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The chances of someone being quirkless is so low these days...yet that was what Izuku was labled as.
Quirkless.
Useless.
Pathetic in the eyes of society, really.
Before the diagnosis Izuku tried everything to get his Quirk. He was a late bloomer. But the quirks that take longer to appear are stronger, so he wasn't worried. Just impatient. Everyone knows there are people who first get there quirk under specific or traumatic situations. So he tried. And tried. And the longer it took, the more desprate he grew. Even picking fights with Bakugo for the harsh burns, bruises and the once off broken collar bone in hopes his hidden quirk would activate to help him.
But it didn't.
He soon took it to himself to make it appear. First just risky behaviour, jumping rooftops and climbing up small buildings for the adrenaline. When that didn't work he would pick fights with thugs who were rougher then Bakugo by far. But it only left him in a bloody pile of trash.
He was desprate.
Inko tried to curb his self inflicted habits and took him to the quirk doctor to help. To finally let Izuku know what his Quirk is to put an end to the anger and fights at school.
She wishes if she could go back and change that day. Go for ice-cream instead. Because the boy that walked out from that room, was not her son.
He became distant.
He became cold.
He became pissed.
Inko was scared to look at her little boy. His eyes looked to close to the anger of his father. And she couldn't go through with seeing him again. So she left. She payed for the rent and food. Anything he asked for was payed for. She just couldn't see the person her son had become.
Izuku didn't hate his mother for it. He understood. At least she could do something else rather then watch him fail. But nothing could get rid of the itching rage beneath his skin and in his lungs. So he continued his old habits. Hunting thugs down and becoming a pulp of blood on the ground in hopes that some miracle will grace him with a pitty quirk.
Something.
Anything.
The beatings were only days apart, when his body healed enough to continue, he did. He gave up on any kind of a lovely life. A lovely dream. One day he would pick a fight he would regret. And he would have an empty funeral.
That's what he thought.
No, what he knew would happen.
That was untill he at some point started winning more fights then he was loosing. Some feral rage pulsed through his blood and he was unbeatable in those moments. His breath and skin burning hot with rage as he would stand over thieves and villains. Night after night he hunted down villains and petty thugs like clockwork. The thrill of winning made some sadistic part of him continue threw out the night.
Yet he was so oblivious.
Whispers spread in the darkest parts of the night, of a monster wearing human skin.
A wolf in sheep's clothing.
A creature that would stalk you from the rooftops and behind corners like a predator hunting it's prey at any hour of the night.
You could never hear him coming, but it was clear what he was.
A warning. For any villain that dared to work in the area of Musutafu.
And the warning was clear.
So imagine how shocked the underground hero's were when the whole of Musutafu became a villain free zone in fear of a creature that roamed the night. And when they heard this 'creature' was sighted outside of it's usual areas the past few nights. Villains being hunted right below there noses, a mere street away and they never know until an hour later. It struck a fear into the hero's as well. But as much as they feared this 'creature', there were mixed ideas.
Someone who fights crime illegally is a vigilante.
But someone who simply beats a villain to a pulp and leaves without reporting it? Is not the actions a vigilante would do.
So what the hell is there motive?
And why are the villains so terrified of them?