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Glassy green eyes stared out the window aimlessly. He wasn’t fully aware of where he was, nor did he have the capability to care. “The sky is blue. The sky is pretty,” a hoarse voice sounding out sentences so basic, you normally learned them your first year of schooling. As he looked toward the windows, he continued mumbling, “The blue sky is pretty.” It was so simple, but it made him so proud, for some reason. The classroom was empty, as the students were enjoying their lunch break, but he didn’t even notice that he was in a classroom, let alone the one of his dreams. “The clouds are white,” he stated, too lost in his own mind to hear the bell, signaling the children to corral back into the classrooms. The first flood of kids with brightly colored hair laid eyes on the boy in the window with confusion. He was someone that they had never seen before, and, to top it all off, his demeanor was completely greek to them. A baggy tee shirt gave way to a small frame and brutal scars; forest green hair stuck out in every direction; his skin was a frail pale, as if he hadn’t seen the sun in a year; and he held himself up like a zombie. Students shuffled to their seats, hesitantly, watching the boy with stares that went unnoticed. “Clouds are fluffy. Fluffy and white, they are,” he continued muttering.
Aizawa and President Mic searched the school up and down looking for the boy. Of course, Mic just had to lose the kid. They barely ate anything, despite lunch time just leaving them. The two old friends rushed into his classroom to see the green haired boy gazing out the window. “Midoriya!” Mic sighed a big breath of relief. Turning around, the boy smiled so happily, “The blue sky is pretty, with it’s fluffy, white clouds!” He chirped like it was a milestone, as if that was the best information he had ever heard. Mic gaped, honestly impressed which only confused the class even more. “Teach, who is this kid?” it was Kiminari who had the guts to ask the question on everyone’s mind. Even Bakugou, who was far less than interested in the kid, looked up for an explanation- that was, until he saw the face of the boy in question, “Deku?” Something clicked in the green haired boy, who normally moved so lethargically, his head snapped to the side, “Kaa… chan?” uncertainty in a name that hadn’t been in his life since before… it… Legs caved in and breaths gave way to screaming. First quirk activated: Electric cloak. A lighting storm enveloped his body, thunder cackling as mini bolts sparked up and down his body. Students hurried to the back of the room, except Bakugou, staring in shock at his once quirkless childhood friend, here of all places and with a quirk? Midoriya being at UA in the first place was unlikely, and him having a quirk was unfathomable. However, the confusion only continued to grow as the teachers began to reach out to help Midoriya. He jumped up in an instant, “Don’t touch me!” second quirk activated: Echo. It was a quirk comparable to Mic’s “Voice,” but designed specifically for combat. “Echo” causes the voice of its holder to bounce around in people’s eardrums. Poor Jirou; she felt that more than anyone. Third quirk activated: Aerokinesis. Midoriya pushed the miscellaneous junk on Aizawa’s desk toward he and Mic. To everyone’s surprise, Bakugou frantically called out, “Izuku!” if they weren’t so spooked, they probably would have made fun on that in some way. The light in his green eyes died and his legs fell from beneath him once more. “Don’t take her away,” Midoriya started mumbling. It wasn’t like his muttering when looking out the window, and it wasn’t at all like his happy statement. “Giver her back,” it was sad, disheartening even.
It was a short time into the summer after middle school ended, when there was a knock on the door. Inko was much too nice to ignore such a thing, even if she wasn’t expecting company. Izuku peered over her shoulder, down the hall, with curiosity gleaming in his emerald orbs. The men standing in the doorway looked, in one word, villainous, but the Midoriyas were not people of judgement. The man who looked like he needed three tubes of chapstick was the first to speak, with the man, only comparable to black fire standing behind him. “We don’t usually do it this way, but,” the stepped inside, the wispy human shutting the door. “You are coming with us,” the pale man grabbed Inko’s arm, careful not to activate his quirk, and pulled her into Kurogiri’s warp gate. Izuku ran forward straight into the gate, all according to plan. His screams were as good as mute while he ran that small stretch of hallway.
Entering the gate was like nothing he had ever experienced, not allowing himself even a breath of slowing down. His feet hit solid ground, only to see the room looking at him; they knew about him the whole time. “D-don’t take her away! Give her back!” of course, it was hard to even attempt threatening given his situation. He was a quirkless kid with a small stature, not to mention that they had a hostage. “Then you take her place,” that smooth voice was like the gluing the puzzle. This was an obvious trap. He was the obvious target. But what else could he do? “Fine,” it was but a breath; it was the only confident thing he said. Inko was pushed back into the gate that resembled the man who made it, “Tell anyone about this, and his life is on the line.” It was a threat she would keep close. Izuku meant the world to her.
Shiragaki wanted to know the effectiveness of making a Nomu out of a quirkless kid, so of course he had to ask All For One. What he didn’t expect was the first, last name, and the address of a quirkless boy. Nonetheless, he started with a bit of torture- to build up pain tolerance. The screams echoes in the middle of nowhere, hour after hour, day after day. It was about a month of this before they were able to start the Nomu process. Some people went limp after having just one quirk forced on them, so vessel strength was directly related to Nomu strength. Halfway through that month was when he stopped screaming, but he couldn’t get out of the pain chamber. He was given a week to heal from the violence before he was given to All For One. Several quirks had been set aside for his transplantation, and they were transferred to him one by one. Familiar screams echoed the hideout, but Midoriya never got a break. He felt his mind ripping in two, three, four, five, on and on. He couldn’t even remember his own name by the end of the second transfer. Of course, Regeneration was the first on the list, but that doesn’t mean that everything else was painless.
The same agony ripped through his body at that moment, sitting in the classroom. His skin had a light glow to it, not quite as intense as his “Electric Cloak,” but clearly a quirk trying to activate. He overloaded his regenerative quirk, despite not being injured. He clutched his head, shaking like a leaf in a category five tornado, but he was silent. His “Regeneration” deactivated and the room was left paralyzed. “The blue sky is pretty. ‘Wonder if I’ll ever see it again,” the same croaked tone, barely managing out such simple sentences. Mic was the first to his side, offering the boy a comforting hand. Aizawa sighed, “The League of Villains has been conducting human experimentation. He is a product of that, and we are currently working on rehabilitating him. As you can see, it still needs a bit of work, unfortunately,” he explained in clear distress. Midoriya lay broken on the floor, tears still dampened his cheeks. He had a long road ahead of him… even if he had already been through so much.
