hell he couldn't remember the last time he saw, anything.

The day his captors took him he had been knocked out, though when he woke up, he was chained, the quirk cancelers on his wrists, and the metal clasp over his eyes. He woke up afraid, cold, and tired. Though memories of what had happened the day before flashed through his mind, and he cried for hours, until finally he passed out yet again.

Though when he awoke, he heard voices, he didn't recognize them, but he listened though, he listened to their talk.

They bragged, they bragged about the kills, they bragged about how many they kidnapped, they bragged about how THEY killed his father.

Izuku was furious, he was fueled by anger, he couldn't feel his wings, he couldn't summon them, but he didn't care. He fought with all his might against the chains, he fought until finally someone came inside what he had to assume was a cell.

And they hurt him.

They hurt him badly.

Izuku didn't scream, he didn't cry, he couldn't even if he wanted to. The metal clasp kept all his tears in his eyes. Izuku didn't care about the burning pain in his side, head, and back.

All he cared about was the words that horrible man repeated to him.

"I wonder with your quirk, why you couldn't keep your father alive? Hell, maybe you wanted him to die. Didn't you? You're just a sick fucked up kid. You're happy your father is dead, aren't you?" The man taunted cruelly and finally Izuku screamed.

Izuku screamed out in anger, in sadness. He had lost his father. And he couldn't save him.

The torture went on and on.

Izuku couldn't tell if the man was doing this only once a day or multiple times a day.

Not that it mattered all that much to him.

Because whenever he heard that horribly loud and creaky door open, he knew.

He knew it was the man, he knew it was the man to come back and torture him psychologically, emotionally, and physically.

After a while Izuku grew use to this, he grew use to the abuse. Not because he kept his hope, kept his faith that someone would come for him, save him. But because he learned. He learned when to shut up, he learned how to hold back a scream, he learned how to be numb, he learned how to shut out the world, and everything in it, and just float in the icy darkness.

Now he had no idea how long it took him to get use to it, but the once searing and burning pain on his back, on his arms, on his side, everywhere. Soon became a small burn, though nothing more. He was used to this.

Izuku had no idea how long he had been there, he didn't remember what day it was when they had captured him. Hell, the boy didn't even remember what his own face looked like.

The only semblance of time the boy had was the slow feeling of his hair growing, though equally becoming dirty and crusty from the blood that would get on it.

Though on rare occasions the man or someone else would bring a cold bucket of water and what smelled like old barely scented soap. They would practically drown Izuku in the freezing water, while they sprayed the soap onto him. Then they would just leave him, cold, wet, and broken.

Izuku couldn't remember the last time he had he chains off, they would always cut into his skin, never sharp enough to draw blood, but painful enough to cause bruises.

And every so often, not hardly often enough, someone, either it be the man or someone else, would bring him food and a small cup of water. While the rations were hardly adequate by any means, Izuku was still grateful that it was at least provided.

Izuku had no idea what they planned to do with him, they never said, the man would only say that he would be perfect once it was all over with. Izuku didn't understand what he meant. Though he honestly didn't want to.

But one day, something changed. He had no idea what, hell he just started questioning if he had finally lost his mind.

Though when he heard the screams of terror and pain come from the people outside, he knew he was right.

Then the door opened. Not like regularly though, it opened swiftly, frantically, unlike normal when it would open teasingly slow, as if to torture Izuku more. And this time he felt someone rattling at the chains he couldn't tell who, though he guessed it was a woman due to the quiet mumbling she was doing.

Though unlike anything he had felt in a long time, he felt the bracelets and the chains fall off him, and within a minute he was being stood up by the mysterious woman.

"Izuku, your name is Izuku. I don't know anything else about you, but I hope to the gods they didn't destroy you too much, please remember your past, remember your family. Run, get away from here. People are attacking this is your chance run."

The woman said frantically as she ran out of the room.

Izuku merely sat on the floor in a daze of sorts, he felt free, but he had no idea what to do. So, despite his protesting body, he stood up and felt along the walls until he got to the door. He stepped outside for the first time in only the gods know how long. Then the screaming became louder.

Izuku didn't hesitate a minute, he began running blindly, feeling the walls as he ran waiting for a corner or something, until he felt them. He had felt the familiar feelings of his wings in so long, he had forgotten he had them.

Though he planned to use them now.

He sent out a few feathers to guide him, to tell him where to go, and little by little with his wings twitching at every sound, and with his feathers guiding him, and the smell of smoke and burning oil surrounding him, he reached another door.

He didn't know what to do.

He felt the heat of the flames coming for him quickly

But he was petrified of what was behind that door.

Though he chose to go through it, besides going through one door already worked today, it could quite possibly work again.

Once again, his feathers guided him as he continued walking away from the now burning building, and into the bitter cold. Finally, he reached what felt like an alley way, and his legs collapsed.

As he sat on the cold pavement, he then reached behind him to try and get the metal clasp off his face, and finally after minutes off pulling and tugging in places he previously couldn't reach, he had gotten the clasp off.

Though the minute he did he threw it as far as he could, trying his hardest to make sure it would never come in close contact of him again. Though for the first time in so long he saw the world again, he saw color, he saw himself, although he was deathly pale and quite obviously sickly and malnourished, he could only cry as he looked around him and tried to take in everything he saw.

Though immediately having to screw his eyes shut at the bright iridescent lights coming from a few miles away. He then realized where he was, he was in one of the shadiest and most dangerous parts of Mustafa Japan. He was in one of the places his father had forbade him from ever going.

Though once his eyes adjusted to the bright lights, he realized he needed to move, he had no idea if anyone other than him had survived the fire, he had no idea if they were looking for him.

So, despite his aching body that screamed in protest, he began to walk towards the city. Though upon reaching the crowded area he quickly realized what he was wearing, old blood-stained rags were barely covering him, it looked as though it used to be a long sleeve hospital shirt with long hospital pants, but clearly, they had been tattered to ruins.

Not to mention his arms were covered in cuts, gashes, bruises, and scars. His torso was thankfully a bit better condition, no scars but a noticeable number of bruises and cuts, though from how painful it was to move his back, he could only imagine the state it was in, and his legs thankfully each only had a scar or two though quite a few bruises and scrapes.

So, he looked up at the clear sky and spread his wings as he took off into the sky flying upwards until he felt safe. The air was colder up here, and his wings ached from lack of use, but nonetheless he felt safer up here.

He quickly scanned the area as he tried to figure out where he was.

He wanted to go home.

He wanted his father, but he knew that it was impossible, besides he had been reminded daily that it was his fault.

Though as a freezing tremor wracked his body, Izuku quickly took off in the direction that he remembered usually meant home.

His father had made him memorize practically every street there was since he was 7, and he has never been more grateful for it than now.

Though when the boy saw the familiar park, he immediately knew that he was close to home. Upon seeing the balcony Izuku made a nosedive as he then landed with a thud onto the balcony.

Though the minute he landed, his adrenaline had worn out, his body then screamed even louder that before at the searing pain of is wounds, and the freezing cold only added onto the burn.

Izuku quickly went for the door, though realizing it was locked he quickly scanned his thumb over the handle and was relieved when he heard the security system turn off.

He quickly locked the doors and forced himself into the bathroom as he drew a bath, though only to notice the water was just a freezing as what the man had used. Izuku's mind flashed to the horrible memory, the memory of being drowned while being sprayed with soap that tasted horrible and burned his lungs whenever he would breathe in. So, he quickly turned off the tab and went to the medicine cabinet.

Just as always, his father had emergency supplies in the cabinets, that of which he was thankful for. Though he noticed that a few of the ointments looked old and expired so he choice not to use them. Though he knew he would need some medication to cause the pain to be somewhat more bearable.

Though when he grabbed the medicine, he quickly noticed the bold expiration dates, and he wondered how long had it been? How long had he been gone?

So, he walked into the living room as he tried to turn on the lights as the house was pitch black, only to notice the electricity wasn't working. Izuku then had to take a few deep breaths to keep himself from reliving any of the still all to fresh memories.

Though his father was anything if not prepared. So, Izuku reached into the small blanket basket his father always kept in the living room and pulled out the flashlight that thankfully still worked.

Izuku then went one of the spare closets and turned on the emergency generator that his father kept. Thankful to see the lights turn back on and for his small world to be filled with the light and color he needed.

Izuku then went to the TV and turned on the news, though struggling with the remote for a minute.

Though Izuku dropped everything as his eyes went wide as the date showed up on the TV as the news reporter droned on about something, though Izuku tuned it out as he finally realized how long he had been gone.

(3 years? Its been 3 years? No one...... So, dad's been...... Why didn't they find me?)

Izuku thought to himself as his tears rolled down his face while his legs collapsed as he fell to the floor and sobbed. Though when he looked up once again, he saw that it was in fact midnight.

And it was his birthday.

(I guess I'm 14 now. Happy Birthday to me)