Chapter Two:
This bright and lively child now lives as nothing with dead eyes and tear tracks running down their face as the darkness of the world follows them to their death, again and again, and again
World after world the child is brought and world after world the darkness comes there is only corruption in their wake
A desolate life follows, a life of friendships, a life of sacrifice, a life for a life
Humans, arrogant beings who believe that it may be their right to take another's sun to ruin them from the inside out
This child is dead One can see it in the way they walk in the way they look how the bones jut out from their side and every step looks weary and old
Yet the child continues 'for that is all they can do
Ever since Itsuki could remember, he heard voices in his head – voices and whispers telling him how to do things and what is the right answer. Yet, they always failed him in critical, or more precisely, social moments. The voices seemed unsure when it came to social norms.
He heard the whispers shouting for blood before he'd heard them call for something else, so he blocked them out because the calls for blood sounded violent, and violence was bad. So was keeping the voices from his mother, brother, or father. But he wasn't very good with relationships, and communication was like a foreign concept.
Sometimes being viewed as selectively mute came in handy, and other times it was annoying when he couldn't make them understand.
But he couldn't answer because he just couldn't. There was this paralyzing fear that if he talked back or was even rude to the adults in his life, they'd do something.
His mother and father weren't like that. His mother was violent, with a tendency to shout, but that was how their relationship worked.
They'd insult, hit, and scream, yet they still knew that they loved each other. His big brother saw him as weak and inferior, believing that he needed to be protected. He didn't scream, shout, or throw tantrums, even when he didn't get what he wanted.
He got stepped over and taken advantage of despite being barely four years old.
The other children had grinned at him, urging him to show his quirk. He didn't know what it was yet; it hadn't manifested, but that was fine.
Quirks could manifest from the day a child is born to the time they turn five. Being quirkless was rare, and it was just bad luck that Midoriya was one of the unfortunate few who couldn't manifest a quirk.
The children bullied Midoriya relentlessly, never giving up for a second. Even his brother was in on it, but he couldn't say he cared that much. This was Midoriya, not his brother or his friend.
Midoriya's younger brother and his only friend didn't seem to be bothered by their brother's unfortunate situation. It was unnerving, yet painfully familiar in the way a few things made him want to laugh, scream, and cry all at the same time.
That boy, who looked exactly like their father with long, black hair, pale skin, and fake eyes, you wouldn't know them and Midoriya were related, but you could see it in their shared body build, the way their nose was built, and the vague feeling of peace that oozed out of them.
His friend, Doku, didn't seem very connected to the world, as if he were simply an observer watching from the outside, detached. He wondered if the boy simply didn't care or if this was a factor in their future quirk.
He'd stare into the boy's eyes, wondering why they lit up, and looked at him as if he hung the stars.
But Midoriya once looked at his brother like that, as if his brother had hung the stars and the moon. He wondered if this was simply a Midoriya family trait, though he hadn't seen Mrs. Midoriya looking similarly intrigued. Maybe she grew out of it?
The boy with hair darker than midnight and eyes like stars, and a detached, almost amused expression constantly on their face, Akumu or Nightmare, was his nickname.
Something horrible and detached that preyed on anyone, regardless of their relations. Something dark and negative, and so very terrifying because they were terrifying.
Only their victims knew what they did, but they couldn't fathom the idea of telling. Telling likely meant round two, and something dark and twisted coiled around his whole being, and it felt nice.
Hurting someone, hurting himself, always brought the feeling of a vicious tornado hurling inside his mind. He tried and tried to figure out if perhaps he wasn't as good of a person as his mother, brother, and father wanted him to be.
His brother may be a bully, but at least he doesn't feel this conflicting confusion and need to injure himself to the extreme.
He wants to take a knife and plunge it through the eye, chest, neck, anything he can get his hands on. He wants to hear the scream of agony as they try and fail to get away.
He wants them to come back to seek the same agony just so he can remind them why they hated him so. He wants to see how far he could push someone into hatred and see how they destroy themselves from the inside out, as they become as ugly as he feels.
He knows it's wrong he knows it like the shivering that possesses his mind like the nightmares that scream at him like the bone-chilling tiredness that permeates his every hour
He wants to shut it all out to grasp onto the morals that had been beaten into him since he was born the morals that everyone follows but it felt so easy as the feeling of the small knife he had stolen from someone as it slides through his wrist as the chocked sob leaves his mouth as the pain flairs and the thought of infection leaks into his head
He looked at it barely enough to cut skin and it was so mesmerizing as what he saw wasn't red but green only after a few seconds did the red start flowing he grabbed a towel and wiped it off carefully hissing as the towel clung to his injury to the place he'd started it it was deeper than the rest and he believes that stretching his wrist might just open it
He makes sure to cover the whole thing pressing the hopefully stop The bleeding continues to fall from his eyes as the pain starts registering and he stares as the green that had once fallen out of his wrist now comes out of his eyes
It burns
A gasp leaves his mouth as he covers his eyes it only spreads the burning pain to his eyes it hurts he wants it to stop he wants it to rope why doesn't it stop? This is his quirk, isn't it? Why won't it listen why won't it stop?!
He clutched at his eyes wanting to dig them out of his sockets he didn't register the scream that left his mouth but his parents did he'd been rushed to a hospital where he eventually fell asleep
Nightmares plague his mind once more of blood-ridden mountains of black tendril oozing out of each crack of the reality that is this dream 'for this is a reality a reality that he can escape this is his destiny yet needs to escape
He looked above him from his kneeling position at the throne made of bodies up to the man that haunted his dreams one he was certain he hadn't met before, one that was painfully familiar if only in this dreamscape he looked up and for the first time their eyes meet
So much– PAIN
His head hurts everything HuRtS he wants to he needs to get away he doesn't understand why this is happening why his throat burns why the pounding in his head got infinitely louder
He understood the vague memories in his head the odd feeling of knowing things he didn't before of things entering his mind and clicking in place without his permission or saying so it hurt and he wanted to stop it but he couldn't
He heard the laughter –no, cackling– that is familiar only in the vague memories that he is receiving the harsh sounds of winds blowing past his face and he reached out for a hand that was never there
"–ku–" the voice came out choked but he wanted to understand to know who this Ku was so he screamed and thrashed and shouted but nothing penetrated the endless void that plagues him.
it stops.
A hand waved at him snapping him out of his memories it had been many days now since the hospital visit and many days until he figured out how his quirk worked he didn't know the true extent of what he could do nor did he remember much from those nightmares
He felt a pounding headache rising but all he could do against it was pray that it didn't hurt too much, this was the cause of his quirk the more he used it the worse his headache would be
His quirk theoretically allowed him to do many things yet nothing at all right now the only part he had unlocked had something to do with his eyes nothing had changed the blood was always red it was just his vision that made it look like the glowing green he remembered
This ability is passive he doesn't know what it's called –he does– but he sees black goo oozing from every crack –it reminds him of the nightmares– in the house and even on the trees or on the asphalt and he was one of those first generations– someone who has a quirk unrelated to their parents
Because none of them had a vision-related quirk in his quirks... it was to see the truth, the –ugly– truth of the world –the corruption that seeps through every corner and every crack– it was weird to see the greenish waterfalls flowing everywhere and the dark black reaching like roots throughout the walls and floors
He blinked and stared at the boy who was his friend "Hey! you've been glaring at that wall for a while now!" The voice was chipper it was only chipper like that when talking to him
It sent a weird satisfaction throughout his whole body –to be needed, to be craved– and he carefully dislodges the tendril of possessiveness away from his heart he knows, he knows that he has lived a life before this but... he doesn't want to remember
He can remember anguish, fear and the sound of burns. snapping of hateful voices drowned out by the screams of the dead and he believes that remembering will only cause him pain
The voices have always been there screaming at him for revenge but without his memories without knowing who they were well– he's only a four-year-old child what could he have possibly done?
He keeps all thoughts of murder away from him it wasn't the best idea not with how much his brother loved to scream and shout and injure
He doesn't understand his brother why does someone like him want to be a hero? For fame? Glory? Adrenaline? Money wasn't something they lacked and his brother was always so violent one would Believe him a villain–in–the–making but he isn't, not unless a hero school would reject him and then blacklist him from every other one because Katsuki wanted to be a hero and damnit he'll make sure his brother will be
This is his brother someone he'd do anything for, anything.
He grunts feeling the –sadly, familiar– weight of a certain raven boy nicknamed Akumu by their peers and he can't help but feel exasperated at this boy who always seemed to be enamored by his eyes
He had brown eyes, brown hair, and caramel skin that looked almost... washed out, in a way that made him look tired like a dead man walking and he would laugh at it for in a way he was but he didn't want to be
Those memories of being someone before being a man who was filled with anger and hatred and so much glee over the blood and pain of the others around him
He wasn't too sure what exactly he was like in his previous life but he knows one thing, the man he was before wasn't innocent –and you, with a villain's quirk. Will follow his footsteps–
He distracts himself from dark thoughts by conversing with the enamored raven "Noiret" his mind corrects but despite finding it in the dictionary despite knowing that everyone uses it he can't it feels... wrong like so many other things in his –second– life
He sighs "Doku..." as that was his true name, poison. –like what flows through you– not Akumu not Nightmare and certainly not any of the derogative names others call him
Wide innocent eyes looked at him but he knew the true emotions behind them he knew of the constant state of amusement the boy, Doku was in and Doku knew that he knew as well
He frowned and tugged at Doku's hair 'till the boy rolled to the side and just stared at the sky He looked down at him the boy who despite all wanted to be his friend
"Kiki..." Doku suddenly started and somehow managed to sound both chipper and serious at the same time it was a facade his mind whispered and he couldn't help but agree
"Have you heard the quote "If you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you?" He shook his head wondering where his friend had found this quote
"It was pretty popular in the pre–quirk era it was by some guy named Nietzsche or something" Doku shrugged and closed his eyes
He didn't bother with what his friend was trying to tell him it would unravel when his friend wanted it to and not until then it's scary how intelligent his friend is despite them being so very young
–He believes his friend is in a similar position to himself, he believes that Doku is another reincarnation one that has embraced himself and all that comes with it he doesn't know just what to think about that perhaps his friend wasn't as horrible as he, perhaps his friend didn't know what they were getting into...–
The two sat in silence until they were called back into the kindergarten.