'I heard an Angel singing
When the day was springing,
"Mercy, Pity, Peace
Is the world's release."
Thus he sung all day
Over the new mown hay,
Till the sun went down
And haycocks looked brown.
I heard a Devil curse
Over the heath and the furze,
"Mercy could be no more,
If there was nobody poor,
And pity no more could be,
If all were as happy as we."
At his curse the sun went down,
And the heavens gave a frown.
Down pour'd the heavy rain
Over the new reap'd grain ...
And Miseries' increase
Is Mercy, Pity, Peace.'

"No."

Midoriya Izuku knew many, many things, but only a few had ever managed to hit him as deeply as that one word. Why, you ask?

Because the one to say it was the one he revered above all others, his idol, the number one Hero, the Symbol of Peace, All Might.

People are not created equal. This was a truth that Izuku had to confront when he had turned four years old and failed to manifest a Quirk. It was a truth that Izuku braved every single day since then as he single mindedly tread towards his goal.

To be a Hero.

No, that wasn't his goal. That was merely an important step towards his actual goal. To save people with a smile on his face, just like All Might.

Of course, he had several hiccups to even start on the path towards becoming a proper hero. The first of which had been that, in a world filled with superpowers and insane Quirks, he had nothing.

Nothing except his mind, his smile and his tears.

None of which stopped the Number One Hero, the Symbol Of Peace, All Might, from denying him his dreams.

"Sorry kid, but being a policeman or a fireman would be great too. They don't really get the credit they deserve in this Hero-saturated society. I'm sure you can do great work there. To be a Hero, as you are now, you would be nothing more or less than a liability. It's good, great even, to dream, but keep them realistic."

Izuku dazedly watched as his idol walked away from him after doing the objectively right thing. After all, there would be no way that a poor, Quirkless, scrawny teenager could ever become a Hero.

Under his despair, below his hopelessness, almost strangled by his self-derision, was a single spark.

A single spark that fanned itself into a bursting bonfire of nothing less than apocalyptic fury. Izuku's green eyes shone with unshed tears, but his face twisted into a ferocious snarl. He always had rage simmering under his skin, but this was the very first time that it had been allowed free of the binds it had been placed under.

All his life, one word had hounded him in his dreams, in his waking nightmares, seducing him with the one thing his tormentors wouldn't dare touch him had he dared possess it.

Power.

But he never said the word. He never claimed what was his. He simply knew that it would take from him far more than he would be willing to pay. But to lose he had nothing. His smile merely a passing memory, his mind blunted through years of disuse, and his tears rendered worthless. For what worth would there be in a single drop in an ocean?

And so, Izuku held out his left hand and said four words, four words that changed absolutely everything. "Come to me, Yamato!"

His hand burst into haunting blue flames that promised nothing less than death, blue flames that soon solidified into the shape of a sheathed katana, the tsukamaki (handle/grip coiling) of which had a pattern akin to an ordinary katana, giving it the traditional diamond shape in the negative space, and the rim fittings from throughout the sword no longer have flowing line patterns in gold on shakudo like black metal; rather, gold dragon styled menuki are inserted underneath the tsukamaki to allow for the fingers to grip.

The tsuba/handguard was gold and a deep navy blue, shaped like an octagon with two trapezoidal halves, each with gold dot pattern patches and in a grove like motif with gold rings, inside of which are various circles in clusters of three, arranged in triangular patterns, and the gold habaki/fuller is also with a similar embossed pattern.

In short, it was a really, really fancy sword, which the green haired boy promptly raised high above his head, pointed downwards, his eyes dangerously blank.

In the very back of his mind, Izuku wondered why he was doing this. Sure, he really wanted to become a Pro-Hero, but would this be worth it?

Yes, answered the abused boy's unending rage.

Yes, answered the boy without hope's memories.

Yes, answered the boy without dreams' last remaining bits of innocence.

No, replied the boy's tenacity, that withstood ten years without power, and was fully ready to endeavour through many more. But it was ignored and forgotten.

"Yes," replied the boy to his own, unspoken question.

And thus, the boy, whose hair flared and turned white, before he could doubt himself, ran himself through with the sword in his hands.

"Heavy chain, that does freeze my bones around!" The boy spoke slowly, with heavy purpose, enunciating every single syllable through his pain, and inserted the sword, Yamato, into his gut to its hilt.

The pain Izuku felt was nerve-searing. It was far beyond anything he had ever felt before. But he persevered through, and found himself staring at… his own body?

His body, that was very quickly mutating and turning into something that Izuku had most definitely never been before. A monster.

Before Izuku could make heads or tails of what was going on, he got hit on his sternum by the thing that was once his body. People sure have a lot against my solar plexus today, thought Izuku as he shot out in response to that punch.

The punch, with the addition of the pain from earlier, along with the glass shards from the window he had been literally punched through, was enough for Izuku to take a nap.

A nap that lasted all of a minute before the sounds of an explosion woke him up. Unbeknownst to Izuku, the moment he opened his eyes, three black things detached from his shadow and found themselves in various objects around him.

One, in a sculpture of a panther, another in an engraving of a demonic-looking bird, and the third, into the rubble all around the perhaps-concussed and definitely-naked young man. Rubble that glowed briefly and sank into the shadows.

Izuku felt his back heat up as he tried to get up from the floor. That was fine, he was used to feeling mysterious pangs of heat after any altercation that results in physical injury, like when he talks to Kacchan, for instance.

What Izuku didn't expect was the sudden piercing pain he felt out of nowhere that subsided just as quickly. It was like Kacchan had somehow managed to spread his sweat all over Izuku's back and ignite it all at once.

Izuku, as he was oft to do, ignored the unexplainable pain and got up from the floor. Only to stumble and nearly fall to the ground once more. He was feeling so weak! It was like his legs were unused to the burden that was his body.

It was at this point that Izuku finally looked down and saw his legs. And his lack of clothing. It took a moment to process, but when it finally sank in that he, Midoriya Izuku, was lying down in a gothic thrift store of some kind, dressed in all but his birthday suit and his backpack.

And so it was, that two minutes later, Izuku was fully clothed in a long, open sleeveless leather coat with the sides tied together by strings, inside pockets, and a sewn-in, corset-like vest in the front along with black pants with a silver chain made up of skulls on the right side of his belt and a fingerless glove on his right hand.

Izuku might or might not have gotten carried away there. Most of the clothes he had found were things he wouldn't have been caught dead in, made for girls, or were way too big for him.

Izuku wondered where the owner had been and why he had not been arrested by the police or some Hero or the other, when he heard an explosion ring out on the street. He took one step, and promptly fell down like a puppet with cut strings.

"Right," he muttered, "need something to help me walk. The Roof Incident did… something to me. What can I not remember? I… turned into a monster? But that can't be right. Why would I- I want to become a Hero! But what was that sword? Do I have a Quirk? Why awaken now? Why not-"

It was the distinctive clatter of a metal staff that broke him out of his musings. Unbeknownst to the boy, an aura of darkness had piled over him as he had fallen into his downward spiral of despair.

It took Izuku a minute to find the staff in question. It was a silver metal cane with a price-tag attached. Izuku looked at the tag, calculated mentally, shrugged, and went in search of the front counter.

On his way there, he found the footwear section. Izuku was sad to see his red boots go, but there was nothing he could do about it. He had promised himself a full breakdown when he was safe, and that time was fast approaching.

So, limping slowly, armed with his cane and new regalia, Izuku walked towards the front door of the place. On his way there, he tore out a page from his notebook, wrote down an apology letter along with the sum total of everything he had taken off the store's shelves.

It was really a strange store, however. Why on Earth would the owner leave it unattended? It was full of really strange clothes. Clothes that Izuku admitted, if only to himself, that grew on him.

So, Izuku was walking on the streets again, just like before, albeit in vastly different attire and assisted with a silver cane. His… body, for lack of a better term, had apparently knocked him to the other edge of town when he had been smacked. It had taken a good bit of walking for him to stumble on a street he recognised.

It hadn't taken him much longer to find a mirror, however. As it would turn out, manifesting a Quirk suddenly that split a kid into two pieces, one of which was a Mutant Type, did weird things to one's body.

Izuku still looked like himself… sorta. He still had his green hair, although they were… shinier? than before, his freckles were still there, but they were all wrong. Instead of them being in diamond-formation along his cheeks, they were instead more haphazard, or chaotic as some might say.

But the greatest change of all was Izuku's eyes. Or eye, singular to be more specific. His left eye had changed from its normal viridescent green to a cold, steel blue. The strangest thing of it all was that Izuku felt absolutely no need to panic at all. Despite his many, many memories to the contrary, his new… everything felt perfectly normal to him.

Izuku, who already had, like, four freakouts from the events of the last half-hour or so, was relieved that, at the very least, he had one strange thing happen to him that day that did not instil a near-panic attack in him.

Izuku hobbled his way over to familiar roads on his way home while contemplating his Quirk, what exactly it was, trying very hard to avoid thinking about what exactly led to him thinking running himself through would be a good idea when an explosion rang out on the side-street next to the one he had been in, providing an effective distraction from his woes.

Izuku was tempted to just walk on and go home. It had been a very eventful day, after all. But his feet (and cane) led him straight to the scene of the crime-in-progress. Old habits die hard, apparently. Izuku found himself at the back of a rapidly-forming crowd, which was being held back only with the efforts of Pro Heroes Death Arms and Kamui Woods, both of whose voices Izuku could easily hear above the tumult.

Izuku absent-mindedly noted to himself to add 'good at projecting their voice' on his files of both Pro-Heroes, and 'bad at situational thinking' to Pro Hero Mt. Lady's as she loudly stated that any road with less than four lanes was her 'one weakness'.

Izuku found himself at the front of the crowd as he finished sorting through his thoughts. The incident in question was three, no, four, Izuku internally amended as he spotted another Pro (The Fire Rescue Hero, Backdraft, Quirk- Water Pump) dealing with the fires before they became an issue.

Fires that arose because of the rampant explosions at the hands of the Villain..'s hostage?

Izuku blinked and rethought the whole issue. The Slime Villain was free (Izuku internally winced and promised to apologise to the victim. No way All Might would have let the villain escape from his custody, it was Izuku's fault, no question about it) and was trying to get another 'skinsuit' in the form of some blonde kid wearing Izuku's middle school uniform with an… explosion Quirk of some kind?

That was a question for another time. Izuku remembered how suffocating and power-sapping it had felt, with that Villain over his face. He had barely lasted seconds, and the blonde in front of him had lasted over a minute.

Izuku asked Death Arms, who was next to him why no Hero had gone in yet. The answer he received was so simple and yet so utterly baffling. "We're waiting for someone with a better Quirk to arrive, kid. Better stay back, this might get… messy."

Izuku wanted to protest, propose a plan with the Heroes present. It would have been simple too. The four Heroes present were very diverse. Hell, even Mt. Lady on her own could have dealt with the situation!

But he made a mistake.

He turned and looked toward the Villain, and saw the eyes of the victim. Strangely familiar red eyes that seemed to be begging for help.

Izuku was past the boundary set by the Pro-Heroes in an instant, running at full tilt to save the oddly-familiar kid from the grasp of the Villain. It was stupid. It was insane. It was the dumb thing to do. It was none of Izuku's business.

Izuku found himself throwing his backpack and its contents at the eyes of the Villain, buying himself a couple of seconds. He grasped his silver cane, holding the handle out to the fiery blonde, who grabbed it without hesitation.

Izuku smiled shakily at the blonde, shouted at him to "blast the eyes with your other hand and hold on tight!"

Before the hostage with the explosive sweat could formulate a response, Izuku turned around, cane over his shoulder, and heaved with all his strength.

The red-eyed blonde burst out from the Slime rather easily. Of course, that would have been the case had Izuku been living in an ideal world.

In the world Izuku was living in, the blonde (Izuku really should ask him for his name. It was really awkward knowing that there was someone from his year at his school that he didn't know. Especially someone with such a powerful Quirk) managed to get to about his waist before the Slime Villain managed to regain his wits and begin suction.

Izuku, who had sadly not worked out much at all through his life, not for a lack of effort,mind, but because… someone would always come in his way, felt his arms nearly pop from his sockets at the increased resistance. He would have probably let go of his cane within a second or two.

Lucky for him, the Slime Villain did not have a second or two.

"HOW SHAMEFUL OF ME! I FAILED TO PRACTISE WHAT I PREACH! FEAR NOT, DEAR CITIZENS! FOR I AM HERE!"

Also luckily for him, the Number One Hero was known for his control above all else.

"DETROIT SMASH!"

One punch from the Number One Hero blew away the Villain. It also completely changed the weather. The victim and his impromptu saviour had nary a scratch on them.

All Might proved his point to Izuku once more.

There was no way he could become a Hero. Kacchan was right. He couldn't be a Hero, not without a Quirk. Perhaps it was for the-

Izuku frowned. Who in the heck is Kacchan? When have I given anyone a nickname like that? Maybe Mom would know.

One well-deserved chewing-out from Death Arms and, to a lesser extent, Kamui Woods, Izuku headed to his home. His hobble had returned sometime along the way.

Izuku was, like, 70% certain the hobble was his mind tricking himself, being a physical manifestation of his mental weakness.

Izuku was about two blocks away from where the Incident had occurred before he was interrupted from his musings. By the blonde middle-schooler he had saved.

"OI! DEKU!"

Izuku had turned around at the mention of that name, but adopted a confused expression once he thought about it. Why was he responding to the name that was not his own? It was so strange.

The kid paused when he saw Izuku's face and frowned harder. "YOU AIN'T WHO I THOUGHT YOU WERE, BUT REMEMBER THAT I DON'T OWE YA NOTHIN'! CAPISCE? I WOULDA GOTTEN OUTTA THAT DAMN VILLAIN MYSELF! NEEDED NO HELP FROM YA!"

Izuku merely shrugged and continued on his way. Injured pride wasn't on his to-fix list for the day. Ordinarily, he might have apologised or something, but he was about five breakdowns and one Quirk past the point of 'normal'.

The blonde chihuahua (get it? Always loud and seems to thrive on human souls? No? sad) seemed to feel that he had a hard day and moved on his own way. His mutterings were almost loud enough for Izuku to catch, and he was over a street away.

And then he got waylaid on his way again. This time by someone whom he refused to disrespect, even in the state he was in.

All Might himself. Who tried to say something when Izuku asked him how he managed to get out of the flood of reporters, only to spout a fountain of blood and deflate into his 'Normal' form.

What he said managed to break through whatever mental barriers Izuku had managed to set up, allowing him to have his very, very long overdue breakdown.

"You, young Midoriya Izuku, can too become a Hero! A Hero who can save people with a smile on his face!"

After an embarrassingly long time crying on a very awkward All Might's torso, (Izuku was much too short to reach his shoulder) a very mortified Midoriya Izuku was quietly walking to his home with a concerned and self-deprecating All Might ("It is my responsibility you ended up in this state young man, it was the height of folly on my behalf") when All Might asked him why exactly he ran towards the Villain.

"It… just sorta happened, I guess? My feet were carrying me towards the hostage before I could think about it. It was like my body-"

"Moved before your mind could catch up?" All Might finished for Izuku, sounding… approving?

"Yes? I know it was very reckless and stupid for me to do that, but-"

"On the contrary, young man. Every great hero has a tale from their youth, a tale where they moved before they could think for the welfare of another. You inspired me to move past my limits. You had managed to do what the Number One Hero could not, young man. That is why I believe you are worthy to inherit my power and grow greater than I could ever be!"

Izuku felt his heart leaping at the words his idol was saying, tears freely falling from his eyes unhindered, but he doubted his ears when he heard the last sentence.

"Wait, what?"

"I want you to inherit my power and grow to be a greater hero than I could ever become, for I believe you to be a worthy successor!"

Izuku, who had waaaaaaaaay too much shit that day, had the presence of mind to rattle out his address to the emaciated blonde, say "Thank you very much, I shall accept when I am up tomorrow, or the day after," and promptly pass out.

Izuku did indeed wake up two days later. When he woke up, he had figured out his new Quirk, or rather, his Quirk had given him its footnotes, and went to Dagobah Municipal Beach, where he eventually accepted All Might's offer.

This is Midoriya Izuku's story.

But whatever happens to the parts of a tale that would much rather be left untold?

"Kacchan… Hate you… Power. I. Need. Power."

When all hope is lost, everything would seem to reflect the darkness. Darkness that would only twist, grow and change what was once pure to a pale, dark reflection of itself. Darkness is but the absence of light, but the absence of something simply makes it all the scarier.

For in the void left in the absence, what once was could never be again.

Ahem, hello there! Author here! I'm new to FF so please forgive me! I have ten chaps written out, 40,000 in content in all. Hopefully you'll enjoy! Here's my discord! Boop- /cuYSXesV5j

This story's gonna be a blast! Hope you enjoy reading this as much as I do writing it!