This couldn't be happening.
Everything Izuku Midoriya belived in denied the sight before him.
But, then again, what did he believe anymore? Hope? Peace? Justice? Heroism?
Peace shouldn't look down on a broken boy and shatter his last clinging spark of childish dreams, which he had moulded his life around. Heroism shouldn't bully a boy who admires him simply because he lacks a quirk. Justice shouldn't look the other way as this boy is burned and wounded. Hope shouldn't keep silent at the tear streaks on her son's face or his well hidden damaged limbs.
No. Those things should not happen.
But they did.
And now, Izuku Midoriya stood at the outside of a crowd, clutching his mouth and ruined notebook, and watched as his friend struggle to breathe.
Bakugo Katsuki had tormented Izuku for ten years. His teachers looked the other way. All Might had delivered the final blow. His mother, loving and kind though she was and though he loved her dearly, didn't know how to help him. The world rose up in unison as the crowd murmured like Olympic watchers at the scene before them and shouted at him that he was incapable of being a hero.
And, in the face of all of that, Izuku ran. He ran as hard as he could, shoving past people and nearly losing his notebook.
He ran for his life.
He ran away.
He stumbled through the streets, falling a few times and ripping his clothes, to a dark alley way where his weak legs gave out. He nearly fell to his face, huddling beside a garbage dumpster and the brick wall. Sobs wracked his feeble frame as he clutched his damaged notebook even closer.
He was a coward. Did he not care for Kacchan? Had he not always aspired to own even a fraction of the volatile teen's power? It wouldn't have mattered what his quirk was, if he had been blessed with one, Kacchan would have never turned on Izuku.
Wishful thinking.
The harsh reality of the world finally settled with all of its crushing weight on Izuku's exhausted shoulders. There was no love for him outside of his mother's embrace, and even she couldn't help him. Oh how he wished he was in her arms at this moment, to wail his agony to her. To make clear all his troubles. To have her get angry as she rarely did and have her rise to protect him at all costs. To-
"Uhm."
Izuku's head shot upwards, wide eyed. It so happened that he wasn't alone in that alleyway.
A rather surprised teenaged boy, around 18 or 19 by the looks of his built frame, was sitting in the other end of the alleyway. He was well tanned, with messy brown hair highlighted by a few odd white tufts, and deep eyes. Izuku couldn't tell in the darkness if they were brown or grey, but they captured his whole attention in a steadfast grip. He looked at home in the alleyway without seeming to be a bum, as if areas such as this were a frequent for the strange teen.
He, looking dressed well enough in a jacket, nice, long jeans, and expensive looking, although slightly dirty, tennis shoes, clashed drastically with Izuku's messed hair, torn school uniform, and tear stained face.
"Are, you ok little buddy? You kind've, rushed in here without checking if you were alone or not."
Izuku leapt to his feet, bowing deeply and repetitively as he had done with All Might only minutes before.
"Ohmygoodness, yes, Iamsosorry. Sorrysorrysorry, I'llleave." He turned to leave, and embarrassingly tripped over his own feet.
"Woah!" The boy dashed forward, grabbing Izuku by the shoulders and lifting him to his feet once again. "Clearly bro, you most certainly are not okay. Why don't we talk about it?" Izuku cast a worried glance up at the teen, remembering how his mother would warn him not to talk with people he didn't know while he was out hero hunting. The guy noticed the look and laughed genuinely. "Don't worry about it. I don't wanna hurt you. I wanna help you, which is why I'm offering to help talk you through whatever is upsetting you right now."
Izuku shuffled, thinking of how his problems spanned so far back into his childhood. And it did hurt so much to think about it currently. "It's rather complicated and long, and I don't think I can." His mouth, previously drawn into a line, started to quiver and wobble as tears threatened to begin again.
The teen shrugged. "Alright. I can talk. From my experience, talking with someone else and talking yourself, when you're ready that is, is one of the greatest cures for any problem." The boy thrust his bottom jaw out, tilting his head up and thinking while he thrust his paint covered hands into his jacket and leaned back against the wall. "Now, let's see. What's interesting about me? I'm almost 19, so I'm a legal adult, I have a convertible, I have a single dad, could've had a career in sports but I didn't want too." His slow voice trailed off as he got caught up in a train of thought.
"Why are you here in the alley?" Izuku's voice was timid, he didn't want to pry, but he was deeply curious. "It sounds like you gave such an easy life to enjoy out in the sun. Why be in here with the garbage?" He had to restrain himself from adding 'like me' at the end of his question.
The teen raised an eyebrow. "You really didn't look when you burst in here huh?" There was a hint of mirth to his tone as he stepped to the side and gestured to the walls. Izuku gasped.
The walls were covered in paint. From gentle strokes with a brush, to strong areas from a can, there was barely a three centimeter gap to be seen on either wall. Animals, people, places. Izuku stepped around in circles, awestruck at the sight before him.
"Woah." His voice was quiet still, but it overflowed with reverence for the painstakingly detailed murals. "This is, AMAZING!"
The teen grinned in pride as Izuku stepped over trash to view a bird closer up. "Thank you. Areas like these are my pride and joys."
Izuku jumped suddenly, remembering something important. "Oh! I recognise this! I know who you are!"
The teen leaned backwards, looking concerned at izuku's sudden interest. "You, do?"
Izuku tapped his forehead repeatedly. "Yes yes yes, your art was on news one night, I put you down in my journal out of interest, oh right my journal!" Izuku was suddenly flipping through the damp pages, frantically searching for his entry on the graffitist. "Aha!" He shouted in triumph as the teen leaned forward to read. "Unknown graffiti artist. Unknown quirk, or usage of quirk. Rise to fame on social media through highly detailed art, each of which contains a depicted eagle. Has been dubbed 'Eagle' accordingly. Suspected use of quirk aide in painting of murals. Then, as a side note, I added, 'don't know who he is, or his quirk, but I would love to find out!'" Izuku snapped the book shut and looked up at Eagle, eyes sparking with his old excitement.
Eagle broke into a wide grin. He'd never had a talk with any of his fans before. Well, he'd come across a few, but he didn't want to announce that HE was the guy they were talking about. So to have a young teen, only a few years younger than he was, have such notes on him, and to get so excited over the prospect of meeting him that he was jumping up and down like a little bunny, made him blush a little out of embarrassment.
Just a little though.
Izuku shot out his hand. "I'm so excited to meet you!"
Eagle gladly shook his young fan's hand, glowing with gratitude. "I'm pleased to meet you as well! And-" He let go, stepping to the entrance of the alleyway and looking around quickly. He stepped back in, looking like a puppy who had just been adopted. "Do you wanna see my quirk in action?"
Izuku's heart soared. He shook his head vigorously, forgetting the legality of such an action as he whipped his notebook back open and swiftly started erasing his notes without tearing the pages. Eagle stepped through the alleyway, picking a painting of his name sake. He put his hands over it as Izuku held his breath. Slowly, gently, Eagle reached into the wall, through the painted areas, and cupped his hands around the bird. It blinked, and folded it's outstretched wings down by its side. Eagle slowly pulled his favorite animal out of the wall and set it gently on his arm. An outline of the bird remained where it had been on the wall, while the painted animal shook itself mightily.
Eagle grinned down at his creation, before nodding Izuku over. "Come on. She won't bite."
Izuku came over cautiously. Up close he realized that the bird was not only made of paint, but was fully three dimensional as well. He followed Eagle's gentle lead and stroked the top of the painted bird's head, paint smudging his fingers. It closed its ink black eyes and pushed up against his touch.
"Heh, she likes you."
"This, this is amazing!" Izuku's fingers travelled to underneath her beak, scratching her chin and neck. "Even Kacchan couldn't hope for anything such as this!"
He realized his slip up as soon as Eagle asked "Kacchan, who is that?"
Slowly, Izuku told his new friend his tale; how everything and one seemed pitted against him, how he had been bullied and tormented, how he had just given up hope and ran away from his friend in need.
Eagle listened through it all without a word, letting Izuku talk himself out. At the end, so exhausted was he that he almost fell over and passed out from the days events and his long rant. Eagle kept him steadied with one strong, paint covered hand.
"Alright little Bunny, it's late. I'm sure your mother is worried. I'll walk you home."
Indeed, the sky was nearly black as they trudged through the city. At last, Eagle was gently guiding him up the stairs to his apartment. Then the teen had knocked on his door and was now talking with his mother-
Wait.
Izuku's eyes focused as he was handed into his mother's embrace. Had he gone through that whole walk like a walking stick?
"- and with respect Miss, I won't intrude. You two need to talk alone, so I'll leave you be."
Inko smiled sweetly up at the teen, pulling him down and planting a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you dear. I'm glad Izuku has a friend like you."
The door was shut and Izuku was left to answer the many worried questions of his mother. Unable to lie to his mother with his unbearably tired mind, he told her everything as well. He denied being pulled from school. He would just enter the same situation elsewhere, and it was his last year of middle school anyway. Might as well finish.
At last, he was herded to his bedroom with the reminder to change into pajamas before he fell asleep. He laid in bed, somehow still awake, and thought over his hectic day.
He had no idea, how his life would have changed from that point on.
