Chapter Text
“So it's called PISS, right? It stands for Places Izuku Sleeps Stash. Whenever one of us finds Midoriya passed out somewhere weird we take a pic and add it to the stash. This one’s from last week.”
He opened the photo album on the computer screen and clicked on the file, revealing a grainy photo of a pajama-clad Izuku sound asleep in a laundry machine. He began to flip through the photos, and Shinsou stopped his scrolling on a photo of Izuku half buried under a broken wooden shelf, a stuffed animal fallen on top of his head as if it perched there on purpose.
“Wait, this was from the kiosk robbery three months ago. Are some of these places he actually ‘passed out’ passed out, not just fell asleep?”
Shinsou shrugged and said, “If it's PISS material it's PISS material.” as if the matter was now closed.
The purple-haired KOPISS (Keeper Of PISS) continued as he scrolled through the photos.
“A while back there was a scandal when someone with an illusion quirk pretended to be Izuku for the sake of getting a great photo to submit to the collection.” he scoffed, “As if I could be fooled that easily.”
One of the photos showed a younger Izuku, wearing a primary school uniform, sleeping on a stack of comic books on what appeared to be a store checkout counter.
“This one came from that old lady that works at the comic store. She said she has a ton of photos of him as a kid, but I don't want to flood the market, you know.”
A paragon of self-restraint and class.
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Now that Izuku could heal his own wounds, he decided it was time to do something about his pesky ruined hands. Since the regeneration couldn't heal old wounds, Izuku took a knife and cut off both hands. That way they would grow back, and be normal and functional this time.
The overhead vent burst open and a cobweb-covered Shigaraki scrambled out like a meth-crazed spider monkey. He snatched Izuku's severed hands off the floor and disappeared back into the vents.
Izuku’s hands had yet to regrow, so he fumbled his phone between his elbows and forearms.
‘Siri, call Kaachan.” he instructed.
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“Hey little listener, you’re lucky caller number 1. You win a free pass to shut the fuck up!”
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