Chapter Text
Honestly, if you asked Izuku, he would say that being reincarnated was the universe’s way of punishing him for taking his own life. Being reincarnated as a quirkless kid, again , in a society where it's even rarer to be born quirkless is just cruel. Despite being abandoned by his parents, receiving death threats daily, and always having some kind of injury, Izuku ( or I guess it's Mikumo now ) can confidently say he won't be taking his own life again. No point in risking it getting worse.
All of that is to say that even though Mikumo’s life is torture, he’s mostly apathetic to it now.
Key word: mostly.
“Hey Mushi. Ya hear?” Kobayashi asked as he smacked the back of Mikumo’s head hard enough that his forehead smacked his desk.
Luckily his notebook cushioned the impact.
“Yea, Mushi. Did ya hear about Dynamight coming to visit?” Migita cut in, causing Mikumo’s head to shoot up and actually look at his classmates for the first time since elementary school.
The hero convention where Dynamight had a fan meet up was only a few days ago. Not quite a week yet, but almost. The middle schooler didn’t even know why he went. Sure, he still loved heroes, (even if he’s more selective with said appreciation now) but he didn’t need to reveal who he was to Kacchan. The man would have never known his old childhood friend turned bully victim had been reincarnated had Izuku not opened his big mouth.
It’s Mikumo now. Get it together.
“Well I guess that answers that. Little Mushi had no idea now did he?” Migita continued condescendingly.
“Poor Mushi. Probably too busy scribbling jiberish in his little notebook to notice.” Kobayashi snickered. Mikumo rolled his eyes after he lowered his head once again. You're one to talk with a name so close to manure.
The teen couldn’t help but be a bit smug at the mention of the “gibberish” in his notebook though. He had learned from his previous life that writing in his notebooks would eventually lead to someone trying to read them, so he came up with a code to ensure no one understood what they said. It was much better to have people think he was a stupid weirdo then a creepy stalker.
It was better to be underestimated and pitied then viewed as a creep that needs to be put in their place.
As the two other boys continued with their mocking, Izu-Mikumo continued thinking about the new information shared. Dynamite wasn’t really the type to visit schools. Sure, there were some rumors that he planned to become a teacher or atleast a surprise training assistant at U.A. someday but visiting a random school? A school that Mikumo just so happens to attend only a few days after revealing himself?
Yea. Kachan wasn’t known for being subtle.
“Ok Null?”
“H-huh?” the black hair teen so eloquently asked when he noticed the eyes on him.
“Oh no, is the little quirkless Mushi going deaf?” Kobayashi questioned with fake sympathy.
“What should we do, Yashi?” The goon played along.
Kobayashi gained a cruel smirk. “Guess we’ll just have to show him what we ment.”
In the next moment, the red-eyed teen was grabbed and dragged by his arms to the supply locker in the back of the classroom. He barely fought back, knowing it was futile. The whole class knew what was happening. Some watching and laughing, others ignoring it, some acting as if it was just a group of friends messing around. No one would help him even if he screamed. He knew from experience.
Once he was thrown inside, Kobayashi towered over him with a grin. “Class is about to start so make sure not to make any noise. Don’t want anyone getting mad for being distracting do you?” That was a familiar threat. “Hope you like your new seat, Null.”
With that, the taller teen slammed the door shut leaving Mikumo to get used to the darkness of his small prison once again.