Many heroes end up subjects of controversy; Captain Celebrity, with his hedonistic tendencies; Endeavour, his high casualty and collateral damage rates had countless people questioning the validity of his number two spot. But none held a torch to the Devil of the Shield himself, well that was now what he was called; but back when he was a UA student four years ago, he was better known as Naofumi Iwatani, two-time winner of the sports festival and class president of class A. People had called him awkward but determined, with a drive to save that was only rivalled by the likes of All Might.
But now, he was nothing more than a murderer and a rapist. Leaving trails of black fire and burnt corpses in his wake, some had wondered how this had happened, but most didn't gain access of this knowledge. Any information that could paint him in a somewhat positive light had been wiped from the face of the earth, leaving nothing but what he was now. Mainly operation out of Musutafu, the Shield has been known to also appear in both Hosu city and Tokyo 18th ward.
Whenever he appeared, he was known to start using his quirk to attack pro heroes with flames of unprecedented heat.
A little know and well-hidden fact was how, in no cases, had a single civilian ever been hurt as a direct result of his actions, only ever pro heroes and villains. Yet he had noticed, he had also noticed how, whenever he limped out from whatever hole he had been forced into, he only attacked a small group of people; red heads and those with fire-based quirks. This had led him to dig and dig, fuelled by nothing but grim curiosity and found the 'Devils' first victim. One Malty Yaoyorozu, currently an entrepreneur and number twenty-six in the rankings, she had appeared on talk shows and frequent subject of tabloids the nation over.
Though no one seemed to remember the attempted rape against her when she was younger, or how thirteen similar incidents has happened since. This was one of his reasons for being on the roof he was now, he wanted to be a hero, so badly. But if someone who had so much potential was turned to villain for a simple popularity boost, what chance did a Deku like him have.
There was no point in pushing forward anymore, so he had come up here, to think mostly, but also to contemplate ending his suffering. He had done this before, his last birthday, his eleventh one, had brought him close to the edge; but now, his shoes sat still on the other side of the railing along with a small note to his mother, something he wanted her to read, a thank you that she needed. He knew that this would hurt her, but what else could he do? Nothing he did was good enough, no one accepted him and normally that would be enough for him.
But he had read what had happened to that man, that man he knew was brought to the very edge he was on now and had been shoved over the precipice and into the void that people spit at in disgust. Even when he clambered back over the railing, pocketed the note and shoved on his shoes, he still felt nothing but pity for the mass murder known as the Devil of the Shield. Because Izuku Midoriya saw himself in that man.
"Wow, so cool!"
"Yeah it is, isn't it,"
The fool smiled nervously, he shifted his hand through the air and the green projection moved along with it.
"It's called 'Air Strike Shield', it is really strong but not that mobile so I'll have to use it and then abandon it after,"
"Even so, that's amazing, I bet you could reach number one with this!" the woman he was with came close, pressing herself against him and giving him a blinding smile.
A blush came to his face, "N-number one is a bit far, this isn't even that strong a skill, Myne,"
"Haha, come now Naofumi, we don't need to use hero names, we're only students," she brought herself closer to him, her face inches from his own, sweet nothings spilling forth drowning the poor, naïve, fool.
"What's this?" Shit, looking around, he saw Kac-Bakugo standing next to his desk, holding his notebook in his hands. His hero notebook, thankfully. It would be sad to see it go, but if he had gotten a hand on his villain notebook then he might not survived long enough to carry out his ultimatum. "Another notebook… " he flipped it open "and about heroes, you just don't learn do you shitty Deku,". His personal bully carried on to flip through the book, the two thugs that were next to him -they were more yes men then Bakugo's friends- peered over his shoulder and into the book.
They carried on, a smirk growing on his face until he reached a specific page, one that made the three share a collective smirk. Izuku found his eyes widening, the page he had stopped on was closer to the end of the book and was rumpled from drawing and redrawing. This put him on edge, there was only one hero he had spent that much time on on that particular section of that book. The thugs gave each other a look and Bakugo face morphed into something that belonged more on feral dog than a future hero.
"Got a little crush have we?" the boy flipped the book to face him to show off page 147-148 of hero notebook #13, the one holding the front page of the entry about Myne Sophia. It held a detailed portrait and several profile shots that he had spent hours on, along with extensive analysis of her abilities, strengths and weaknesses. At the very end of the second page was the beginning of her personal analysis. He knew that the said analysis went on until page 156 before leading onto her 'achievements' of which she had many.
While he normally formatted his analysis: Picture, quirk, strengths, weaknesses, personality. When it came to Myne, he had put a lot more efforts into everything, every super move was written down and every angle and previous costume was drawn. He did understand how Bakugo could misunderstand his fixation with a crush, but it was quite the opposite. To understand his interest in the heroine, you just have to look back to when he was younger, back when he was only three. Then he had been obsessed with a video, a video that showed All Might, the undisputed best hero in the world, saving hundreds of people from a natural disaster.
That's also why he still loved this video to this day, no villains to fight, no cool super-moves, just a hero saving people; and for a while that's what he thought a hero was. But then he had encountered Myne, she was a controversial topic, being a firm advocate for both Heroes using lethal force along with the notion that she had more of a responsibility to be on camera than to save people from burning buildings. Yet she still managed to get to the top and it had stumped him on how someone so vile could succeed so much. The more his younger self learned and the more he dug, the more he realised Heroes weren't 'Heroes'.
Myne, despite being the most prolific and the worst of all heroes (in his opinion at least) was not the only one. Most heroes only got into the business for the money and fame and over time he lost any will to be a hero. Why should he. A quirkless kid wasn't marketable unless it was on a make-a-wish poster, so how did he have a chance in with the likes of her. But that didn't stop him from wanting to save people (oh, how much did he wish that he could). But he digressed. The extensive notes on the heroine were because he wanted to know the true depths of her corruption and so far, he found that it ran down to her bones.
But even then, he carried on digging, the sliver of hope for his goal pushing him forward, until one fateful day at the age of eleven, he cracked through. In that year, he learned of the Shield Devil and all hopes because that had been a publicity stunt.
The destruction of a mans life was a Publicity Stunt, she had ruined one of the best future heroes careers just because she wanted to start out more likeable and sympathetic. And the public swarmed to it like a fly to shit. That day, all faith in heroics was destroyed, because everyone loved her; he had yet to meet someone who didn't love that bitch, which is why he hated her.
Everyone was just as excited about making the Shield Demon a pariah as they where to lick each heroes feet, sure he had found a couple of heroes that had no dirt on them. But they where overshadowed by the over commercialized and oversaturated piece of garbage that Heroism was now a days. There where only three members of the top ten that he vaguely respect. All Might, Crust and Yoroi Musha.
"Well tough luck nerd," one of the thugs sneered, "as if she would end up with someone like you, I mean, just look at yourself,". He was snapped from his musing, though he was not fully in the moment, because he didn't care, despite his own instincts flailing in fight or flight, he was already resigned to the results of this confrontation. There was no where to run, so he may as well just ignore them and ride out the storm.
Though despite of that, Izuku's mind still went back to his ultimatum. Today was the day, the one he had planned out for a couple of weeks now, since he had turned twelve he had known that this event was fast approaching, it was a marvel that he had survived another as long as he had… it was only just last week he had sat contemplating on a rooftop for what felt like the thousanth time.
For just over a year he had known, but he knew, just knew, that this was the day. It had to be, because if not, well... he already knew he didn't belong in this world.
After that day those two weeks ago, he decided that he wanted his death at least to be done his way. So if his hero notebook was destroyed now, then it was half of his work gone. Which was unfortunate, but he really didn't care that much -even after all the work he's put into it. In the end, all of his work could be destroyed and he wouldn't care, he wasn't going to be around to fix them anyway, so he didn't fuss.
Just as he thought that, a sharp explosion came from Bakugo. Cringing at the noise, he watched as his personal bully threw his shrivelling and smoking notebook from his hands and out of the window, landing with a splash bellow. Now as the bastard placed a hand on his shoulder and started to rattle off more threats, he counted down the seconds until he could leave.
Once the walking chemical hazard had done with his ego boost, Izuku continued to pack away his things, indifferent to what had just happened; then, he walked over to the window, grabbing onto the bar that led from side to another, all he had to do to open it was too push. He unlatched it and opened it as far as it would go -which wasn't far with the windows having large lever hinges to stop people doing what he was about to do- before squeezing through.
Hanging from the small ledge of the third-floor window, he closed his eyes and focused, this was something he's done hundreds of times before to avoid bullying and general harassment so that meant he had the timing down to a T. He yanked his hands back and felt as gravity clutched him in its grip before air started to whip his shoulder length hair up and over his head.
Quickly thrusting his hands forward at just the right time, he caught himself on the ledge of the second-floor windows. He did it again and again and again until he felt as his feet hit the floor with a dull jolt. He wasn't a parkour expert, it served no use to him, but he'd kept himself just fit enough -memorised just enough escape routes- that he would be able to stop encounters like the one he'd just had from happening more often than not.
Looking down, he saw that the book was in the koi pond, he yanked it out, one of the fish was eyeing it up and he disliked the idea of it being eaten. It was sopping wet, but he didn't care, just shoving it into his bag and walking to the schools exit.
Many places where either to close to his house or to small for it to be any use to him. But after a couple of hours scoping places out, he decided on a place, it was a hotel in a fairly rough place in down, it was mainly used by people who wanted to do... well drugs and sex. He found both distasteful.
Anyway, he walked through the doors and into the lobby, he didn't waste anytime making a break for the stairs, which he opened and entered without a hitch. Most hotels in this city had a card system where you first go to reception, pay for a room and then get a card that allowed you to access any area inside of the hotel; you even needed a card to access the stairs, which he had found out the hard way a week ago. He'd scoped out the only place in town that didn't follow that policy, instead they just gave out keys for the rooms and that was it.
Anyone was allowed into the hallways and that was what made it popular for the aforementioned business. Luckily he didn't encounter either on his walk up, but he did see a couple of dubious liquids that left a deep twist of disgust in his gut. Yet he gave them no heed, stepping around them and going further up, up and up the building.
Once at the top, he encountered an anticipated problem, the door was locked, but he didn't waste anytime panicking about a problem he already had a solution for. He slunk off his back pack and reached inside, pulling the crowbar out with a bit of difficulty. He'd saw this on his walk here, at the time he'd been wondering how he would get through this very door, but for once the world seemed to be on his side.
After only one or two pulls, he's wrenched the door open, from there he made a beeline to the edge. Dragging his bag across the floor as he did. He didn't waste any time and quickly slipped his shoes off just as he hoisted himself over the railing.
Looking down, the floor almost seemed to run from him, the drop almost seeming endless to the cold, dank alleyway bellow. But he took a deep breath and calmed himself down. He didn't know how long he stood there, picturing everything that made his life a living hell, but at the end of it, he was determined.
Taking a single step forward, he felt the wind whip around his hair.
Blood was everywhere, but to be honest, what did he expect.
The food was raw so it would have blood.
He wasn't sure what animal it was, it had black and white stripes, but that was all he knew.
Heat from his dark flames, illuminated his path as well as lightly seering the flesh of his meal, that was the best he'd get. The blood was good anyway, it'd quench his thirst for a while.
Leaving his meal once he'd satisfied his hunger, he stood and walked, it was time to find her.
He didn't know how the bitch managed to survive, but no matter how many times he burnt her to cinders, he would find her again.
Peaking from behind a shop corner, peering over his shoulder, purring into his ear.
It infuriated him, and with his rage, the flames built.
Scouting out the dark corridor, the vast expanse he could barley see through, he finally saw her.
Off in the distance, she strutted past whatever this corridors mouth was. So he walked, a grin on his face.
But the closer he got, the further away she fled. It was disgusting how cowardly she was.
Just as the thought met him, he felt something.
It was pathetic and could barely be considered an attack, but he jumped back and turned to see what it was.
A figure, coiled in the darkness, lay on the floor. Form flickering from his vision like gas.
Head turned, looking at him, it whispered things he couldn't hear. He was tempted to stomp on it, in fact, he would. He raised his leg and grinned, this bastard, whoever it was, believed her. It was glaring with eyes of black, blaming him, accusing him. He hated it, so he would kill it.
"I… y-u"
As it talked it's words became clearer.
It was odd, he hadn't heard anything but the laughs of bitch for what felt like years.
But slowly, it came to focus, green hair and freckles. Twisted and bloodied form. Legs snapped in awkward angles.
"You didn't do it,"
The words struck him like an axe. He didn't understand, it was clearly a lie, but his shield was heavy and the flames around him were becoming too hot. Burning him. Rending his flesh to ash.
Quirk overuse. It was a conscious thought, the first Naofumi Iwatani had in over four years. The darkness he was surrounded with receded away, leaving behind a dark cold ally way.
But his eyes didn't wonder, no it was fixed on the form, a boy, no older than sixteen. Legs broken and eyes dead. Gazing at him with surprised flinch. Before they fluttered closed. In a panic he rushed down to his level, checking his pulse. It was there. He turned to his HUD, flipping through his weapon forms he found the medical shield, he switched to it and scowered his inventory.
It was completely unchanged from when he last looked at it. He grabbed one of the pills. Just looking at it brought anger bubbling up, it was produced by Yaoyorozu Inc.; which thanks to the quirks they employed, could morally produce stem cells without having to take them from an embryo like old methods had to do. It gave them a monopoly on the medical industry in most first world countries and made them a lot of money.
It made that Bitch a lot of money.
But his rising anger was squashed by the twitching form of the dying child. He slipped the Stem Cell pill into his mouth and whished that it worked. Normally the pill could only cure underlying diseases, like paraplegia, not completely revitalize a person. But his quirk helped it out, not only making the effect instant, but super effective.
He quickly grabbed onto both the boys legs and placed them straight with an uncomfortable crunch, just as he did, the flesh stitched itself back together and the bones slid back into position. It was just as disgusting as he remembered it.
Soon enough the legs were set and all the other injuries gone. As the adrenaline left his system, he fell back and leaned against the alley wall. Taking in a deep breath, he closed his eyes. He could think about this later.
