This is gonna be my return to this. Sorry about not being here. Needed to focus on other things. I have a partner now. He's amazing.
Anyway, this is gonna be a return to form for me. Izujiro. But...this is going to be one of my more interesting twists. No crime lord. No 1-B, no Villain Izuku, no Military Izuku. I want to try to create something I'm proud of. Just...me writing what I want to in this first chapter. And then going from there. We'll see what happens...how 'bout that?
-DMJ-
"How many people are you going to hurt?" A voice yells at Izuku, as the green-haired teen stares down at a boy, beaten-half dead lying at his feet, his hands covered in blood.
"...How many people are you going to keep sending to fight me, Alika?" Izuku replies to the voice, his voice far too broken for a boy of only 14.
"GIVE UP! You'll just drop eventually!" Alika snarls, her voice ugly and hateful
"You're just going to make it worse for yourself. You don't have infinite simps." Izuku sighs, staring the men flanking the older girl.
"KILL HIM!" Alika shouts, and nearly 20 grown men rush the young boy, who sighs, shifting into an odd fighting stance, with his front arm down, relaxed, and his back arm pulled back, ready to throw
Ducking under the first punch, Izuku slams a powerful standing roundhouse to the jaw of the older man, sending him to wonderland as his body drops.
Unable to dodge the tackle from the next man, he grabs the man by his hair and knees the much older male until he slackens, and he throws the sack of unconscious meat and bone at another man, who trips over his comrade, breaking his nose on the asphalt. 3 down...
Ducking under a kick, Izuku throws a low kick of his own, shattering the knee of the attacker, who screams as he drops. A larger man grabs Izuku from behind. Curling his legs up into himself, Izuku throws his legs back down, unbalancing the man enough to where Izuku can throw him over his shoulders, taking down the man with the shattered knee.
Taking a punch to the jaw, Izuku reels from the attack, before throwing a sidekick at a man with a knife, catching him in the solar plexus, effectively resetting the man's nervous system. As he regains his balance, bright blue spikes whip by his face, leaving a cut on his cheek.
"So we're doing quirks now?" Izuku mutters, studying the remaining conscious men.
"Fine. Don't regret this." Izuku growls, as his eyes glow bright green.
The screams could be heard from blocks away.
Six months Later
"You have a visitor." A guard says, looking at the green-haired boy currently writing in some kind of notebook. It's a beaten leather-bound book, with some kind of faded writing on the front
"Tell them to fuck off. I don't wanna see anyone. No one is gonna be here who I want to talk to." Izuku, now 15, replies, not looking up from his book.
"Told you." The other guard, a younger man than the first guard, has been serving in this juvenile quirk detention for the past 20 years. The older man has greying hair, and a hard, unforgiving face
"It's a visitor you can't refuse." The first guard holds steady, not budging
"Oh? And why is that?" Izuku asks, staring at the man with tired, yet intelligent green eyes
"It's the Principal of U.A." The first guard replies and Izuku raises an eyebrow
"Nezu. The man-bear-dog-thing. Is here to talk to me." Izuku says, in an incredulous tone
"Yes. You coming or not?" The first guard asks, and Izuku sighs.
Standing up, the 15-year-old boy rises to his full height of 5'9", at head height with the guards, his muscles rippling in the tank top he's wearing, clearly showing how well-built the young man is.
"Fine. Let's go." Izuku mutters, rubbing the back of his head.
Walking with the guards, un-handcuffed, they walk down the halls of the Tokyo Quirked Juvenile Detention center. Built about 50 years ago, it was still in excellent condition, considering the age of the building. It was constantly updated by both the HSPC and the Japanese Government, so it could contain the newer offenders as quirks slowly got stronger. A greyed-out building, with thick glass windows, and a 4-3 ratio of guards to inmates, it was one of the most secure buildings in Japan.
They walk towards the front of the building, and to the visitor's room. Inside is solely a silver metallic table, and the principal of U.A., a small, bear-rat-dog thing named Nezu. A terrifyingly intelligent, cold, powerful rat.
Izuku sits down across from Nezu in the metal chair that's bolted to the ground.
"Ah, Mr. Midoriya! Nice to meet you." Nezu says cheerily, smiling
"Don't call me that." Izuku snaps, his eyes glowing a bright green
"...I'm sorry...what would you prefer to be called?"
"Just Izuku," Izuku replies, crossing his arms
"Okay. Well then, Mr. Izuku, I guess you're wondering why I'm here!" Nezu chirps, and Izuku narrows his eyes
"You want to take me out of here," Izuku states, cracking his knuckles
"Well done, Mr. Izuku. Do you know why I want you out of here?" Nezu asks
"I don't know. And I don't care. I'm not going. If that's all, I would like to leave." Izuku says, standing up, cracking his back
"Oh? You don't want to become a hero?" Nezu asks, curious
"Nope. Never wanted to. They never did shit for me, why should I try to be one?"
"Become a better one."
"HAH! You're funny, I'll give you that. 'Better' is a pipe dream, Nezu." Izuku snarls, walking toward the door
"...Inko Midoriya. Hisashi Midoriya. Died together in a villain attack when you were 5. You bounced around from orphanage to orphanage for the next 8 years, until you were arrested and convicted for Lethal Quirk Use, earning yourself a 27-year prison sentence as of six months ago." Nezu says, and Izuku freezes
"...Stop talking, rat." Izuku snarls, clenching his fists, his voice carrying a razor's edge
"And why should I? I'm not giving any opinions. Merely stating the facts. Let's see here...your qui-"
"I SAID SHUT IT, RAT!" Izuku snarls, exploding towards the desk, slamming a hand into the table, denting it.
"...Mr. Izuku. I know how smart you are, despite your tumultuous student life. You are more than smart enough and have more than enough control over your quirk to easily get into U.A., on recommendation, might I add. I'm not here to mess with you. I'm here to offer you a serious choice to become a hero and make something meaningful out of your life, other than jail and a dead-end job. So how about you work with me? If you pass the entrance exam, you can gain entrance into U.A. There's 4 months until the exam begins. You would be put into a teacher's housing, and live with them until the exam, and if you pass, continue on past that point, if needed. You would be given any additional training, food, a bed, and enough money to do what you want, within reason. If you pass and graduate from U.A., you will also be pardoned of all crimes, and allowed to act as a hero." Nezu calmly explains, his voice level and serious.
"...And if I refuse?"
"You rot for the next 26 years, 187 days," Nezu replies easily, and Izuku stares at the man. Bear. Thing.
"...I need to think about it," Izuku mutters, crossing his arms and sitting down.
"That's fine. It's not an easy decision. But I do need it by the end of the week." Nezu says, and then jumps down from his chair, and sticks out his little furry paw for Izuku to shake, which he does.
As Izuku walks out of the room and is taken back to his cell, his mind is racing. U.A. Nezu wants him to attend U.A. Arguably the most prestigious hero institution in the world, easily in Japan. But why? Okay, he's smart. So what. He nearly killed a dozen and a half people.
So Nezu wants something. What he wants...who knows?
Later that night, as Izuku sits in his room, writing in his book, he looks at the little device Nezu slipped to him in that handshake.
It's two buttons on a small emitter device. A red and green button. Not too hard to guess what they mean.
Izuku isn't cut out to be a hero. At all. But he knows what being shoved under someone else's foot and ground into the dirt is like. It's brutal...
He's smart, what Nezu said was certainly true. He was always smart, always studious. Always had amazing analytical skills. U.A.'s curriculum shouldn't be awful...
His quirk is strong. He is strong. He's been trained in enough martial arts to get him into U.A. His training is built around actual combat, not just sparring for points or trying to win competitions
But why him? Why a broken, trouble-maker, violent, homeless kid?
Unless...the death of his family...that son of a bitch.
"Izuku...please...don't...don't tell anyone..."
"Hey..what...what's going on?"
"...Some dangerous people don't like me anymore...and your parents are victims of them..."
"...Where's mommy and daddy?"
"...Not here."
"So where are they?"
"Heh...you always were curious...your parents loved that about you..."
"...'Loved'?"
"...Izuku, your parents are dead...and it's my fault."
1 week later
"Ah, Mr. Izuku! So, what's your decis-"
"You know why my parents died." Izuku snaps, cutting to the chase
"...Well, of course, I do. They died in a villain attack."
"No. You know." Izuku snarls and Nezu blinks a few times, and then his face breaks into a devious smile, and he holds a little paw
"We can talk freely now. Yes, I do know why they died."
"How?" It's not a question. It's a broken plead
"I've always known. It's not too hard. Your quirk. Your family. Your mother's maiden name. None of it is hard to figure out." Nezu replies, simply enough
"Fuck. You. You just want me for my blood." Izuku snaps
"No. I do not." Nezu says, his voice level, but carrying an edge of warning
"Oh really? Why then? My good nature?"
"Quite the opposite, actually."The small rodent chuckles, sliding Izuku a file he recognizes. It's his court file
"I don't need to read this."
"Izuku, you nearly 20 killed full-grown men. Who claimed they were defending a 16-year-old girl from you." Nezu says, raising an eyebrow.
"...So?"
"Izuku, I know the real circumstances. You take shit from no one and don't fall for scams. You refuse to trust authority figures or any institution of the sort. You're not one to follow blindly, and you are, simply put, not brainwashed. Most other kids your age are brainwashed into trusting...certain organizations. I need a fresh mindset in the hero course. You are incredibly competitive, and you refuse to take a loss. This attitude, combined with your physical and quirk process, your mind, and your attitude toward the authority figures of this nation, makes you a perfect fit to disrupt the hero society as it is now." Nezu says, and Izuku stares at him, shocked
"...You want me to be a hero to fuck over the government? Are you fucking kidding me?" Izuku laughs, and Nezu doesn't say anything in response
"...Okay, you're serious. Say I agree. What do you want me to do?" Izuku asks, leaning back in his chair
"Be you. Act how you would on any other day, at any other school. Refuse to take everything at face value, and refuse to be someone who constantly listens to authority. But also, check in with me every month. I want to make sure you pass, and graduate, getting a full license." Nezu explains
"...And why should I trust you? For all I know, you have ulterior motives." Izuku notes, and Nezu smiles
"And that's why I chose you. I don't need to trust me. I need you to believe me. Believe me when I say I'm tired of the HSPC getting away with all their shit. Killing dozens of kids, every. Single. Year. More rookie heroes die in their first six months than any other, because the HSPC teaches them they are invincible. They believe that teaching these kids that they are perfect is irresponsible, and has lethal consequences, but they refuse to change. I need you to show them that they are wrong. That they are not going to be able to tell every kid to listen and hang off their every word." Nezu says, his voice haggard and tired
"...You want me to be a poster child."
"I want you to be a rebel in a system built on systemic corruption, death, and violence. Poster children are what I need the least." Nezu snaps, and Izuku stares at him.
"Who are those poster children?"
"Children of Pros. Or HSPC members, who were pushed in. Or those too naive to realize what's really going on."
"Say I get in. How of them will I see?"
"Classes are 20. You'll see about 3-5 of those every year." Nezu shrugs simply.
"...I want to add a condition." Izuku sighs, and Nezu raises an eyebrow
"What would that be?"
"I don't want to be judged based on my past. My criminal record stays underground. You only tell those who need to know. Not everyone on the staff. Only the person I'm staying with, and my homeroom teacher, if they're different people." Izuku says, his voice calm.
"...That's fair. Anything else?"
"I take the exam fairly. I don't get any help. I train on my own, I get ready on my own. I don't get 'help'."
"Okay. Fair enough." Nezu chuckles, smiling.
"Okay. Then we have a deal." Izuku says, sticking out his hand
Nezu shakes it, a small, genuine smile on his face
"Let's raise hell, hm?" Nezu smiles, as Izuku grins back at him.