Chapter 1: Prologue
Midoriya Izuku was suffocating. The darkness swirling around him, covering him; making him shiver from the sheer iciness, entering through every hole in his body; slowly, very slowly, killing him.
Why was this happening? Everything was fine this morning! Why? Why was he standing in front of his mother's corpse? How had everything gone wrong?
Izuku took a deep breath, shivering as he did so. He tried to recollect his memories as he hugged himself, ineffectively trying to calm himself down.
It was a typical morning. Izuku had woken up, gotten ready, and run off to school after kissing his mom goodbye as early as possible in order to avoid his 'best friend', Bakugou Katsuki. After all, being burned for being supposedly useless was quite annoying, even if he was used to it.
He sighed as he continued walking, the sunrise painting the sky crimson behind him as the city began to wake up slowly. He hummed pleasantly as he listened to the voices in the empty roads, smiling softly at the calmness, although it would only last an hour or so before the city started buzzing with noises.
Reaching school soon after, he hopped over the walls next to the school gate with a label next to it writing 'Musutafu Primary School', as it hadn't been opened yet, and walked over to a tree in the garden, climbing it swiftly and sitting up on the thick branch sticking out from the upper part of its body, the surrounding leaves covering him from anyone's view, making him unnoticeable. He opened his bright yellow backpack, taking out his notebook, labeled 'Hero Analysis for the Future #6' and skimming through the content, trying to find any errors or anything lacking, scribbling when ideas popped in his head, filling out the blanks in the pages, leaving them nearly no white. After he was done, he took out his small computer his mother had bought him for his birthday, and his portable WiFi device, opening up a news site and scrolling down to find something interesting. After finding an article about a recent villain fight, he opened it up and any footage related to it, and started analysing the fight, scribbling to his notebook, muttering under his breath while doing so. Because his thought process was to fast for him to verbalise it, the things he were saying were all jumbled up, but he paid no mind to that.
This was his routine for the weekdays. Wake up at sunrise, go to school, climb up the tree, start his analysis, and stay there until a minute before the bell, in order to minimalize his interaction with anyone at the school, especially Bakugou. He never enjoyed their interactions, as all the asshole did was insult him, calling him names, and trying to ennoble himself, as if he was born the best, and would always be so. What he didn't realise, or most likely ignored, was that all he did was be a fucking bully, bitching about him and doing nothing but defaming himself, the negativity everyone felt for him growing everyday. But nobody ever voiced out their thoughts, because he was goddamn powerful, Izuku admitted that, and he had a real shitty temper. Infuriating him was a big no-no. If you didn't want to get burned, that is.
The bell rang, snapping Izuku out of his thoughts as he cursed, stuffing his things into his bag and hopping down, rushing to his classroom. he had been so immersed in his thoughts that he had lost track of the time. His only hope was to reach the classroom before his teacher did, and slip in without gathering attention to himself.
He prayed to himself as he nearly flew up the stairs, his steps making no sound at all from being used to running (of course he was, or else how would he have been able to survive Bakugou's explosions for all those years?) and coming to a sudden stop in front of the classroom, which read 3-1 on the label above the door. He slowly opened the door, which made a slight creak, making his expression turn ugly, as he opened it up slightly.
All eyes turned to him as the teacher raised an eyebrow, clearly bemused.
"Good morning Midoriya. Now that you've finally come, would you like to explain the reason for your tardiness?" Well, shit.
After getting scolded and getting warned not to do it again, Izuku could finally sit down, but that didn't comfort him at all, as he saw Bakugou glaring at him, and turned his head away before reaching his seat and sitting down, eyes on his bag as he took out his textbook. That obviously didn't sit well with the blond, who started releasing small explosions from his hand while standing up, slamming his hands on the greenette's desk. Izuku cursed under his breath as he raised his head, slipping on his 'Deku' mask and widening his eyes, reflecting fear from them and stuttering. He didn't like doing so but if he didn't, he would be seen as arrogant, and his bullying would only increase more. By acting all weak and pathetic, he would be seen as harmless, and attract less attention.
"You shitty Deku, why are you here late?! Were you hiding your pathetic little ass from me 'cause you're scared? You useless piece of trash, don't you dare run away from me!" The explosions on his hand got a bit stronger, and he leaned in a bit more, trying to seem more threatening. Izuku's eyes went to the teacher, w ho did nothing to stop it, and internally cursed up a storm for the treatment those with weak quirks, 'villainous' quirks, or lack thereof had to face. The unfairness they had to face was fucking bullshit, but the current society was also full of bullshit, so there wasn't anything that could be done unless a faction was formed to publicly object to it and point out the flaws in the system. And well, that wasn't going to happen anytime soon.
Izuku rolled his eyes inwardly, while outwardly keeping his scared façade, widening his eyes even more to seem like he was scared shitless from those words.
"S-sorry Kacchan, m-my alarm clock b-broke, s-so I w-woke up t-too l-late!" he stuttered out, inwardly cringing in disgust at his mask's personality. He wanted to stop acting, he really did, because it was so fucking annoying, acting like he was scared, but it would only create more problems and he had enough of them already.
The boy seemed satisfied with his fear, and created one more explosion before turning around and sitting back down to his seat.
"Just don't be late again, nerd, or you'll see what'll happen." Izuku didn't show it, but he was genuinely surprised. Had he heard wrong, or was Bakugou worried about him? Nah, that couldn't be. Or could it?
For the next ten minutes, Izuku stared at the back of Bakugou's head (the blond twitched, obviously aware of his gaze, but acted as if he was oblivious to it) trying to figure out what he was thinking. Was he really worried about him? Then why would he've bullied him for all these year? Unless... Izuku shook his head at the thought. No, that couldn't be right. He slapped his cheeks softly to stop thinking about his, and diverted his attention from the boy sitting in front of him to concentrate on the lesson. Well, nothing he didn't know anyway, but he didn't want to catch the teacher's attention for a negativity again. After that warning, he had a high risk of getting detention if he made another mistake, and he didn't want that. At all.
The remainder of the day passed without any other unexpected occurrences, with Izuku hiding every break from Bakugou and his lackeys, and as the final bell rang, Izuku immediately stood up, ready to run when Bakugou cut his way.
'Shit', Izuku thought as he slipped on his mask again, fearful emerald eyes meeting angry crimson ones as he raised his head, looking as innocent and scared as possible.
"W-what is it, Kacchan?" he asked, making his voice as weak and high-pitched as possible, but also not enough to irritate his hearing. Bakugou looked as if he was contemplating, then snapped his attention back to him. He huffed and, surprisingly, walked away.
Izuku stared after him, taken aback. ''What was that?'
After staring at the spot he'd been standing for a while, he shook his head and walked away, relieved that he didn't have to go through the insults and slight beating again.
As he walked home, happily humming for his good fortune, he heard the sound of an explosion, and police sirens came soon afterwards. Intrigued, he decided to check out what was going on. After all, from the sounds of it, it was on his way home.
Quickening his pace, he headed to where the sounds where coming from, and as he got closer and closer, he got even faster, eventually starting running with wide eyes, but not with awe. they were filled with endless fear, genuine fear. He stopped as he arrived at the crime scene where Endeavour, the #2 Hero was fighting against a villain who seemed to have a speed quirk, and stared, panic rising as his brain seemed to short-circuit at the scene in front of him.
Right in front of him was his house, now left a ruin, with flames rising on it. Tears streamed down his face as he clutched his chest, trying to stop the throbbing that was getting stronger each passing moment, while silently praying inside. 'It's going to be okay, mom's fine, she was at work.' He repeated those words like a mantra over and over again, trying to calm himself and stop the tears flowing from his eyes. 'It's going to be just fine.'
As he spotted multiple ambulances and medics around them, he dropped his bag and he rushed to the nearest one, tapping a man in the shoulder and clutching his white coat fearfully. The man turned around and spotted him, his expression immediately softening, and knelt down.
"What's wrong, kiddo? Are you hurt?" he asked, his eyes trailing his body, looking for problems. Izuku shook his head, then shakily asked the question, dreading the answer.
"I-is there someone named M-midoriya into here? S-she has green hair like me, only it's s-straight, and..." he trailed of seeing the officer's look of pity. Horror filled his stomach as he started screaming.
"N-no, it can't be! T-tell me I'm wrong! Sh-she was at work, she couldn't have! Please tell me she's not here, please!" he pleaded, tears once again streaming down his face as he started crying out loud, wiping his face and looking up at him with a pained expression, as his eyes begged him to to tell him that he was wrong, that she was alive.
The man hugged him to his chest, giving no answer, and Izuku's eyes widened, then he squeezed them tight, as if trying to wake up from this dream, no, this nightmare, but with no avail. As the truth sank, he started wailing, soft sobs vibrating his chest as he clutched his chest once again, the throbbing getting even worse. He freed himself from the man., running to the medical beds standing in front of the ambulance, alarming the medics.
"Hey kid, stop!" one of them said and rushed towards him and grabbed him, shielding him from the view, but not soon enough as the boy caught glimpse of green hair. He trashed around, punching and kicking him, but to no avail, so as last resort he bit the man, hard enough for him to scream in pain and let go. He arrived in front of the bed, threw open the white rag on the body and stopped breathing completely.
His mother, burnt all the way from his left calf to his chin, lay there with an expression of panic. Her eyes had been closed by someone, which made her look a bit more peaceful, but it was still horrifying. Her clothes were ripped apart and burnt, but she could still see that she was wearing her casual clothes, meaning she hadn't gone to work. As he looked back, he remembered: when he was going out in the morning, he had seen that while she was smiling at him, she looked completely exhausted. Dark eyeballs rested under her eyes while her skin was completely dry. 'She was sick' he realised, completely unaware of the people trying to talk to him, pull him away, and hugging him. He just stared at his mother's disfigured body, realisation dawning on him once more.
These marks were burn marks. The villain had a speed quirk, which meant that he couldn't have done this. The one responsible for this was Endeavour, a hero.
His eyes slowly turned to the now victorious hero, seeming completely uninterested in the casualties that he'd caused because he wasn't being careful, and his anger flared when he saw that the fucking bastard actually had the nerve to look smug. He had murdered innocent people because of his carelessness, and all he cared about was the glory he'd gained from beating the goddamn villain, who hadn't even caused a single fucking casualty. How the hell was this man a hero? Were all heroes like this? Was all they cared about the fucking fame and glory? Were the heroes that he always loved and worshipped, actually the opposite of what they boasted to be?
Izuku shuddered out a breath again, and his sadness slowly turned into anger. His blood boiled, and his body started trembling. The medic that was hugging him moved away, thinking that the boy had started crying again, but the expression he saw nearly made him faint in fear.
The boy in front of him had a dark aura surrounding him, making everyone shiver in fear as the aura screamed certain death and pain. It was no look that an eight-year-old could have, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything. he was stuck in his place, unable to move at all. He was scared, a fear that he'd never once felt before in his life. It was a fear that one would have while facing a murderer, one with a high amount of bloodlust.
Izuku said nothing at the looks of horror and fear around him. His world was completely silent, and the only voice he heard were the sounds of his own breathing. He walked away, silently grabbing his bag from the ground, and the medics could only watch as he vanished into the shadows, still completely silent and unmoving.
Izuku wiped his tears and nose with his sleeve, eyes never blinking once, and completely emotionless. They would pay. The ones who created this damn society. The ones who fucking went along with it. The ones who fucking liked it. The ones who used it. And on the top of his list was his mother's murderer, Todoroki Enji, also known as Endeavour. He would pay slowly and painfully, and he would watch his expression all the way through.
At that moment, the empathy he felt towards anyone at all died.
Chapter 2: Homeless
Izuku starts his new life, homeless and all alone.
Izuku walked through the obscure back streets, each footstep letting out a slight sound that only he could hear, as it was so weak that normal human hearing could not hear, as they met with the pavement beneath him, the steady rhythm echoing in his head, devoid of any thoughts, as his eyes scanned the area meticulously, looking out for any abnormality, even a slight one, as his hands drummed on his legs, non-rhythmic, and his finger tapping his legs at random.
His expression was one of peace and comfort, but if one looked at him carefully, especially his eyes, they would see the nervous eyes, darting all over the place, and his body, which was ready to stiffen to protect him in the span of moment.
Izuku continued his patrol, fingers twitching at the slightest of sounds, muscles tensing, then dropping again.
The street slowly started getting brighter as he turned a corner, and as he walked to the bright light that signaled the end of the back streets, he slipped his hand into his pocket, fingers grabbing hold of what felt like a piece of cloth, and jerking it out.
It was an eyepatch. Izuku always wore eyepatches when going out into illuminated places, as it made it easier to adjust to the darkness again, with one eye already in the dark. He stepped out of the alleyway, neutrally and inconspicuously, and at his changes became much more apparent under the bright sun.
His hair was now jet black, dyed perfectly and he was wearing dark coloured and baggy clothes which seemed a size or two too big for him. His favourite red shoes were replaced with filthy grey ones, obviously old, and coated with mud.
He raised his head up, eyes squinting as he adjusted to the light, and a few moments later, he opened them. His eyes were now a dark forest green colour with specks of gold dancing around through them, and gone were the excited and happy eyes of his mask, replaced with near emotionless eyes, but if one looked carefully enough, they could see the slight irritation shining through them.
He looked around, spotting a convenience store, and strutted towards it, people avoiding going him slightly as they saw the eyepatch on his face. He payed them no mind and opened the door of the store swiftly, no sound coming out as he walked in, and closed it behind him.
He walked around, grabbing a few food and drinks and throwing them into his shopping bag, going up to the cashier and dropping them on it.
The woman who was playing on her phone raised her head, eyes widening slightly at the sight of the boy, then huffing, scanning the goods and telling him the price, which he payed for immediately, and picked up the bags, nodding at the woman and walking away. The woman scowled behind him, obviously annoyed that the clearly homeless boy has come into the store, wondering where the money had come from, but sighing in defeat, and turning her gaze back to her phone. It wasn’t her problem even if the money was illegally obtained.
Izuku walked away from the busy street, and back into the alley he’d come from, took of his eyepatch, and walked for a while, tense again, until he reached a small pile of cardboard, shaped as a big-sized box. He opened one side of it, gazing around him carefully again to make sure no one was watching, and went in.
Inside the ordinary looking box was a trapdoor with a ladder underneath it, which he swiftly climbed down, reaching the stinky sewers, his nose scrunching slightly at the disgusting smell. He walked for a while, the water splashing around as it flowed through the canal, and reached a shadowed corner. He walked into the shadow, and reached an old looking tent, surprisingly big, and went through it, now in his room he’d been in for many years.
He sat down on his makeshift bed, reaching to his side and grabbing his laptop, before taking his shoes off and leaning against the wall the tent balanced against. He opened his laptop, and his hand started flying through the keyboard, the rhythmic sound the keys made as he did so satisfying for his ears.
He opened his search engine, and was skimming through a news site when his eyes got caught in a certain article. He sighed, closing his eyes and leaning backwards, as the screen displayed a news article from a while ago.
’Orphan Boy Goes Missing After Losing His Mother In A Villain Fight!’
He cursed under his breath as he clicked on the link, scrolling down, his face scrunching up in digust as he did so.
'Midoriya Izuku, an 8-year-old boy, has gone missing after losing his mother to the fight between Endeavor, the #2 Hero, and the infamous villain Godspeed. Witnesses report seeing a boy of his appearance running towards the crime scene, and paramedics admit having talked to the boy. Murasaki, the head medic at the crime scene says: "I saw Midoriya running towards the group and one of our colleagues, Sasaki, talked to the boy. According to him, the boy asked for his mother, and after learning that she was deceased, managed to run over to her. After that, the boy managed to make his getaway. I truly offer my condolences to him and hope he is found soon."'
Izuku sighed, stopping reading, and clicking on another page, one hand rubbing his eyes tiredly. 4 years. Had it really been that long? He still remembered it like yesterday, and the nightmares didn't help either. Seeing her body on those white sheets, unmoving, eyes blank was terrifying, and unforgettable. He shuddered, the milk white skin that was tainted with burns appearing in his mind, and shook his head to get rid of it, then slapped his cheeks, the slight sound echoing in the walls of the sewers, the sound of the rushing water taking over it soon after.
Now wasn't the time for this. He didn't have time to waste mourning if he wanted to go along with his plan. His eyes found the bright screen again, and narrowed slightly, taking everything he saw in quickly and carefully. He had to learn. He had to know. He had to scheme. He had to fight. He had to win.
He opened up a green notebook labelled 'Analysis #17', and started scribbling on it, hand so fast that its movements could hardly be seen, and a few minutes later, paused, eyes going over everything. He nodded, satisfied, and put it back where it belonged again, attention switching to the clock on his computer screen.
He sighed, turning off the laptop and placing it aside, then laying on top of the bed, eyes closing immediately as rhythmic breaths shook his body slightly. If he wanted to be decently rested, he had to sleep.
He lived in the nights, after all.