Wham

Izuku fell to his knees, gasping for air as he gripped his stomach. The pain wouldn't have been so bad if it didn't radiate throughout his still healing body. Any harder, he feared his wounds would open up.

"You left yourself open again," Shigaraki said in an annoyed tone as he cracked his knuckles. "Stand up. We go again."

Sighing frustratedly, Izuku stood up and got into his fighting pose.

It had been two weeks since these training sessions with Shigaraki had started. Despite the fact that his body was still recovering, he held nothing back, further adding to his injuries.

His progress was slow, as Shigaraki reminded him. Despite this, he kept trying to fight.

He lashed out and went with a right hook, followed by a kick. Both were dodged and Shigaraki responded with his own blows. Izuku blocked the first one, but the second and third knocked back and left him dazed.

"Come on, brat," Shigaraki taunted lazily. "I didn't keep you from being a statistic just to be disappointed."

That made his blood boil. Gritting his teeth, he charged forward and lashed out faster and harder. This time, Shigiraki had to physically block one the blows before returing with a vicious kick to the stomach.

Izuku fell to his knees and retched. Over his wheezing breathes, he heard footsteps approaching.

"You must not break him, Tomura Shigaraki," Kurogiri's voice sounded, with a touch of concern and annoyance.

Shigaraki stepped forward and grabbed Izuku by the head, turning it to face him. He was too dazed to resist. Looking into his eyes, he smirked behind the mask.

"Don't you worry," he said calmly. "This one's already broken. I'm just trying to fix him."

Those words cut through the haze of pain and confusion. Already broken.

He barely heard what the two said next as they left, going to meet the Master for something.

He laid down on his back and tried to ignore the dull ache all over his body. He hated these lessons. He hated the pain and ridicule. Though that anger helped him fight better, it still failed him.

But what bothered him more was the feeling lurking beneath that anger. A sort of desperation. Why was he desperate? And why was the blurred and nearly faded image of All Might now shifting, turning into something more twisted and dark, yet familiar?

"How is his progress?" Master's voice resonated from the tv, commanding all his focus. Kurogiri had teleported them to the lab, the green glow of the containment tube casting an eerie feeling over him.

"Slow. He's a quick learner, but he's lacking something. It's really annoying." He scratched his neck in irritation. No matter how hard he pushed, the kid never went all out. Though commenting on his 'attempt' seemed to trigger something, it was only for a few seconds.

"Izuku Midoriya has a keen mind. He would be more useful in other parts of our operations," said Kurogiri. "He should serve some purpose, should he not? Else we are taking unnecessary risks." Shigaraki sneered, scratching his neck more rapidly.

"Going soft, are we?" He wasn't wrong though. A few news outlets had already noted his absence. He wasn't anyone important enough for any pro heroes to start looking, though. Orphans weren't all that wanted right?

"Kurogiri does have a point, Tomura," his master chided him. "Our sources tell us that he was noted by his teachers to have acute understanding of quirks, as well as their strengths and weaknesses. He could assist us in developing Nomu."

Tomura's eyes shifted over to the large green vat containing a massive dark figure. It had in development for the past few weeks. The candidate was a low life thug that wouldn't be missed. Infused with multiple quirks and physically enhanced, he was the ultimate weapon. The thought gave him an idea.

"What if we give the kid a quirk? He'll improve quicker that way."

His master was silent for a moment. "That would involve telling him of my abilities. He has potential, but we can't be too reckless."

He wanted to protest, but he never had reason to question his master.

"That being said, continue with what you are doing. But while training him, find a way of reading him, see if he is trustworthy and willing to join us."

He bowed his head. "As you wish." He turned and walked towards Kurogiri. "And Tomura," he stopped. "Though he is young and in need, he may be a hidden font from which you can gain. Learn from him as he learns from you."

Shigaraki said nothing. As Kurogiri's dark tendrils enveloped them, confusion gnawed at him. What could he learn from that kid? Sure, he felt a kind of connection to him, but in the end, he was just a kid he saved from being a lost statistic in this wretched society.

But the more he thought of it, the more the memory of that broken, lost child that master saved years ago changed. His eyes, hair and that look changed. What was happening?

The next day, Izuku was on his back, sore and exhausted. The session had been the same as usual. Before he could prepare for the next attack, Shigaraki reached out a gloved hand, with only 3 fingers and a thumb.

Why does he always do that? Grabbing his hand, Tomura pulled him up and steadied him.

"I'm pausing this fight for a bit." He walked over to the wall and sat down. After a moment, he gestured for him to sit as well. Hesitantly, he walked over and sat next to him. A few, awkward moments passed as they sat in silence.

"Why are you here?" The question caught him off guard.

"W-What?"

You've been healed and decided not to die, right?" He continued, scratching his neck. "You've been here for weeks. You haven't asked anything of us besides a bed and food."

He didn't respond, for he didn't know the answer. In all honesty, he no longer saw anything worth pursuing in life, but he didn't want to die, as tempting as it was.

"The police are looking for you. Surely you'd want to leave, right? Go home and-

"That wasn't my home!" He snapped suddenly, immediately covering his mouth afterwards. Shigaraki tensed up slightly, the scratching ceased.

Izuku blinked. He didn't know why he reacted like that. The home he had been raised in since mom died wasn't bad. The woman watching him was an old friend of hers, so she had taken him in at her request, She had been nice, but never really made much of a connection, nor did he.

"My home was with my mom, before I still dreamed of being a hero. When I thought I could be something without a quirk. But now she's gone, and my one idol destroyed that dream."

"But you can still think you can be something without a quirk?" Izuku turned and frowned, unsure of how to answer. Shigaraki's voice had taken on a softer, unreadable tone.

"I don't see how," Izuku finally replied. "Having one makes someone special. Be able to hope and dream with certainty. A gift I wasn't given."

"A gift, huh?" Shigaraki picked up a piece of broken concrete with three fingers. Izuku looked at it, expecting something flashy or surprising, like super strength. To his shock, it disintegrated into dust when all five fingers touched it.

"A gift that can kill. No matter how flashy and awe inspiring they are, that's a simple fact. That's what most people fail to realize until-" he stopped. He turned to look at Izuku, his eyes not softened, but less menacing than before. "If you could be given a quirk, would you accept it? Just to be a hero?"

Izuku was about to answer, but then that darkness hissed from the back of his mind. That skeletal face with piercing blue eyes. With it came a feeling of anger, a defiant anger. Kacchan's and Shiragraki's words were like knives, carving away at what he always believed and hoped. After a moment of this tempest of thought, an answer emerged.

"No."

Tomura felt something stir in response to the conviction in his voice. A kid this broken by life could muster up that kind of resolve? The feeling, he realized, was pride. He almost smiled.

"Well then, quirkless kid," he said, standing up. "Let's see what you can be without it." For a brief moment, All Might was gone from his mind. All he could see was the hunched, dark form of Shigaraki. The sensation passed, but regardless, he smiled and stood, readying himself for another fight.