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Biocide

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Izuku’s world felt empty, and it all started when he was four.

Midoriya Izuku was an intelligent child. He learnt how to read and write way before other kids did, and he had a strong passion for heroes. He loved to help people, and despite only being a toddler, everyone knew Izuku was selfless. The little child had everything you had to have to be a hero.

 

Except a quirk.

 

Soon after the doctors told him he was quirkless, his father lost all interest on his own son. Not long after, he was gone, taking Izuku’s dream to become a hero with him. He left without a warning, leaving Inko with long months of struggle and suffering just to provide enough income for her son to have a proper education. Their life wasn’t pretty. It was far from easy too.

Inko felt helpless – she gave birth to an aberration, after all – but he was a child. The kid didn’t want to be like this. It wasn’t his choice. She couldn’t stop herself from not feeling love towards her own son. She knew she was being selfish, but he took everything away from her, and nothing was ever going to be the same again.

She pushed the hatred to the side, and kept going.

 

Izuku knew his mom didn’t love him. It was confusing, at first, how his mother would reject his hugs. How he wouldn’t get good night kisses anymore. How his mother slowly started to ignore him, like he didn’t exist. Midoriya would soon realise that she stopped being his mother a long time ago, when his father left. Because of him.

But Izuku kept going too, dreams crushed, heart broken.

 

School wasn’t any better either, as being quirkless wasn’t exactly a thing to be proud of in this unfair world. Your role in society was dictated by your quirk, after all. The fortunate children with powerful or useful quirks became lawyers, doctors, heroes. Having a weak quirk or being quirkless meant you were going to spend the rest of your days being useless. And everyone in school seemed to love to remind Izuku about it every single day.

 

Midoriya found himself in a loop.

Wake up, go to school, get beaten up, go home, sleep.

 

He became numb to pain. It was strange, the first time he realised it. He felt the usual metallic taste in his mouth from a punch he just received, and he felt his burns heat up from the warmth of the summer, but the pain didn’t come. It felt more like a soft tug, similar to someone gently waking you up from a dreamless sleep.

 

It felt nice.

He didn’t think much of it, and just thanked whatever god was out there for this blessing. He didn’t realise something that he would soon regret not perceiving.

 

He continued his day, unaware of what happened. Despite having lost his interest on becoming a hero, Izuku was always keen on helping others. He tried to help everyone, whether it was carrying groceries for an old lady, or rescuing a cat from a tree. He felt joy when helping others, and the kid always left like he had done something useful.

He was wandering the streets, with no desire of coming back home this early. He could go to the library – and probably receive some kind of pastry from the librarian, that woman loved him – but he didn’t feel like making excuses for his recently bruised arms, so he slowly walked to Dagobah beach. Although in Izuku’s opinion, it could be renamed as “Dagobah junk yard” because seriously, was that beach ever clean?

He sat down on top of a car, as he watched the sun slowly go down, filling the sky with pink and orange tones. He had to go soon.

The walk home was peaceful, without having to think much about how to get home since he knew the path by hearth. He arrived home, knowing his mother wouldn’t be here until at least nine, and he suddenly felt exhausted. Letting his body fall into the sofa, he closed his eyes, falling asleep.

 

He abandoned his light sleep when he heard a piercing scream next to him, accompanied by sirens, and the metallic but slightly sweet scent of blood.

 The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was the body of his mother on the floor, bleeding out. He was far from being an expert but that was too much blood. The wounds, that were round and deep, were distributed all around her arms and legs, pouring blood at an alarming rate. She was conscious, looking at her son with wide eyes, tears unable to come out due to the shock.

 

Izuku wouldn’t realize at that moment, his mind foggy from all the screaming and shouting while the paramedics tried to keep her alive that something unexplainable had happened during his sleep.

 

Izuku wouldn’t know that the bleeding stopped just as easily as the bleeding began the moment he touched his mother’s hands, desperate for someone to help her.

 

Izuku would realize, after his mother died, that he was the cause of her death.

 

The doctors were right, Izuku didn’t have a quirk.

 

He had a curse.