The Boy With the Dragon Tattoo
Ch. 2 "The Dragon Tattoo"
Izuku awoke the next day to the sun blinding him, wincing with tired eyes.
He was still emotionally spent from everything that had happened yesterday. All the innocent people burned alive; the image of a wooden plank stuck through his mother's stomach still fresh in his mind.
—-—
'IZU!," his best friend called out to him as her mother carried her away.
'KACHAN!' he called back. As Izuku cried for his best friend since birth, violent fires roared and obscured his vision, no longer allowing him to see her. Hyperventilating, he turned and ran back to his house, hoping to find his mother. When he bent the corner, his worst fears had been realized. The building was on fire and had been partially destroyed. He walked through the remains and scrounged through the rubble, hoping to find his mother, or, what was left of her. After searching for about three minutes, he began to lose hope. Suddenly, there was a slight rumble to his left, and right away, he noticed the flowing, green hair that belonged to one Inko Midoriya. He made his way to her as fast as he could, but as he came closer, his face whitened, and tears gathered. Gazing at his mother, he could see that her midsection was penetrated by a wooden log, blood spewing everywhere and her guts smeared across her shirt and the log. Noticing him, she turned her head in his direction, and gave a small smile.
"Baby... what are you doing?," she said tiredly. "You have to get out of here."
"Mom...I-I can't leave you here. Y-You gotta come with me!"
"Izu, honey... look at me. Do you think I can do anything? Listen... You have to go on without me. I can't come with you. And I'm beyond saving."
Izuku began crying and closed his eyes. This was the last time he'd ever here his mother's voice.
"Hey... look at me," Inko said. "It's okay to cry. But you have to be brave right now. Look at your tattoo." Izuku looked at the marking that's been on his arm since birth.
"That tattoo was your father's. And his father's before that. And throughout the time they had it, they always told me it was a symbol of hope and courage. That's what it has to mean for you right now. Izu, you NEED TO HAVE COURAGE RIGHT NOW. You leave me. You leave Aunt Mitsuki and Katsuki. You leave this place, and run. And don't turn back. Whenever you feel all hope is lost, and you're at the end of the line, look at that tattoo. You'll be able to carry on."
As he sat up, Izuku dropped his eyes to his tattoo. 'Courage,' he thought.
—
Yesterday, if you had asked Izuku how big he thought this cave was, he'd have said the size of a small house. But, if you had said that it was a hollowed out cavern the size of a museum, he would have asked you if you're one of the men Sorahiko spoke of. That was the old man's name-Sorahiko Torino. He had told Izuku that he's currently sixty-nine years old, and had been wandering the lands and different kingdoms since he was thirty-five. Apparently, the man was also, unbelievably, a SORCERER! He had heard of the knights of the royal houses; great warriors that were taught the ways of magic by the ancient kings, and have passed down their magic to this day. Of course, every member of the royal family was allowed to use their magic as well. For no particular reason,(or at least he felt that way), Sorahiko told him that commoners were either not allowed to use magic, or flat out weren't allowed to learn it.
When Sorahiko said he could help him become strong, he never imagined that he meant "Against my better judgement, I could teach you magic." He was so excited that not even his newly bandaged arm could stop him. Of course, the old geezer had warned him about it, but he was way to enthusiastic to listen to him.
After getting dressed and washing up. Izuku made his way outside of the cave to the fields as the man had instructed.
"I'll say it one last time. Why. the hell. would you train with a broken arm?"
"Because, like you said," Izuku responded. "I wanna get stronger-in any way I can. If I do, I'll be able to know I can do something when people are in trouble."
"...Hmph. At least your reasons aren't complete crap. If you feel like you need a break, just say so and we'll stop. And if you get hurt again, it's not my fault," Sorahiko said with a flat face.
"First off, in order to conjure magic for the first time, one must clear their mind of all thoughts, and focus on your breathing. That way, you're sorcery energy can flow freely without restrictions. Follow my movements." He straightened his body and clasped his hands together, and so, Izuku did the same. Well, he couldn't bunch together his hands, so he stood as upright as he could, and that would have to be enough.
"Tell me what you feel, Izuku. Is your body tranquil? Can you feel a sort of...energy?"
As Izuku continued to breath and empty his thoughts, he could feel a sort of energy surrounding his body.
"Yeah... it's like it's telling me to come get it. To embrace it and let it out. Should I?"
"Not yet. This is good, though. The energy has accepted you fast. Your magic potential is high. Very high." Izuku smiled.
"Focus! Never get too high or too low. Now... I will show you what it looks like to summon magic." Sorahiko put his hand out face up and a faint, yellow light started to Emanate from his palm. It spread over his whole body and then dissipated, leaving only his pupils left glowing gold.
"Woah," Izuku said
"If you're impressed now," said Sorahiko. Suddenly, he was gone from his spot. Izuku wondered were he could have went, and then he saw two boot marks where he stood.
"You really have no idea how crazy things can get."
Izuku looked behind him and his jaw dropped. The man was standing on the over-side of the cave looking down on him.
"How did you get over there so fast!?"
"It's my magic," the man responded. "It's called Legs of the cheetah. It allows me to move at inhuman speeds. If I move fast enough, as I just did, I can become imperceptible to the eye."
'Incredible,' Izuku thought. 'Like he said, I didn't even see him move. If this is what magic can turn you into... then my goal can become that much more achievable.'
"You've seen what I can do." Sorahiko jumped down to the surface.
"Now let's see what you can do."
Izuku readied himself by taking deep breaths and focusing his mind on the feeling that surfaced a moment ago. He had to call upon that feeling again. Just like Sorahiko had done, he held his hand out with his palm facing up.
"Don't be upset if all you do is generate an aura like the one I summoned. A person's magic does not start out at its full potential. You must grow it over time. Take it slow."
Izuku felt that sensation again, and this time, let it flow freely. As a red and winter green aura protruded from his hand, something neither of them could have predicted happened. When the aura reached his right arm, the dragon tattoo began to writhe and slither.
"Izuku, your tattoo...," Sorahiko said in worry.
"What about it," Izuku said back. He looked at his arm, and was frightened by the sight of his tattoo. It was almost like it was alive
"Ahhh!... Sorahiko!? What's happening!?"
"It... it appears that your magic has activated a response with your tattoo... but... why?"
"What do I do!? Ahhh... Okay. I'm just gonna put my arm down. That can't be dangerous, right?"
"WAIT! DON'T MOVE! WE DON'T KNOW WHAT COULD-"
BOOOOOOOOMMMM
Just as suddenly as The geezer had yelled, a loud, earth-shattering explosion rang that threw him several feet back and scuffed up chunks of earth along with it. As the dust settled, and he gathered himself, he could see Izuku standing in a crater, and in front of him was a miles-long ravine. Most-frightening, though, was that Izuku's right arm was a dark shade of purple with blood running down the sides. His tattoo had stopped moving, and the winter green and red aura retreated back into his hands. Sorahiko took a moment to marvel at what he was seeing.
"He...He did all this...just by moving his arm?"
He then looked at the tattoo on the boy's arm in bewilderment, remembering how it moved and slithered in response to Izuku's aura.
"What...is that thing?"
As Izuku looked at the destruction he had caused, he was thinking one hundred thoughts per second.
'My arm-It hurts so bad! But, why!? All I did was use magic! If the repercussions were this bad, Sorahiko would have said so. I saw the way we both looked at our tattoo. He had no idea what was happening. Then...that raises the question:Why am I able to create a miles-long crevice with a simple movement of my arm!?'
"Izuku!," Sorahiko called out as he made his way to the boy.
"I-I'm okay," he responded. "That...wasn't supposed to happen...was it?"
"No...no it wasn't." Sorahiko took a pause.
"Boy...What is the nature of that tattoo?"
"I-I've had it since as far back as I can remember. Mom must have given it to me at birth. Either that or...or I was born with it. Both my father and my grandfather had it. Before she died, mom told me that it was a symbol of hope and courage. That when I feel like giving up, this tattoo can help me carry on." The old man gave the image on the boy's arm a suspicious look.
"If I may?...," he asked while holding out his hand.
"You want to touch it? Sure, just...be careful. In case you haven't noticed, my arm is broken and I'm in a lot of pain right now."
Once Sorahiko's hand touched the ink, he was invaded by a surge of magic energy that he could feel was not normal. No...this power he felt...it was ancient, ripe...unlike anything he had ever felt. Not even from...him. This tattoo held far greater power than any weapon, or animal, or potion, or incantation. This was raw, unbridled, roaring...It felt like an animal, a chained beast, and that it NEEDED to be let out of its cage.
"Izuku, that image on your arm...it is unlike anything I've seen before. It's as if it's...alive."
'Alive,' Izuku thought. He looked at his arm and wondered just how much power he held in himself.
"Well, regardless of wether or not we know what it is...this is good."
"This is good?" Izuku yelled back in disbelief. "I have two broken arms!"
"It is good...because now I know how to teach you," Sorahiko said ominously.
"What does that mean?"
"Before...I had no idea what type of magic you'd produce. I don't know if I told you this, but a person's magic can often depend on their personality or state of mind. Only yesterday have you had a traumatic experience. Suppose what you produced was unstable or dangerous, which we can see already is anyway. And combine that with your arm...I simply couldn't have you train the right way. If it were anybody else I would be teaching, I'd let them bring out their magic on their first try. But, as I said...The magic that is within you is clearly...untamed, to say the least. Think if you were in a city, if there were children around. You'd have been responsible for their untimely deaths. The power you seem to possess...I can already tell it isn't for those who aren't willing to work for what they have. If you wish to control that thing...you must push yourself so hard it hurts. Or it will break you."
Izuku pondered his statement. The point was that if he doesn't work himself enough...then his power will get the first chance to destroy him before any creature, or even human.
"Then...what do we do," he asked.
"Nothing yet. Look at you. You can't really do anything right now."
Izuku looked at himself, and said "Oh yeah" with a flat face.
"Listen up," Sorahiko said. "We're going to wait till your arms heal. Then we're going to start training. Which means you have about seven months to get ready for this strength."
Looking at his tattoo, Izuku held a serious face and wondered about what would become of him and this power in the future.
—
TIMESKIP-NINE MONTHS LATER
It was the middle of June, nine months since then, and in the last two months since his arms healed, Sorahiko had been teaching Izuku how to fight and building his body. Sorahiko claimed himself as one of the best fighters in the land, and, well-Izuku believed him. Anyone who could move this fast combined with quick reflexes and battle awareness would put up a damn good fight. He feared what he was like in his prime. Izuku knew that training with the old grump was a benefit from his first sparring session with him. In order to defeat him, he'd have to improve his quickness and speed, be more durable, and anticipate moves before they happened.
"Ugh," Izuku grunted as he was hit with a head butt to the stomach.
"TOO SLOW," Sorahiko yelled. "In real battles, you must be able to withstand hit after hit, no matter how hard. You must be able to counterattack so as to keep your opponent guessing. You fight as bland as a loaf of bread!"
"Ha...Ha...You...talk to much."
"Heh. Newbie."
—
TIMESKIP-THREE MONTHS LATER
As Izuku's thirteenth birthday had passed in July, he got the greatest gift he could have asked for. He was able to control a part of his power! Him and the mean grandpa (Izuku has been giving Sorahiko nicknames lately) had come up with a way to gain control:They called it Full Cowling. It was when, instead of focusing on one appendage, Izuku would spread his magic energy throughout his whole body, not giving too much responsibility to a certain part. With this new gain in power they began marking his progress in levels from one to one hundred. As of right now, he was at level five, and making great strides. He was now on an even playing field with Sorahiko, and didn't struggle against him. He had gained more muscle mass and developed as a fighter. He even gained height, now standing at six feet compared to when he first entered the cave and into Sorahiko's life at five-foot four.
"You're not gonna get me with that again!"
Izuku blocked a right hook from his teacher, but just as fast as he got blocked, he countered with a kick to the kneecap and air kick, which put Izuku on the floor.
"Izuku," Sorahiko said exasperated. "When are you gonna stop falling for that? You must know your opponent and be able to make their moves backfire. It's why I beat you without effort. After every hit, you think as if you'll have time to recoup, and when you send your arm in for the punch, I've already deduced that you'll swing and leave your midsection open. You're predictable."
"Uhhhhhhrrr...I know, I know. Change up your style, know your enemy, you say it every time."
"Don't get frustrated. Failure is the creator of innovation. Be creative like I keep trying to tell you to be. It'll work."
'Creative, huh,' Izuku thought to himself. 'Well... what do I have that I can change?'
That night, Izuku thought to himself about different ways of fighting.
'Be creative...but he knows my every move. How can I reinvent the wheel when I never invented the wheel?...Maybe I can think of different fighting styles. Ones that compliment the super strength I use. I can't overuse my arms. I've known that for a little over a year. And using my head is just stupid. But...What if I had a fighting style that incorporates my arms as defense and stealth attacks, and...My legs as my primary offensive weapon? Hey, that's a great idea! I'll call it...shoot style. Shit...in hindsight it was pretty simple. You know what, I haven't gotten an education in over a year. I get a pass.'
—
TIMESKIP-FIVE YEARS LATER
For the next five years, Izuku would become the epitome of a warrior. His height was now an intimidating six-foot seven, and his progress with the dragon tattoo had gone leaps and bounds. At this moment , he was at level thirty, and counting. His Shoot-style worked like a charm, giving him more power in his attacks and unpredictability. Sorahiko had started to take him hunting a couple years ago, and that helped him reach new heights he had yet to achieve. You see, when hunting for food, there are only three options:you shoot it with an arrow, stick it with a spear, or, the most treacherous option, kill it yourself. And leave it to one Izuku Midoriya to choose kill it yourself. It gave him battle experience. Often times he would have to fight packs of wolves, or bears, or lions, only using a bit of his super strength against the latter two so that he could give the creatures a chance to fight back. He felt that even though it was the circle of life, nature ha given him an unfair advantage over most living things. Battle scars piled up on his body, symbolizing his dedication and work. If you'd ask Sorahiko, he'd say he looked like a seasoned war veteran.
"Hey, Sora," Izuku called out. It was early in the morning, and the old man was still half asleep in his bed.
"What," he called back, barely awake
"I'm going to the forest to find some fruit and vegetables. With the weather getting cold, plants won't be alive much longer. I'll be back later."
"Okaaaaay."
Maybe it was a little bit boring compared to a normal day, but gathering food never hurt anyone. As a necessity, they had to eat. A simple trip there and back, although it would require a hard day's work. What could go wrong anyway?
—
NAGASAKI, BURNING KINGDOM
Staring into her mirror wearing a white shirt and underwear, while the sun set on a cold October evening, a girl with heterochromic grey and blue eyes, left-sided red hair, and right-sided white hair starred back at herself. Lifting her hand, she touched the scar that adorned her face gently, recalling the past.
—
A young Shouko with the left side of her face heavily wrapped in bandages stared into her father's throne room as he consulted with a man in front of him. She overheard parts of their conversation.
"You'll take the best care of her," the man with red hair and crimson and navy robes, the King of Nagasaki, Enji Todoroki, asked.
"Of course, your highness. Everyone who has been subjected to our hospitality has nothing but good things to say. We're more than equipped to set her right," the other man responded.
"Good. This...This cannot happen again. Make sure it never does."
As the man left, and her father walked away, he noticed her standing in the doorway to the room.
"You need something, child?"
Shouko was hesitant at first, but the question couldn't wait.
"W-Where's mommy?"
"She harmed you. Very bad. I had to send her away; her mind was not in the right place."
"W-What? Why!? What do you mean," she asked worriedly. Her father gained a condescending look.
"A child your age wouldn't understand."
"Sh-She was upset," Shouko said suddenly. Enji listened.
"Yesterday, before she...She was on the phone with grandma. She said that She couldn't take this anymore. That everyday it would only get worse..." Shouko gave her father a mean stare.
"She was never sick. If she was, she'd have been sent away a long time ago. She only ever acted like she wasn't herself when you were around. When she was with you, she'd be really nervous. I'd always wonder what was wrong with her. But...You were doing things to her weren't you? You were driving her crazy. Why else would she be bad enough to get sent away!? Now she's not here! Because of you!"
Shouko was close to tears. Enji began walking away not feeling the need to address everything that was just said.
"Pray for your mother," he said. "You have may have seen her for the last time."
"I HATE YOU!," Shouko cried. And cry she did-until there were no more tears left for her to give.
—
'Mom,' she thought. 'I wish you were here today. It's...a big day, to say the least. It's the first time-the first time I'll be going hunting. Admittedly, I'm scared. I don't know what will happen. In theory, I could die...But, I know you're somewhere thinking of me. I won't die...not until I see you again.'
Fifteen minutes later, Shouko walked out of her room looking like anything but the regal image that most say would embody a princess. She sported a pair of black, calf-high boots, black pants that matched the shoes, blue cloth that covered her collar bone down to her belly button, and a navy-blue, hooded robe. Her hair was done in a mid-length ponytail with braids curling around her ears. On her back was a metal, black painted bow. Her arrows were tipped with steel and made with iron. To say the least, she was ready for battle.
"Ready for anything, I see," called a man from across the hall. He had short hair, a mustache, black shoes, and had a black and gold jacket.
"Indeed, I am, Nathan," Shouko said fondly to her life-long protector and friend. "It's a shame you're not coming. Although, I'm certain I won't need you. You'll just slow me down."
"If by slow you down, you mean save you from impending doom, then yes." Shouko held her smile but furrowed her brow.
"You don't think I can do it," she asked.
"You believe wholeheartedly that you can, and that's what scares me. You know I think of you as my own, but your greatest fault is one that not even a parent can fix without struggle. There is no place for arrogance when it's you against nature, Shouko. It will expose your weaknesses. Strip you of your confidence, if you're not careful. Remember-Monsters are not people. There is no room for error and no chance to hold back.
Shouko reached for Nathaniel's hand.
"I'll be fine, trust me. Besides, father is with me. Regardless of wether I love him or not, he sees me as something too valuable. He won't allow me to die."
"Be that as it may," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "He can't save you from yourself. Limiting yourself can end up being your downfall, my princess."
Shouko held up her right hand:
"As long as I have this," she said as frost made its way up her arm.
"I don't care about the fire within me-I have no limits."
Making her way down the long staircase that led from the highest floor to the throne room, she saw her father standing at the door, along with a dozen or so soldiers. Enji's armor was decked out, being a scarlet, gold, and royal blue sheen. It wasn't thick, and appeared to hug his form comfortably. The soldiers at his side wore black armor, and across their chest...was an image of a Blazing Crown.
"You spared much expense with your attire, I see," He said.
"Unlike you, I don't feel the need to assert myself to my subjects. They know my stature and don't need to be flaunted with all the things they aren't privileged to," Shouko said back.
"I can't dress nice?" Shouko just looked away from him.
The soldiers opened the door of the castle, and out front was a horse and carriage. One by one the soldiers, Shouko, and Enji entered. Once they were all situated, he decided to give a rundown of the situation.
"Gentlemen, as you know, The seasons of Fall and Winter are upon us. And due to that...The creatures of the night have spawned again. Demons, Golems, Dragons...As nights of the kingdom, it is our job to slay these beings for the safety of our people and families."
Shouko gave her father a look that read 'You mask-wearing shitsack'
'As if you give a damn about your people...or your family.'
"You are all trained soldiers," Enji continued. "This kingdom has groomed you so that battle runs through your blood. These creatures will fight you to their last breath. You must match that intensity. If you get knocked down, get back up. If you get killed...Walk it off."
And shortly after, they had made their way to the Black Forest, a place spoken of by civilians as a nightmare; a place where men would go to die.
Enji stepped out of the carriage, followed by his daughter.
"Remember," he said. "To retreat is not always to surrender. If you feel as though something is too much for you to handle, you run back to me."
Shouko unfolded her bow.
"You underestimate me father," she said. "If I can stand my ground against you, I can face anyone with confidence." Enji's tone grew somber.
"You know not the blindness of that statement."
And then, the child of fire and ice wandered into the unknown darkness, not fearing what lay ahead of her.
But the wild holds back for no one.