The guard was nervous. His body was too rigid, his gait lacked fluidity. No, not nervous. Scared. As he made his way down with his inmate, soon to be former, soon to be freed, one could forgive the guard for his emotional state. No, he wasn't one of the especially abusive ones. He dodged the mass firings, arrests and incarceration of many that had worked here. He was a garden variety asshole. The standard for having power over someone that couldn't fight back.

He wasn't innocent. He was, however, wicked in the acceptable ways so he got to keep his job. He'd thought himself lucky for that. He'd still be able to earn a wage, support his family. He'd be able to maintain, maybe even become the director of this place. The relief of having avoided prison, the hope of new opportunities obscured something that should have been frightfully obvious. But it hadn't occurred to him not until word spread. He was getting out. He wouldn't be under their control any longer. He'd have time to plan his revenge.

Now, was the guard especially hard on this resident? Only to the degree he'd been encouraged. Had he violated him for minor infractions while giving others a pass? Yes. Was he partially responsible for extending a few month sentence into five years? To some extent but he was only following orders. Sure, he didn't always think it was right but if the higher ups wanted the kid to stay then who was he to question it?

He wasn't a bad man. He wasn't. He followed orders. He supported his family. Did he deserve some form of retribution for that? For doing his job as he was told to do it? Did he deserve to live in fear? If you knew a threat to your family was imminent wouldn't it be right to act? To protect them and all you've built? Wouldn't it not only be right but his responsibility as a man to stop the potential downfall of his loved ones? His wife and his two girls?

Who could possibly fault him for that? What man would do anything different?

He looked over toward his charge. The boy hadn't even looked in his direction; likely caught up in his revenge fantasies. Sick thoughts of what he'd do to all the ones he blamed. He'd probably feel justified in going to any extremes concluding the wrongs done to him merited any retaliation he settled on. The guard felt the panic arise in him. He couldn't let harm come to his family. He couldn't let a threat just walk out, not when he knew of the impending disaster. He stopped walking and watched as the boy moved ahead of him.

"Stop, inmate," he said sternly. His release wasn't official, not yet so he was still expected to abide by all the rules of the institution. The boy kept walking. "I said stop, inmate" he repeated with a raised voice. He couldn't believe the boy was playing into his hands. He lifted his hand and reached for that internal source of power, that thing that made him unlike almost any other. His quirk, Paralysis, allowed him to cause the muscles to seize in anyone sixty kilograms or under and within a two-and-a-half meter radius. He activated it, his free hand going toward his expandable baton but he was the only one motionless.

The boy kept moving. This didn't make any sense. His quirk had always worked on him, without fail or delay. He tried again but his target continued to walk away. Something wasn't right. He wasn't in the place to handle confusion as he already dangled on a knife's edge. He was a good man. He followed orders. He never wanted to hurt this boy nor the others. He was ordered. It was expected. His wife and children didn't deserve to pay. His quirk needed to work. He needed to remove the threat.

A single green eye met his, the boy having turned his head just slightly. The look was unusual but the guard, somehow, managed to understand it completely. "You get it yet, dummy?". If his quirk hadn't worked now then it hadn't worked at some point in the past. He let them… he could have fought back but didn't. He… he just took the beatings.

He'd been playing with them. Biding his time. It confirmed everything the guard feared; everything. This boy meant him harm, designed to ruin all he'd earned. Extending the baton, the guard speedily walked toward the boy. The villain that lied in wait, taking count of every "wrong" done to him with no concern over hard working men that were only following orders. No concern for their families or the ways of the world. Maybe he got the short end, maybe he got more misery than his equitable portion but no one promised him a fair life.

He didn't get to have revenge because he got a raw deal. That wasn't the way of the world. But a man, a decent man with a job and a family could protect what was his. Protect it from a known threat. From a disobedient, conniving schemer.

The guard brought the baton up, a swift overhead strike would take the boy down. Regardless of what anyone said he'd argue the truth of the matter. This boy intended him harm, practically screamed it for all to hear. He was left with no choice. The distance closed so fast, up close the boy looked more like a young man and a threat. A villain that had managed to hide his putride nature but grew arrogant right before his ultimate success.

One solid hit. Just one. No one would blame him. He was a good man. A man with a job and a family. A good man. Better, a hero. A hero.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" a loud voice rang out and startled the guard. He stopped his approach and lowered his weapon, eyeing the new arrivals; Present Mic and Midnight. They'd seen what he intended but not why, they didn't know.

His tongue felt like lead, no words were coming out right. They dismissed him, vowing to walk the villain the rest of the way. He should have refused. He should have finished the deed. But they were heroes and he was just a man with a family. There was only so much he could do.


"I'm Kananea Joshi here with Midoriya Inko-san. For those of you who don't know, Midoriya-san was vital in the uncovering of the Hosu Youth Detainment Center scandal; a conspiracy to send young boys to the abusive facility for minor offenses and then keep them there indefinitely by extending their sentences. Thank you for joining us, Midoriya-san."

"Thank you for having me, Kananea-san."

"Can you tell us how you began to uncover this widespread institutional failure?"

"It started with my boy, Izuku. He had a late onset quirk manifestation caused by seeing a woman getting assaulted and robbed. He had no control, of course, and caused damage attempting to help. Due to the unauthorized quirk use and the property damage caused he was charged and adjudicated within the juvenile system. He should have been assigned a quirk counselor but was sentenced to six months in that prison."

"And this is when the cycle started, correct? Every time his release date was approaching he was cited for some violation that he vehemently denied having done, yes?"

"That's right, Kananea-san. I know this may not carry much weight but my Izuku was a good boy and only wanted to come home. He wouldn't do anything to jeopardize that. After the third extension I started digging and discovered he was hardly the only one; that the institution had so many rules, some contradictory, that it was near impossible not to break a few and worse yet, some boys simply disappeared.

I contacted every authority, every hero I could. Only All Might took me seriously, putting me in touch with a colleague more suited for investigative work. And still it took years to uncover enough proof."

"Worst yet, even proving their deceptions and abusive practices your son still isn't free to return to you. Why is that?"

"A guard, one long known for his proclivities tried attacking my baby and Izuku killed him in self-defense but to save face, to show that he isn't purely innocent, the Juvenile Criminal Commission used him protecting himself as justification to levy one final sentence."

"Before we leave, is there anything you want to say?"

"Heroes need to understand not all villains cause harm with their quirks, many do it with a stroke of a pen. They do it from comfortable offices and don't disrupt traffic nor cause property damage. We need heroes willing to fight those villains, too."

"Thank you, Midoriya-san. Next up, does having a pig quirk give you a leg up on making the best truffle dashi. Our next guest will weigh in. This is Musutafu in the Morning."

"Your mother must really love you, Midoriya-kun," Midnight said from the front middle seat of the SUV they were transporting him.

Izuku didn't respond. He didn't need someone to tell him, he knew and he'd witnessed how life had punished her for it. Weight gain over the years his quirk didn't manifest and near crippling guilt over not supporting his desire to be a hero and then weight loss as she worried herself sick while he was a ward of the state. He can't imagine he's been a source of actual happiness for a very long time and even now, he couldn't even return home.

If Midnight minded the nonreply she said nothing of it. The looming awkward silence was dispelled before it could ever truly take hold.

"Midoriya-kun, while I would like to avoid unpleasant matters, we must discuss the parameters of your release," the principal of UA said. Izuku nodded, though he wasn't sure what was unclear.

"First, you are in the custody of UA for the duration of your time enrolled there. Upon graduation you will be free to start your career and find housing elsewhere. Between now and then, you must keep your grades to within the top ten of your cohort and avoid any disciplinary issues.

You will be allowed to select your internships but they must be cleared by us. You will have a daily curfew and must check in if you are going to be late. A failure to adhere to these guidelines may result in placement within a new youth center."

Izuku stared out the window as he was, again, told who controlled his freedom. "Only the stick is real," he muttered.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Nezu asked.

"Carrot and stick, common metaphor to represent incentive and disincentive but it comes from methods meant to get horses and donkeys to move when they didn't want to. Thing is, the animals never got the carrot, it always dangled just out of reach. Only the stick was real and if only the stick is real the trick isn't going after the carrot."

"It's learning not to mind the stick," Nezu finished.

"You aren't the good guys here just because you allow a wrong to continue on more comfortable terms. Just another warden, just more C.O.s. Same reins, different hands." Izuku explained, voice so even that the boyishness still cut through.

"I understand why you feel that way but you must understand you were drafted into a much larger game. Your experiences were no accident and while my current solution isn't ideal it does keep you from a much darker fate. I hope you can trust me on that."

"Don't need trust. Tell me who they are and point me in their direction. Whatever happens after that is on me and them. No need for this imperfect solution."

"The best case scenario is you ending up dead and all of your potential squandered."

"It's my potential to squander. It's my life to risk. That's how it goes. I make a bad decision then I live with the consequence but at least I won't compromise myself. You know, like an academy for heroes that allows an organization to falsely imprison children for some nefarious purpose."

"And what of all the people you won't get to help?"

"Given it was one of your teachers that sent me to hell I'm not sure you get to ask me that question."

The ride, from Izuku's perspective, was mercifully silent for the duration. Even when they arrived at his on campus apartment, Midnight and Mic only spoke a bare minimum before leaving the one bedroom dwelling. He noticed a bag of clothes on his bed, on top of it a note from his mom. Robotically he put the clothes away in the closet and various dresser drawers until he came across a picture of himself in an All Might costume "saving" his mom. He'd forgotten she had the camera set up to auto snap his silly bout of make-believe.

Izuku clumsily collapsed on the bed as he felt his mask slipping. He was always an emotional child but learned quickly that emotions were seen as weak and everyone from the officers to his fellow residents disdained weakness. Weakness would get you beat until you learned to be strong. He felt the tears stream down his face, crying for the first time in years.

He hated that place. Hated the abusive guards that delighted in hurting them. Hated the kids that followed their example. Hated that he, too, came to disdain weakness and almost mimicked the cruelty around him. Izuku adopted a mask of indifference because he wasn't sure if there was anything in him beyond hate. He'd had hope. The day that All Might arrived announcing, "I'm here," Izuku hoped he'd get to go home. Hoped he could make it up to his mom. Hoped he could find a decent high school and do well enough to go to college.

He didn't dare hope to be a hero, not any longer. He was filled with too much hate. Hate for the system. Hate for the people committing small acts of everyday evil with no question nor regard for who they hurt. He saved most of his hatred for one individual. A person so cruel as to be indifferent to the pleadings of a scared child. One so arrogant as to bias everyone else before Izuku could tell them the truth.

Izuku thought his hope could quell his hatred. That it could lessen the weight on his shoulders and unravel the knot in his chest. But that was dashed. They wouldn't let him go. He'd forgotten the carrot wasn't real until he felt the sting of the stick once more. UA wouldn't graduate him, there wasn't going to be some tearful reunion with the only person in the world that cared about him. She'd continue to worry herself sick while he was in UA and he didn't doubt that rat had some plan that would put Izuku in continued risk until he were either used up or dead.

He'd never be free as long as that man lived. He'd never get to be what he wanted, this system pushing him to be a compliant animal or a rebellious monster. His only choice was to split the difference. Tomorrow would likely be his last day but before he went he'd make things right; he'd killed Aizawa Shouta.


"Where should I meet you after the exams?" Izuku asked Present Mic. He didn't care about the answer but he needed the hero to think about where he'd be before and reading his thoughts, Izuku knew where to go after the first exam. He pretended to listen to Mic and headed toward the auditorium. His steps felt heavy even as he took care not to draw too much attention to himself, though the black hoodie and red sneakers might catch an eye or two.

Upon arrival he sat at his desk, the test having been passed out shortly after. It didn't make sense to do the written exam, he knew that but some part of him wanted proof; he needed evidence that had those awful people not upended his life he would have had what it took to join UA straight out. He had the potential to be a great hero but they sowed the seeds of hatred and had to reap the fruits.

He worked through the multi-hour test. It was one of the hardest things he'd ever done. He'd prepared as best he could but youth centers aren't brimming with hero academy prep materials so he had to cobble together one as best he could. He should have focused more on math, a little less on history but answered every question. He wouldn't let them say it was incomplete. He soon wouldn't be in a position to combat the lies but he could follow the directions for this. Sooner than he'd have liked an end to the period was called and he turned in his work. He wouldn't say he aced it but he was confident he would have passed.

But that could no longer concern him. He pulled his hood over his head and made his way to his final destination. He hated how his body shook, his nerves trying to get the better of them. He couldn't fight the faculty and his body. This had to happen, there were no other ways forward. He deserved justice and so did his mom. He stopped at the bottom of the last flight of stairs he'd have to climb, the teachers were huddled in an observation room. Fifteen steps, a right at the top and then straight down. He took a deep breath. This was no different than manipulating the drops of water back in his "dorm" at the youth center. It's just moving things to achieve an end and then he'd be free. He began to climb the stairs.

He felt his vision tunneling but ignored it. His heart thundered but he paid it no mind, he couldn't. His legs felt like limp noodles but he pressed on, he wouldn't be denied. He wasn't a coward. He wasn't weak. Weakness gave people permission to hurt you, to dismiss you. To beat and burn you, to take your dreams without a second thought. Weakness was the cardinal sin of this world and in his final moments he wouldn't be weak. He'd show Aizawa what he'd become, what it looked like to carve yourself out of torture and stand tall upon the ruins of your subjugation.

Once atop the stairs, the nervousness lessened, damped by the fires of his pure hatred. The man who took it all from him was in reach, not even a hundred feet away. He could do this. He would do this. Too focused on steeling himself, Izuku didn't sense the person behind him, not until his hand rested on the greenette's shoulder.

"You seem lost, Young Midoriya," All Might announced with great cheer. Izuku nearly crumpled on the spot. All Might wasn't supposed to be here. Why was he here?

"Y-you c-can't b-be here," the boy stuttered out, his resolve shattered. All Might was a real hero, his hero. The person Izuku had once desired to emulate. He didn't want to harm him, not him.

"Oh ho, but I am! You, however, must get to your practical exam."

"Y-you h-have to leave, All Might!" Izuku yelled. He hadn't meant to, his control was slipping. This wasn't supposed to happen. He couldn't stop now, there was no turning back. Complete this last task and then be free from it all. That's all he wanted.

"No, my boy, I don't think I do. Whatever you're looking for, Young Midoriya, you won't find it here."

"Please, All Might, you have to go," he asked for a final time. He couldn't be stopped. Aizawa took five years from him, from his mom and hadn't faced any sanctions for it. He had to pay.

"When your mother wrote to me, she depicted a boy who wanted nothing more than to be a hero; to save people with a smile on his face." Izuku was confused, why would he bring up his mom? He couldn't think about her right now or dwell on how much what he was going to do would hurt her. All of her fighting had been for nothing, he was still trapped.

"I-I'm not that person anymore," and he wasn't. He didn't want to save anyone, he only wanted revenge and to be free from it all.

"No, I don't suppose you would be but Young Midoriya all heroes bring their pasts with them; for good and for ill. I did, driven by the desire to avenge my slain master I foolishly challenged her killer alone. That decision changed me but I also learned the power of a smile from her. Your past doesn't disqualify you from helping people and no matter how well intentioned you are, you will make mistakes."

"It's too late, All Might. Besides, they'll never let me. This deal is just a trick. When they've gotten what they want they'll find a new hole to toss me in." He was surprised All Might could be driven by such negative emotions but even he risked something to get justice.

"It is never too late. You may not trust Principal Nezu or even yourself but try to trust in me. I believe you have the potential to be a wonderful hero if you try. Try and you will become a hero."

Try? Hadn't he been trying? Obeying every rule even when they sabotaged him. Hardening himself until he often felt dead inside. He tried to wait for things to work out the right way. He was done trying. He didn't know why he was cursed, damned but he was through trying to fight it.

He'd held on for as long as he could. In secret, away from prying eyes, he developed his quirk in ways most would find unimaginable. Not for revenge but the last remaining tether to his dream. He wanted to be a hero so desperately. But as the years ticked away he lost hope. He still developed his quirk but only for himself, for his protection and his eventual revenge.

He was too selfish to be a hero. He couldn't smile anymore. He didn't want to save anyone. Even if society were to grant him a hero license it wouldn't matter. He once thought the world was fair. It took awhile but he wised up and accepted it was not; however, he foolishly believed he could fight the unfairness. Now, he accepted the world had problems but decided those problems had nothing to do with him.

But something in him, some long suppressed part of him felt a spark. This was All Might. His inspiration and one of the few heroes he still respected. The man that stormed his personal hell when the fakes went about their lives collecting headlines. His hero was saying he could be a hero.

"How? How could you possibly know that?"

"Because I am here, Young Midoriya! And as long as you are adhering to the requirements of your release I won't let anyone steal away your dream." Izuku didn't know if he believed All Might. Didn't know much of anything. He felt exhausted. He didn't want to hurt All Might but had no faith in a tomorrow he had no intention of seeing.

But his original dream was so close. Did he have it in him to try? Could he handle believing and having it ripped away? He wasn't sure. He felt unsteady, his resolve crumbling in the face of All Might's presence. He couldn't, he could not bring himself to harm him. Maybe others deserve it but never All Might. All Might was good in a world sorely lacking it.

Izuku didn't think of himself as good, not anymore. But harming good people certainly made you bad and he wasn't a villain. He wanted justice, he was owed it but not if it meant hurting someone like All Might. He wasn't good but he wasn't bad. If he turned bad then Aizawa won.

He was halfway down the stairs before he realized it and darted into a bathroom, not willing for anyone to see him lose it. His emotions were misaligned, parts of himself at loggerheads. The spark All Might ignited was threatening to spread while his experiences desperately wanted to suffocate it. He bent over the sink, splashing his face with water unsure of what to do. His lack of clarity sent a spike of anxiety through him.

Izuku's breath hitched, it became a struggle to get air to his lungs. He couldn't afford an anxiety attack nor a full breakdown. He had to center himself, even if only for the duration of the exams. He forced his breathing to slow as he focused on the running water. He reached out to the liquid with his mind, the stream being broken into individual droplets and diverted from the drain. He focused on each and every drop.

He couldn't obsess over what could be, not right now. He needed to grasp what was real. The suspended droplets surrounding him were real. The floor beneath him was real. His breaths, in and out, were real. Slowly, one by one, he pulled the drops into one large sphere of water and guided it down the drain. Cutting off the faucet he dried his face on some paper towels and then departed.


"You're kidding me right? Your old school put a stick up your ass or were you born with it?" Izuku knew that voice. It'd matured over the years, deepened by maturity but he knew it and the piece of trash it belonged to. He turned and exited the class without a word, not caring if anyone noticed. That rat… that rat was trying to prove a point, Izuku was sure. Why else would he be in a class with that villainous cretin.

Izuku felt his chest tighten and his fists clenched. He had five years taken from him for doing something on accident Bakugo did repeatedly, intentionally and maliciously daily; Izuku would know as he was the boy's favorite victim back before his quirk emerged. He wasn't that weak, little Deku anymore. Something ugly swelled within him as he imagined using his quirk on Bakugo and the impact it'd have. How much the blond deserved it and how unfair it was that delinquent jerk could come and go as he pleased.

"When the anger and resentment start to overwhelm you, hold onto the bright spots; to your happier moments."

Izuku recalled Hound Dog instructing him. He'd had regular sessions with the man since his transfer, as to Izuku's mind he hadn't been released. However, regardless of how he felt about being a ward to UA he wanted to get better and find ways to release all the negativity within him that didn't result in massive property damage.

Calming himself, he reentered the classroom, just for that boy Bakugo was denigrating to stride up to him, adjusting his glasses.

"Where is your uni-grk!" the boy's words withered in his throat as an invisible force choked him. No, they weren't going to be starting things like that. Midoriya lifted the hood of his baggy, dark green hoodie and met the taller boy eye to eye.

"You should be careful approaching people as if you have authority over them. You might find yourself choking on the presumption. When I release you, go to your seat." Izuku did and the boy complied but not before shooting him a dirty look. He didn't care. No, he wasn't in his school uniform. It was a freaking statement of protest and he didn't need some narc to lecture him over it.

"You're all taking too long to get to your desks. Every second wasted is a second you haven't saved someone," an even, almost bored voice said from above. Izuku, too, knew that voice. It was the voice of the demon that sent him to hell. The villain posing as a hero that sought to ruin his life. The one man he detested above all, even his cowardly father.

"Aizawa," he said, each syllable dripping with contempt. The rat had gone too far, too sure his boot was firmly on Izuku's neck and needed to be disabused of that notion. Maybe a teacher more or less, most certainly less, would get his point across.


Hey. New story. The inspiration was reading a lot of Izuku fucked over and turns villain/vigilante stories as so few have them struggle to find a place within the existing system. Yet, we see people in real life who are falsely convicted or otherwise wronged by society that seem to want to be a force for good so this is about him struggling to find his way in a system he rightly distrusts. And he is OP b/c oh no will the hero win! Rise to glory stories are fun but I don't like writing them.