Chapter Text
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Izuku finishes his prayer off with a sigh, picking up his fork and staring down at the cocktail of ingredients considered a meal. He’s never questioned what they’ve served to him as food, since he’s never had anything else, but wonders if there’s anything else he could possibly eat that aren’t the same five meals that are eaten multiple times throughout a minimum of four days. He glances over at his best friend, who hesitates consuming his first bite of the food.
“What’s wrong? You don’t like it?”
“No, it smells like fucking sh—“
“Language Kacchan! They’ll hear you.”
“Whatever.”
Izuku frowns, noticing the difference in food. The mush tossed onto his plate is a different shade, looks cleaner and more appealing than Katsukis. Without a word, he switches their plates, in which Katsuki responds with a confused grumble but accepts the trade.
A nearby nun witnesses the exchange, and with a mutual disliking towards Katsuki that all of the nuns share, she yells
“Izuku Midoriya, you are to hand Katsuki his plate back right this instant. To treat a neighbor with kindness, that is to be given and seen as such. Katsuki does not deserve it”
“But his looks horrible..”
“What did you say?”
“He said it looks like you shit on a plate, ate it, threw it up, and labeled it a meal. God, do you really think anybody here truly enjoys waking up to this shit everyday?”
The nun walks over, grabbing the two by the arms and dragging them to the kitchen
“You two are to wipe the kitchen clean and apologize to the kind woman who took the time out of her day to make sure you guys all went on with your day with food in your stomachs. Thank her for not allowing you all to starve, and put your words of honesty into action by cleaning the mess.”
She throws the two onto the floor, tossing wet rags and an empty bucket at the two. They land with grunts and Katsuki bites back grotesque insults while Izuku slides across the floor. He scrapes his palm on a chipped piece of cement that had popped off of the floor. Blood spills down his wrist, an unbearable stinging spread through his hand as the dirt seeps into the wound.
“You’d better not make a mess with your sinful blood, or you are to clean it up with a rag made of your own hair”
“..Yes- Yes ma’am.”
He nods, scrambling up onto his feet to run his gushing hand under numbingly cold water.
Izuku waits for her to leave, before grabbing the sponge and washing the dishes with his own tears. Katsuki gets to work, scrubbing the floor until the original grout color starts peaking through—unless it’s another layer of dirt and grime.
“I-I’m sorry—i didn’t mean to”
“—You didn’t. It’s fine… I hate this place.”
“Don’t say that Kacchan! Remember what we are here for.”
“Here for what? To allow ourselves to be punished for bullshit and grow under fear? No. That’s now how I’m willing to live.”
“But thy Lord, Kacchan—“
“There is no ‘Lord’, Izuku”
Izuku turns to look back, nearly losing balance. He’d been so religion centered and so good growing up, that of course hearing these words surprised him. Especially because he’d seen Katsuki as such a devotee, he’d never expect to hear those words coming from him.
“What? Kacchan don’t say that.”
“It’s true. This is all fucking stupid.”
Izuku gasps, placing the dishes back into the sink, stepping towards the blonde.
“The cameras Kacchan, you will be punished. We are here to honor God, believe in him with our entire soul and heart, to allow us to be guided by him—“
“Bullshit, Izuku! Holy shit, how fucking brainwashed are you? I get that this is your shitty religion but this is not fucking okay! He’s not real. And his servants aren’t either.”
“Kacchan—what!?”
“Don’t you see it Izuku? Finish cleaning.”
“Wh..okay.”
Izuku scrubs the dirty, crumbling dishes with all of his might, hoping that maybe once they get to their cells they can talk more about it. He keeps sharing incredulous looks with Katsuki, not able to wrap his head around the fact that his best friend, and also someone who dedicated himself to God, never believed in what he practiced.
Hours pass, of the same whore telling them that it’s not clean enough, of her belittling them for being too slow or not knowing how to clean despite their years of brutal chores.
Once they are deemed worthy enough to leave, they head back to their shared cells in silence. Katsuki can practically feel the disappointment radiating off of Izuku.