The rooftop wind whipped at my face, carrying the echoes of Katsuki's words. "Take a swan dive off the roof and hope for a quirk in the next life!" The venom in his voice stung more than any physical blow. Useless. Powerless. That's all I ever was in his eyes, and maybe, just maybe, he was right.
My feet moved automatically, carrying me home, but the familiar streets felt alien now, draped in a suffocating grey. The silence in our small apartment was deafening. "Mom?" I called out, my voice thin and reedy. No answer. A note lay on the kitchen table, stark white against the worn linoleum. My hands trembled as I unfolded it.
A ransom note. Mom, my only anchor, had been taken.
Panic clawed at my throat, but it quickly dissolved into a cold, hollow numbness. I felt emptied out, like a puppet with its strings cut. I stumbled out of the apartment, the note crumpled in my fist, and started walking. I didn't know where I was going, only that I needed to escape the suffocating reality that had become my life.
That's when I saw him. All Might. Towering, beaming, the symbol of peace himself. Hope, long dormant, flickered within me. I had to ask.
I pushed through the gathering crowd, my heart hammering against my ribs. "All Might! Please, wait!"
He stopped, turning his blinding smile towards me. "Young man! Is there something I can do for you?"
I swallowed hard, gathering my courage. "Can… can someone without a quirk become a hero?"
The smile faltered, ever so slightly. "Without a quirk? Young man… I'm afraid that's not possible. It's too dangerous. A hero must be able to protect themselves and others."
His words were a knockout blow. The last ember of hope was extinguished. Even All Might, the man I admired more than anyone, was telling me I was worthless.
The world had already beaten me down to the dust, and now my idol was stomping on my remains.
I didn't say anything. I just turned and walked away, the weight of his words crushing me.
That night, I didn't sleep. I stared at the ceiling, the shadows playing tricks on my weary eyes. The world wasn't going to offer me any chances. If I wanted a future, I had to forge it myself.
The next morning, I withdrew all the money I could from our account. It wasn't much, but it was enough for a one-way ticket to America.
I left a note for the police about my mother, hoping against hope they would find her. Then, I left Japan, leaving behind the crushing weight of expectations and disappointments.
America was a sensory overload – loud, brash, and vibrant. I was a ghost in a new world, but with each passing day, I started to rebuild myself. I enrolled in self-defense classes, pushing my body to its limits. I devoured books on strategy, tactics, and law. I learned to fight, to think, to survive.
And then I met her.
Stars and Stripes, the number one hero in America. She saw something in me, a raw determination that reminded her of her younger self. She took me under her wing, training me not just in combat but in leadership. She taught me how to harness my intellect, how to use my weaknesses as strengths.
She told me, "Power isn't just about quirks, Izuku. It's about will, it's about strategy, and it's about the people you surround yourself with."
Under her guidance, I flourished. I learned to control my fear, to channel my anger into focus. I built a network of contacts, people who believed in me, people who were willing to fight alongside me.
By the time I was seventeen, I had formed my own team. They were a diverse group, each with their own unique skills and backgrounds. They were loyal, dedicated, and willing to lay down their lives for me. They weren't heroes, not in the traditional sense. We operated in the shadows, cleaning up the messes the heroes couldn't or wouldn't touch.
I became a force to be reckoned with, a silent hand in the underworld. I wasn't a villain, but I wasn't afraid to kill when necessary. I took down gangs, exposed corrupt officials, and dismantled illegal operations that preyed on the weak. I became a mafia leader, a puppet master pulling the strings, a dark avenger dispensing justice where the light couldn't reach.
Four years later, I was twenty-one. The boy who had been told he was worthless was long gone, replaced by a man forged in the fires of hardship and ambition. I was stronger, smarter, and more ruthless than I ever thought possible.
It was time to go home.
Japan had changed in my absence. The skyline was taller, the streets more crowded, the heroes more complacent. The news was filled with stories of rising crime, of villains slipping through the cracks, of a system struggling to maintain order.
I returned under the guise of a businessman, investing in various ventures, building a new network of contacts. But my real purpose was to observe, to analyze, to prepare.
One night, I was on a mission. A human trafficking ring was operating out of a warehouse on the docks. My team and I moved in silently, dispatching the guards with brutal efficiency. We freed the victims, offered them sanctuary, and left a message for the authorities – a bloody warning.
As I turned to leave, a familiar voice shattered the night.
"Deku?"
I froze. Time seemed to slow to a crawl. I turned slowly, my hand instinctively reaching for the gun holstered at my side.
Standing in the doorway, bathed in the flickering neon light, was Katsuki Bakugo. He was taller, broader, a hero's uniform clinging to his muscular frame. His crimson eyes widened in disbelief.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he barked, his voice laced with suspicion.
I took a deep breath, trying to control the surge of emotions that threatened to overwhelm me. Years of training had taught me to mask my feelings, to present a cold, impassive façade.
"Just cleaning up your mess, Bakugo," I said, my voice flat and devoid of emotion.
He scowled. "My mess? These are villains, Deku! This is hero work!"
"Is it?" I countered, raising an eyebrow. "Or is it just sweeping the dirt under the rug? You arrest them, they get a slap on the wrist, and then they're back on the streets, terrorizing the innocent. I offer a more… permanent solution."
His eyes narrowed. "You're killing them?"
"I'm preventing them from hurting anyone else," I said, my voice hardening. "Something you seem incapable of doing."
He took a step forward, his fists clenched. "You're a vigilante, Deku! You're breaking the law!"
"The law?" I scoffed. "The same law that failed to protect my mother? The same law that allows scumbags like these to operate with impunity? I'm not bound by your laws, Bakugo. I make my own."
The silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken words and years of resentment. I saw a flicker of confusion in his eyes, a hint of the boy I used to know. But it quickly vanished, replaced by the familiar arrogance and aggression.
"You always were a loser, Deku," he sneered. "Trying to play hero without a quirk. It's pathetic."
My grip tightened on my gun. He hadn't changed. He still saw me as the weak, useless Deku he used to torment.
"I'm not trying to be a hero, Bakugo," I said, my voice dangerously low. "I'm trying to make a difference. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes, even if it means getting my hands dirty."
He lunged at me, a roar erupting from his throat. "I'll stop you, Deku! I'll bring you down!"
I sidestepped his attack, my reflexes honed by years of training. The fight was on.
We traded blows, a whirlwind of fists and explosions. He was strong, powerful, but I was faster, more agile. I anticipated his moves, countered his attacks, exploiting the gaps in his defense.
The fight was a blur, a dance of rage and resentment. We were evenly matched, our strengths and weaknesses mirroring each other.
But something had changed within me. The need for revenge, the burning desire to prove myself, had faded. As I looked at Bakugo, his face contorted with anger, I didn't see an enemy. I saw a broken boy, trapped by his own arrogance and insecurity.
I disengaged, creating some distance between us.
"This doesn't have to be this way, Katsuki," I said, my voice surprisingly calm.
He stopped, panting heavily, his eyes fixed on me. "What are you talking about, Deku?"
"We don't have to be enemies," I said. "We can use our strengths to make this city a better place. You can be the hero who saves the day, and I can be the one who cleans up the mess you leave behind."
He stared at me, dumbfounded. "You're crazy, Deku! You think I'd ever work with you?"
I shrugged. "It's your choice, Katsuki. But I know there's still some good in you. Don't let your pride blind you."
I turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, alone in the darkness.
As I disappeared into the shadows, I knew that our paths would cross again. Whether we would be allies or enemies remained to be seen. But one thing was certain: Izuku Midoriya was no longer the boy who had been told to take a swan dive off the roof. He was a force to be reckoned with, a dark angel watching over the city, and he wouldn't hesitate to do whatever it took to protect the innocent, even if it meant walking a path that was far from heroic. The future, as always, remained unwritten.