Whoo! And here we have an extra-long chapter to make up for the missing days. Been 10 full days since Valentine's... and I had to fall sick. On the downside, spent my Valentine's day in the hospital instead of playing the Witcher. On the upside, met a nice nurse there also complaining of her lack of Valentine's day happiness. Misery loves company you know. Could this be the start of a Devil's romance?
Nah I'm kidding. I'm not that lucky.
Back to the story. We'll be having a bit of a timeskip in a chapter or two, and officially start the canon timeline. Of course, being the edgelord that I am, you can be sure as hell guaranteed that canon will be pretty much fucking unrecognizable. I mean, that's the whole point of fan fiction yeah? To use what you like in canon and then create something unique on top. Yet, for some weird reason, more than half the Boku no Hero fics are basically just endless rehashes of canon content but featuring: Izuku-with-quirk! Or My-OC-Goes-To-UA!
I swear to Samael that as long as you've read one BnHa fic, it feels like you've read them all. Same Deku wanting to be a hero. Same league of villains attack at USJ. Same boring stakes and canon world. Same tournament arc with Izuku helping Todoroki family issues. Then there's the typical bullshit pairings and harem nonsense.
Why hasn't anyone made a fic where the world is a dystopia run by All For One? Why has no one written a story where the League of Villains just kidnap or kill the parents and family of UA students to demoralize them, seeing as how every-fucking tom dick and harry knows their names because they have a bloody festival where they advertise their capabilities to the world?
Sigh. The sad thing about writing fan fiction is that you begin to see the plot holes and idiot plots that exist in the original medium that you wouldn't ever have thought about unless you were thinking deeply about it.
For instance, All For One is supposedly ancient right? Old enough to survive seven generations or so of One For All users. Anyone who knows anything about power and wealth and influence knows that it accumulates with time. Just look at the Meths from Altered Carbon, or the Celestial Dragons from One Piece, or Salem from RWBY or even the stupid fucking vampires from Twilight.
I don't buy how weak he is, that a severely weakened All Might could beat him. I don't buy, why he even NEEDS to have a successor. I don't buy how little influence he truly has on the world, that so few people know of his existence. The dude should be like the fucking boogeyman. The Baba Yaga of the BnHA universe. If All Might is the world's Superman/Captain America, then he should be the world's Thanos or Darkseid or fucking John Wick.
Instead, he's doing that bullshit chinese martial art sensei crap of letting the student surpass the master.
Sigh... whatever. Rant over. Back to the story.
A Precise Note
"The Quirk Existence Threat Analysis," Professor Miyazaki wrote onto the chalkboard. "Commonly referred to as the QETA Score. The system that enables us to rank Quirks based on their potential ability to disrupt the global economy, change or alter the nature of human existence, or bring about the extinction of all life on the planet."
The Professor adjusted his glasses, strands of his ages silver hair falling down his face. "Certain individuals, such as the Pro-Hero Thirteen and the Villain Quasar, possess extremely volatile quirks that, if used improperly, could lead to widespread devastation of lives, property, infrastructure. Others, such as the villain brother duo Goldfinger and Silvertooth, were capable of singlehandedly causing the crash of the gold market."
The Professor reached for his chalk, proceeding to write out on the board: QETA Rankings.
D – Rank: (QETA 1) Minor, negligible impacts on society, economy, and/or human existence.
C – Rank: (QETA 2) Slightly noticeable impacts on society, economy, and/or human existence.
B – Rank: (QETA 3) Significant impacts on society, economy, and/or human existence.
A – Rank: (QETA 4) Severe impacts on society, economy, and/or human existence.
S – Rank: (QETA 5) Irreversible impacts on society, economy, and/or human existence.
Professor Miyazaki dropped the chalk, adjusting his glasses. "Any individual discovered to possess a quirk of QETA 3 or higher will be closely observed by the government, and, in some severe cases, as it was with Quasar's son, Supernova, deemed too dangerous to allow in human society."
The Professor placed his hand on his desk. "Kubo et al argued in The Quirk Factor: Man's Extinction by Man's Evolution about the ethicality of imprisoning individuals merely on the possibility of them utilizing their quirk to upheave society. Should we, as a society, continue to deprive individuals of their lives and freedom, if it means guaranteeing the safety of our existence? To condemn innocent men, women and children to incarceration, because of what they might do?"
The sound of a ringing bell cut across the classroom.
"We will be discussing the argument in our next lecture. Class dismissed."
Arranging her books into her bag, she let out a soft, restrained yawn. She marched down the lecture theater, able to catch the Professor just as he finished packing up his things.
"Intelli-san." Came the flat voice. "I take it you have some questions?"
"My grade on the last assignment. I believe there must have been some error."
She reached for the paper, holding it up to the Professor for scrutiny. "There's no error here."
"This is an A Minus."
"Your highest grade in my class so far. You should be proud."
"I would rather you refrain from telling me what I should or should not feel Professor, and instead explain why you deemed my paper unworthy of a perfect grade."
Professor Miyazaki shook his head. "Intelli-san, you're my youngest student –"
"The relevance of which being?"
"You still have room to grow –"
"Depriving me of my well-earned score without reason is meant for me to grow?"
"Will you let me finish?"
There was an odd, impatient tension in the room. The older man muttered a few choice words underneath his breath. He cleared the phlegm in his throat, turning his head to the board.
"Intelli-san, logic and rational thinking are excellent for several fields, but this The Ethics and Philosophy of Quirks. A lot of your answers in my class are frankly, disturbingly unethical. They are unapologetically utilitarian in some instances, and border on fanatically Machiavellian in others."
"I tackle the problems presented with suitable solutions, Professor."
"And I'm telling you that your solutions lack a shred of human empathy." Professor Miyazaki pointed to the board. "In the case of Subject Supernova, the prepubescent son of the villain Quasar whose quirk allowed him to create and detonate miniature stars. What would you argue as being the right thing do to rather than incarceration?"
"Sedate and use him as a source of free energy. Acquire his sperm and impregnate women with complementary quirks, and use these individuals as vehicles to advance human civilization."
"Did you miss where I stated that the boy is barely old enough to have started puberty?"
"What is the life of one boy compared to the eventual prosperity of billions?"
"And you wonder why you have an A Minus in my class."
Her lips pressed tightly against each other as she watched the Professor depart from the lecture theater. Stubbornly, she marched onwards after him.
"Professor, I'm not quite sure I understand. Your reason for not giving me a perfect grade is because my arguments in your class are lacking in emotional predilections and unnecessary sentiment?"
"Sentiment? Is that what you believe it is, to not exploit a child for the gain of others?"
"Yes." Saiko said. "What else could it be?"
Professor Miyazaki sighed. He aged, at least three times over in a second. His right hand reached into his pocket, a cigarette appearing within his fingers. A lighter, followed shortly. The known cancer-giving stick landed in his lips, a long, slow drag of smoke being his only response.
"I have another class, Intelli-san."
The man had no more words for her as he left. His failure to deem her with a response only further entrenched it in her mind that the Professor was just another person paying lip-service to the supposed good inherent in human beings. Altruism, while being a necessary evolutionary feature of society, did not entail the deprivation of advantages to oneself because of perceived notions of what one believed were just or moral.
Her phone beeped, twice. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out the device, finding from within it a message.
Midoriya: I figured it out. Saiko-san.
Her brow quirked.
Saiko: Figured what out?
Midoriya: The backdoor application you installed on my phone.
Midoriya: When I gave you my phone to put in your number. You installed a backdoor app. That's how you listened in on my conversation. That's how you knew I had an argument with my mom.
Pressing her lips together, she thought about her response.
Saiko: You're right.
Saiko: I'm impressed.
Midoriya: I'm glad.
She blinked.
Saiko: You're not upset?
Midoriya: Should I be?
Saiko: Most would consider my actions as a gross invasion of privacy.
Midoriya: It was.
Saiko: And you're not upset over the fact?
Midoriya: No one has ever planted spyware on my phone to watch me before. So I'm flattered, I guess?
Flattered, the boy said.
Midoriya: But if you feel I should be upset, I guess I could do something and we could call it even.
She pressed her lips firmly together. Am I actually chatting with Midoriya?
Saiko: What do you have in mind?
Midoriya: I'll think of something.
Midoriya: Oh, I just remembered, I finished the book you sent me.
Midoriya: Do you have other recommendations?
Saiko: [Sending File: The Quirk Factor: Man's Extinction by Man's Evolution].
Midoriya: Thank you Saiko-san.
Saiko: What did you think of Yotsuhashi's book?
Midoriya: Thought-provoking.
Saiko: Any thoughts provoked in particular?
Midoriya: Several.
He was being evasive.
Midoriya: We could discuss it over lunch.
Midoriya: That's if you're not too busy.
Her understanding of pragmatics and semantics told her that Midoriya's decision to invite her for lunch to discuss a book could either be a straightforward request, or the boy was in fact using the 'discuss it over lunch' card as a method to attempt a social relationship.
Saiko: I believe I can free up my schedule.
Midoriya: That's great!
Midoriya: I'll text you the address.
Midoriya: Best of luck with your classes. Extend my greetings to Professor Miyazaki.
She stared at the final message on her phone. Both her brows shot up immediately.
She checked. A laugh escaped her lips. On her contact list, Midoriya's face lay with a large grin. On her specialized app which should have connected her to Midoriya's front camera, there was only, instead, a portrait of her in her College Graduation gown.
|A Precise Note|
The sky was blue. Bluer than blue. Sky-blue, was the term. The sky-blue skies were something to behold. Sitting on a roof, dangling his legs left and right, his phone sat beside him, idly providing him with a live-feed of Intelli Saiko's university class.
His right hand dipped into a bag of chips. Salted. His fingers ruffled the contents. The right one was found. Smooth. His index and middle finger picked it up. They tossed it into the air. His teeth caught it. No crunches. No cracks. He kept the chip aside, neatly in a pile. He inhaled, the morning air. Exhaled, carbon dioxide. Inhaled, again, and exhaled, again.
Be happy.
Two words. A mental command. An imperative given to himself. His body reacted instantly. His mind, reacted instantly. Dopamine and serotonin flooded through his system at a single instance. His lips curled into a beautiful smile. His eyes brightened. Giddiness, swirled through his entire body. He tossed his head back, and let out a large, bellied laugh. Self-provided satisfaction tossed aside any negativity that creeped in. Any questions as to the sanctity of whether or not it was proper to provide himself with such a fine-tuned level of precision over his own emotional states.
"I AM HERE!"
He screamed at the top of his voice, laughing as his voice reverberated across the wind. His heartbeat thrummed in his ears, the rushing of his blood pulsed in his veins, as the absolute control of his own endocrine system rushed him with the absolute sensation of satisfaction.
"Oi! Izuku! What the fuck are you doing on the roof?"
A mop of blonde hair and a scowling face appeared beneath him. Kacchan's sour expression couldn't do anything to but a damper on him.
Izuku couldn't help the happy grin that appeared on his face. "Morning Kacchan!"
"Get the fuck off my roof!"
With another laugh, he turned his body around. A leap of faith, as was common in that videogame series about assassins. A backflip, a spin, latching on to the window with nimble fingers and landing with all his limbs against the frame. Kacchan staggered back from the unexpected landing, scowling at him.
"What's got you in such a good fucking mood?"
"Nothing." He laughed. "Is it weird, being happy for no reason?"
"You really have to ask something that stupid?"
"I think it's weird, instead, that we need a reason to be happy."
"You on something?"
"On?"
"Drugs." Kacchan said. "You fuckin' usin?"
Izuku laughed. "I don't need drugs Kacchan."
"That wasn't a fucking no."
"No, Kacchan."
"So, the reason you look like you just got your balls softly fondled –"
"How would you know what someone who got their balls fondled looks like?"
"I wasn't being fucking literal."
Izuku rose both hands, smiling. "I didn't say you were." The boy chuckled. "Just a funny thought." He snickered. "Fondled." Izuku couldn't stop himself from sniggering. "Fondling."
"Fuck. It's too fucking early for this shit."
"Eh? H-hey, Kacchan, why're you using your qui –"
His body was always in motion. Moving before the explosion reached him. Leaping backwards off the Katsuki's window in a perfect, smooth movement, that left him laughing even harder. He landed, perfectly, and rose his hands up and into the air in mimicry of Olympic gymnasts bowing for the judges.
His body, once more, spun on instinct, latching on to the backpack that was tossed after him. His bag landed in his outstretched hand, as he stared up at the window, to see Katsuki Bakugo's scowling face and extended middle-finger.
"Get your fucking shit together."
That only made Midoriya smile. "You're not going to throw out Sir Kuro too?"
"The cat isn't the one that's acting fucked in the head."
"You can just say you like cuddling him. I won't judge you Kacchan."
The middle finger remained up for much longer, and Midoriya Izuku laughed.
|A Precise Note|
He was there. Standing in the kitchen area. The smell of eggs wafted from the kitchen, penetrating her nostrils. She pinched herself. She pinched herself a second time, longer, harder, just for good measure. He was there, in the kitchen, hair neatly tied behind him in a ponytail. Plus-Ultra-Chef apron tied across his waist. Dancing and humming a song she'd heard, but could not identify.
"I-Izuku?"
"Good morning Ka-chan!"
A blinding smile with shining teeth stunned her.
"I-I-Izuku…" her voice cracked. "Is – is it really you?"
"Come on kacchan, I made breakfast."
He approached her, lightly touching her hands and leading her unto the dining. She sat, delirious, unsure, her heart squeezing and burning inside her chest. Before her, a plate of bacon and eggs, smiling at her. A glass of orange juice landed beside her lightly, and Izuku leaned forward, landing a kiss on her right cheek.
"I-Izuku –"
"I've got to hurry or I'll be late for school."
"S-School?"
He was in his school uniform. Neat. Ironed.
"Izuku… a-about last night…"
"Ah, last night," The boy scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Sorry about last night Ka-chan. I wasn't really thinking things through and acted like a really spoiled brat."
He bowed. "I said some really hurtful things, and… I'm sorry."
Her son had his head formally bowed, in apology. Her mouth opened, dry breath exhaling, and her lips pressed against each other silently once more.
"I-it's fine –"
Izuku's head went up. He smiled at her. Beamed at her. Her chest tightened. His smile was contagious.
"I'm going to make things up to you."
Midoriya slid a paper across the table, putting it underneath her tray. Her fingers, shaky, picked it up. Trepidation turned to confusion.
"A… flier?"
The flier read: Ultra Fitness Gym – Mother-Son, Father-Daughter Yoga Classes now in session! He handed her another flier: Rockin' Music Stores! Family Discount on Music Classes! Come with a family member, get rockin' deals!
"Izuku I-I don't understand."
The third flier came: Oba-Chan's Bakeries! Bakin' with family is the best way to bake! Discounts available –
She put down the flier. "What's this about?"
"Ways for us to spend some more time together."
"Spend… more time?"
The boy scratched his chin. "Ka-san, I realized, for years, I've always known what my dream was, and what I wanted to be. But I've never known what dreams you have. And what you want to be. And I realized… I never cared to ask."
His eyes were sparkling. "What… what brought this on?"
The boy shrugged. "I did some thinking, ka-chan. Organized my thoughts. I realize now, what's really important."
"What's… really important?"
Izuku walked around the table. Her son walked behind her, as she was seated, and slowly, leisurely put his hands on her shoulders. The weight of the world vanished from her shoulders immediately. As if some unknown deity had arrived and drained her of all physical stress with a push of a button, she felt the soreness vanish from her muscles, the stiffness vanish from her joints. Her body was relaxed, more relaxed than she could remember. She couldn't remember being so relaxed in years.
"Your dreams, ka-chan." Her son said. "Tell me your dreams."
She felt as if she was floating. Weightless. On a soft, wandering cloud. Her worries melted like ice cubes on beach sand. The ministration of Izuku's soft, heavenly hands against her shoulders was enough to make her feel a decade younger.
"My dreams…" she began. "I… I was never the office type, or the ambitious type. My quirk wasn't suited for heroics, but… it was amazing at awing children. I remember, before you were born, when I worked at a daycare. When the children got noisy, or loud, or couldn't sleep – I would hide and use my quirk on their toys, and I would make voices, and they would all go quiet and stare, oohing, and ahhing –" she laughed.
"Some of them went on to tell their parents that their toys came to life. It wasn't much, but… I enjoyed that, watching the happiness in young children… attracting toys around them and seeing the wonder in their eyes… and, it made me love that. It… made me want that. All I ever wanted, was to have a family like that, with happiness in the eyes of the children… with happiness, in everyone. So… I… It hurt, a lot more… when you didn't get your quirk… and I felt, I felt I'd failed… the one thing I wanted, was to have a happy family, and yet… I couldn't even give my own son happiness."
Izuku's arms slowly embraced around her.
"It's fine, ka-chan. You didn't fail."
He knelt beside her, a brilliant, smile on his face.
"You didn't fail."
"I…Izuku…"
Her son's smile grew.
"So, does that mean you want tons and tons smiling grandchildren?"
"Oh, Izuku!" Inko laughed, wiping a tear from her eye. "You're a bit too young for that right now. I just want you to pursue your dreams first. Finish school. Become the hero you've always wanted to be. Shine brightly – and you'll make your mother the happiest mother in the world."
Midoriya Izuku gave a faux salute of attention, his sparkling teeth grinning. "Yes Ma'am!"
"Oh, come of it."
"As you wish, Ma'am!"
Inko laughed, as Izuku acted the role of a military soldier. He placed his right hand across his chest.
"Midoriya Izuku will accomplish that dream! Whatever it takes!"
His eyes sparkled as he made his declaration.
"Whatever it takes."
|A Precise Note|
"Thank you so much Midoriya-kun! I don't know what I'd have done without my notebook."
"You're welcome!" Midoriya beamed.
"Thank you Midoriya-kun!"
"You're welcome!" Midoriya bowed.
"Midoriya-kun! I saw your All Might drawings in my classroom! You're awesome!"
"Midoriya-kun found my missing pen! Isn't he thoughtful?"
"Midoriya-kun – could – could I get your help?"
"Midoriya-kun!"
"Midoriya-kun!"
Katsuki Bakugo stared, with one twitching eye at the unbelievable change in class dynamics. The girls of the class hoarded around Midoriya as if he were the Buddha giving tips to achieve enlightenment. He might as well fucking be…
"Psst. Katsuki."
Bakugo turned a lazy eye to the side, growling underneath his breath as he noticed the classmate that was calling out to him.
"The fuck do you want, boner-face?"
The boy scowled. "My name is Matsuda."
"Don't remember fuckin' asking."
"Asshole. Just wanted to ask if you know what's up with Izuku."
"Fuck if I know."
It irked him. The sniveling, whining, always with his head-in-the-clouds Midoriya had gone to sleep on his floor last night after having some sort of fight with his mom, and woke up this morning suddenly looking like he'd figured out the secret to immortality. Or at least, if not immortality, the secret to eternal happiness.
"Jealous that he's suddenly the class chick magnet?"
"Who would give a fuck about that?"
Matsuda pointed. "Most of the guys for starters." There were a group of boys, glaring daggers in Midoriya's direction. "…who knew all Midoriya needed to be to become a chick magnet was to be happy?"
Katsuki gave a side-glance to the nerd in question. From the tone of his laughs, to the airy nature of his steps and enthusiastic movements of his limbs, it was plain to anyone with a pair of eyes that the boy wasn't faking it. Fake happiness was easy to sniff out.
Genuine happiness meant an absolute lack of care of his own social anxiety and awkwardness. A disregard for his own shyness and self-doubt. He didn't give a shit about anyone's opinions or perceived image. Whether someone hated him or loved him didn't add jack weight on their shoulders. By being happy, the nerd was stupidly self-confident. Anyone with a pair of eyes could tell you that genuine self-confidence was attractive as fuck.
"Midoriya-kun!"
The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch break. There were numerous sighs and complaints as girls from different classes had to leave and Midoriya Izuku found himself back in his seat, humming a soft tune to himself. Katsuki gave him a side glance out of the corner of his eye.
"Something bothering you, Kacchan?"
"…you deal with your shit?"
Izuku nodded. "Ka-chan and I are going for family music-classes start Saturday. Then family baking class on Sunday. We're trying to find some room for finger-painting and yoga –"
"Too much info." Katsuki said. "Just wanted to make sure you did what you needed to."
The bastard almost blinded him with his smile again. Fucking shiny teeth – "Fuck. Turn off your teeth Izuku."
"You know, you and Mitsuki-san could join us –"
"Not a fucking chance."
Izuku placed his hands at the back of his head. "You ever wonder why we never hear about All Might's wife?"
"All Might doesn't have a fucking wife. What're you on about?"
"Yeah. We never hear of his kids either. Or family." Izuku smiled. "To be the greatest hero…" The boy's gaze went elsewhere. "I wonder how lonely he is."
Izuku didn't bother him for the rest of class. He buried his nose instead, into books. New ones. Thick ones. Books that looked like medical textbooks. Katsuki, too, attempted to focus on class. To keep his own attention on the words coming out of the teacher's mouth. To stop himself from thinking over those stupid six words.
The profession of Pro Hero came with numerous risks. He fucking knew that. As the world knew your real name, birthday, and in some cases, where you fucking lived, ate and shat, there was always that chance of a villain choosing to hit you where it hurts the most. Many heroes had died due to this. Some of them were not even bigshots, just some up-and-comer who managed to take down one nameless villain, only for the nameless villain's buddies to take revenge by showing up at the hero's house unannounced and fucking shit up.
For that reason Pro Heroes married other Pro Heroes as protection, but it only just meant the relationship had a higher chance of ending than normal. Death was part and parcel of the business, often as guaranteed as the corporate merchandizing.
"…you said the music classes are on Saturday?"
Izuku's bullshit teeth blinded him for the second time that afternoon.
|A Precise Note|
He'd been waiting for biology class. Particularly, he'd been waiting for them to make use of the laboratory. The smell of bleach and the faint ting of sterilized air tickled his nostrils as they trooped into the white-walled room. His ears picked up on the tiniest hints of conversation and gossip, twitching occasionally once he heard his name being mentioned.
His body was still creating serotonin and dopamine, creating and renewing it constantly. The cost of manipulating his own body chemistry came with slightly restless fingers that rattled away at his sides and drummed incessantly to a note of their own rhythm.
"Pair up. We're going to be doing some dissection today. The person to your left is your partner for this exercise."
The teacher's announcement came along with groans of complaint. He forced down the sensation of laughter that was bubbling in his throat. His partner was a girl in his class. Suzume, he believed her name was. She was avoiding eye contact. He noticed, her hands, moving restlessly as she tapped them against the hem of her skirt.
"Remember, lab safety is always first!"
Washing his hands under cool water did little to stop him from breaking out into pleasant humming. He found himself, slowly biting down on his lower lip, silently giving a mental command to reduce the production of serotonin in his system. Giddiness wasn't what he needed while in the laboratory. Granted, his quirk would still guarantee the precision of his cuts and incisions even if he were giddy.
The rubber gloves smacked unto his skin comfortably. His partner had hers in hand. "Suzume-san are you ready?"
"Um… a-actually I think I should get a different partner."
"Something wrong?"
She rubbed her shoulders. Her cheeks were flushed. Her breathing was uneven. He could hear her heartbeat from where he stood. Fast. Thrumming. Pulsating within her chest.
"Do – do you mind?"
Suzume. A girl in his class who was always irritable when she sat next to Kacchan, and specially requested to be moved away from him. A girl who also vehemently hated to be seated next to Matsuda. He cursed softly underneath his breath as he closed his eyes.
Stop Happiness.
The withdrawal of feel-good hormones made Izuku feel ill. He didn't have the motivation to continue the class anymore. To continue… anything. He should just die and save himself a pointless existence…
Apply little dopamine.
A steady level. Not overdosed on happiness, but not completely deprived of it. The girl beside him breathed a sigh of relief. "H-how did you do that?"
"Sorry."
"Most people can't just… fine-tune their emotions like that."
His lips pressed against each other. "…it felt worse for you?"
She snapped her gloves on, turning her gaze unto the table and the rat specimen present on it. "It felt like my heart was going to explode. So much… happiness and warmth. It was overwhelming."
Izuku cringed. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"I – I didn't dislike it."
He tried to focus his attention on anywhere but the auburn-haired girl. The rat, pinned to the table. The white floor shining with his reflection. The fluorescent bulbs. The white ceiling. Anything, anywhere, but on her face.
The teacher went around the room, talking about the scientific method, narrating the proper mindset needed to conduct scientific research. He reprimanded some boys who were toying with their rat. Reprimanded some girls who handled the animal with less respect than feces. Izuku found the man's words blurring into one another. The room was continuously greyer. Darker. There was little color, to it all. Without the flood of happiness, his mental state defaulted to something unusual.
He realized he cared little, for the teacher's rants. Cared, little, for the students, who would most likely never reference this class for anything in the future. Cared little, for the gathered white rodents, all of which would be sacrificed in the name of scientific discovery, used for nothing more than teaching a bunch of distracted children about the finer parts of rodent anatomy.
How amusing, would it be, for some stranger, higher being, to come along and place them on a table. Muttering and laughing as their very lives were used as nothing more than an example for young, disinterested ingrates. Perhaps, it would be less amusing, then. Perhaps, in his goal to equalize the unfairness of the nature of quirks in society, he would find the most callous of humans, and render upon them that same level of treatment – laboratory rats for pointless illustrations.
"Go back."
Suzume's gloved hand grabbed his. With half-lidded eyes, he stared at her. There was something in her gaze. Concern? Curiosity? Care? Strange. Why would she care for him?
"Back." She hissed, squeezing his hand.
"Back?" he drawled.
"To the happy you. This you… it's scary. You're scaring me."
"Oh, look, in my hand," He gestured at his open palm. "All the reasons I care." He blew unto his empty palm. "Gone. Just like that."
He was scaring her? What a brilliantly wonderful facet of information that did nothing to change his day. Was it supposed to be his fault she was born with a quirk that enabled her to feel other's emotions? As it stood, he couldn't feel any emotions whatsoever. There was nothing particularly fearsome about his emotional state. He simply didn't care. He didn't care, for her. Didn't care for his classmates. Didn't care too much about anything… or anyone.
He didn't even care about his drea –
BE HAPPY.
The floodgates of happiness burst open and he banished the final stray thought before it arrived. Suzume beside him shuddered slightly, letting go of his hand as if she'd been burned.
"Sorry! I'm sorry – did – did I –"
"Get help Midoriya."
She took permission from the teacher, excusing herself from the class. Midoriya mediated on his lack of a partner for a few seconds. He found himself unbothered by it. He would give a token of apology to Suzume later. She didn't understand why he needed to do what it was that he did. He couldn't fault her reaction.
The rodent lay on the table, waiting for dissection. Izuku picked up the scalpel, and humming to himself a jaunty tune, he went to work.
His classmates and teacher would eventually gather, all focused on his procedure. Dissecting a rat was easy, primitive, but to open the skull of a rat without killing it, and test its motor reflexes by prodding its brain was a different task. Brain surgery was simpler on smaller creatures like rodents with their uncomplicated systems. His quirk guided his hands and filled in the gaps in his knowledge.
I could add some things here… remove some things…
Suturing the wounds and completing his surgery brought him with the knowledge that he was the only one to dissect on a rat and not kill it. His little white rat was still alive, though, the modifications he made on the creature's brain wouldn't be noticeable until it was fully healed.
"Midoriya-kun…" his sensei cleared his throat. "What… did you do to that rodent?"
"Just a minor surgery to tweak its parasympathetic nervous system, sensei." Izuku chirped.
"A surgery? With… school equipment?"
"I'll come back to check up on him." Izuku said. "Do you mind sensei?"
"…no. not at all. Do… as you will, Midoriya."
His classmates and his teacher were acting oddly after he'd finished his procedure. He could still hear the whispers of his name on their lips, but there was a difference in the tone by which they uttered it. Leaving the classroom, Midoriya hummed a soft tune to himself as he decided that it ultimately made no difference.
He was ecstatic instead, at the discovery that his quirk could in-fact enable him to perform complex tasks like surgery flawlessly. Although his quirk helped him with some of areas where he was lacking knowledge, it couldn't however be used with zero knowledge whatsoever. His hands were guided, as if he were being possessed by an external force which alit his nerves with the muscle memory of performing a procedure he possessed only the basics of.
If he wanted to further gain expertise in the subject, he would need to watch videos and recordings of more complicated procedures so he could mimic them. The more he watched, the larger the reservoir of knowledge, and the vaster his quirk evolved.
He reached one of the school's water fountains, drinking from it, while allowing his mind to expand and think further. Applying Precision on his brain had increased his neuroplasticity. His ability to learn, digest, and absorb information. More than that, he'd gained a form of subliminal pattern recognition which he was only beginning to discover. His brain was taking in the details of the world, memorizing and recording everything, and on its own, in the background, things which seemed to possess a connection were immediately grouped together, with cause-and-effect playing out before him.
The hallway was a cornucopia of information, and his brain was highlighting and predicting the possibilities of the next several minutes using nothing but that information. The student, with a stack full of papers, marching blindly forward. The girls, filing their nails at the corner, gossiping about the fashion choices of a female celebrity. The asthmatic student, puffing angrily at his empty inhaler, coughing while a boy with a smoke-emitting quirk laughed.
Midoriya Izuku's time slowed.
Boy opens window. Heavy wind. Southbound. Papers fly into the air. Skirts, up. Blinded. Slips. Falls – face-first.
Izuku blinked. He stared, idly, as the events played out. The asthmatic rushed to the windows, swinging them open. The girls squealed as they forced their skirts down. The boy with the paper stacks slipped, his papers soaring through the air. His landing trajectory –
"Oh my fucking god!"
Izuku closed one eye in slight grimace.
"Whoa. And I thought shit like this only happened in ecchi manga."
The voice came from behind him. Matsuda whistled softly over the sound of heavy slaps being rendered to the lucky, or 'unlucky' pervert as it were. "Nice panties ladies!"
"Fuck off Minoru!"
Izuku blinked. "Move three inches to your left."
"Huh?"
"Now."
Matsuda did as he instructed. A baseball tore through the open window, tearing through the spot where his head had been, and smashing into a wall.
"What the fuck?"
The boy ducked his head low, making Izuku's lips twitch. "It's fine, Matsuda-san."
"Since when can you see the future?"
Izuku pursed his lips. "I can't."
"Bullshit. What was that then?"
"…predicting outcomes based on recognizing patterns in an established system?" he tried, smiling awkwardly. "I'm just figuring out the kinks of it myself."
Matsuda squinted at him. "You…" His eyes began to largen. "Don't tell me… you used your quirk on your brain?"
"I did."
Matsuda whistled. "You haven't gone psycho yet, so I'm assuming you did something right. What's it like?"
"I can change and set my emotional states at will. My brain picks up on information faster. I have memories of being born and I can't forget the odd pattern on a falling leaf I saw this morning because it landed on a crack that wasn't on the road before."
"Memories of – controlling emo – " Matsuda whistled again. "Damn." He smacked his hands together. "So that's why you've been in a good mood all day. And here I was thinking you got laid or something." Matsuda's eyes widened. "Oh, oh – wait, if you can control all aspects of your brain, doesn't that mean that when you sleep you'll always have lucid dreams you can control?"
"I guess?"
"And doesn't that mean you can make yourself hallucinate on command?"
"Why would I want to make myself hallucinate?"
Matsuda's grin was dastardly. "Instant sexy daydream. If you could give yourself audio, visual and tactile hallucinations… that would be epic. Go on, go on – test it out."
Self-induced hallucinations were something he was leery about experimenting on. "What am I supposed to hallucinate?"
"Try tactile hallucinations. Make yourself feel something that isn't happening. Like… like someone rubbing your hands."
Midoriya Izuku closed his eyes. He envisioned it, just as Matsuda insisted. Just as he thought of it, he felt a hand reach out slowly caress his arm.
"That's not funny Matsuda."
"What?"
"Stop rubbing my arm."
"I'm… not."
Izuku's eyes snapped open. Matsuda's hands were in the air in a gesture of innocence. Izuku stared at his hand, and he realized he could still feel it. Still feel the sensation of someone lightly, softly rubbing up and down his hand.
"That, Izuku-kun," Matsuda said, "Is the frightening power of the human brain."
"…do you have any other ideas, for things I could do?"
Matsuda hummed, tapping his chin with his index finger. "Well, you could turn your mind palaces into actual palaces by throwing visual hallucinations into the mix. You could make yourself drunk or high on command, which'd be pretty cool for party tricks – or just close your eyes and imagine getting a blowjob and viola, your figment of your imagination arrives and starts to do the deed. Though, if it feels real, is it still a figment of your imagination?"
"Any… useful ideas?"
Matsuda crossed his arms. "Prude. Whatever. How about you try giving yourself synesthesia?"
"Synesthesia?"
"You know. Smelling colors. Tasting sounds. That whole stuff." Matsuda shrugged. "I doubt it'll be all that useful, but it's a new experience." The boy sighed. "Man, I'm so freaking jealous. Wish I could rent your quirk for a day. All I can do is gain some muscle and facial hair and turn horny."
"Maybe you could try extending your quirk… outwards?" Izuku suggested.
"What do you mean?"
"Like… like Midnight. Maybe… you could make yourself secrete pheromones or a strong scent?" The boy wagered. "I mean, I'm not sure it would work but…"
The taller boy's face went blank. The expression of a man who'd been given groundbreaking news. "Secrete… pheromones…" he muttered. "…that… that could work. Sorry, Midoriya… I need to… yeah. See you around."
Matsuda departed, muttering to himself in a manner reminiscent to Izuku's own habit.
Ah… well, I think I've given Matsuda some things to think over.
Izuku glanced at his wristwatch, making sure to check how many hours were left until the end of the day. His meeting with Saiko would take place, and he needed things to progress smoothly in order to pursue his goal.
Clenching his fist, Izuku steeled his mind.
"Whatever it takes."
|A Precise Note|
The restaurant was surprisingly high-end. Surprisingly, as apparently one needed a reservation to be able to get a seat, and she almost doubted as to whether or not Midoriya Izuku had texted her the wrong address. Seeing him seated within, school uniform still in place, smile on his face, as he politely gestured her over, made her realize that there was no error.
In a surprising display of chivalry, he rose, took her right hand, and delivered a soft, chaste kiss on her fingers.
"Intelli-san," he greeted.
She doubted, for several seconds, if she was meeting the same Midoriya Izuku she'd met a day prior. She doubted, further still, when the boy went through the motions of helping her with her seat.
There was an odd charm to him, in that there was a pleasant, broad smile on his face throughout the proceedings of his traditional acts of chivalry. Traditional, and also highly unexpected.
"You've certainly gone to a great deal of effort to impress me."
"I want to change the system."
No preamble. No long-winded introduction. Midoriya Izuku's palms were steepled, and his polite smile was accompanied with a contradictory veneer of professionalism. Saiko understood immediately that she'd misread the boy's intentions. Misunderstood the reason he'd invited her here. This wasn't a cordial meeting.
"Doesn't everyone?" She reached for the menu, opening it and taking a casual glance.
"Most people seem content with how things are. Heroes… villains… quirks that cause you misfortune or decide your destiny…" Midoriya's right hand clenched. "I can't accept it. I can't accept a world where my entire life is determined by an ability I didn't choose at birth. I hear it, everywhere, all the time. My mother, she wasn't born with a flashy quirk, and she choose a simple life for it. My friend, Katsuki, because he was born with a flashy quirk, everyone told him he'd make a great hero, and – and I don't think he's ever even considered that he could be anything else but that. Matsuda – he wants to become an adult film star because he's worried his quirk will get him into trouble if he tries to just take a normal job –"
"Even I… I never believed that I could do anything because I didn't have a quirk. The whole world – everyone – we have it in our heads that we are nothing but the sums of the ability we are born with. I – I don't want, that. I hate, that. We – we are so, so much more than just our quirks."
She closed the menu. "What are you going to do about it?"
"Equal the playing field." He gestured with his palms. "If… if I could study more, learn more about the Quirk Factor… I'll think about how to create inhibitor devices, or – or something biological… like serums – medication."
"Serums that inhibit people's quirks?"
"As a stopgap, temporary measure," he explained. "To make life easier for people with troublesome quirks. If there was something, like over-the-counter medication that was globally available, people like Matsuda who are born with quirks that'd otherwise make them have difficult lives could live without fear or worry."
The waiter arrived, pen in hand. "Tea. Chamomile."
"A water will be fine, thank you." Midoriya said on his behalf.
The waiter departed, and she began her cross-examination. "As inspiring as your motives are Midoriya-kun, you're forgetting something. Quirks are a power status. With the end of Pre-Quirk society, a new arms race began: the superhuman arms race. Quirks and heroes are the nuclear armaments of society. Can you imagine a society where anti-nuclear devices can be found at every corner drugstore? Where all that is needed for a layman to take down a god is to purchase some pills from a pharmacy?"
"I'll make it work based on intent." Midoriya said.
"You're surely jesting."
"If the anti-quirk serum detects a strong resistance – it'll fail to take effect. So people can't abuse it – can't use it on those who aren't willing."
Saiko laughed. "So, what, you want to invent drugs that require consent to work? Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds? Human biology isn't that convenient Midoriya-kun."
He wasn't disturbed. "There are quirks that allow people to manipulate forces like time, space and gravity. Quirks that allow people to interfere with laws of physics. Is a drug that works based on a person's mental willingness any less ridiculous than someone who can change the weather with a punch or create a black hole with a finger?"
She pursed her lips. "I'll admit, when you put it that way it does seem feasible." She sighed. "Of course, all of this is mostly conjecture, but assuming you do somehow succeed in creating this anti-quirk medication… I assume you have other plans for quirk society?"
"Several," Midoriya nodded his head, excitedly. "I've been thinking of ways to abolish the entire hero and villain system entirely. Devices that can use algorithms to predict the likelihood of a crime occurring and prevent it before it does. An entire revamp of the country's architecture that'll increase efficiency and productivity. A method of highlighting and cultivating the individual talents in people and calculating the best ways for them to achieve happiness and satisfaction –"
"It seems I underestimated your ambition."
"I've always been stubbornly ambitious. Just… for the most part, I focused my ambition on becoming a Hero."
"You make it sound like you've given up that ambition."
"I haven't."
Saiko's brow quirked. "You still want to be a Pro Hero?"
"Most of my plans won't work without public support and approval. The fastest way to get that is to be a hero, even if I do intend to make the system obsolete." He explained. "Also, there are Pro-Heroes who have part-time jobs, such as Cementoss and Best Jeanist. Being a Pro-Hero will also allow me access to amazing people and places… much better than if I tried to do it all alone."
The waiter arrived. On Midoriya's end, a glass of chilled water was placed. On her end, the tea she requested came in an elegant flower-patterned cup. Cube sugars and packet milk came in a smaller cup, for which she nodded appreciatively to the waiter.
"Tell me, Midoriya-kun, you seem to have your plan all figured out. So, what role exactly do I play in all of this?"
"You want to make things better… don't you?"
"I have my own goals Midoriya-kun. My own plans and my own methods. For the most part, none of your goals clash with mine, but that does not mean I'm interested in a partnership."
Midoriya's smile dropped. "You're… not?"
"I know what you want. Funding. Support. But from the standpoint of an investor – all you have are grand plans with no means to achieve them. Scientists are still researching and discovering new things about the quirk factor. So far, no one has discovered a breakthrough that'll allow them to create an anti-quirk serum. You expect me to believe that a boy who's still in middle school and has zero research experience will somehow crack the code within what, months? Years?"
"Those scientists aren't me. I can –"
"So, you're saying you, Midoriya Izuku, middle schooler, are superior to the world's greatest scientists?"
"I'm not. But my quirk –"
"Precision, yes." Saiko slowly picked up her cup. "I know your quirk Midoriya-kun. And I'm telling you, even with your quirk, it'll take you several decades to be able to create the drug you're dreaming of. If at all you succeed, assuming your life isn't cut short by your insistence on becoming a Pro Hero or assuming you do not somehow arouse the ire of some villain that leaves you crippled or incapacitated."
"That won't happen."
"You're not clairvoyant Midoriya. It's easy to fall prey to the survivorship bias, and believe you're special. the numbers insist otherwise." Saiko waved her hand. "That aside, drugs typically require several years of testing and verifying by the government. The odds are higher that the government will bury it in bureaucratic red tape for years upon years, while utilizing it in military campaigns as a secret weapon against foreign powers. It'll be a miracle if your drug ever sees the light of day at all."
"…what are you saying?"
"The status quo doesn't like to be changed." She gestured around them. "The nail that sticks out will be hammered down. While it's great to have such lofty ambitions, I can't invest in optimism and ambition alone. Perhaps if you had something – something tangible that proves you can create what you claim you can – I'd have considered it. Unfortunately, Midoriya-kun – all you have are words."
There was a shift in his temperament. His eyes, she noticed immediately, became half-lidded. His body posture relaxed, dangerously so. There was a flicker of something in his half-lidded, semi-focused eyes that sent an unwilling shudder down her spine. The very air around him changed so much for a second that she felt he'd been replaced by a doppelganger.
"So," his speech drawled. "You're saying you don't believe I can do it?"
She pursed her lips. "Midoriya… are you… altering your mental state?"
"You didn't answer my question."
Definitely controlling his mental state, she noted. Curious. It explained how the shy, socially-awkward boy she met yesterday managed to gain the necessary confidence to perform acts of chivalry.
"Listen, Midoriya-kun. If there was, somehow, a person out there who managed to devise a serum that could inhibit or stop quirks – that person would be feared. Governments, society, individuals with personal stakes – all would be filled with dread at the existence of such a person, and try to eliminate them. They would have created something which could completely upend society and civilization as we know it. They would become, simultaneously, the most powerful and most wanted in the world. Midoriya-kun, do you believe you have what it takes to bear that burden?"
With unflinching eyes, the boy's head tilted forward.
"Whatever it takes."
She hadn't expected such an immediate answer.
"Forgive me, Midoriya-kun – but you don't strike me as the type of person willing to compromise his own beliefs for the sake of a goal. Sacrifice yourself, perhaps. But sacrifice others?"
"That's the second time you've doubted me, Saiko-san."
She rubbed the bridge of her nose with her fingers. You stubborn little… She remembered that Midoriya Izuku possessed a warped psyche that absolutely could not stomach someone's lack of faith or belief in another person. Expressing her doubt in his conviction would only serve to push him away from her further.
"Alright, Midoriya. If you believe you're up to the task of upending society – I'll send you in the right direction." She reached for her bag, bringing up her phone. She tapped several buttons, while muttering underneath her breath. "I've just sent you the co-ordinates of a location I suspect to be the known trading spot of an individual that sells the black-market quirk enhancement drug commonly known as Trigger."
His brows rose. His temperament, changed and softened all at once, as his face scrunched up in visible confusion. "W-what?"
"Trigger is a quirk enhancing drug, but it comes with the downside of reducing higher brain function and intellect of those who use it, throwing them into a berserk, aggressive state. If you so believe yourself capable of alchemy – then analyze the substance and dilute it. Create a pure version of it that works without the mental drawbacks." She said. "If you can't even manage this basic level of chemistry, you might as well give up on creating your 'consent drugs.'"
The boy didn't answer. His nose was furrowed. Brows, furrowed. Hands, steepled in thought.
Of course, what she failed to mention that this was certainly a task far above and beyond 'basic' chemistry. Trigger was a world-renowned drug with suspected origins in Japan, and different individuals had tried to analyze and crack the code as to what were the components of a liquid that could immediately enhance the quirk factor of individuals. Scientists in laboratories across the world were stumped, and had failed, time and again to isolate the quirk-factor boosting part of Trigger from the mind-altering aspects of it.
The person who invented the Trigger drug was a certified chemical genius, worthy of a Nobel prize. A once-in-a-lifetime savant that Saiko would compare to the Pre-Quirk era Einstein or Hawking. There were theories that the person possessed a quirk that allowed them to alter chemical bonds at an atomic level, which was the only reason why the individual could create Trigger in the first place.
In essence, she was tasking Midoriya with an incredibly difficult task straight out the gate. Not that he knows that.
She rose from her seat, neatly patting herself down. "Once you've succeeded, Midoriya-kun, I'll believe that you're serious about this. I'll invest all my family's fortune in you. Anything at all you want. But if you fail to succeed at this…"
She left the sentence hanging.
"I'll be seeing you, Midoriya-kun. Extend my greetings to Matsuda-kun."
|A Precise Note|
Most powerful and most wanted in the world.
Midoriya Izuku walked with his body on autopilot. Avoiding pedestrians and obstacles with his hands in his pockets, he replayed his meeting with Saiko in his head for the millionth time.
The odds are higher that the government will bury it in bureaucratic red tape…
He kicked a stone on the cobbled pavement. The long streets brought him no ease of mind. He could not tell if Saiko was being pessimistic, or if it was that he had been too optimistic about the method he wanted to use to accomplish his goals. All he wanted was to help those whose quirks lingered on the dangerous end of extreme. Those whose quirks forced them into a particular lifestyle. Yet, just to be able to grant these people a brief reprieve from the harshness of daily life was a mission which would put him in the crosshairs of the entire world?
It doesn't matter! You've already decided. Whatever it takes. Whatever it takes, Izuku! You're going to do this!
Midoriya sighed as he scratched the back of his head. His body's serotonin and dopamine production had dipped while in the conversation. He'd been hurt, upset, at Saiko's words. At Saiko's lack of belief in him. Upset enough for him to default his emotional state to the lower-range. That state in which he found it difficult to care about anyone or anything. The Apathy State was what he termed it. It was oddly relieving, to not care sometimes. Though, he couldn't stay in that state for too long, as the not-caring tended to be rather indiscriminate.
"Saiko-san said the alley on Hirohito Street is the location…?"
Midoriya's only experience with drugs was pain-medication from the times when he was bullied. When he was younger, he got vaccinations against different viruses and diseases that were supposedly highly dangerous in the past. Asides from those two instances, he'd never had much to do with medicine or drugs. He'd never so much as bought over-the-counter supplements before, yet alone antibiotics needed for a cold.
Now, he was stalking down the streets late in the evening, to try and buy a black-market quirk-enhancer. Trigger.
Midoriya's brain filtered information and searched for any recollection or information he had regarding the topic. Newspaper snippets he'd glanced. Idle conversations from a news report on the television. Talk shows on anti-drug campaigns on the radio. Every reference and every mention of the word Trigger was catalogued in his brain. Taking a deep breath, he commanded his brain to present the information before him in the form of a visual hallucination.
The hallucination was vivid. The screens in front of him, replaying images and memories of his encounter with the word Trigger appeared as if he were using a high-tech holographic device. His body moved on autopilot as he began to sort through the snippets of data.
Newspaper articles mentioning dangers of new drug, Trigger…
Pop-up advertisements on Matsuda's porn sites for 'quirk-boosting' medication…
Talk show host discussing Trigger in the background TV of Kacchan's house…
He made a right turn, avoiding bumping into a couple on the street. Trigger is well-known for it's ability to enhance the quirks of individuals, and is most commonly used by people who have quirks that are lacking in offensive capability… duration depends on strain, some variants lasting a few minutes, and others extending towards several hours… reason for difference in strain efficiency debated… arguments for prototype batches being mixed in with purer batches?
Muttering underneath his breath, Izuku Midoriya rearranged the floating panels of information.
Arguments for why the drug boosts aggression – co-relation between quirk-factor and aggression in studies? Studies debunked… theories for Trigger being used as a super-serum – mass produced for military purposes?
Dodging a lamppost and giving a cheery nod to a passing policeman, Izuku found himself scratching the back of his head as he sorted through more information.
Connections link Trigger to the Japanese Yakuza. Mentions of Japan's growing Yakuza force – news reports discuss reduction of gang-related violence – different organizations of Yakuza being submerged under one global force…
Midoriya stopped in the middle of the road, staring at the floating name that hovered in his vision. His brain, rewired for subconscious pattern recognition, all pointing directly at the floating name, telling him, somehow, someway, that the drug Trigger was related directly to it.
"Shie Hassaikai?"
Shie Hassaikai – Eight Precepts – The Eight – Dangerous – national Yakuza organization – members: unknown, goals: unknown. Listed on villain watchlist – mentions appear on quarantined toxic internet forums…
Izuku rubbed the back of his head. "Relax, Izuku! R-relax!"
He just needed to purchase their product. That was all. It wasn't like he was going to fight them. He just wanted their product. Taking another right turn, he confirmed that he was, indeed, at one of the prescribed locations Saiko had sent to his phone. The alley was darker than most, littered with empty beer cans and snuffed cigarettes. Izuku groaned as he tried his hardest to avoid stepping on one or two used condoms, making his way further in to the alley as he tried to search for someone.
I don't even know how much the drug is supposed to cost…
He still had his lunch money, at least. He hoped it would be enough.
"…hello?"
There was no one in the alley.
"Drug Dealer-san?"
The further he went in, away from the light, the more he realized that there was a horrible stench originating from within. His eyes watered up immediately. His first instinct was to gag, but he managed to force down the instinct. The smell was disgusting, and it was certainly getting stronger as it mixed in with the scent of blood.
Midoriya's sensation of time slowed.
Blood. A lot of blood. Massive blood loss. Figure in the shadows. Beer can, tossed. Lunge. Left. Right. Toss.
His quirk blurred into life. He tilted his head, dodging the empty beer can tossed in his direction. With a brief spin, he evaded the knife that swung out of the shadows aiming for his neck. He stepped to the right, dodging the left swing, and leaned to the left, to dodge the right swing.
The knife left his attacker's hand, and his own right hand came up, plucking the object from the air seconds before impact.
He could hear his heart, beating fast. The blade, inches away from his skull. The intent to kill so overwhelming that it flooded his body with adrenaline. The overwhelming flood of adrenaline was something Midoriya didn't expect. So much of it that he found his lips actually spreading into a smile from just how hard his blood was pumping in his system. He couldn't remember the last time he did anything that actually made his heart beat fast.
"Are… are you the… dealer?"
His attacker was a girl that almost looked to be his age. Blood dripped freely from her chin, dropping unto her naked body. Naked? He forced his eyes to stay at gaze-level. Yet, he did glimpse down, and a single glimpse was all it took for the sight to be burned permanently into his memory. He could tell from his body's production of a certain hormone that he liked what he saw. He forced down the thoughts and cleared his head.
The girl giggled, biting softly on her fingers as her face contorted into one that left Midoriya uncomfortable. "I'm going to kill you~"
"W-wait, you really shouldn't –"
She ran at him. She ran straight at him. Izuku groaned. He'd been sparring with Katsuki Bakugo for ages. Compared to someone who could augment his speed with explosions and change directions and actions on a dime… your movements are slow.
Slow and predictable.
Dodging underneath her first punch, he drew from images of martial arts movies he'd watched, and the brief scenes of wrestling and mixed martial arts he'd seen throughout his lifetime. The years of his experience being bullied, watching bullies, and understanding the necessary strength and strategy needed to bully someone.
His hand smacked away her pitiable defenses and he went in close, spinning her around and slamming her into the ground with both hands behind her back. He placed his knee against her back for good measure, ensuring she couldn't escape.
"Sorry," he said, sheepishly. "…you're actually the first person who's tried to kill me. A lot of people will be sad if I die, and I have a lot of things I want to accomplish… so I can't really hold back against someone who wants to take my life."
She tried to struggle. Tried to wriggle free. He didn't give her the opportunity.
"Um… can you… stop? This – this is kind of awkward because you're not wearing any clothes and if someone came along they might think I was doing something… bad."
From the angle of an outside observer… Izuku knew he was compromised. No amount of explaining would come out quick enough to justify why he pinned a naked girl to the ground and was on top of her.
"My name's Izuku." He began. "Midoriya Izuku. What's yours?"
The girl didn't respond.
"Is there a problem you have?" Izuku asked. "I don't believe people just try to kill others without reason. Especially strangers. If you're in trouble or need any help – I can help you out."
The girl laughed. "You're so funny Izuku-kun."
Izuku frowned. "Why did you try to kill me?"
"Let me go and I'll show you~"
"Does it have something to do with your quirk?"
"Izuku-kun says the funniest things."
"So it does have to do with your quirk." He scratched the back of his head and sighed. "Another one…"
People whose quirks made them different.
"…do you know where the Trigger dealer in this area is supposed to be?"
"He's gone."
"Gone?"
The girl sung. "Gone~"
Izuku's gaze went into the darkness. He could make out a vaguely human outline on the floor. Human, and unmoving.
Dead. Dead. Dead.
Murder. Murderer.
Crime. Murder. Turn her in. Police. Arrest. Right thing.
The right thing to do. The right thing to do was to call the police immediately. To let the police arrest her. Take her away. She killed someone. Ended a human life. What justification could she have? None. None at all. It was inexcusable. There was no justification whatsoever for ending a human life.
If he called in the police now, they would take the body. They would also take away the Trigger that was on the body. More so, it would bring questions. Investigations. What was he doing, at this secluded alleyway, so late at night? What would he tell them? He'd been going for a stroll? He'd lie? He'd tell them the truth, that he'd been here with the purpose to buy drugs?
It'd be on his record. Something like that could be traced back to him. It was something minor, but it would affect him in the long run. What if it damaged his odds of entering UA? What if it was brought up, against him in the future as an argument?
Do the right thing.
The right thing. The right thing. The right thing to do would be to get a murderer off the streets. But at what cost? At the cost of his future? At the cost of the dozens of people suffering, the lives he would save, the lives he would improve? He needed that Trigger. He needed to analyze it, research it, and prove to Saiko he knew what he was doing. Prove that he had the conviction to do what he said he would.
Whatever it takes.
He regretted telling her his name, now. Had he not done so, he would have been able to absolve himself from the situation. Take the trigger, leave her tied up, and leave an anonymous tip to the police to come pick her up. He couldn't do that, now that she knew his name. She had no reason to not give his name to the police once they asked her how she got tied up.
"I'm going to let you go." He said, slowly. "Please don't attack me. You've already killed someone. I might break your limbs if you attack me, if only so you can't use them to kill anyone ever again."
The girl shuddered from his words. Shuddered and let out a short, rasping breath.
He rose, cautiously, from her back. She spun around on a dime and lunged at him with her… lips?
His right hand blurred into motion, slamming his palm on the underside of her jaw. The light in her eyes faded. He stepped aside as she collapsed to the ground, out cold. Midoriya sighed, giving one last glance to the girl before approaching the body of the trigger dealer and steeling his mind.
Whatever it takes.
