Chapter Text
The dark cubic room was suffocatingly small, with cold hard stone tiles covering the floor and ceiling. The walls were a dull grey, all identical, except for a single black door on one. The room would have felt incredibly plain if not for the unsettling amount of heavy chains hanging from every corner of the room to restrain a figure, like a disturbing web of a spider.
The person being held was a fairly young-looking man, seemingly in his mid twenties— he had fair, porcelain pale skin, long dark brown hair that was kept in a messy french braid excluding the much shorter front, and wore a hooded olive green coat over a blood splattered white t-shirt and jeans; his stature and features making him look almost feminine. His entire body was unmoving, with shackles adorning his wrists, ankles and neck, immobilizing him completely while the metal muzzle around his face stopped just under his sharp brown eyes that stared down on the stone floor in front of him.
As the man continued to stare, the black door in front of the man slid open, casting a bright light into the dark room as well as a tall shadow of a large man. The chained man slowly looked up to see a tall man in a black dress suit with dark hair and gleaming golden eyes.
“Hello to you, Phoenix,” the man in the suit said in a sickeningly silky voice.
The chained man, Phoenix, did not attempt to move, only looking up to stare up at the man with unwavering, sharp eyes.
“It was certainly very noble of you to sacrifice yourself for your friend like that,” the man continued, ignoring Phoenix’s intense gaze as he walked towards his restrained figure. “Don’t worry. The new successor of One for All won’t be dying anytime soon, thanks to you. I’m a man who keeps his promises, after all. He most likely needs it too— he isn’t anything much besides a child right now.””
The man’s fancy dress shoes clicked against the impenetrable stone tile at every step he took, until he stopped just in front of the chained man, whose unwavering eyes possessed an unyielding votex of pressure.
“Say… Phoenix. Do you know why I decided to take you in exchange for the little successor’s life?”
The man’s lips stretched into a wide, cruel grin.
“You’ve been a real thorn in my side you know, being the mentor of all the successors of One for All, and being a fighter, strategist, and advisor of the Underground Liberation Army. What’s more is that I can’t seem to take that troublesome quirk of yours. It’s a shame too— it’s one of the best that I’ve seen.”
The man’s eyes gleamed predatorily as he bent down to lift Phoenix’s chin up to his face, forcing him to stare at his eyes.
“That’s what makes you all the more fascinating.”
Phoenix jerked back, tearing away from the man’s touch as he glared at the man, who simply chuckled as he leaned back with unhidden amusement.
“Regeneration, anti-aging, enhanced intelligence and memory, and possibly more. You’re going to be very useful to me, little bird… especially the healing ; those are quite rare, you see.”
The man’s sinister smile widened, full of teeth.
“What, did you think I didn’t notice your work in the U.L.A.? Many people there are alive thanks to you; many of their injuries were supposed to be fatal. It was quite troublesome, the lot of them, always springing back when I crushed them like ants, especially the second user of One for All, that vengeful pest. You already know he was supposed to die much before he did.”
His gleaming yellow eyes had a dangerous and eerie glint in them, and any common man would have their entire body quivering with primal fear.
“Of course, I myself already have some healing quirks in my possession, but I'll admit, they’re nothing compared to the effectiveness of yours.”
The man raised a large hand, and two smaller figures in lab coats appeared from the open door, along with medical equipment and machines.
“Now that you’re mine , I’ll be able to figure out exactly how it works— I know it has to do with your flesh somehow— and use it to my benefit, not those pesky U.L.A. members. Thankfully, your regeneration will help with any bodily harm that will come in the experimenting process— unless of course you want to cut to the chase and tell us, but knowing you, I already know that you won’t since you’re so stubborn and relisiant. The anti-aging part, though I don’t know the full extent of it yet, will easily make you an accessible long term project.”
The man’s glowing yellow eyes crinkled as his smile grew impossibly wider.
“Have fun.”
As the man pivoted on his foot to walk away, Phoenix spoke, his voice muffled by the muzzle around his jaw.
“You can’t keep me forever…
“ All For One . ”
All For One chuckled ominously at his words, walking away to leave Phoenix with the men in lab coats and their machines.
“We’ll see about that, little bird.”
~97 years later~
“Inko!” Mitsuki greeted, letting the green haired woman and the small boy beside her inside.
“Mitsuki!” Inko greeted back, beaming widely as she held Izuku’s hand, “It’s been awhile!”
“Sorry we’ve been out of touch recently,” Mitsuki said apologetically, “The house was pretty hectic after Masaru got his new job, so we’ve been pretty busy.”
“Oh no, it’s fine, it’s the same here,” Inko assured, following the blonde woman into her home, “Hisashi has been calling saying he got an opportunity to stay in the States for a bit.”
“Wow, really?!”
“Yeah, but nothing’s really concrete right now.”
“Well hopefully things work out well, though it’d be nice if he got to visit before he goes someplace again,” Mitsuki said, clearing her throat, “But enough about Hisashi, how are you two doing? It’s been awhile since all four of us met up like this.”
“Oh we’re doing fine,” Inko said, turning to Izuku, “Izuku, don’t you wanna say hi to Auntie?”
“Hi Auntie,” Izuku beamed, a bit shyly, “thank you for inviting us.”
“Aww,” Mitsuki cooed, bending down to squish the boy’s cheek. “Aren’t you the sweetest? I wish my Katsuki had some manners.”
“Ha?!” Katsuki hissed, waving his fist in the air as he poked his head into the room, “What did you say?!”
“Oh hush, Katsuki,” Mitsuki sighed, nudging the child forward, “Why don’t you go play with Izuku? I’m sure you two have a lot to catch up on.”
“Hmph,” the blonde grumbled, grabbing Izuku’s hand and dragging him away, “C’mon Izuku, let’s leave the hag and go play in my room.”
“Oi, what did you call me, Brat?!”
Katsuki laughed mischievously as he dragged Izuku away, who happily followed behind him.
“Kacchan,” Izuku said to him gently as they ran towards the blonde’s room, “You shouldn’t be mean to Auntie.”
“I’m not,” Katsuki lied, “Hag is another nickname for ‘mom’.”
“Really?”
“Yup.”
“Wow, I didn’t even know,” Izuku beamed, “Kacchan’s so smart.”
“Don’t call Auntie Inko that though,” Katsuki added quickly, “It wouldn’t work.”
“Eh? Why?”
“... It’s a special word only for my mom.”
“Okay Kacchan,” Izuku responded with a smile. Katsuki had to repress a laugh, unbeknownst to the awfully gullible Izuku.
The two entered Katsuki's bedroom, which was obnoxiously decorated with loud and bold colors— All Might posters adorned the walls, figurines lined the selves, and some drawings were pinned and displayed— some of them being Izuku’s own drawings from past visits.
“Woah, is that a new All Might figurine?” Izuku asked, running up to the brand new figurine with starry eyes.
“Yup,” Katsuki replied proudly, “Dad got it for me as a late birthday present.”
“Woahh,” Izuku said in admiration, delicately running his small hands over the figurine, “It looks like one of the expensive ones.”
Katsuki puffed up proudly, guiding Izuku to his latest creation hanging up on the wall.
“Look, Izuku,” he said, pointing to the drawing on the wall, “It’s my hero costume in the future!”
“You look so cool, Kacchan!” Izuku gushed, looking at the drawing of bright oranges and greens in awe.
“Of course it’s cool,” Katsuki said matter-of-fact-ly, “I’m going to be the coolest hero ever and beat up all the bad guys!”
“I can’t wait to be a hero too,” Izuku said, smiling, “just like All Might! I wonder when we’ll get our quirks?”
“Mom says when we’re around four,” Katsuki responded, “I better get the coolest quirk ever!”
“Me too!”
The two laughed, imagining a future where the two saved the world of crime with bright, fearless smiles.
Perhaps it would have been for the best for things to have stayed that way— maintaining their childhood innocence for just a bit longer. But like all things, the times changed and passed without fail, and the both of them had to grow up— leaving their happy days of oblivious laughter behind.
“Wow Katsuki!” The daycare teacher smiled, bending down as the young blonde watched his palms crackle with sparks, “That’s a nice quirk you got there! I’m sure you can be a great hero with a quirk like that.”
“Woah!” The kids shouted in excitement, all of them yet to show their own quirks to the world. “That’s so cool, Bakugou!”
Izuku, like the others, watched in awe as the sparks formed as if they were small but bright fireworks. It was no surprise that Katsuki’s quirk was powerful, but Izuku couldn’t help but stare with starry eyes with just how amazing it was. With this, they were a step closer to being the adults they dreamed of.
With his own quirk, he’ll stand right by Katsuki’s side, bringing justice to the villains who dared to disturb the peace. Anticipation blossomed in his chest as he waited for that day in which he too gained his own quirk. And the others, one by one, begin to show.
Each were unique and personal to each child, and it became apparent that their quirks were a part of who they were. Days passed as the lively daycare had kids gaining quirks left and right, until Izuku was the only one left— already falling behind as the kids reached the next stage to maturity, while his dream to stand by Katsuki’s side was rapidly diminishing as his back grew further and further away, leaving him behind in the dust.
Perhaps he was doing something wrong. Perhaps, there was a certain, unspoken requirement that was placed that he didn’t meet.
Was he eating too little? He was always told he was on the skinnier side… Was he not active enough? He had always followed Katsuki around… Was he… just not good enough?
Inko assured him that he was just a late bloomer. He supposed that made sense. That’s what he told himself. That’s what he told the other kids when they began questioning about his absent quirk.
“Hmph,” Katsuki said to him, scoffing, “Whatever Deku, late bloomer or not, it won’t be as cool as mine.”
Izuku smiled sadly. Though the words should have been hurtful, at that point, Izuku would have honestly been relieved if he developed any quirk at all.
“I’m sorry to say, but he has no hope in becoming a hero. He should give up as soon as possible.”
Izuku froze in his seat in the clinic swivel chair as the words of the doctor seated in front of him rang in his ears, dropping his treasured All Might action figure on the cold white ground of the clinic.
“No, there must be some mistake!” Inko said, fidgeting nervously with her hands, “The other children at Izuku’s kindergarten have all shown signs of developing a quirk, but…”
“Pardon me asking, ma’am,” the Doctor interjected, his voice cold, “but you’re a fourth generation, yes? As far as quirks I mean.”
“Yes, of course,” Inko replied quietly, “I can pull small objects towards me, and my husband can breathe fire.”
Inko eyed Izuku with growing concern as she pulled the fallen toy from the ground and to her hands. Izuku himself simply stared blankly ahead, still in complete shock and disbelief of the words trailing out of the doctor’s mouth. Izuku’s vision was swimming— the room suddenly felt too bright and too white, and the previously chilly room suddenly became ice cold. Everything had been fine— but now everything was going astray.
I… can’t be a hero?
The statement was unthinkable. Everyone dreamed of becoming a hero, yet he had just been told that he shouldn’t— no that couldn’t . Izuku clenched the fabric of his pants tightly, still staring ahead unresponsively.
“By the age of four, a child should manifest either one of their parent’s quirks or a combination of the two,” the doctor continued, clicking his pen in a dull, methodical rhythm that echoed around the sterile clinic walls. “However, early quirk research discovered one important finding: the presence or absence of the extra joint in the pinky toe. Humans have no need for parts they don’t use, you see, and those without the joint represent the next stage of evolution.”
The doctor ceased the clicking, and pointed at an image with the tip of his pen.
“Izuku, as you can see by his X-Rays, has two joints, confirming that he possesses no quirk at all.”
Izuku's mind buzzed, his stomach churning in place as the doctor's statement clashed down heavily on him with finality.
(Q u i r k l e s s … )
Izuku, who remained numb to his mother’s gentle touch that hugged him closely, glanced up at the sound of a voice.
(D e k u … )
Izuku looked around, but the voice did not come from any direction, as if it was encompassing him. It was neither of the doctor’s cold voice, nor his mother’s gentle soothing one. It was very faint, and barely distinguishable, but nonetheless unmistakeable. It hummed and whispered to him, feeding him poisonous thoughts.
(U s e l e s s …)
(D e k u … )
“Who are you?” Izuku asked under his breath, but the voices merely hummed back, mocking him.
(Q u i r k l e s s … )
(D e k u … )
And soon, the days filled with innocent, lighthearted joy were no more.
He felt lost. All his life, he’s dreamed of becoming something he admired with all of his heart, only for hopeful dreams to be halted by a single, towering barricade.
But all obstacles can be overcome… right?
“Mom, no matter what kind of trouble you’re in… All Might will save you with a smile. “ A numb, shaky smile was stretched across Izuku’s small face. “That’s… the kind of hero that I want to be.”
“I’m sorry, Izuku,” Inko whispered, gently stroking his curly green hair as she cried, her salty tears rolling down her cheeks and landing on Izuku’s freckled skin, “I’m sorry.”
Izuku bit his bottom lip, breaking some skin as he balled up his hands into tight fists, his knuckles turning white. Grief and sorrow consumed him, and helplessness drowned any lingering sparks of hope.
Mom, I …
That’s not what I wanted you to say…
“Pathetic…”
“Quirkless loser!”
Izuku winced and trembled as each blow sent a wave of pain all throughout his body, his dirt-coated face wet with tears. Squeezing his eyes shut, Izuku curled into a defensive ball in an attempt to shield his vulnerable stomach, hoping that everything would just go away.
“Tch,” Bakugou eventually scoffed, “Useless, Quirkless Deku.”
Seemingly getting tired of continually punching and kicking the small crumpled form of Izuku, Bakugou turned to leave. The two boys of Bakugou’s little gang followed after the explosive blond, laughing and throwing insults at Izuku as they walked off.
Izuku shakily got up, clutching his right rib tightly as he looked at the retreating forms of the boys. He then turned back to the boy that he was protecting, who was still on the floor, shakily wiping away remaining tear tracks on his cheeks as he watched Katsuki and his gang disappear around the corner of the park.
“A-Are you okay?” Izuku asked, holding out a hand for the other boy.
The boy flinched, shifting uncomfortably while backing away from Izuku’s outstretched hand, “I— … Thanks, but Bakugou’s gonna hurt me more if I talk to you… I’m sorry.”
The boy hesitantly backed away some more, stumbling over his own before running away, leaving Izuku alone in the empty park playground.
Izuku let his hand fall limply to his side as he lowered his head to stare down at the ground, his eyes downcast and brimming with unshed tears threatening to fall. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than for the ground to cave open and swallow him whole.
C’mon Izuku… he thought to himself as he wiped his eyes with his heavily bruised and burned arm, Don’t cry… You should be used to this by now…
Izuku slowly walked toward the direction of his apartment complex, limping slightly at every step while occasionally wiping tears from his freckled cheeks and smearing the tear tracks left by all the dirt on his face. The whole way, people merely spared pitiful glances at his burned and bruised body before guiltily turning away, completely ignoring him to tend to their own interests. The whole way, he walked completely and utterly alone.
It had been around this time that Izuku realized many things about the world— Inequality. Injustice. The fact that if you were created without power, you will be left behind.
“People are not created equal.”
“Hisashi, what are you talking about?!”
Even to her ears, Inko’s voice was frantic, her whispers full of disbelief and sorrow.
“ I’ve decided to stay in the States for longer, I’m not sure when I’ll come back. ”
“You’ll come back right? Hisashi— you haven’t seen your son since he was two. ”
“ I’m sorry, Inko— I really am. But I’ll be here for awhile— ” Inko sat in disbelief at how cold his voice was. “ ... maybe even permanently. Don’t worry though, the new job pays significantly better, so the payment I’ll send you would be bigger.”
Is that really what matters right now? Inko wanted to say, but she bit her lip, ducking her head.
“I… I understand,” she replied eventually, holding back her tears. “At least give us a call when you can, alright dear? I know you’re busy but—”
“ I understand. ”
And just like that, he hung up.
Inko held her phone tightly against her chest, pressing her palm against her mouth to smother down her sobs. Tears silently rolled down her cheeks as her entire body shook with tremors.
Stupid, stupid, Inko… You utter fool… You know he isn’t coming back.
She knew— she knew why Hisashi suddenly decided to stay permanently in the United States; why he suddenly seemed so distant; why he finally contacted her after a sudden lack of calls, only to tell her that he was leaving again— she just hated that she couldn’t fault him for it.
As she silently knelt on the ground crying beside the empty, too large bed, she didn’t notice the tuff of curly green hair that quietly listened to her muffled sobs.
I’m such a pathetic mother.
His mother was a kind, weak hearted individual. The news of his Quirklessness hit hard for the both of them, and though Inko did not show it directly for his sake, he knew.
Ever since he was officially stated as Quirkless, all Inko did was to treat him like he was fragile— looking at him with pity and guilt. When he heard her sobs that night, he knew that it was because of him— and it was that day that he decided that he never wanted to hear her cry again— so he smiled— just like the times before.
She would embrace him, her arms around him and her eyes looking at him gently, and she would smile back at him— but it wasn’t the same as before, when her smiles were as bright as the sun and warm like the gentle pouring sunlight. Her eyes— once bright and full spirited, now was tired, full of weary sadness and guilt. It pained him.
But ever since he began to smile again, Inko seemed to get brighter, slowly but surely— so he keeps smiling.
The times have been hard for her—Izuku knew— the sound of her crying alone when she thinks Izuku’s sleeping and her body widening due to her vigorous stress eating was proof— but Izuku just smiles, hoping that one day, everything would be enough for her to be happy again— however many lies it may take.
“I’m back!” Izuku called as he entered the apartment, slipping off his shoes.
“Welcome back, Izuku!” his mother called from the kitchen, wiping off her hands to embrace him. “How was school, Mr. Birthday Boy?”
“Everyone sang Happy Birthday,” Izuku replied with a broad, sunny smile, “It was a bit embarrassing, but everyone was nice!”
“Is that so? I can’t believe you’re already six, Izuku!” She knelt down and wrapped her arms around him in joy, but frowned as the boy flinched in her embrace. “Izuku?”
“Yeah?” He asked hurriedly, looking at her smiling.
Inko stared at him with concern, her gaze pausing at a patch of aggravated skin peeking through his sleeve on his arm.
“Oh, this?” Izuku responded, twisting his arm to show her his darkening arm. “Don’t worry, I just bumped into a tree while playing tag.”
“Goodness, Izuku,” Inko said with worry, “Please look where you’re going.”
“Sorry,” he said with a smile, “I’ll be more careful. Can I go watch T.V. Please?”
Inko sighed, “let’s put something on that, and you can go watch T.V., okay? Remember not to eat any snacks today though— you need room for birthday Katsudon dinner and cake later, okay?”
“Okay!” Izuku replied cheerfully, his usually lively footsteps oddly quiet and carefully soft while his arms lay awkwardly at his side.
Just smile, Izuku. Just smile.
“Oi, Deku!”
The blonde watched him, his once proud, but sincere smile contorting into a twisted, sick grin. The hand that would have previously helped him up, now tauntingly crackled with threatening sparks of light.
“Why don’t you get up already, hah?”
Izuku’s tears, which would have been soothed away by the blonde’s grounding, playful voice, now fell onto the dirt beside his trembling hands that were planted on the ground.
“Don’t tell me that you’re so useless that you forgot how to walk, Deku .”
Toxic laughter echoed in his ears, his head ringing from the pain that coursed through his body. The footsteps of the uncaring bystanders moved across his peripheral, leaving him to his fate.
Everything— the isolation, the judgement, and the abuse that occured was now a part of his life now. It had gotten worse by the day— and peace was practically non existent outside his home.
His eyes trailed down his arm, examining the amount of bruises that covered them as Bakguou’s voice left nothing but a haunting blur of echoes in his ears.
How am I going to cover this up? They’re all over my arms, and I’ve already made an excuse to mom yesterday.
(N o o n e c a r e s — w h y b o t h e r , D e k u ? )
On the contrary, Bakugou certainly had won— he always did ( he’s Kacchan after all— (h e ' s e v e r y t h i n g y o u ' r e n o t )) . He won his quirk lottery, and he gloated over his victory every single day, using his status to gain more and more, whether it be power, reputation, privileges, or even just kind words that fed his massive ego.
Izuku always admired Bakugou for his victories, his powers, his talents, his confidence, everything that he didn’t have , and envisioned him as the embodiment of victory and success. His view of him did not change, but that did not change the fact that everything hurt .
The malignant words that carelessly slithered out of people’s mouths like a venomous viper, the explosions from Bakugou’s sweaty palms scorching his skin through the tattered fabric of his shirt, getting his hopes and dreams laughed at and belittled— they all hurt.
“Oi, you listening, Deku? Or are you just ignoring me you useless trash?”
Izuku whimpered as a foot drove itself into his stomach.
It hurts.
“He’ll save you with a smile!”
"That's the kind of hero that I want to be."
Just smile, Izuku. Just smile.
People smile, and they laugh. It’s a natural thing. It’s what they do when they’re happy, when they feel joy, when times are kind to them.
Izuku remembers smiling, quite a lot actually. Whenever he saw his mother greeting him home, he would smile with joy. Whenever he saw a hero using their strength to save others, he would smile with excitement. Whenever he would play with Katsuki…
He used to smile for a lot of things. What did he smile because of now?
Izuku smiles to hide.
Izuku smiles to hide the crying, hurt, and scared boy littered with scars, fighting the approaching darkness that constantly tried to consume him as the world continued to crush him.
If it meant keeping his mother’s heart at peace— if it meant being a hero to just one person that was dearest to him— he would do anything. Smiling was merely a small price he must pay.
Izuku straightened his dirty clothes, dusting off any remaining dirt as he walked towards his apartment complex. It was still bright out, and the sun was shining brightly overhead making Izuku’s still misty emerald eyes glisten in the afternoon sunlight.
Tightening his hold on his yellow All Might backpack, Izuku pushed forward, his timid, quiet footsteps noiselessly sounding against the concrete pavement as his thoughts unconsciously drifted to the heroes he had been studying, his mouth unconsciously mumbling to his distracted thoughts.
Ever since he was quirkless, he has been analyzing heroes and everything about them, from their fighting styles, their heroes outfits, their strengths, their weaknesses, everything. Looking at some of his old notebooks, titled Hero Analysis for the Future No. 1 and 2 respectively, his analysis has certainly improved in quantity and quality. It was one of the things he actually enjoyed, and he thought analyzing heroes would come in handy in the future— if he becomes one.
(Y o u ’ l l n e v e r b e a h e r o , D e k u .)
(G i v e u p .)
At first, the voices had been small whispers of a couple words, usually of things that others have said, and subtle humming. Now, they had evolved into hurtful taunts and jabs, haunting him constantly and picking at him, until gradually they became more and more prominent in his life.
The extremity of the taunts varied everyday and at different times, but they were always there . It was like having a bully with you everywhere, inside your mind, where you couldn’t flee, like Izuku did with Bakugou. The voices, though bothered Izuku severely, were a regular part of his life now. He didn’t tell anyone of course, as no one else cared besides his mother, and he didn’t want to worry her. It was alright; Izuku could handle them— it’s just… difficult sometimes.
Clenching his backpack strap tightly, Izuku chanted reassurances in his head to reel the voices back inside the depths of mind; but they were louder than usual.
( Y o u ’ r e w o r t h l e s s )
( W h a t ‘ s t h e p o i n t o f l i v i n g , D e k u ? )
The breath in his throat died, and Izuku began panicking as no air circulated his lungs. Tears resurfaced as he began hyperventilating, pausing in his steps as the droplets streaming down his bruised, freckled cheeks in trails and cascaded down to the grey sidewalk.
“Are you okay, little one?”
( N o o n e c a r e s . )
Izuku grabbed strands of his hair, tugging almost violently as he whimpered. It was too loud. His ears rang and he wanted it all to stop.
“Little one—“
Stumbling aside, he unsteadily made his way towards a nearby alleyway, where he sat himself down against the alley wall— in a more private setting than in the middle of a busy sidewalk. He hunched his body, trying to get his erratic breathing settled down. Only once his tear-filled eyes dried did he stand up to go back home.
However, as soon as Izuku stood, a distant, faint screech was heard then abruptly cut off, causing Izuku to freeze his small steps. It seemed like it was from deeper inside the network of alleyways.
Was that… a scream?
Izuku started to cautiously step towards the direction the sound had come from.
Does someone need help?
( Y o u c a n ’ t h e l p a n y o n e . )
Izuku wandered around for a bit, looking around cautiously for anyone, his quiet steps faintly echoing throughout the long dark passages. Even the bright afternoon sun couldn’t reach the cold concrete floor, the tall buildings that made up the alleyway walls casting dark shadows in every spot of the passage. The narrow passageways were also filthy; away from the public eye, the ground was littered with pieces of trash, big and small. Some poorly washed graffiti didn’t help the eerie atmosphere.
Maybe I was just hearing things.
As soon as Izuku turned the next corner, his blood turned icy cold, and he immediately hid back behind the building, clamping his hands on his mouth as he held his breath. There was a man there— and there was so much blood and the smell of iron— it… was a villain attack.
Izuku stealthy peaked back around the corner, internally so very thankful that his steps were naturally quiet and didn’t give much presence (f r o m h i d i n g f r o m y o u r K a c c h a n ).
There were two men in the alleyway dead end. One, a very muscular man with short brown hair, was holding a long, sharp knife with his right hand, its blade dripping with blood, and had the left clamped around the other man’s mouth. The other, who was tall and had a lithe figure, had an expression that can be described as primal fear as he sat on the dirty ground with his back against the wall. His glasses were lopsided, his short dark hair was disheveled, and his eyes were wide open in terror. He wore a now cluttered grey dress suit, ruined with crimson blood at his left side, and his hands desperately tried to pry the villain’s hand off his face. He emitted muffled screams, and the villain hissed, raising the knife once more.
“Stop struggling,” the man said gruffly, “It will be over soon.”
As he realized what was occurring, there was a wave of urgent panic that coursed through his now wide awake mind.
There was no time to think— because the man was screaming for help while the blade flashed in the air as it was driven down towards his heart.
No!
Izuku dashed forward, and pulled at the arm with the knife with all the strength he could muster, trying to yank the knife out of the man’s hands with his own small ones. Keyword: tried. The villain whipped his murder-crazed gaze at Izuku, and a chill was sent down Izuku’s spine as their eyes met.
“A kid?” the villain snarled, his wide, bloodshot eyes gazing down at Izuku’s all too fragile body. “How the fuck did you get here? Don’t get in my way, or I'll kill you too!”
(A h , y o u ’ r e s o s t u p i d …)
(S o u s e l e s s …)
(Y o u c a n ’ t e v e n s a v e o n e m a n …)
(W h y d i d y o u t h i n k y o u c o u l d e v e r b e t h e h e r o ?)
(Y o u c a n ’ t , D e k u .)
The man on the ground, looked at him with a gaze that screamed, ‘ save me!’
Despite the absurdity of the situation, Izuku felt no fear— but rather, his mind was wide awake with only one goal in mind: To save this man who had been screaming for help.
“I won’t let you kill him!”
(W h a t w o u l d a u s e l e s s D e k u l i k e y o u d o ?)
( Y o u ’ r e n o t h i n g .)
The man’s eyes bulged in rage as he flung Izuku aside against the wall of the dead end, the collision against the wall making him scream in agony. He fell on his side, his arms scraping open under the friction of the concrete floor. He was cornered in now, Izuku realized, his breath uneven and shaky.
“You stupid kid!” The villain roared, his eyes crazed and bloodshot. “This fucking bastard stole my future from me! He took everything from me! You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this… ”
The villain sneered at Izuku, and turned his gaze back to the limble man on the floor, who was paralyzed with fear. As the villain approached him, the man on the ground clung the wall behind him, but it did nothing as the villain squatted down in front of him, clamped his hand over his mouth, and stabbed him in the leg brutally.
The man screamed, his cries of agony muffled by the large calloused hand that gripped his jaw.
“I’m saving you ‘till last,” the villain muttered in the other man’s ear. “Thank the kid for your extended suffering.”
The villain stabbed him again, the other leg this time, and tears began to fall like a stream as the man shrieked and wailed, his arms desperately trying to push the villain off but to no success.
( Y o u m a d e i t w o r s e . )
( Y o u c a n ’ t d o a n y t h i n g r i g h t . )
( H e s u f f e r s b e c a u s e of y o u . )
( Y o u ’ r e a f a i l u r e . )
“Don’t you dare yell for help, or I’ll fucking torture you to death instead of killing you on the spot.”
The villain turned his attention back to Izuku, who by now had realized the gravity of the situation he was in— and with that realization, came the paralyzing fear that shackled his legs.
“I can’t leave witnesses. Bad luck, kid.”
The villain strutted forward, his gaze completely cold and devoid of any compassion. Izuku instinctually backed up, until his trembling back hit against the dead end.
( S o u s e l e s s … )
( Y o u c a n ’ t e v e n s a v e y o u r s e l f …)
A rough, calloused hand grabbed Izuku by his face, the man’s fingers gripping his head painfully as if he was aiming to crush it in his hand. Izuku’s eyes widened, and the tears began to fall as his small, light body was hauled up from the ground by his head.
Is this… how I die?
In a dirty alleyway, forgotten?
Never achieving my dreams?
I couldn’t even save the man.
(U s e l e s s D ek u … )
( No o n e w i ll c o m e . )
( N o o n e c a r e s . )
( Y o u a r e a f a i l u r e . A b r o k e n b o y w i t h n o f u t u r e . )
( J us t d i e a l r e a d y — I t w i l l a l l b e o v e r . )
( J u s t d i e .)
Vision blurry, he tried to fight the man’s iron grip, but it proved to be futile as it did nothing to hinder the man, who almost artfully raised the knife in the air, the blade acting the light beautifully. He was staring at death in the face— a death that he definitely did not want to face— not here, not now. He didn’t want to die.
I don’t want to die.
He squeezed his eyes shut.
Please, save us—! Anyone!
A flash of darkness filled Izuku’s blurred peripheral and a strong gust of wind echoed before the iron grip that had held him suddenly gave out with a blood shrieking yell and a sickening crunch of bone. Izuku fell to the ground harshly, the fallen knife cluttering on the alleyway floor. Izuku quickly scrambled back away from the villain, coughing heavily as he sucked in his deprevied air.
The villain cradled his twisted and mangled left arm as he howled in pain, which Izuku could see was bent in the wrong direction entirely. Izuku quickly scrambled away from the villain’s reach and looked around the alleyway in confusion, but saw nothing astray but the gentle cradling of the wind.
The villain howled furiously, cursing vulgar language at the air as his bloodshot eyes flickered around wildly in what seemed like paranoia. When his eyes finally fell on the knife on the ground, he quickly looked around again before he leaped for the shiny knife’s handle.
Just before Izuku thought that the villain’s large calloused hands was about to grab hold of the knife’s black metal handle, another gust of wind blew against his face. Just before Izuku closed his eyes, he saw a brief flash of a dark figure, with blurred features of waving dark hair and an olive green coat, beside the villain. When Izuku opened his eyes again, the knife was gone, and the villain was on the ground, unmoving.
Izuku looked around frantically, trying to locate the figure responsible. His emerald eyes fell onto the victim, who was propped against the wall, and the figure crouched beside him. The victim himself seemed fine, and seemed unconscious, his breathing even and peaceful as if he was asleep from what Izuku could tell. But when his eyes fell on the figure, who wore a dark olive green coat with fur rimed hood that concealed their features, Izuku felt himself freeze, staring at the figure, who had the glinting knife in their hand.
They saved me.
Izuku held his breath as the figure gracefully rose from the ground and turned their head towards Izuku. Izuku’s emerald eyes stared into the figure’s sharp eyes— a deep, mystical brown that was gentle and warm compared to their sharp and expressionless face— and found himself being drawn into them.
Pretty, Izuku thinks absentmindedly.
The figure brought a dainty finger to their lips, forming a shushing gesture, before they disappeared after an echo of wind, the villain’s knife cluttering on the alleyway ground. Izuku stared at the ground where they had just been standing, wondering if he had really seen what he thought he saw, or if it had just been an illusion.
(Y o u s h o u l d h a v e d i e d . )
( Y o u ’ r e n o o n e ’ s h e r o . )
Even as the voices whispered and tugged on his mind, Izuku couldn’t bring himself to care— lifting his head up at the sky, he wondered if the wind had whisked them away.
Izuku was at the police station, as the witness of the villain attack and the vigilante rescue. It was intimidating at first, being in the place where they dealt with criminals, but the officers, although serious and professional, were kind.
(I t ’ s o n l y t h e i r j o b . )
( T h e y d o n ’ t c a r e a b o u t y o u . )
After Inko was brought to the station and some questioning was initiated, mostly about the villain and the figure that saved him, Izuku was free to go. Inko scrambled over Izuku in worry of course, crying and clutching her child tight against her chest, how she almost lost him . She grew even more worried after seeing all the bruises littered on Izuku’s body.
When the officer questioning Izuku asked about it, Izuku had told them that he and his friends had been “play-fighting” as heroes and villains, and things had gotten more rough than intended. They had simply nodded and moved on to the next question, although some had concerned expressions on their face ( T h e y w o u l d n ’ t w o r r y f o r y o u . Y o u ’ r e n o t h i n g t o t h e m ).
It was true that they had been from his friends (A r e t h e y r e a l l y y o u r f r i e n d s ? )but Izuku felt bad about lying about the rest. But what if Bakugou had gotten into trouble because of Izuku? He didn’t want to be the cause of that, and certainly did not want to get in the way of Bakugou’s dreams of becoming the best hero.
(Y o u ' l l b r i n g e v e r y o n e d o w n w i t h y o u .)
As the two Midoriyas returned home, Inko prepared Katsudon, Izuku’s favorite, for the two of them to “appreciate the fact that Izuku was alive and well'', according to Inko. She even prepared the complementary green onions on the fried pork cutlet in a smiley face, along tiny sesame seeds sprinkled on top to make freckles on each cheek; just how he liked it.
~ ~
“It looks just like you!” she said, tickling him under the armpits, “Adorable freckles with a biggg smile on his face~!”
“Ow! Mom, stop it!” a younger Izuku giggled, trying to escape Inko’s tickle attack.
~ ~
“Thanks, mom, you’re the best,” Izuku said, his smile genuine. What did he do to deserve such an amazing mother? ( S h e ‘ l l b e b e t t e r o f f w i t h o u t y o u . )
“Your welcome, Izuku, enjoy your food.”
“Thank you for the food!”
Dinner was quiet. Not in an uncomfortable silence, but a pleasant one. Inko hummed as she ate, and Izuku thoroughly enjoyed his katsudon, appreciating how the deep fried pork cutlet crunched in his mouth to give away the juicy and soft inner meat. He sighed with contentment when he finished his bowl, humming to himself as he got up and stepped up the stool to reach down the sink and drop his dishes inside.
“Oh, Izuku, I’m excusing you from school for a week,” Inko said, also getting up to put her dishes in the sink, “The villain attack must have been quite a shock for you. I also don’t want you to go alone outside for awhile; It’s too dangerous. Who knows what kind of horrid villains are lurking in the shadows.”
Izuku frowned. He didn’t want to be babysitted, he was a big boy now. He was in elementary school now, not in kindergarten.
“Mom, I don’t think I need that. I’ll be fine if I stay around a lotta’ people. The villain happened cuz’ I was alone.”
“Why were you in an alleyway alone anyways, Izuku?” Inko asked, looking conflicted. She had been with Izuku when he was answering the officer’s questions as his parent, after all.
Izuku paused, not wanting to say that he ‘wandered into the alley because he had felt that he was being inconvenient to the people walking by crying in the middle of the sidewalk because the voices’, which Izuku can easily guess that it was not normal, was ‘being too loud and overwhelming and had made him feel terrible with all their negative whispering and suicide baiting.’
“I thought that I saw a cat go into the alley, so I tried to follow it,” Izuku lied, “I didn’t know the villain was there.”
She stared at him for a long moment.
“Alright,” Inko sighed eventually, as if she decided to trust words. ( B u t y o u l i e d , D e k u . ) “Just be more careful, okay? Stick to the crowd, don’t wander too far.”
Izuku buried the voice’s words with a pressed, tight-lipped smile.
“Okay, mom, I will.”
Telling her the truth wouldn’t do much good. Inko was already worrying too much about Izuku, and he wasn’t sure what Inko would say if she knew about the voices that wouldn’t stop bothering him .
Izuku headed towards his room and opened the door, which sported an All Might themed name plate, and entered his room that was full of hero merchandise, from posters, action figures, and furniture, with most of them being of his favourite hero and idol, All Might. He walked up to his bookshelf, and grabbed his current analysis notebook, Hero Analysis for the Future, No. 3. , and headed back to the living room where he sat himself down in between the living room couch and coffee table, where he could see his mother was washing the dishes in the kitchen. He liked to have her presence while he was working; it eased him to know that she was there with him.
He turned on the news for any hero fights, which he found plenty of, to give himself more material to analyze and work with. As he worked, he started to think more about what happened previously that day.
Izuku didn't write the villain down in his notebook, as it was only reserved for hero analysis, but the incident got him thinking about the figure with the kind eyes.
Who was that figure? It was hard to tell what gender they were, and it made Izuku shake his head when the questioners asked if he knew back at the station. They were pretty, Izuku can say that much, but it didn’t make it any less difficult— men can be pretty too, after all. From what Izuku could tell, they have a graceful and lithe figure, even though they were covered by the coat, and were average in height, right between most men and women. Their quirk, which Izuku speculates to be some sort of teleportation quirk, was simply amazing in Izuku’s eyes. It was strong— they were strong. They had taken down the villain effortlessly and quickly in one hit— er, technically two hits, but it was extremely minimal nonetheless.
But their eyes were what caught Izuku’s attention the most. It was almost the opposite of all the other people that Izuku met, who all had cold and deceiving eyes, besides his mother. Her’s was full of guilt along with the pity that most people had in theirs. Guilt, pity, disgust, indifference— nonetheless, it was different from all the negative things in all their eyes. The figure’s were warm and kind, even if their expression said otherwise. Izuku believed that their true feelings were hidden in people’s eyes after all.
(I t ’ s o n l y b e c a u s e t h e y d o n ’ t k n o w . )
(T h e y ’ l l r e g r e t s a v i n g y o u i f t h e y l e a r n e d w h a t y o u r e a l l y a re .)
(Y o u ' r e n o t h i n g b u t a u s e l e s s de k u .)
(Y o u c a n ' t b e a h e r o .)
(Y o u c a n ’ t e v e n s a v e o n e m a n .)
(I f i t w a s n ' t f o r t h e m , h e w o u l d b e d e a d t h a n k s t o y o u .)
(Y o u c a n ' t d o a n y t h i n g r i g h t .)
(D o pe o p l e a f a v o r a n d d i e.)
(E v e r y t h i n g w i l l b e o v e r t h e n .)
Izuku clenched his head, trying to force the voices away.
My name is Izuku, not Deku.
I'm going to be a hero.
I'm going to save people with a smile.
I'm going to make them feel safe.
“Izuku,” Inko called, “it’s time for bed.”
“Okay, Mom,” Izuku replied, closing his notebook and leaving the living room. Izuku put his notebook back on his shelf and headed to the restroom to brush his teeth and face, where Inko was preparing the water for a shower.
After Izuku brushed his teeth and washed his face, he expected Inko to leave to let him bathe, but Inko told him that she would be helping him today. Izuku, who had been bathing by himself for about a year now (he couldn’t let Mom see all his injuries), frowned a bit, but agreed. As Inko helped him bathe, the water being pleasantly warm, she frowned when Izuku flinched sometimes when the water stug some open cuts on his body, but stayed silent. The whole time, the voices were screeching. As always, Izuku simply chanted reassurances in hopes to quiet them.
My name is Izuku, not Deku.
I'm going to be a hero.
I'm going to save people with a smile.
I'm going to make them feel safe.
When Izuku was neatly tucked into his All Might themed bed sheets, and Inko turned the lights off for him to sleep, he couldn’t help but squeeze his All Might plush tightly as he chanted reassurances to keep the voices down. They had been louder and more persistent ever since the villain attack, and the fact that the voices being louder before he slept was a regular, it made tonight’s unbearable.
My name is Izuku, not Deku.
I'm going to be a hero.
I'm going to save people with a smile.
I'm going to make them feel safe.
That night he dreamed of running away from distorted embodiments of the voices, who screamed and crawled after him with tangled limbs sprawling out of inhuman bodies. Running in an endless dark abyss, with shadows following him as the voices screamed, growing louder and larger until it towered over him like a great, black mountain with disfigured faces and tangled limbs all over it.
The shadows laughed in the background, their heinous laughter ringing in his ears as the giant creature picked him up with a gnarly hand, holding him over itself before the mass of darkness split in the middle to reveal a gaping mouth full with wicked curved teeth that gleamed like razors. Still hearing the laughter of the shadows, Izuku was dropping into the mouth of the creature, the darkness swallowing him.
Thankfully, the cruel nightmare ended before the creature devoured him entirely, and Izuku leaped up from his bed, his body drenched in cold sweat.
The voices were humming and whispering as Izuku ate breakfast, and Izuku fought the urge to clamp his hands around his ears in front of Inko. They had never been this persistent before— or as loud. It seemed that the villain attack had made the voices even more unbearable. It was beginning to drive him insane.
(I t w i l l a l l b e o v e r .)
Hoping to clear his head with fresh air, Izuku stepped out of the house to head to the neighborhood park.
“Be careful, Izuku,” Inko said with worry, “I mean it. Don’t talk to strangers, don’t cross the big streets, and don’t be reckless. I don’t want to dress anymore injuries.”
Izuku nodded and headed off. Normally he would speak reassurances and promise her the very promises he had broken much too many times now until the meaning of promise sounded meaningless to his ears— but with his head ringing so loudly, he could only give her a pressed smile, hoping that his agony didn’t leak through his carefully controlled expressions.
As soon as he left the house, the apartment door closing behind with a soft click , a tidal wave of voices roared at him, howling like a snarling, wild beast throwing itself at its cage— untamed and unhindged.
(Q u i r k l e s s W o r t h l e s s U s e l e s s W e a k P a t h e t i c D e k u D E k u D e K u De K U D E k u D e K U D E k U D E K U )
Izuku closed his eyes, and repeated his mantra, his hand gripping the door knob too tightly.
My name is Izuku, not Deku.
(Y o u ’ l l n e v e r b e a h e r o . )
I'm going to be a hero.
(Y o u c o u l d n ' t e v e n s a v e o n e m a n . )
I'm going to save people with a smile.
( E v e r y o n e h a t e s y o u . )
I'm going to make them feel safe.
( H o w c a n y o u b e a h e r o w h e n y o u c a n ’ t e v e n s a v e y o u r s e l f ? )
( Y o u ’ l l n e v e r b e a n y t h i n g b u t a Q u i r k l e s s D e k u . )
I'm going to…
Izuku paused in his steps when he finally arrived at the park, looking down in sorrow as tears resurfaced at full force, the droplets streaming down his freckled cheeks in trails and cascaded down to the grey sidewalk.
I’m going to be so much ( w i l l y o u r e a l l y b e ? )…
But what I am I now?
I’m nothing but Quirkless.
Qui r kle s s,
Q ui r kle s s,
Q u i rk l es s,
Q
U
I
R
K
L
E
S
S
!
!
. . .
Izuku hunched his body, curling in himself as he stood in front of the park entrance, crying silently. People simply maneuvered around him and continued on their way, the crowd parting and merging around him. Some sparing pitiful glances at the boy's crying form, or steered their own children, who were bright and curious, away from Izuku.
No one cares.
Izuku wiped his tears, which kept falling time after time, and walked to an isolated park bench under a tree, and sat down. From there, he could see children, who were too young to attend school, playing happily, laughing and yelling at the park’s playground, so full of happiness and innocence.
Izuku smiled dryly. How ironic that this joyful scene was of the same playground that he and Katsuki had often played at when they were younger— the very same one that Katsuki had beaten him black and blue in. He wondered: Will the children playing there right now turn out broken like him?
Izuku watched in envy as the children laughed together with boundless energy.
He wanted to go back— back to the days when quirks weren’t everything, he and Katsuki were still friends, and Inko was smiling brightly at him. He wanted to go back to the days when he smiled genuinely— when he was truly happy— before society rejected him and treated him like a class below all the others. But that was impossible.
A new surge of tears joined Izuku’s wet shirt as he wiped them on his sleeve, along with all the snot from his nose. It was only then that Izuku noticed someone beside him on the park bench from his periferal. Izuku quickly turned to face the individual with astonished, watery eyes, his eyes only growing wider when he saw who exactly was sitting beside him.
There beside him, was the figure with the olive coat, with their hood down and gazing away with a tranquil expression, not betraying any emotion. With their hood down, Izuku could see their dark brown hair, with their front being short, crowning their fair cheeks, two pieces of hair above each of their ears a bit longer, almost coming down to their shoulders, and the rest being extremely long, kept in a messy braid. They seemed to almost shine under the sunlight, and Izuku couldn’t help but widen his eyes in admiration.
“H-Hero-san… ?”
His voice was a weak whisper, but they had heard it.
They turned to face Izuku, staring at him as if they were questioning him. He started to blush, realizing what he had called them. Izuku quickly hid his crimson face in his knees, peeking at the figure occasionally. They had already faced away from him again, looking out into the distance with the same perfectly expressionless face. The two sat there, Izuku still sniffling occasionally, in peace; No pity, no judgement, no nothing; Just silence. It was calming and reassuring in a strange way, and Izuku closed his eyes, not even noticing that the voices had resided back to their deep, dark caverns.
“Child.”
Izuku opened his eyes, looking towards his hero, taken by surprise of the sudden break in silence. Their voice was gentle and soothing, and it was just as reassuring and pleasant as their presence— it made Izuku want to bask in it.
“Why were you crying?”
Izuku looked away, not saying a word as he stared at the grass growing around the bench’s legs.
“Can you not tell anyone?”
“If that’s what you wish.”
“Pinky promise?”
Izuku held out his pinky, and they held out theirs to intertwine them together.
“You have to say it.”
A look of amusement briefly passed their face. “I pinky promise.”
Izuku wiped his eyes, and he smiled at this mysterious, yet strangely empowering person that was his hero. “Ok, I’ll tell you, Hero-san.”
“Phoenix.”
“Huh?”
“You can call me Phoenix, child.”
“O-Oh. Okay, Phoenix-san.”
Izuku gulped, before opening his mouth to speak.
“T- The voices… they were being too loud,” Izuku said, twirling his fingers with his shirt, “They randomly tell me… bad things, but ever since the villain attack, t-thank you for that Phoenix-san, they’ve gotten more louder all the time, and won’t stop bothering me. A-And— I’m… I’m starting to think that they’re right… not all the time, but— I feel like there’s some truth in them, even if they are mean. I mean… that’s why they keep telling me, right… ?”
“What do they tell you?”
“T-They…” Izuku hesitated before answering in a meek voice, “They tell me all sorts of things, like how I’m a D-Deku, that a nickname for me, and how I’m useless worthless, I’m quirkless, and how I will never be a hero— or anything really.”
Izuku waited for the shock and disgust to appear on their face, and prepared for all the harsh words or actions that will come. He knows— he knows he’s broken— no normal person would have voices swimming around in their heads— he was just Quirkless and broken. But as Izuku prepared himself for the other’s reaction, Phoenix had simply blinked.
“I see,” they said, looking away from Izuku’s face to stare out to the playground in front of them, “Well, the voices are wrong.”
“E-Eh?”
“It may be true that you’re quirkless, that doesn’t define you. No one is worthless or useless, and anyone can be anything they want to be. It’s just that certain things require more effort, time, preparation, overall everything for certain people. that includes you.”
Izuku’s eyes opened dramatically, as he gave Phoenix the most starstruck look Izuku can manage. Tears were streaming down his face again, but they weren’t from sorrow— it was from genuine shock and happiness. When was the last time he had felt this happy? This astonished? Everyday had been an endless cycle of sorrow and cruelty, and that cycle has now been broken under a couple of positive words. The words have been simple, yes, but those meant the world to him. Suddenly, the screams howled in his mind, thrashing around wildly and savagely against his consciousness.
(N O N O N O N O N O T h e y ’ r e W r o n g —
Y o u ’ r e j u s t a D e k u , a U s e l e s s , W o r t h l e ss D e k u t h a t w i l l b e n o t h i n g b u t a Q u i r k l e ss F R E A K o f s o c i e t y ! ! ! )
Izuku yelped, clenching his head, and he began to hyperventilate when the voices became unbearingly overwhelming.
( J u s t D I e J U s t D i E J U s T D I E J U S T D I E — )
Izuku felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, and the first time in years, the screaming voices grew entirely silent, like they were never there to begin with. The touch was warm, so kind and reassuring, that it made Izuku want to cry as he drowned into the feeling forever. After years of people avoiding him like the plague, when was the last time he was touched so gently like this?
“It’s alright, child. They’re wrong. You’re incredibly bright, capable of doing so many great things.”
Izuku gasped out, his breathing evening as more tears fell from Izuku’s eyes.
“D-Do you think I can be a hero?” He asked through his watery emerald eyes as he clung to Phoenix in desperation, “Even though I’m quirkless?”
I need to hear it— please I just want to hear it once—!
A small, gentle smile replaced the previously stoic expression on Phoenix’s fair face. Though it was small, just the slightest upturn of their lips, it seemed mountainous in Izuku’s eyes.
“Of course you can. You’ll be a great hero, Izuku.”
With those words, it was like color was returning to his dim world, as the simple words breathed new hope into him. Izuku cried out before lunging into Phoenix’s arms, squeezing them tight like a lifeline as he cried loudly.
Although he wasn’t paying much attention to how Phoenix would react, he was relieved and incredibly happy to feel their warm presence wrap around him in a soothing and firm embrace. The voices were like a void now; not a single sound was heard from them, not a whisper or even a quiet hum. Just silence.
It was strange, but incredibly relieving, like a weight had been lifted off his chest. Izuku smiled so widely and brightly that his cheeks hurt, but it was completely different from all the hurt he had gotten before . It was like he was completely reawoken, and everything was so different. It was so satisfying and refreshing, yet terrifying; But in Phoenix’s reassuring embrace, Izuku knew that everything would turn out just fine.
“Detective Tsukauchi, we have a report on Vanish,” an officer said, placing a file on the detective’s neat desk, “They were involved in another villain attack near XXXXX, and saved 2 civilians, one a man victim to an attempted murder by a new villain now in custody, 42 year old XXX XXXX and the other a boy, age 6, Midoriya Izuku, a witness that was about to get murdered.”
The detective sighed as he turned his swivel chair to face the officer.
“Vanish, huh? Tell me more.”
“According to the witness, Midoriya Izuku, they had kept appearing and disappearing instantaneously in gusts of wind.”
The detective tsked.
“They’re quite troublesome. So far, we only have him saving people that were about to get killed, so I don’t think they’re doing anything harmful, but they’re still unpredictable and a dangerous outlaw with an unidentified quirk. Anything new to add to the description?”
“No, sir. The same coat and everything. Nothing new.”
“Anything for them overall? What about after the incident? Did we find out where they went?”
“No sir, they’re unpredictable and mysterious always. Didn’t leave a trace. They really are ‘Vanish.’”
“Hmm… Well, they’re not a major threat right now, seeing as they have only used their quirk to save civilians. We have other priorities. Is that all?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Very well, you may leave.”
The officier bowed and left the room, leaving the detective to his own thoughts.
Vanish…
Quirk, not entirely known— they have some sort of teleportation thing going on, and we suspect some type of healing quirk as well.
They save people that were about to die, most of them being in places most heros, excluding the underground ones, don’t patrol. Completely at random too.
They don't cover their face, they don’t have a vigilante outfit, just casual wear with a hood— that part is strange. They just drop in, save people, and leave without a trace. We don’t even know if they’re male or female. Or are they something else?
Anyway, from what I know, they’re also not found in the system. It would have been easy to pinpoint them if they were in the system; Healing and Teleportation quirks are extremely rare, after all. It’s a powerful one too; The victim was supposed to be in critical condition, according to the witness’ description of their injuries and the victim’s clothing, but when authorities got there, the victim was barely hurt.
Detective Tsukauchi drummed his fingers against the desk absentmindedly.
You sure are an interesting one, Vanish. Hopefully you mean well, but as an illegal vigilante, which qualifies you as a confirmed villain, we must bring you to justice.