Five years ... Has it been five years? Maybe not.
I have been trying again and again to find the right story, the right plot. This is all I have honestly, I took everything that worked and removes everything that did not. Consider this story the rebirth of "Prohibited Power".
Reviews are appreciated.
Oh, and before I forget.
YES, I USED GRAMMARLY STOP HARASSING ME NOW.
Shoutout to Lego ... Sorry, I never liked the DBZ crossover :)
Cover by Pedro Augusto (wished artist would respond to emails / messages), yes I'm talking about you Emerald Library people.
Quirks, the reality of this world—special abilities obtained at birth: fire breath, teleportation, laser eyes, anything you can think of...
The very fabric of society had been shattered by these newfound powers, and humanity had to undergo a significant transformation to adapt to this new normal. Over the course of several hundred years, the process of adjustment was both tumultuous and transformative. At the present juncture, scientific estimates pegged the percentage of the global population possessing a quirk at a staggering 80%, leaving a mere 20% categorized as "quirkless."
With such a vast majority wielding an array of godlike abilities, it was inevitable that some would harness their gifts for nefarious purposes. Criminal activities fueled by superpowers quickly emerged, thrusting into the limelight a role that, until recently, had only existed in fiction: that of a super hero.
These individuals were meticulously trained and officially sanctioned to employ their quirks in the public sphere, defending and safeguarding humanity from the threats posed by those who would exploit their powers. In this world dominated by superpowers, heroes became symbols of peace and prosperity—beacons of hope, idols, and models for all to emulate. This extraordinary phenomenon solidified itself as the cornerstone of contemporary society, a society constructed around the concept of heroes, the vigilant sentinels who maintained order in an age defined by quirks.
Izuku Midoriya had entered this world fourteen years ago, born into a reality where quirks reigned supreme. He had never dwelled too deeply on how different life might have been without quirks, but occasionally he found himself wondering if such a world would be simpler, perhaps even better.
He was one of the unfortunate ones classified as "quirkless," a label that had been confirmed by a doctor's diagnosis when he was only four years old. The news hadn't been well received back then. For Izuku, his aspiration to become a hero was etched into his very being, the singular purpose he harbored when contemplating his future. Was it any surprise? Everywhere one looked, the aura of heroism pervaded society, shaping its very essence. If someone managed to overlook this aspect, it would be akin to gazing at the night sky and missing the twinkle of stars.
Yet, the society around him didn't seem to share his perspective. If only he could tell them about his quirk—something he couldn't physically demonstrate, like a reservoir of boundless intelligence or lightning-fast cognitive abilities. Such a revelation might have spared him the relentless torment he endured, the ceaseless bullying that had gradually chipped away at his resilience.
Fast-forward to the present, and it was a Friday morning—a day fraught with significance. Izuku was en route to Aldera High, but he knew that the end of this school was tantalizingly near. The meticulous preparations he had made would finally bear fruit. He had meticulously arranged for online schooling, a proposition he had been anxious about disclosing to his mother, Inko. Surprisingly, she not only endorsed the initiative but had harbored thoughts of it herself, never daring to broach the topic with her son, out of concern for how he might perceive her intent. In her eyes, Izuku was far from weak, and she couldn't bear to be the force that propelled him toward something potentially hurtful. Her affection for him had restrained her.
His mother's support meant the world to him. For Izuku, it didn't matter whether his dreams of heroism were dashed. The thought of consorting with the very same individuals who had subjected him to the bitterness of bullying made the prospect seem like a chore. In his own words, he would "take a swan dive off the roof" than endure such an ordeal.
At the same time, Izuku couldn't help but chuckle at his own morbid statement, imagining how entertaining it would be to record such a declaration and dispatch it to U.A.
Speaking of which, U.A. — officially known as Ultra Academia — stood as Japan's premier Hero School. His aspiration remained steadfast, aligned with that of Katsuki Bakugo, the persistent thorn in his side. They used to be friends once, before Katsuki's obsession with his explosion quirk obliterated their camaraderie. While the idea of amassing evidence to report Katsuki's bullying behavior to U.A. was tempting, the effort seemed incommensurate with the potential payoff. Aldera High went above and beyond to shield Katsuki from consequences, rivaling the magnitude of political or economic scandal. But the prospect of capturing Katsuki's incitement to suicide on record? Now, that would have held value surpassing heaps of gold.
Izuku's life was poised for transformation, irrespective of his fate with U.A. An alternate plan loomed: the possibility of monetizing his analyses of quirks. Even after being told he would remain quirkless, he remained captivated by the notion of possessing one. Not out of obsession with obtaining a quirk himself, but out of an authentic love for quirks as a concept. If something piqued his interest, he couldn't resist documenting and scrutinizing it, unearthing its deepest secrets.
While he couldn't pin down exactly when he had embarked on this path, Izuku was certain that he wouldn't tire of it anytime soon. His room housed numerous notebooks brimming with sketches, equations, and musings. A dozen notebooks, or a dozen lifetimes of exploration into quirks' intricacies. Unfortunately, his enthusiasm for quirk knowledge painted a metaphorical target on his back.
Of course, this passion wasn't indulged in the corridors of Aldera. He had learned his lesson, having barely salvaged his last notebook after Katsuki unleashed an explosion on it. At least Katsuki's quirk couldn't incite real flames.
For Izuku, the path toward U.A. remained shrouded in anticipation. The goal was within reach, a reality underscored by the clamor and excitement that enveloped the classroom when their teacher distributed forms regarding next year's orientation. He knew how these scenarios often played out. With a quiet smile, Izuku concocted fictional responses, amusing himself by contemplating the most inconspicuous choices.
As the day flowed into lunchtime, Izuku deftly evaded bullies, transforming his evasion into a pulse of exhilaration. Yet, beneath this seemingly mundane lunch break, Izuku bore a secret—an ability that provided him an uncanny awareness of safe passages, akin to the ebb and flow of tides steering a ship through perilous waters.
The afternoon brought with it an assembly, during which the teacher glossed over the orientation forms. The general consensus was unanimous: the class aspired to hero academia as their foremost choice. As peers showcased their quirks for a brief moment, the teacher watched, unperturbed.
Katsuki, true to form, made a grandiose proclamation, basking in his perceived glory and belittling his classmates. Yet, Izuku's keen observance of the unfolding scene yielded an intriguing discovery. A corner of a page, subtly folded by Izuku himself, caught the teacher's eye. Was it wishful thinking to believe his strategy had worked? Nonetheless, Katsuki's bombastic triumph felt like a distant victory, its luster dimmed in Izuku's eyes.
Izuku's departure from Aldera was a stealthy affair, discreet enough to evade the school's detection until the year's end. Speculation would inevitably follow, but the resultant course of action remained uncertain—would Aldera officials hound his mother, trying to cajole her into surrendering Izuku back to their clutches, or would they dismiss his absence as a negligible issue? The school might underestimate Inko's determination, a grave error, for beneath her seemingly benign quirk lay an indomitable spirit that would traverse formidable lengths to protect her son.
As for his father, his existence was a nebulous enigma, a void in Izuku's awareness. His mother's account of his father's overseas work and monetary support raised disquieting questions. The influx of wealth seemed disproportionate, a source of provision that could sustain them for centuries. Such beneficence couldn't absolve his father of his abandonment, though. While Izuku wrestled with this painful truth, his mother's indomitable strength stood as a pillar of support.
How did Izuku navigate through these tumultuous waters, particularly when he was an apparent misfit in a world dominated by quirks? The answer lay in an ironic twist—he possessed a quirk of his own.
He stumbled upon it by accident; it was never his intention, really. When he was eight, he was engrossed in play with his mother when an odd sensation jolted them both. Initially, Inko dismissed it as mere static electricity, and they moved on without dwelling on it. However, two weeks later, while searching for his alarm clock, Izuku found himself unable to reach it since his nightstand seemed unusually distant.
Toppling from his bed, he accidentally knocked his head against a floating object. In a rush of excitement, Izuku sprinted into his mother's room, clad in his All Might pajamas, and bellowed at the top of his lungs that he possessed a quirk.
After about ten minutes, the two of them sat in the living room. Izuku had managed to activate his newfound ability with relative ease, discovering that it mainly involved a pulling sensation. Curious about his mother's experience, he prompted her to demonstrate, only to find her efforts yielding nothing.
She felt absolutely nothing. It was an awkward moment, but both mother and son had a solid inkling of what might have occurred. Inko was the first to break the silence. She reassured Izuku that everything was alright, expressing her understanding of the situation, and making light of how she had invested a small fortune in "quirk-proofing" their home when Izuku was younger.
Consequently, Izuku missed school that day. They dedicated hours to piecing together when the change had taken place and attempting to devise a way to revert Inko's quirk. They scoured the internet, delved into magazines, and considered asking Mitsuki, Katsuki's mother, for advice. However, they ultimately decided against involving anyone else in this private matter.
In hindsight, Izuku realized how ill-prepared he was to possess his own quirk, and he remained uncertain about its true boundaries. Eventually, Inko managed to regain her quirk, and she suggested that her son practice with this quirk of "exchange" for a while. It was the logical path forward. Izuku had a lot of ground to cover; he should have been honing and exercising his quirk since the age of four, a span of four missed years.
Yet, a quirk that could appropriate other quirks... it felt unsettling.
Rather than being targeted for his lack of a quirk, people would likely shun and isolate him due to the fear of having their quirks taken away. That's what they would do. While others labeled Izuku a dreamer, he saw himself as more of a visionary—not an overly optimistic one, however. His perspective on the world was pragmatic; people weren't inherently "good." Yet, some exhibited enough kindness to inspire others.
Hence, Izuku kept his quirk a secret, at least until he could apply to U.A. By that point, he hoped not to be burdened by others' reactions. Day by day, Inko and Izuku persisted in their training. With age came a deeper understanding of his quirk's potential. He began to sense quirks in his vicinity and, with sufficient concentration, could visualize their positions in space. Another accidental discovery allowed him to compel someone to activate their quirk, although he vowed to use this only in emergencies.
Before returning to his apartment, Izuku needed to buy groceries. His mother didn't have a job; she was a homemaker who valued Izuku's need for social interaction. He agreed with her; it felt nice to enter a store, greet a stranger without fear, and leave with a sense of normalcy.
Taking a detour, Izuku aimed to clear his thoughts. He hadn't contemplated what they'd do if online school didn't work out. They hadn't explored alternative options, and switching schools wouldn't make much difference, to be honest.
Suddenly, a feeling of danger struck him from behind, a sensation that someone was stalking him.
"A bit scrawny, but it'll do for now."
Izuku barely had a chance to turn before a massive blob of goo with a face leaped at him. A villain, here, when there was no one around to help. Self-reproach surged within Izuku. But at least he could finally release some of his pent-up tension.
The villain moved swiftly, too fast to evade. It enveloped Izuku, forcing him to focus and gain control of the slime's quirk. He stumbled a bit, unable to seize it fully, but he managed to inflict a pounding headache upon the villain. The slime retreated as if detecting an anomaly. Izuku struggled to catch his breath. The slime wasn't returning; it was slithering away into the sewers.
Coughing and weak, Izuku suspected he was getting ill. The pain persisted and intensified. Finally, he managed to open his bag. Weaker by the moment, he needed to call for help, for anyone. Yet, when he tried to shout, no sound emerged.
This couldn't be the end; it wasn't fair. Collapsing on the ground, he saw a looming figure approach, tall and dark, a harbinger of death.
Or perhaps not?
He awoke again, recognizing the familiar quiet street where the attack happened. He'd been relocated, leaning against a wall. Checking his belongings, he found his bag intact beside him. "That must've been quite a trip," a voice remarked.
Turning his head, Izuku saw the same figure he'd glimpsed before losing consciousness, standing about a meter away. A man, by the voice's indication, tall – taller even than All Might, if it wasn't for his transformation. Dressed in a formal suit, the man's head was obscured by a black, skull-shaped metal helmet.
Izuku's quirk stirred unexpectedly. There was something unusual about this man's quirk, but he couldn't quite pinpoint it. It felt like various personalities were intertwined, with some feeling vacant and ravenous. "Close call, isn't it? I understand the sentiment."
The young man was jolted back to reality by the stranger's words. He appeared villainous, yet his speech was... almost pleasant. Only a minute ago, Izuku had been on the brink of death. "Did... did you save me?" he inquired.
"Yes, I was pursuing this parasite. Had I arrived a few seconds earlier, I might have foiled its escape using a child? I shall ensure the perpetrator pays for that as well," the man responded. His demeanor was becoming more tolerable; perhaps Izuku's quirk was influencing this change. Izuku pondered what the man's quirk might be.
"I'm fourteen," Izuku corrected.
"But still too young for liquor or driving, I assume," the man shrugged.
"You determine adulthood based on alcohol and a driver's license?" Izuku countered.
"Not me; it appears to be the law's definition, doesn't it?" The man had a point, although it did feel odd to concede.
"Um, yeah... I suppose. Well, thanks for rescuing me, regardless." Izuku was ready to depart, but then he realized he had an opportunity to inquire. This person didn't seem to harbor a prejudice against quirks. "I have a question."
The man's composure wavered briefly, and Izuku felt he might have phrased it oddly. "Go ahead," the man eventually said.
"I... I want your opinion. Can someone be a hero without a quirk?"
The man remained silent for a prolonged moment, appearing almost on the verge of laughter before restraining himself. "You're truly asking, I see." He crossed his arms, his focus shifting from the question to Izuku himself. "I'm not precisely the best person to offer an answer, if I'm being honest."
Izuku scratched his head. "But you're a hero, aren't you? You should know."
The man didn't seem to appreciate this observation. "A hero? What prompts that assumption?" His presence escalated; while it had been intense before, it was now practically menacing. But Izuku wasn't about to withdraw.
"You saved me, right? Isn't that your duty? I don't comprehend how people could stand by while someone is suffering. Although people like me have ceased waiting for a hero to arrive and rescue us, I'm still grateful that you were here."
"What if I disclosed that it was all mere coincidence? Would your gratitude remain?"
"Yes."
The man froze. "I'm not a hero. If you cling to that perception, you're even more naive than I presumed." Izuku started to doubt himself; the attire was excessively conspicuous, and the quirk wasn't any better. Yet, he didn't expect to hear it directly from this person – what kind of villain introduced themselves in such a manner?
"You... you don't really behave like one."
"I'm superior to those lowlifes who rob stores and behave like loan sharks. You're astute enough to differentiate between petty criminals and a genuine threat to society." The man explained, raising his arms in a peculiar gesture.
"But you could've just said that initially... then I wouldn't have bothered you with... may I leave now? I shouldn't even be having this conversation." Stammering, Izuku felt foolish for displaying vulnerability to a complete stranger who might be a lunatic.
"No obligations tethering you here, provided you assure me you won't expire en route. That would be a pity... the main street is a few blocks away. I'd offer to accompany you, but I still have some sludge to apprehend." The man stepped back from Izuku.
"I can... I can manage, thank you." Izuku seized his school bag and commenced walking away from the man. His quirk was on alert, scanning for signs of danger. Yet, the man didn't halt him, except for—
"Regarding your question—" Izuku pivoted back toward the man. "—before I respond, what propels you? Why aspire to be a hero? There must be something compelling you toward this path."
What compelled him? Izuku had contemplated this question for years. "I wish to inspire people... I can't save everyone, that's not the point. However, if I can bring a smile to someone's face, my dream will hold significance. Someone, somewhere in the world, will always need a savior desperately. If I rescue someone... will they be inclined to assist others?"
"Sounds like you're pursuing hope," the man summarized. "A rather cruel falsehood... yet humanity has subsisted on lies since the dawn of societies. Hope is what people grasp when reason falters." He was implying that Izuku was desperate – not entirely far from the truth. "In theory, you could be as much a hero as anyone else. There was a time when power wasn't synonymous with quirks. If one exerted the effort, they could be as effective as the prominent heroes."
It was the first time Izuku heard a direct affirmation to this question. As far as he remembered, no one else had attempted to support him. At this juncture, even if it came from a villain, he didn't care; he needed to hear those words.
"But practically, society won't permit a quirkless individual to become a hero. Not after investing so much in propagating the image of these 'mighty' heroes who save the day with a grin." He dispensed this counterargument like a hammer blow. "Society presently molds its citizens through heroes and villains, while compliant citizens find themselves ensnared in the middle. Justice is no longer the focus." The man advanced toward Izuku. "You possess a robust aspiration and determination, yet you're lacking a pivotal element. If you want to be remembered, you must take the necessary steps to bring about change."
"I... I'm not sure I understand."
"It's not something I can elaborate. When the occasion arises, you'll confront the question and determine your course." Izuku couldn't come up with a clever retort or anything helpful; he merely... stood there. "I'm finished here; you're free to leave. And don't let your quirk frighten you. You can achieve great things,"
"I... I said I don't possess a quirk," he fibbed; there was no way this man had witnessed his abilities in action. Izuku had been careful to employ his quirk only through direct touch.
The man folded his arms. Izuku heard him mutter something, but he couldn't discern the words. "I suppose it's time for me to depart... best of luck." Then he vanished, reminiscent of something from an animated movie. Izuku genuinely wondered about his quirk's nature... perhaps teleportation? No, that didn't quite feel accurate.
Shaking his head, Izuku decided he'd better move on; otherwise, the store might close before he arrived.
Inko sat at her desk, organizing the documents required for Izuku's enrollment in the online schooling program. She navigated through the details, finding the cost significantly lower compared to Aldera's chaotic fees. As a mother, she felt a pang of guilt for not having earned her son's trust. Hopefully, things would improve from here on, but there was still a lot to manage.
A knock at the door disrupted her concentration. She considered Izuku, but he'd use his keys to enter. There was no delivery expected either. Leaving the living room, she proceeded to the front door, a growing sense of unease washing over her. How could she forget that ominous aura?
Opening the door without checking, she exclaimed, "Shigaraki! What a surprise."
Standing before her was All for One, his presence undeniable. Yet, he wore his helmet, an unusual sight unless it was a special occasion. Inko began to feel a sense of danger, unsure what she might have done to provoke his visit.
"If it isn't Inko, I apologize for my unannounced visit. I was in the vicinity, attending to some pressing matters, and recalled you were nearby. I thought I could drop by... unless you're preoccupied, of course." The villain spoke with politeness.
"Oh, no, I was... it can wait. Just filling out some papers and forms. Please, come in!" Inko stepped aside, allowing All for One to enter her apartment. She glanced behind him, half-expecting someone to follow, though Shigaraki probably concealed his presence using various quirks.
"So, this is your residence? Sending you millions each month, and you're content with this place?" All for One's comment wasn't intended to insult; it was his direct nature.
"If I suddenly buy a mansion without a job, it wouldn't end well. This place is perfect; it's close to shops, the neighborhood is mostly peaceful, and the internet service is excellent." She motioned for him to join her in the kitchen. "I only have tea, I've moved past my drinking days."
"I... I appreciate it, but I won't need a drink, thank you." All for One seemed unsettled for a moment. Inko regarded him with suspicion.
"Why the helmet? Are you out to harm someone?" Inko's question emerged as she prepared tea and scoured the drawers for biscuits.
"As a matter of fact, I am dealing with a particular individual. I nearly apprehended them, but I was momentarily sidetracked. The helmet is essential; there's a considerable amount of damage from a few years ago. Until I locate the right quirk to address the issue, I'm stuck with it."
Inko's heart raced; she had witnessed All for One being impaled, burned, and even a quirk stretching his body for absorption. Yet, someone had managed to harm him? "May I... may I see it?"
All for One sighed. "It's not a sight you'll find pleasant, Inko. You don't-"
"Please, I've been wondering why you suddenly vanished from contact about ten years ago. I assumed you were busy, and I didn't mind. Our business had concluded. This changes everything. Just how much pain did you endure?" Inko sat beside All for One, taking his cold, large hand in her own.
"You should have seen the condition of my opponent; what they did to me pales in comparison to what I inflicted." Inko remained composed, though All for One sensed her revulsion and the terror in her mind.
"Does it still cause you pain?"
"No, not anymore. Yet, there's a perpetual sensation of emptiness, something missing." All for One extended his hand in front of his face, as though attempting to grasp something. "I was careless, allowing that blonde imbecile to grow stronger while I was preoccupied fixing what- ... I shouldn't mention her, I apologize."
Inko didn't mind him speaking about Nana Shimura, her mother, though only by title. "She abandoned me; I don't care what you did to her, even if I were threatened by the devil himself – which, as far as I know, isn't more potent or influential than you – I'd never forsake- ... Izuku." Inko nearly forgot that Shigaraki had no knowledge of her son, for obvious reasons.
"Izuku? You- ... you have a child?"
"Yes, I... I had him a few months after I retired." Inko explained.
"So- ... you-you got married-"
"No, his father left when Izuku was diagnosed as quirkless." She interrupted, perhaps a touch more forcefully than intended. Inko shifted the conversation's focus. "How is Tenko? I mean, Tomura – that's the name he chose, right?" Inko acknowledged her nephew's existence, but both she and Shigaraki had agreed long ago that exposing the poor boy to any other living relatives might not be wise.
"He's well, I assure you." If not, Inko might have finished the job; she knew her quirk's potential for silent and swift lethality if desired. Shigaraki had been tempted, but Inko was an exception. "I've been asking him about his aspirations; he seems determined to follow in my footsteps."
Inko offered a weak smile. "A father figure, who would have thought?"
"Believe me, I saw it coming! I'm many things, Inko, but... I wouldn't be fit for the responsibility if my child's safety were compromised." Inko tensed. "I'm not a good father or a positive role model." At least they agreed on something – their children should remain as far from him as possible. It was probably too late for Tomura, though.
"So, my nephew is becoming a villain. What exactly is he planning?"
"He-" All for One began, then coughed violently. He tried to persevere, but eventually, he was forced to put his helmet back on. "Apologies. As I was saying, Tomura has matured, his trauma impacting him less. Still, he's unwavering in his resolve to target those responsible for a society that ostracizes outcasts and turns its populace into puppets... I'm paraphrasing."
Inko chuckled. "At least he has a goal. But I was asking about his strategy."
"Oh, his plans, yes... well... it commences with All Might's demise."
Inko nearly dropped her tea cup onto the table. "You need to intervene; this is a terrible idea." Tomura, who had barely survived All Might's strength, wasn't prepared to face the hero's full might.
"If not for All Might's weakened state, I would have. I ensured his days as a hero would be numbered, inflicting severe damage to his stomach during our last confrontation. He can't maintain more than two or three hours of active service daily." All for One sounded confident. "Tomura is capable; if he remains convinced, I'll support him with the necessary resources."
Inko leaned back in her chair, gazing up at the ceiling. "My family seems to be cursed with some sort of mental affliction. My mother chose to abandon her children rather than retreat from a battle she couldn't win. My brother turned into an abusive monster because of it. I embraced vigilantism and made it my livelihood. And now my nephew is poised to become the next Symbol of Fear... at least my son is normal."
"Please refrain from suggesting that we're too old for the-"
"I'm forty! Of course, we're getting older! But you encouraging him is even worse." Inko quipped, almost losing her temper with All for One.
"There was a time when, unless my memory betrays me, I knew a young woman who believed that no one was beyond reach." Shigaraki began, rising from his seat and circling the table until he stood behind Inko. She rolled her eyes at the villain's dramatic flair. "She made five attempts to vanquish the devil."
"Four." Inko corrected.
"I count the collapsed building as an attempt."
"It wasn't meant for you, I swear!"
"Anyway, they became friends – close friends, and partners above all." Inko instinctively drew All for One's arms around her neck. "They had their fun for a while and eventually realized it was time to move on, back to their individual lives."
"If you're trying to make me cry, you're failing miserably." Inko teased.
"Feels like I'm close to it... Should I eliminate your ex-husband for leaving? I could suggest something quite spectacular-"
"Hahaha, no, please. It's not worth the trouble. Izuku and I are content with our current situation."
"As you wish. By the way, I encountered a young man – quite brilliant, really. I happened upon him while pursuing a former associate. He pretended to be quirkless." Inko had finished her tea, and as soon as All for One mentioned a young man, she shivered. Of all the luck...
"Pretended? He had a quirk?"
"Yes! I barely had the opportunity to witness it in action. I truly wish I could possess a quirk like his. I've never encountered one that specifically targets other quirks... aside from mine, naturally."
Inko clenched her jaw to maintain composure. The description – it fit Izuku, and the last thing she wanted was for the two of them to meet. "You didn't steal his quirk, did you? Especially not from a child..."
"I'm not a monster. We had a very enlightening conversation. He even dubbed me a hero, me hahaha." All for One's laugh retained its ominous quality, even in irony. "Oh, how time flies. I must be on my way, but I promise to keep in touch."
"Just focus on staying alive; I'm not here to be your bodyguard anymore." The villain bowed and vanished into a mass of dark goo. "And he's just showing off..." Inko glanced at the digital clock on the kitchen wall. Izuku was likely taking a substantial detour, knowing how uncomfortable he felt in crowded spaces.
Friday was the worst day for grocery shopping – too many people, especially kids playing around with their quirks, putting Izuku on high alert. The sensation of hunger gnawed at him, wishing he could distract himself by munching on something.
Finally, he reached the front of the line, paid the cashier, and stepped back outside. His quirk settled down, making it easier for him to focus. This allowed Izuku to notice Katsuki and his gang – or lackeys, followers, whatever they were in Katsuki's vocabulary – not heading his way. Not willing to take any chances, he veered into the side streets, where the noise subsided and the overwhelming presence of countless quirks eased. His classmates had once called him a psycho, and in moments like this, he couldn't help but agree.
But his brief relief was replaced by another reason to freeze – this time not because of Katsuki but due to the unmistakable sludge quirk he knew too well. He was being hunted again, just like the last time, a villain seeking revenge. Should he backtrack? Should he let Katsuki humiliate him publicly to save his life?
"Don't let your quirk frighten you. You can achieve great things," the skull villain had whispered to him.
The sludge was drawing closer, Izuku kept moving forward, finding himself alone for once. He wouldn't be a victim this time. As the sludge lunged, Izuku spun around, extending his arms toward the menacing mass.
A crimson glow danced at his fingertips, and he grinned. The sludge must have been so sure of its prey, thinking it had caught him isolated and defenseless. How wrong it was. Now, they were plummeting toward their own demise, impaling themselves on Izuku's outstretched hand. Izuku embraced the villain's quirk, considering the pain he could inflict in return. The sludge shrieked and writhed, folding in on itself.
They were losing control. Exhaustion began to creep over Izuku as he pushed his quirk further than ever before. He had never ventured this deep, never felt so much of his potential. The villain's movement slowed, their screams diminished, and Izuku started to withdraw his hand from the viscous mess. Suddenly, a tremendous force crashed nearby, and a voice cried out, "SMASH!" Everything went dark.