Summary: Midoriya Izuku remembers the constancy of the forest engulfing him in its protective hold, just as alive as the organ beating inside his chest, whispering words to his ear, they sound like an invite to something far greater than the calm safety of his little garden. He's but a boy given a role bigger than his age, the son of a disowned mage and his mother says 'no' firmly like a wind threatening to grow, her eyes blaze green, her bad leg clings to the ground, he hears the sound of the wood creaking with it. Midoriya Izuku is but a mute trying to reach for something that keeps pulling him from the depths of his cognition, but even a mute like him desires to scream until his lungs gasp for air and his throat cries with thirst, to know the feeling of what his voice sounds like against his mother's disapproval.
