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The thunder rumbled monstrously in the background, dangerous and violent. Rageful. It was unclear what could cause such a storm. Only mere moments ago, the sky had been plainly clear. Nothing but the twinkling of shy stars. Now the calm beauty had been replaced by a rumbling gray. There seemed to be some mysterious energy haunting the air, a manic breeze that chilled anyone who dared venture out of their homes to the bone.
Heroes stared up at the storm with a suspicious glare in their eyes. They knew this strange turn of events wasn’t the unpredictable acts of nature, but rather instead caused by a wicked quirk. Erasurehead was the first up at the line, trying to catch sight at who was causing such a mess. It couldn’t go on forever, their culprit was likely to come out at some point.
Hidden away, in the heart of the rain, sat a boy. Drenched to the bone, His forest green hair had turned an oily black under the never ending downpour. His eyes were wet with tears, combining seamlessly with the droplets running down pale cheeks. Scars lined any visible skin that peeked out from a thin uniform. It hugged tightly to his grieving figure. Sobs wracked his shoulders, a visible show to the endless sobbing that couldn't be heard over the heavy rain.
The clouds seemed to swirl in a response to his vicious emotions that battled back and forth. He knew this change in weather was a response to his tormenting grief, and yet he couldn’t force his racing heart to calm. What a horrible time for this quirk to awaken. It hadn’t dared to show its head before, hadn’t dared to come out when it was so desperately needed. It waited until he was at the end of his limit and then ruined everything he’s worked for.
UA had been his goal for so long. He hasn’t hurt anyone, hasn’t stolen anything, hasn’t done some of the things he so desperately wanted to do , all so he could become a hero. Someone who could save people. And now it was all over. Forever. Lightning crackled.
Soon, a hero would burst through the roof door and arrest him. God. He’d fucked up so bad. But how was he supposed to control this? It had come from nowhere. Bullied an entire life for nothing. Stupid, he was so stupid. This entire day had been a disaster; First those bullies with their suicide baiting, then being ambushed by that sludge villain (When he breathes, he thinks he can still feel the slick goo in his lungs), next it had been Allmight with his refusal, and right after he’d been left alone on the top of that building. Alone. It’d been so hard not to jump. His mother would miss him, and so would Kacchan. He’d like to think so, atleast. Their friendship had just started to be repaired, and now it would be ruined.
He still hasn’t left this roof, even when a familiar explosion wrung through the air and an outrageous shout filled the silence. Kacchan had been in trouble, but he hadn’t been able to move a muscle. Terrible, he was a terrible friend.
He’s sure there’d been someone on this roof just a couple minutes ago. Their voice had been soft and smooth, urging his wary attention. Even still, he hadn’t bothered, words falling completely deft. It had been coaxing, trying to take him away somewhere. For a strange reason, he doesn’t feel that they were good people. If they were, they wouldn’t have left at his purposeful ignorance. No one had truly cared before, no one that wasn’t his mom or Kacchan. If the powerful teen actually meant it and wasn’t lying to make him feel better. Which doesn’t happen. For as much Kacchan hates to present weak, he’s never had any problems saying what’s exactly on his mind. As embarrassing or out of pocket it may seem. Which, surprisingly, is how they made up. All it took was a single sentence too far, and suddenly it was like he wanted to take everything back. Kacchan had even confessed that he didn’t like what he was becoming. It had been surreal. How could someone not like what they’ve become when they’ve had control this entire time?
And now the boy on the roof understood. He hated what he’s become. Knowing how but unable to stop this raging storm. All he had to do was calm down. Calm down.
And then his vision tunneled and his breathing picked up, bony fingers digging into milky skin as the pain built up and spilled over again. The world didn’t seem real like this, sitting below and beginning to flood. If he didn’t quit this stupid… tantrum; then people could get hurt. Houses would be ruined. Hell, they probably already were and it’s all his fault. Someone could die. Thunder growls.
He was alone up here, and that made it all the worse, thoughts spinning and spinning like some wild tornado, cursed to sweep everything into its cursed path. He didn’t want to hurt people… right? This wasn’t what this was. It was all just grief over a dying dream. Not a deadly urge for this violent storm to go find aldera and drown it to the ground. Not a violent will for it to find every bully and explode them into bits. Not a desperate wish for it to sweep up AllMight and make him eat his own goddamn words. No. No this wasn’t that. It couldn’t be that.
He’s too worthless to be able to have any rotten wish granted. If he had them. Which he doesn’t. Because he’s a good person. Useless. But good. Kind. Loving. Willing to see the best in everyone. That’s who he was, right?
But then there are so many bad people who were once good and kind and loving. They all became evil at some point. What pushed them over the tempting edge? When did they go from good to evil? Was there really any deciding factor? They all used to be normal people. And he… He’s not normal but he’s close. What’s stopping him from crossing over the very, very fragile balance. No really. Why was it so tempting to throw away every moral he had and just… take everything he didn’t deserve but wanted. That would be so nice. No one would hurt him anymore.
No. Shit. No. He can’t think like that, that’s a guaranteed path to madness and he doesn’t want to be bad. He’s good. He’s good. He swears he’s good. But someone good wouldn’t allow for this storm to continue thundering down. If anyone gets hurt, then it all falls on him. Does that make him bad? No. Someone bad wouldn’t be trying desperately to calm down.
His thoughts are circling, piling on top of eachother in a jumbled mess. His head is anything but clear, and getting worse with every ticking second. It’s not too late. He could jump.
Down below stand an army of heroes from all over the area. Hawks, Mirko, Erasure Head, Present Mic, Midnight, Ectoplasm, Ingenium, Radar, and even Tsukauchi from the police force. Most of the bigger heroes were too busy to involve themselves with an out of control quirk. AllMight was nowhere to be seen.
Radar stood closest to the building, staring up through narrowed eyes. The rest of the heroes watched on in silence as she worked, waiting patiently for her report. Finally, the woman spun around, nodding shortly. “There’s one person, all the way on the roof. No one else from what I can tell. I don’t know if he’s hostile or not, just shivering and breathing at an unhealthy speed. And…” Her brows furrow in concern, glancing back for one more look, “He seems young.”
“How young?” Hawks asks, shifting his weight from one foot to another. He was known for being quick in the air, too fast for his own good. But he couldn’t fly with drenched wings. The only reason he was here was due to the hero commission's demand he report to any scene he comes across. Unlucky for him, he’d just so happened to pass by holding a bucket of fresh KFC and become dragged into it just at the first raindrops started to fall. Mirko stood beside him, simply here because she’d been accompanying him. And as a true friend, she hadn’t left his side.
Midnight had finally been able to round up their old crew, just to get an urgent phone call of strange weather starting to form. Of course, heroing always came before partying, so she, Shota, and Hizashi, had been the first ones to respond. She couldn’t be too sure of when Ectoplasm and Ingenium arrived, only that they had.
“So, who’s going up?” Asked Tsukauchi, turning away from the daunting building. He seemed a little put off by the overwhelming number of heroes that decided to show up. “If he’s young and shaking- there’s a good chance it’s just panic and not an actual threat. So whoever decides to go up, peace first. Alright?” In response, the line up nodded simultaneously. Eyes passing over the group, the detective knew it was he who had to decide. “Midnight, you’re good with kids and if things go hay-wire you can deescalate the situation. Can I trust you to go up there alone?”
Nemuri nodded, stepping forwards with a playful wink to her friends. “Of course, I don’t think anything will go wrong, my charm can put any man at ease.” Her body swayed confidently as she walked, but going up she knew she’d have to tone it all down. Despite contrary belief, she’s great with children, abuse victims, all sorts of stuff. Her whole brand is just dependent on her more… flashy side. One that steals away all the attention of the media. Her more docile side has always stayed hidden on the field. Now, however, it would be exactly what they needed.
“If you take too long I’ll send someone in after you.” Tsukauchi hummed, watching with some amount of anxiety as she started up the stairs. It doesn’t help that the wind begins to pick up violently, silently urging them to seek shelter. But they were heroes, and heroes didn’t back down because of a little weather.
The trip up was daunting, each step creaking her shoes. The walls groan against the storm, fighting desperately to not succumb to its wicked anger. Her anxiety grows the higher she climbs, grip on the rail becoming slightly tighter. What exactly would she find up there? Perhaps a young man who’d been having a rough time, or perhaps someone who was just so angry at the world that they decided they wanted it to hurt as much as they have. No matter what it turned out to be, she wouldn’t back down.
The boy on the roof turned his head slightly as the handle on the fading blue door jostled. They were here. They were here to take him and ruin his future. Why was he complaining? He deserved that. His fingers were tangled deep in his dripping hair, scratching lightly as his scalp. Anxiety burned ferociously under his skin, packed tightly with his grief and sorrow and anger. He hated his anger. Hated that it existed at all.
It’s a little disheartening to see a single hero step onto the roof, but what was he expecting? An entire army to sweep him away? But it was just- one hero. Fuck. He knew he wasn’t worth anything but this- this just seemed laughable. God. He was pathetic.
Of course, he recognized Midnight in her costume, with a quirk that could put anyone who breathes it to sleep. It wouldn’t work as fast in this weather, and was likely to be blown all across the city if she wasn’t careful. He turned away. Her heels clicked as she wandered over, and for a moment he believes that she’s going to just pick him up and forcefully drag him down the stairs. Instead, however, she takes a calm seat on the soaked ground next to him, uncaring of the dirty water. He’s almost surprised. Midnight had always taken pride in being clean and attractive. That didn’t seem to be the case now, wiping hair away from her eyes and accidently smudging a slight mud against her pale skin. “Hey kid, what are you doing up here?” She starts calmly.
The boy’s gaze shifts minimally over, scooting away slightly to create more distance. Not that it mattered. The moment she decided that she was done she could easily just drag him out. He debates not answering, drowning in his depression. But some hero worship that still beats in his heart pulls the words from his lungs; “I was left.”
“By who?” She inquires. He gives her a long look, debating if she’d even believe him. Of course she wouldn’t. No one would. Sure, the whole shutting down his dreams thing was believable, but being left alone? On this god forsaken roof? Nope. He looked back into the distance, moving his hands to fold over his chest. “Alright, Alright, you don’t have to tell me. I’m Midnight, but you can call me Kayama, what’s your name, Sweetheart?”
That grabs his attention. She’d just told him her name- like, her actual name. Not the entirety of it, but one part of her name. No. No. He’s being stupid- she probably gives everyone she’s talking to causally her name. She doesn’t care. This is just for appearances. “Um, Izuku.”
“Well Izuku, do you know anything about this storm?” She sits back, offering a sweet smile. For a moment, it almost seems to lower his guard. Why is he trying? He’s known from when this all started that this would happen. It’s as though all his fight has left, leaving nothing but a shell of who he once was.
“Yeah.” He murmurs, head dipping down. The droplets feel like needles, shooting down the dark sky. “It’s my… quirk. I guess.” There didn’t seem to be a doubt in his mind that it didn’t belong to him. Just a well of knowledge that this was his. His and no one else's. A laugh bubbled out, “And- And isn’t that just- just so stupid. No really, I’ve been quirkless all my goddamn life and now my quirk finally decides to come in and fuck me over .” He thinks he’s crying through the hysteria, but it’s hard to tell compared to the rain dripping down his cheeks. “Everything that’s been done- All of it was for- was for nothing.”
Midnight looks at him with a sorrowful, wide eyed expression, reaching out gently. “Is it alright if I hug you?” She asks sweetly. The question catches him off guard and yeah, no, definitely crying. Seeing no refusal, she scoot close and wraps her arms around his shivering form, pulling him into her welcoming warmth. At once, it’s like the flood gates open, and suddenly he’s full on sobbing, fingers digging into her expensive uniform. She doesn’t care as snot and tears stain it either, just pulling him closer and running her fingers through her hair.
“It’s alright.” She whispers when his hiccupping starts to calm down. “You’re ok.”
Weirdly enough, the storm starts to calm when he runs out of tears. The clouds don’t completely fade, and the rain doesn't truly stop. But the thunder settles to sleep, and the pouring shifts into a shower. “I’m sorry-” He croaked, “I’m- I’m not bad- I didn’t mean to hurt anyone, I’m sorry.”
“It’s ok, sweetie.” She shushed, pulling back to get a better view of his face. He’s younger than she thought, baby fat still present in his round cheeks. Of course she knew he was young, but this was before high school young. “Quirks awakening from nowhere can be scary, did something happen today that triggered it?”
Izuku sniffled pathetically, shifting away and wiping at his pitiful face. “Y-yeah. Um. Just some bullies and then-” His breath hitched, and the wind seemed to chill. Midnight still had a grounding hand squeezing his shoulder comfortingly, “there was this villain made of sludge and” He can still feel it, “ Allmight was there and he said I-I couldn’t be a hero without a quirk, Which is- Which is true. And then I was on this roof and my quirk, it just, it started up and I couldn’t get it to stop.”
Kayama hummed to show she was listening, head tilting to the side. “I’m sorry, Izuku.”
“Sorry doesn’t fix anything.” He replies without a thought. The rain starts to beat a little heavier than before. “Am I in trouble?” He doesn’t even bother to think, of course he is . Simply staring at his soaked shoes with a quiet blankness.
“No you aren’t darling, quirk accidents happen. You will, however, probably be put into some intense quirk counseling.” She leaned forwards, stretching her arms over her head. “Now, you look cold. Why don’t we return you back home, Yeah?”
Izuku stares at her with a tearful expression before nodding shyly, “Yeah.”
They move to their feet, clothes sticking grossly to their bodies. Izuku’s shoulders held a slight shiver, chilled straight to the bone. The rain resumed its weak shower, and the wind lulled into a calming breeze. The door shut behind them with the gentle click of a lock.