Rewrite of the original story. I am trying to get back to writing some of my old stories and decided to start with this one.
Since the Bleach is set to return for its final arc in 2021, I felt inspired to get back to writing one of the stories related to it.
I am rewriting the original to get back to the story I genuinely liked but felt lacking the talent and skill to write. So I wish to see where my additional year or two of writing will take you and me with this version.
Without further notes, let me begin.
"People are not born equal..."
It was one absolute fact in the world full of miracles and wonders.
That was the truth Midoriya Izuku leart at the tender age of four.
It was not long before he learnt another thing about the world around himself...
.
.
.
Away from human's eyes.
The entire world concealed behind the veil.
Chapter 0: Origin.
"In other news, the local authorities refuse to comment on the recent series of disappearances of the Deiky City residents."
What did heroes do?
It was one of the questions they heard back in elementary school when talking about different careers and their roles in the society. It was also the one which Izuku liked the most because of just how much heroes did. They saved people. They fought villains. They kept order. But, above it all, they gave people hope. Their battles and rescue missions weren't just about saving the people in danger but also reminding everyone watching that they had someone looking out for them.
And among the numerous heroes, All Might was the epitome of it all.
Over the course of his career, that man had earned many titles, but none of them did him justice. It didn't matter how strong villains were or how impossible the odds were, All Might faced it all with the same smile that promised everything was going to be alright. That smile didn't just frighten villains into surrender. It didn't just give victims hope and relief.
That smile told Izuku that nothing was impossible. All Might was not just a hero to Izuku. He was one of the support figures he could rely on even if they didn't know each other.
"Everyone can be a hero!" the man once said in one of the interviews. His smile just as bright and confident as always, Izuku almost felt the hero looking at him. "People are born with different Quirks but let me let you in on a secret: What makes a hero is not a strong Quirk, but a strong heart!"
He held onto those words, turning them into his shield against any insults or mockery. Whenever Kacchan and his friends went too far with their jokes and pranks. Every time his teachers and peers told him over and over to stop dreaming and give up on his childish dreams. When even mom didn't believe in his dream, Izuku didn't despair. He didn't allow himself to lose hope. He held onto that dream because he had All Might.
And if that man believed a Quirkless kid could be a hero, then it had to be true. He knew that, if he ever met All Might, his hero would support him with the same words that helped him keep his hope and faith in himself. Izuku dreamed of the day when All Might would recognize him and tell him that, even though a Quirkless boy, he could still be a hero.
Until now, he never realized that thing was no shield. It was just a wall to hide behind away from the reality.
Izuku never thought that his idol would say the same thing he had heard a million times over.
"I am sorry, kid."
The man in front of him looked nothing like All Might. He wasn't big or strong. And neither was he the bright and confident figure he had remembered from all the news and papers. In his place, Izuku saw a man, pale and exhausted, his eyes cold and impersonal.
"But without a Quirk, there is no way for you to be a hero."
The words lacked any mockery or disdain he had grown used to. But they didn't have any warmth or comfort either. The way the man spoke was factual and logical, devoid of any kind of emotion besides the slightest hints of pity.
"You should just give up on your dream."
All Might had left hours ago but Izuku stayed. He must have been here for hours by now. His mom had called him over ten times by now and yet, to his own surprise, he didn't have it in him to care right now. He wasn't feeling angry at All Might for rejecting him. He didn't feel sad over his dream being crushed by the man's words either. Instead, he felt empty. And lost.
Where did he go from here?
To his own shame, Izuku never planned for anything other than being a hero. Maybe it was his naivety. Maybe he was short-sighted but, whenever he thought about his future, he always imagined being a hero. And now, with the man whose word meant a world for him saying he had no chance of becoming one, Izuku had no idea just where his life should go.
He was quite smart and his grades were good enough to apply for some nice high school. He had no doubt that, if he dedicated even a fraction of his effort and time he used for studying heroes, he would easily get into a good university too. Maybe he could even get into Todai if he tried a bit more. Then he would find a good job with a nice pay and settle down in the city.
Live a normal life.
Mom would definitely be happy for him. She never hid how much she worried for him entering the dangerous world of heroics. A simple and quiet job behind the desk? That arrangement would make her happier than him fighting villains and risking his life.
His future didn't look grim at all, once he gave it a thought. He could live a simple and humble life, away from dangers and adventures of heroes. Maybe he would find a nice girl and start a family. A good house, a happy if ordinary family, quiet and peaceful life.
It was a good way to live.
But it just didn't feel right for him.
He felt selfish and arrogant, but he wanted more out of his life. He didn't want to just stand on the sidelines and hope for the heroes to come and save him. He wanted to be the one who saved people. He wanted to help and inspire people just like heroes did for him.
"There is no way for you to be a hero."
But he couldn't be a hero. He would never be one, no matter how hard he tried. Martial arts wouldn't give him the needed edge. And he wasn't smart enough to build some gadgets or armor to help him fight alongside heroes. Whatever trick he could pull, it wouldn't work. Mom knew that but never voiced it. His classmates knew that and mocked him about it. And even his hero said so, knowing him for less than ten minutes.
Weeks had passed since his encounter with All Might. And all this time, he just waited for something to stop him. For some sign to show him that his dream wasn't dead. That he could still get his happy ending. Some stranger would come and tell him not to give up. A hero would be asked if Quirkless could be heroes and the hero would say 'Yes'. Maybe he would find something - anything - in his notes that would keep him going.
But no such sign came. No stranger stopped by and comforted a crushed teen. No hero encouraged Quirkless people like him to fight for their dream. And his notes - scorched and dirty - provided no answer. The last two weeks he had spent sinking further and further into despair, growing more and more closed to the world outside his room.
All this time... He spent thinking. How could he escape his fate? Could he fight it and earn his happy ending? The more he thought on the subject, the more he realized the futility of it. He couldn't fight off his bullies. How could a Quirkless nobody like him fight against Fate?
The answer was simple: He could not.
"Hey, Deku," Kacchan's voice echoed in his mind. "If you wanna be a hero so bad, there's a really good way to do it."
But he still had some power over his life. He still could make choices that would be his own and not of Fate. If he couldn't be a hero... If his dreams were destined to remain just dreams... He couldn't fight Fate...
"You should pray for a Quirk in your next life," the boy's smile was carefree and nonchalant, completely uncaring about what he was saying. "And take a swan dive off the rooftop."
...but he could damn sure spite it.
And now he had the courage to do it. It would be over very soon and then, if he prayed really hard, maybe he would get a shot at his dream. It wasn't a rooftop though, but a fall from the bridge this high should do the job.
Time to end this.
Just one small step and he would fall down.
If he fell head first, he would end it quickly and painlessly. He saw no heroes around so nobody would stop him. It was a perfect chance, and he doubted he would have enough courage to make another attempt.
Just one small step.
And the pain would go away.
SOH
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Izuku woke up from the feeling of cold liquid dripping on his head. It felt cold to the touch. Too cold and too thin to be his blood. Opening his eyes, he was surprised to see that it was not water either. It was a pale shade of green and glowing as if it was liquid light. It felt s strange yet so strangely familiar. Almost as if he found a little piece of something he never knew he was looking for.
Other than that, however, he was surrounded only by darkness.
"Hello? Is anyone here?"
No reply came. Not even the echo of his own voice. Looking around and finding nothing but more puddles of the same liquid, Izuku decided to move. There seemed to be no walls or exit in this place. He briefly wondered if this was some kind of waiting room for the dead souls. Someplace you'd sit in and wait until you could go either to Hell or Heaven.
With each step he took, that theory seemed to be less and less possible. With each step he took, the dark world around him took its shape and form. The black nothing under his feet turned into solid grey pavement. The black nothing above became the bright sky with the golden disc of the Sun casting its light on the countless buildings. It seemed so much like his city.
Only without anyone but him.
"Hey, did you hear? Izuku's got no Quirk!"
Who was that? Izuku turned to the source of the voice. Nobody around him. Was it his imagination? No, it couldn't be - it sounded all too real.
"That poor boy. I feel so sorry for his parents."
He ran towards the sound. Where was it? It was so damn close. Each step he took seemed to come with another hurtful line from either his peers or his teachers. And the last line he heard before stopping was, of course, the one from his childhood friend.
"Hey, let's call him Deku from now on! Since he is good for nothing, it fits him perfectly!"
Izuku stared in shock at the giant tv screen on the side of the building. He had passed it by so many times on his way home. He watched some of the biggest and greatest fights on it, too. Only now it was showing him. From the day he learned he was Quirkless to the day right before he tried to kill himself. With bated breath, he watched himself climb onto the bridge.
He closed his eyes seconds before his body hit the water with a sickening crack.
"Well, I guess Bakugou finally pushed you over it, huh? I am not quite sure whom I hate more, him or you."
Izuku jumped forth, stumbled and fell into the puddle of more glowing liquid. His clothes remained surprisingly dry. The fact that he missed as he was too startled by the sudden voice that came from behind him. He turned around but again found nothing. What the hell was this place? Was this an actual Hell? Would his punishment be rewatching his own life and death?
"I mean, really. One is such a huge asshole you wonder how he is going to become a hero. And another is a complete and total weakling who just lets the guy walk all over him. How can such a spineless coward ever hope to stand up to actual villains?"
Shut up. Shut up!
"I mean, if you are that weak you can't even stand up for yourself, how are you going to stand up for others? Will you also turn your back and run the very moment a villain growls at you? Will you just as easily pull our corpses out of the water as you did your notebook?"
"S-Show yourself!" Izuku shouted. The voice laughed. Steeling himself, he cried, "I am not afraid of you!"
The voice laughed again, each little vibration sent through the air reflecting just how hilarious its owner found his threat. Finally, after five more minutes of earsplitting laughter, the voice calmed down.
"Sure you are," it spoke with a light chuckle. "You've always been afraid. Deny all you want but you always knew your dream was impossible. But you were too scared to face the reality of it. And as if that was not bad enough, you were too afraid to fight for your dream, too! Too afraid to fight Bakugou and his lackeys when they cornered you. Too afraid to learn how to fight ot use weapons. Too fucking afraid to do anything but keep dreaming!"
The voice didn't know anything. He tried everything.
"I tried it all!" Izuku scowled. "I tried to fight Kacchan and got almost beaten to death! It was so bad I puked up my lunch and rolled in my own vomit. I tried to train and learn how to use weapons but... But it wasn't going anywhere. How was I supposed to catch up to the people born with actual powers? How was I supposed to fight for my dream when I had nothing to do it with?"
"Then why didn't you give up?" the voice challenged. "Why keep fighting when you yourself think there was no way you could become a hero?"
"Because that's my dream, you asshole!" Izuku roared as tears streamed down his face. And wasn't that what dreams were about? What the idea of hope was birthed in? Hope was pushing him all these years. To keep going. To keep dreaming. "I didn't want to give up on my dream no matter what. I still... I still don't want to give up on it."
"Even if it's a dumb and impossible dream?"
"Even then. Even if it was the dumbest most impossible dream, I just refuse to give it up."
The voice chuckled.
"Good."
The world suddenly began to fill up with mist. He watched in shock as the buildings started to lose their color and structure. The ground under his feet, the sky and the Sun above his head and the entire city all around him started to turn white and fall apart.
They were turning into pages.
The whole world was thrown into the chaos of flying sheets of paper that seemed to glow with the slight emerald light. As if picked up by the invisible wind, they swirled around him in a wild dance of white and green.
"You are still too weak to see me, Izuku," the voice called out. "But if all you need to fight for your dream is a weapon, then I will be charitable enough to give it! You have denied my existence for too long. You hid behind the shy smile and awkward laughter. But if you really wish to make your deam a reality, then you cannot do this anymore!"
He saw the sheets of paper gather and stick together. The seven clusters of pages floated above his head. Each one brimming with the power he could only feel but not understand. He heard their calling with his heart. Like a man starved and driven insane by his thirst, he ran for them. Stumbling and falling, rising up and running again, he jumped as high as he could and grasped one of the pages with his stained hand.
Only now did he realize that the liquid he found all over the place was ink.
"Here's the first piece of the weapon you need! Feel the power in your hands. Feel its warmth and hear its calling!" the voice howled with the wind. "If your future is written and planned, then take the ink and the pages and rewrite it into what you desire! Even if God himself has already decided your Fate, then spit in his face and be your own God and Devil! Take this power!"
His grip tightened around the single bunch of pages, their edges cutting into his hand and drawing blood.
The whole world around him was falling apart into chaos.
But the pages in his hand calmed his heart.
"And never let go."
The pages swirled around him in a mad dance. The voice's words melted into the chaos and cacophony of it all. And even though he felt the paper cut and bleed him, he felt no fear or hesitation. The sky and the Sun above his head were gone, drowning the world in darkness. The buildings and trees were gone as well. Finally, the very ground under his feet crumbled into nothing.
And even as he fell into the abyss, he felt like he was rising.
SOH
"He is waking up!"
"Call the doctor here, now!"
"Izuku!"
The boy's breath was knocked out of his lungs as mom crashed into him. Sobbing hysterically, she wrapped her arms around him as if she was afraid he would be gone the moment she let go. He wasn't sure how but he survived his fall. He was here. And felt just as ordinary as before the fall. So this was a dream, after all, huh. Well, what else could it be?
Still, miracle or not, he would have to stay here for a while. Even if their tests showed no actual damage, the doctor insisted on him staying for at least two weeks until they were completely sure he was fine. The suggestion mom was more than happy to take. But not before she asked him the question he didn't realize he feared until she voiced it.
"Why did you do this?"
Not how it happened or even what happened. She knew that he tried to take his own life. She knew it and wanted the answer. Looking at the calendar, Izuku realized that it's been two weeks since he jumped off the bridge. Two weeks of him lying in bed and tormenting mom with his sight. Did she blame herself for what happened? What would she do if he died?
Izuku couldn't find it in himself to lie to her.
And so he didn't. He told her everything. How he spent years hiding his injuries from Kacchan from her. How he never went out with his friends or never invited them because he was an outcast. How his only dream was crushed by his idol. And how he just couldn't take it anymore. He asked her - begged her - not to do anything about it. He reassured her he was better now. That she had nothing to do with his suicide attempt. That she was the best mom a boy could ask for.
It all ended with a long and strong hug, as both mother and son cried their hearts out.
She left with the forced smile on her face. The moment she closed the door, Izuku heard her call Kacchan's mother. Even as she got further and further away, he could tell mom was too angry to just let it go. Sinking into his bed, he was ready to go to sleep.
But the strange man floating above his head had other plans.
"I am not leaving just because you are igoring me," the man hissed. He was around mom's age though much thinner to the point the skin was practically clinging to his bones with the chain on his chest hanging loosely. But it was neither this nor the fact that he was floating that disturbed Izuku the most. It was the fact that mom never saw him during all the time they talked. "I know you can hear me, brat. And if you don't talk to me, I will start screaming."
He was bluffing.
"Alright, have it your way," the man cleared his throat and out his hands before his mouth before letting out the loud and very unpleasant scream. "Aaaaaaaaaa! Oooooooooo! Eeeeeeeeeeeeee!"
It continued for good twenty minutes. Until the man decided to start singing some idol songs Izuku could've sworn the man was doing badly on purpose. Oh hell, "Fine! I can see and hear you! Now who the hell are you?"
The man huffed proudly. As if acting like a little kid was some great achievement.
"About time you caved in. The name is Saishode Hyojimaru, age forty-six, I work at the office of a pretty good marketing agency. My favorite hobby is watching the idol group Pure Hero Hearts. My favorite food is Kare-style ramen with wakame seaweed and braised pork!" the man smiled brightly. "I really wanted to get my promotion this month so I worked nonstop for almost three weeks straight and collapsed on my way to the client."
Ah, okay, that made total sense.
"Two days ago, I died."
Wait, what?
"What? You are dead?!" That made sense. Some creepy and messed-up sense since mom never saw him. But why was he seeing this man then? "B-But how?!"
"Turns out eating nothing but energy drinks and not sleeping for almost a month is bad for people with weak heart."
"It's bad for everyone," Izuku cried. "Anyone would end up in a hospital from that. I meant, how am I seeing you?"
"Keep it down, kid," the man hissed. "I don't know if you know it but only crazy people talk to dead people."
"Which begs the question, how am I talking to you?"
"That's what I want to know," the man mused. "Is that your Quirk?"
"No," he wouldn't be surprised by seeing this man if it was. He was Quirkless. He had no powers! "Wait..."
Unless his dream actually did happen... Could it be the power the voice mentioned? The power it promised to him if he grabbed those pages?
"I can see the dead."
"Yeah, we kind of established that," the man - the ghost of a man - crossed his arms. "Now do you know how you did it? Because I really could use help right now. I've been dead for almost three days! If I don't hand in my report, I can kiss my promotion goodbye!"
"I-I am sorry," Izuku bowed his head slowly, still coming to terms with having actual power. "I just got this ability... I-I don't think I can help you with that. I am really sorry, sir."
The man let out a heavy sigh. The chain protruding from his chest rattled and shook slightly, the dust and rust falling off it.
"Well, that's not your fault, I guess," the man looked out the window. He seemed genuinely upset by the fact he wouldn't get that promotion. "I guess I can always try and become a big boss in the next life then. Death is only the beginning, the nice girl from the coffee shop once said."
Walking over to the exit, the man smiled at him.
"You stay out of trouble, kid," he walked through the door. But not before quietly adding, "Don't throw your life away for nothing."
Izuku looked down at his hands. He thought it was just a fluke. something he saw because of a head injury even if the doctor said he had none. But they were still here. The tiny wisps of emerald flames were at the tips of his fingers. Dancing and licking at the air around them. Begging to be used. Begging to be brought into life.
He felt the call of the same power come from his backpack. Reaching deep inside of it, he quickly pulled out his books. His thirteen books of Hero Analysis. he brought them together in his lap. The dancing little flames seemed to brighten as he traced his finger across their covers. He felt their calling. He pressed his palm against the book number 13.
It burst into flames. It didn't burn or even crackle as the green flames spread all over the rest of his books. His first instinct was to run for water and put the fire out. But something held him back - the same voice from the dream ordered him not to move. And he listened. And he watched as the books disappeared one after another into the green fire.
Until one book remained. The notebook floated above his palms and glowed in gentle green light.
Across the cover as black as the ashes it came from, the burning green ink spread from slightly above its bottom border. Two lines curved and slowly formed two snake-like shapes that were soon connected with a single v-shaped the ends of which ran through them, thus forming a stylized letter 'H'.
Then, just as gently as it rose into the air, it floated down and fell into his hands. And though it no longer glowed with the unnatural light, Izuku could feel its power. He could hear the sweet and promising words whispered into his ear by the voice from the dream.
The voice he now recognized as his own.
"What does this book mean to you, Izuku?"
It meant everything to him.
It was the apex of all his research on heroes. From their past to the present. Their strengths. Their weaknesses. Their dreams. heir fears and doubts. Their victories. Their failures. From the weakest to the strongest, he wrote it all down over the course of his entire life. He always knew one day these notes would help him carve his own path as a hero.
"Give it the name then. Names bring power. Power demands the name."
That much was true. But what kind of name could he possibly give it? It was the book. The book that was the result of years of research. The book that, despite being about the heroes, was in reality the result of his own hopes and dreams. No, that wasn't right. He was talking about the thirteen books that were burned to give birth to this one.
This one was something different. It was not the end but rather the start. It was the beginning of his new path. It was...
"My Origin," he whispered into the dark. The voice hummed in approval. The book glowed to show the same. "This book's name is the Origin of Hero."
The letter on its cover burned bright, illuminating not only the dark room but his life as well.
And here we go! The new version of the old story just for you guys!
I am glad if you have read the old version and decided to give this one a go. I honestly wish the story proves to be a testament to how much I have improved as a writer and that you guys enjoy the result of my work on it.
Why did I remove Ichigo?
To be completely honest, I have my own verson of how I wished the Bleach had ended and, in a way, the story will reflect that. I also felt like Izuku training under Ichigo would be too OP for the kind of story I am going with on this one.
Will Izuku attempting suicide have serious consequences?
Yes. Not gonna lie, I feel like in some of my stories I let Bakugou get away too easily and here, I decided to try and do something different. The story will deal with both Inko knowing her son attempted suicide and Bakugou and All Might dealing with being he ones responsible for it.
Will it have pairing? Will it have a harem?
i will be honest, I have no idea. I will focus on the plot and see which relationship has the most chemistry. It could be anyone, really. Though I don't mind suggestions if you provide reason.
On that note, I wish to thank you all for giving this chapter a read and hope it was interesting enough to earn your review.
Till next update!