Summary: In which Kozato Enma wakes up as one Midoriya Inko. (And others, too.)
“Oww, my head,” Enma muttered as he reaches out to the back of his head. He winced at even the slightest touch. “What hit me?” He looked around and spotted an open cabinet door and a frying pan on the floor. Ah.
He blinked at his surroundings.
“Wait, this isn’t my house.”
He caught a glimpse of his reflection from the window. Instead of seeing a red-haired, red-eyed man in his thirties, he saw a green-haired, green-eyed woman in her thirties.
“That’s not my face, either.”
So he was in the body of a woman named Midoriya Inko. She was a typical Japanese housewife married to a typical Japanese salaryman living in a typical Japanese neighborhood, with the exception that people in this world were born with supernatural abilities called Quirks.
Inko’s ability was the attraction of small objects. Much to his delight, it was simply a part of his actual powers, which mirrored the property of his flames. From what he gathered, Inko always had the potential to do more with her quirk but never actively exercised it, thus the limited application.
She and her husband also have one son named Izuku, and unlike most, he was born quirkless. Enma wondered if flames still existed and if he could get Izuku to unlock them.
At least he kept the iconic Simon trait of compass-patterned pupils.
“I’m home!”
Enma wracked Inko’s memories to put a name to a voice. This must be her husband, Hisashi. He took a deep breath, forced himself to act casual, and prayed to the heavens that Inko’s husband would not find anything suspicious.
Once he heard footsteps to the dining room, he turned around to greet him. “Welcome bac-”
He froze. He knew those eyes anywhere.
Orange pupils gazed back in shock.
“Tsuna-kun?!”
“Enma-kun?!”
“This is awkward.”
The pair had settled for drinking tea to talk. Hisashi, or Tsuna, scratched his cheek, looking a bit lost. Enma couldn’t blame him; he felt a bit lost, too. Having a family is one thing, but having your friend from a past life as a wife - or is it husband since he technically still considered himself a male? - was another.
(Apparently, Inko never even had the Simon pupils up until Enma awakened. It was the same with Tsuna, who never had orange eyes until he regained his memories.)
Enma nodded in agreement. “You said it. Who knew we’d end up married, though.” He placed down his cup of tea. “How long have you been here?”
Tsuna hummed into his own cup before answering. “I think about a decade or so? I’m not really sure since I wasn’t counting in the first place. I probably would’ve freaked out more if Reborn didn’t drill it to my head to be extremely adaptable at all times.” He snorted, thinking of the hitman’s numerous horrific training sessions. “Frankly, I’m surprised you didn’t freak out yet when you’ve only been here for a few hours at most.”
He shrugged. “With everything we’ve seen from magical fire to two-hundred year-old vengeful ghosts and living zombies, I’m pretty sure nothing can faze us anymore.”
“True.”
The awkward atmosphere returned as their talk ended.
“So, is there anyone else who arrived aside from us?”
“Well...”
The next day, Tsuna invited a particular couple over for lunch.
“YOU BASTARD, HOW DARE YOU MARRY JUUDAIME!”
“Dear, please calm down...!”
Enma looked on as Bakugou Mitsuki, or Gokudera, raged on while his (her?) husband held him back. Masaru gave them an uneasy grin. They were grateful that the kids weren’t around to see this. Katsuki was already on his way to developing the mouth of a sailor and nobody wanted that, including the influencer himself. Izuku didn’t cuss, but you never know with friends like that.
Tsuna said that Gokudera arrived only a year ago. From what Enma learned from Inko, Mitsuki and Hisashi were childhood friends, and even though she never expressed any interest, the former seemed to dislike Hisashi’s wife from the get-go. Maybe because Gokudera, without awakening, instinctively knew who Inko really was? He wasn’t sure.
Tsuna sighed loudly before placing a hand on Gokudera’s shoulder. “Mitsuki.”
Gokudera reluctantly gave up on trying to attack him, but continued to glower from his place. “Che.”
Having softer and effeminate features made Tsuna’s Storm Guardian a lot less intimidating, but he wasn’t going to say that to his face. Being uninjured was better than even the slightest scratch, after all.
The Storm still disapproved that he was married to Tsuna similar to a father who didn’t want to give his daughter away, but didn’t protest any further, especially when Masaru was around. It probably helped that the man was like the male version of Gokudera’s wife, and wasn’t anyone they knew from their past lives.
He was thankful that Gokudera’s quirk had nothing to do with explosions.
Enma often wondered if there was anyone from his Famiglia out there. Having a friend was nice and all, but having one of his Guardians in this world would be nice.
He was wrong. He was very, very wrong.
He loved Julie like a brother, but he’d rather not witness this, thank you very much. Both he and Tsuna shuddered as Julie preened at the attention that his hero costume garnered. It wasn’t like he was ugly or anything, but knowing the person behind the face really put things into a slightly disturbing perspective.
Whose idea was it to reincarnate him as someone like Midnight?
I love KHR and have also been a fan of BNHA even before the anime came out. Since I haven’t written anything in a long time, I thought “hey, why not give it a try again?” So I brainstormed on what plot it should have.
Both Tsuna and Izuku are my favorite characters in their respective series, but I have a better grasp on writing Tsuna so I decided to focus on him.
This story is basically Tsuna gets stranded in another world -> becomes homeless. WIP title is Aimless but might change once I finish it. (maybe call it Homeless!Tsuna AU for now idk)
I’m actually 5k+ words into it and decided to share a preview.
Attracting chaos must be Tsuna's special talent.
He always thought of himself as an average person, but ever since Reborn came to his life, all the powers that be in the universe have somehow conspired together to keep throwing him in every bullshit situation possible.
Or more specifically, how he ended up in a different world and somehow turned their society on its head.
(By accident, to boot.)
Being homeless was hard.
They faced prejudice every single day. Not a lot of people were willing to help them, and at times, the government would ignore their plights, too. Some belittled and treated them as a lesser species— comparable to a stain on society that's no better than a villain. They thought that all were drunkards or drug addicts.
The worst part of it was being vulnerable and helpless to criminals. There were a handful who could defend themselves, but the rest can't. Small-time thieves see them as easy prey. Delinquents see them as a convenient punching bag. To top it all off, fellow vagrants who turned to crimes harassed them as well.
Tsuna was used to having a roof over his head and three meals a day; he had to adapt if he wanted to survive. Like any other homeless, he had nothing but the clothes on his back— no money, no place to stay, and no credentials. He resorted to begging, scavenging, and sleeping in numerous spots such as bus stops and behind the dumpsters because Japan had no homeless shelters.
Seeking help from the police would only land him in the foster care system, although many there never get adopted and after reaching their age of majority, often end up as homeless themselves.
Living in the streets was more dangerous than usual, because it was just Tsuna's luck to get stranded in a world of superhumans. Criminals were formidable enough on their own; what more when you give them superpowers?
Dammit, Kawahira.
It was all his fault, really. One moment, the man was saying something about his new destiny after rejecting the Vongola boss position and the next, Tsuna found himself standing in the back of a rundown building, with not a single hint on what he had to do.
The brunet was relieved that until now, he has his intuition to guide him. If it were gone, he would have long been wasted in the streets. He's had a few close calls as proof— from almost encountering a mugger to a group of thugs who were prowling the city at night.
Unfortunately for him, it's also his intuition that led him to various kinds of trouble.
It went like this: Tsuna was on his way to the park where he usually slept.
He was grateful that he got a surgical mask and a (terrible, puke-colored) scarf from a nice old lady that morning for it was a chilly night. Normally, he wandered the streets past midnight in case he might be taken in for loitering, but the local police stopped their night patrol ahead of schedule.
Of course, that much luck had to be countered by an unfortunate chain of events, because Tsuna was simply that unlucky.
A few blocks away from the park, Tsuna's intuition tingled. He didn't know why it wanted him to hurry, but he learned long ago not to oppose it. Sometimes, it was blatant (avoiding a chance encounter with dangerous people) and others, it made him do illogical things (staying put in one spot for hours). Most of the time, it merely made him hyperaware to the point that he could tell what someone ate for their breakfast.
In all honesty, it's a bit disturbing; but it has yet to lead him astray.
Tsuna immediately heard the familiar click of a gun and terrified gasps, and he felt his stomach drop.
He discreetly turned around a corner and hid behind a dumpster. Tsuna's eyes roamed the scene until he spotted a man blocking the path of a woman and presumably, her child. The mother and daughter pair were shivering out of fear and the cold, whilst the man had a foreboding grin on his face as he commanded them to hand over their valuables.
It was akin to a scene from a TV show or a movie; the man was robbing them at gunpoint in the middle of the street, paying no mind to any spectators. Tsuna himself caught a glimpse of a few witnesses in the distance; one was even hastily grabbing their phone from their bag. With that, he reckoned that the police would come to investigate soon.
The wisest course of action is to walk away. He was homeless for crying out loud— he didn't want to get involved with more trouble. Report the crime and give a statement once the commotion has died off. From what he could tell, the mugger will be able to get away before the police could arrive. But then he saw the unadulterated fear on both victims' faces and the mugger has not yet noticed anyone else—
Tsuna, for all his compassion and bleeding heart, was not a wise person. Moreover, Fuuta even ranked him as number one amongst those who can't refuse requests and ignore people in need.
If this was back at home, he would have exercised more caution lest he wanted to attract unwanted attention; but since this was a superhuman society, he figured it wouldn't hurt to use and reveal his Flames.
(He wrapped the scarf around his head to cover his hair and cast a shadow over his eyes just in case, though.)
"I'm probably going to regret this."
Tsuna then took a deep breath to steel himself for the reckless stunt he was about to pull off.
With one swift kick, Tsuna swept the man's legs and the mugger fell. In fact, he didn't even need to use his Flames. They were fortunate that when the man accidentally pulled the trigger, nobody got shot (although it did elicit horrified screams from both the victims and the witnesses). Somehow, the mugger must've hit his head on the ground, because he was already unconscious the moment Tsuna looked over him when he didn't move.
Well, that was anticlimactic.
Everyone remained gaping at him. Although, who could blame them? It's not every day that you'd see a short boy come out of nowhere and knock a mugger off his feet.
The woman wouldn't stop bowing and thanking him. Tsuna blushed at her praise and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. He didn't expect it to go so smoothly, but all's well that ends well, he supposed.
"Thanks, mister!" The little girl had stars in her eyes as she looked at him. "Are you a hero?"
Tsuna gave her an awkward smile— not that she could see with the mask covering it up. "Um, not really. I was just... you know, passing by."
"Really?" She furrowed her eyebrows, clearly not believing him. "You look like one."
The brunet looked down at his outfit. He didn't see anything peculiar about it — it was nothing but a plain hoodie and pants — not an attire that screams 'HERO!'. When he voiced his confusion, the girl pointed at the scarf wrapped around his head and the surgical mask on his face.
"You're hiding your face and you have that scarf. Only heroes would have secret identities and wear those clothes."
He points at the scarf. "It's just an old ugly scarf."
"It is," The girl nods at him. Tsuna was a bit offended on how quick she was to agree with him. I mean, it was unsightly, yet he's wearing it anyway. "But if it's your hero costume, then it doesn't have to be pretty." Point taken. The brunet would have said more if arguing with a child wasn't fruitless.
The mother finally stopped bowing. "I don't know how I can ever repay you, young man."
"No, it's fine. I didn't do this for a reward. You don't need a reason to help others!" He spluttered. "Anyways, I'm going to uh, go home or something," Tsuna mumbled. It was still a good hour before midnight, but he inferred that it's about time to go on his way and get an extra hour of sleep in the park until morning patrol the next day. Besides, once the police come, they'd reprimand him for his stunt and he was too exhausted to deal with that.
When he was walking away, the mother called out to him. "By the way, what's your name? We'd at least like to know the brave young man who saved us!"
He waved his hand in dismissal. "Don't worry about it."
This was the fic I was talking about here and here. Yes, finally, the Hisashi-centric crossover has arrived.
I finished this while hungry and sleepy, so pardon any incoherence regarding the plot. I might rewrite/add some things. Maybe. Not guaranteed.
Summary: Midoriya Hisashi was pretty sure his quirk was breathing fire, so why does he keep seeing things no one else could?
Hisashi didn't even notice it.
He was simply walking home when an old lady approached him. Silver hair from old age was put into a bun, whilst a wrinkled face with twinkling gray eyes and a kind smile greeted him. She had a tiny star-shaped mark on the left side of her bottom lip. Much to his distaste, she wore a bright, gaudy, sequined pink dress.
"Oh, Hisashi, where have you been?" She asked. "Your mother's been looking for you."
"My mother?" Who is this lady? The young man was slightly weirded out. This old woman straight up came to him without warning, telling him about his mom. He didn't even know her, so why was she acting so unreserved towards him?
"Yes, she's waiting for you. Her boss dismissed them early today," The old lady then brought out something from her equally bright pink purse. "I just bought some snacks. Here, have some. I'm sure you're pretty hungry from baseball practice, right?"
As if on cue, his stomach grumbled. Hisashi blushed lightly as the old woman tittered. Hesitantly, he slowly reached for the umaibo, trying to gauge the lady's reaction. Seeing no malice in her expression, he took the snack and pocketed it. "I'll eat it at home. Thanks."
She waved at him. "Well, I've got to go to the market now. Tell your mother I might take long; these old bones don't work the way they used to, you know?"
He nodded. "Right."
She was highly suspicious, but she didn't seem to have any ulterior motives.
What a weird old lady.
Once he got home, Hisashi indeed saw his mother, like the old lady said; which was unusual considering that she always went home at god awful hours in the evening due to her work. "Oh, you're home. Hey," He greeted.
"Hey, sport," She greeted back. "My boss had to cancel today's work because of an emergency, so here I am."
He then decided to ask his mother about the overly-friendly woman. "Hey, mom, do you know any old ladies in the neighborhood?" Because as far as he knew, she was too busy to make friends with the neighbors because of work.
His mother furrowed his eyebrows, gray eyes narrowing in suspicion. He vaguely noted that she and the old woman had similar eye colors. "No, I don't. Why'd you ask?"
"I just met this old lady saying that you're already home and that you were waiting for me?" He rubbed the back of his head. "She also said to tell you she'd take long on her trip to the market."
She pursed her lips. "No, I don't. I wasn't expecting a guest and your father won't come back from his business trip until next week so I know he didn't invite anyone, either. What does she look like?"
Hisashi felt his stomach drop at the implications. Did they have a stalker? "Um, she's old and wore this really ugly dress? Wrinkly face, too." What was the most memorable thing about her face? He crossed his arms in thought before snapping his fingers. Oh, right. He pointed at the bottommost part of his face. "And she had this tiny mark at the side of her mouth? It was weird. She was weird."
His mother rapidly paled as he described the lady. With shaky hands, she grasped her son's. "Dear, does this lady have gray eyes like me?"
"Oh, right. She does." It's not just the color – they have the same shade of eyes, too.
Her grip on his hands tightened. "And is the mark on her face... star-shaped?"
Hisashi nodded vigorously. So his mother did know this person. What a relief! They don't have a stalker, after all. "Yeah! I've never seen anyone with a face mark like that. Is it a tattoo or something?"
Hisashi yelped as she released his hands and slowly skidded to the floor. Her face was contorted in shock and blank gray eyes stared downwards, hands firmly curled into fists. In a split second, his mom had gone from "I sense a suspicious person" into a completely lifeless mess.
Suffice to say, he panicked. "Mom! Mom, what's wrong?!" Hisashi grabbed her and repeatedly shook her shoulders. She didn't respond. "Hey, listen to me! Say something!"
It wasn't until after a few more seconds that his mother snapped out of her stupor and recomposed herself. In an instant, she wrapped her arms around him into a tense embrace. His mother began to cry.
"She... even now, she's still watching over us..."
"Who is she, mom? Why are you so upset?"
His mother just continued to hug him for another minute or two before letting go. Wiping her tears, she gave him a melancholic smile.
Hisashi felt a shiver down his spine when she finally answered him.
"That was your grandmother. She passed away long before you were even born."
The second time it happened, Hisashi remained none the wiser until after the encounter.
He was visiting a bookstore for his school project. They were tasked to make a book report comparing light novels to your regular novels. Unfortunately, neither the school nor the local library had a light novel section; the closest thing was an entire shelf assigned to foreign comic books and manga.
Honestly, he didn't have high hopes for his project. Most of the light novels the bookstore had were of the isekai genre, wherein the protagonist is from the modern world who suddenly gets transported or reincarnated into a fantasy world. However, with the emergence of quirks and the rise of the hero system, this certain genre has become stagnant. Rarely did such light novels not include a protagonist with a useless quirk or a quirkless person altogether.
It wasn't something he was particularly interested in, because most of those light novels were wish-fulfillment given literary form. But he would be lying if he wasn't intrigued by the idea of alternate dimensions- that's kinda cool.
He grumbled as he spied another row dedicated only to harem and loli-centric works. Is this really all they have? The most different one he found was something about gore and magical girls, but it was so old and worn out that he couldn't even read the kanji anymore.
He then felt a tap on his shoulder.
"Excuse me, young man. Do you know where the manager's office is?" It was a girl around a few years older than him, maybe in university or something. He spotted the book held in her other hand. "The cashier is missing and I didn't see anyone else, so..."
Hisashi inwardly groaned. This always happened. The owner was nice and accommodating, but he kept on hiring slackers who wouldn't do their jobs properly. Might as well call the old man. I should ask if he has other light novels, too.
He beckoned at her to follow. They encircled around the shelves at the back before stopping in front of a metal door. He knocked and called out to the owner, "Hey, old man. It's Hisashi! The clerk's gone again and you have a customer to attend to!"
"Will be right there in a jiffy, sonny! Just let me– oof!" They heard a loud crash from the other side. The teen winced. That sounded like it hurts a lot.
"Does this happen often?" She meekly inquired. He simply closed his eyes and nodded.
He then knocked again. "You okay in there?"
"I'm fine. Nothing's broken this time, too, so it's all good!"
"You should really be more careful! What if you bang your head or something?"
"I've been doing these for decades, boy. If I was accident-prone, I would have been long dead by now." The door swung open as the owner peered from his room. "So what did you want again?"
Hisashi gestured to the girl behind him. "You have a customer. She wants to pay but your cashier's off to who knows where."
The owner scratched his head, confusion evident in his features. "Who're you talking about? There's no one there." The teen's eyes widened before he turned around. Indeed, the girl was missing. "You sure you didn't hallucinate or something, boy?"
"B-But she was just here a-a-and she was even going to buy a dictionary or something–!"
The old man simply patted him on the back. "You gotta get a proper amount of sleep. I know you're a baseball nut and all, but that's not an excuse to skip out on rest."
"No, seriously, she was here! She even talked to me while I was knocking on your door! I'm not lying!"
"Then she must've left when you weren't looking."
Later that day, the owner asked his cashier who was apparently lounging in another area of the store if he had seen anyone. The employee denied it, saying that other than Hisashi, no one else came that hour. It was why he decided to read some manga to cure his boredom.
Hisashi's blood ran cold when they reviewed the security cameras. All this time, he had been alone and was talking to thin air.
What the hell is going on?
This continued for more encounters. In some cases, he would immediately realize that he was seeing things no one else could. In others, he never noticed that he was talking with someone who didn't exist until afterwards. Not to mention that his surroundings felt like they were burning him during these encounters.
Frankly, it was creepy, and it was taking a toll on him. He was getting stressed out real fast.
If no one else perceive them, Hisashi simply concluded that he must be seeing ghosts. He was pretty sure that breathing fire was his quirk, so why was this happening to him? He even went to a quirk specialist who told him that his ability didn't change. His friends were starting to worry. His parents were starting to worry. He was starting to worry.
Fire breathing definitely had nothing to do with seeing things so what's wrong with him?
Hisashi didn't understand.
To make matters worse, he began to see them everywhere – at school, during baseball practice in the field, out in the streets, and other places he went to. It even escalated to the point that he was hallucinating places now.
Sometimes, he'd enter an establishment to buy something and subsequently realizing it's not the same store. At times, when people ask him for directions, he'd point towards a specific building as a landmark and people would end up confused because they're not seeing what he can.
This entire mess was frustrating him.
He met a peculiar guy.
Initially, he merely saw him around the vicinity. Sometimes, it was when he was hanging out with his friends. Sometimes, it was on his way home. In other times, it was during his errand runs. Hisashi thought that he must be a new neighbor, but after asking his mother and the other residents, they didn't know anything about a mover.
Surely, a boy around his age with bright green hair would be eye-catching, right?
Not.
No one knew where he came from. Hisashi presumed that he was a ghost, but he was too corporeal to be one, nor did he try to communicate with him like the other ghosts.
Then who was he?
It didn't take long before he encountered the green-haired kid properly.
It was during his walk in the beach park when the other appeared out of nowhere. Startled, Hisashi tripped over his own feet and fell face first to the ground. The other helped him up and dusted sand off his clothes, encircling him. Satisfied with what he saw, he clasped Hisashi's shoulder.
"So you're the one," The green-haired kid said. "I wasn't sure because you weren't reacting at all. But then, you were always around whenever I appeared."
Hisashi was taken aback by his sudden approach. "I'm the what?"
He smiled as if inwardly laughing at a joke. "The chosen of this world, silly!"
The teen scratched his head. What the hell was this guy talking about? Was this guy some sort of chuunibyou? "Um, 'chosen'? What do you mean?" Perhaps insane?
"Figures you wouldn't notice anything. This is a world of superpowers, after all." The green-haired teen huffed and crossed his arms. "Tell me, have you been seeing weird things lately?"
That was spot-on! Hisashi whipped his head to meet the other's eyes and saw his smile widening. "H-How did you–"
"That's because I'm the same as you. We see things that we aren't meant to see." He began to pace around with his hands behind his back. "While everyone else is limited to the world we live in, we are different. We see beyond that; beyond our own existence."
The green-haired teen stopped in front of him, with the glares of the sun shining from behind. It made his hair shine like a halo and his entire body ethereal. Hisashi felt as if he was staring at something otherworldly.
"What do you know about parallel worlds?"
Haku was his name.
He claimed to be from another world, and that he had been trying to contact Hisashi for a long time now. In his world, there were no quirks – instead, there were Dying Will Flames, the manifestation of a person's will and determination.
According to his new friend, there are a limitless number of worlds that exist, and each world has an infinite amount of parallels. However, one thing that doesn't change in every world are the three absolute powers: the power to connect to the past, the power to perceive the present, and the power to predict the future.
For each world, there is one person who possesses an absolute power. He, Haku, and countless others were born with the ability to perceive the present; the power to see and occasionally, cross parallel worlds. The people and places that don't exist were indeed from parallel worlds. His ability had awakened for the first time and since he's never used it before, it was out of his control.
(All of this sounded so familiar, though. It's as if he's experienced this before.)
"Why are you helping me?"
"Because I had no one to help me when I was in your shoes." Haku looked pensive, as if remembering a particularly bad memory. "Not to mention that you can somehow mingle with people from parallel worlds without any prior training. I don't know how you did it, but it should be impossible to interact with others without any sort of conduit to channel your powers."
Hisashi pointed at him with a disgruntled face. "But aren't you crossing over yourself?"
"I'm not. You can only see me because I'm projecting myself to you, but if you want to be technical about it, we're communicating via telepathy."
T-Telepathy? "I thought people didn't have quirks there. Or is this an ability of your 'Flames'?" He said with matching air quotes. Haku made a vague gesture with his hand. "We may not have quirks, but we do have a superior technology."
Haku was a good friend.
He was a generous person who genuinely wanted to assist him, he could tell that much. He was truly grateful to the other teen that he was willing to go out on a limb for a someone he barely knew. Haku taught him how to control his powers so he wouldn’t keep confusing his world and another. He taught him how to regulate the visions so they would stop showing up randomly and interrupt his daily life.
(Oh, he couldn’t completely put a lid on it, but he was able to manage with what meager control he had over it.)
Because they were in similar positions, both were instantly able to relate to one another. They promptly clicked, like two pieces of a puzzle.
It was why Hisashi found it easy to open up to him. The green-haired boy served as his confidant throughout the years. He told him stories about his daily routine – what he did in his school, what he wanted to do with his life. He even went on to ask him for dating advice, and eventually, ideas on what to name his own child and how to be a proper parent.
But sometimes, when the other thought he wasn't looking, he saw something else.
Was Haku helping him only because he was lonely?
Hisashi finally recalled why his current experiences struck a chord within him.
This all happened, even back when he was still a kid; back before he even received his quirk.
Like any other child, Hisashi wanted to be a hero. Unfortunately, not everyone gets to have a chance to chase their dreams. Even though they live in a superhuman society, his family didn't have anything extraordinary. Both of his parents were quirkless, so were all their relatives before them – a rare phenomenon in this day and age.
Suffice to say, he had resigned himself to a mundane life ahead of him.
He went to an unremarkable school. He got mediocre grades. He didn't have an exceptional talent or boasted an impressive physical ability. He was just... there. Ask anyone and they'll give the same answer: that he was not someone meant for greatness, but a person meant for anonymity.
He would live as an ordinary person and die as one.
But all of a sudden, something different happened.
He had a peculiar dream filled with dread and weariness. There was nothing but darkness around him and he was all alone. In a flash of light, inexplicable warmth enveloped him as a figure gave him a gentle smile. Just as he was about to reach for this person, he woke up with his arm stretched towards the ceiling.
Hisashi felt the same warmth lingering in his room.
For the next few days, he would have the same dream. It wasn't anything bad, so the young boy did not tell anyone about them.
Not long after, he started to suffer from random hot flashes and nausea. Everything was spinning and he could barely stay conscious. He began to hallucinate, as well. Wherever he looked, his surroundings constantly changed and the people never noticed any difference, so he thought that he was simply ill or fatigued. However, Hisashi didn't want to trouble his parents in case it was just a false alarm.
It wasn't until he saw a bizarrely-dressed man that he admits to himself that there might be something wrong with him.
While he was walking home with his friends, he spotted said man across the street. He donned a mask and a trench coat. He also wore a checker-patterned iron hat with matching gloves. The eeriest part of him was the checker pattern on his own face. The teen scratched his head in puzzlement. Is he a hero or something?
Hisashi has never seen anyone like him before.
He nudges an elbow to his friend and gestures in the man's direction. "Hey, do you think that guy's a hero?"
"Hah, what are you talking about? No one's there."
Hisashi blinked and stared back at the other side. The man was still standing across the street. "Um, he's... just standing there? Don't you guys see him?"
His other shook his head in disagreement. "Man, we knew you weren't feeling well, but if you're starting to see things then maybe we should hurry home so you can rest."
"But–" He was about to add more, when he noted their concerned expressions. The teen sighed in exasperation, yet reluctantly backed down. No use arguing when he knew they were only worried for him.
As they walked away, Hisashi stuck his hands in his pockets and huffed. He was so sure that the man was real – there's no way he could be deluding himself! Then again, he briefly glanced at his friends who saw nothing, maybe I'm so tired that I'm imagining things.
He nodded at himself. Yeah, maybe they're right. I haven't had a decent night of sleep recently anyway.
Making up his mind, he snuck one last peek at the bizarre man again to make sure that the other really is not there. His eyes widened when the man smiled and waved at him.
Hisashi was officially spooked.
He started to lose sleep and eat less, neglecting to take proper care of himself. His cheeks began to sink and his eyes darkened. His previously healthy complexion turned pallor. He dozed off at random intervals. It wasn't until he collapsed that his parents found out and sent him to the hospital.
A week's worth of rest and medicine helped him recover, but they sent him to the therapists after confessing he'd been hallucinating.
None of the therapists could figure it out – "There should be nothing wrong with young Hisashi, yet he's still seeing things that aren't there." – and the counselors were of no assistance, either.
"Don't worry, Hisashi. I'm sure that there's someone who can help you," His mother said, trying to console him after another failed session with a new psychiatrist. Her pats on his back were comforting, yet he still felt awful for his current situation and all the trouble he was making them go through.
"...Do you think it could be his quirk?" His father whispered, features darkened and discouraged. Hisashi wasn't blind to how they were starting to look like him. His parents were stressed out by his predicament, too.
"That's impossible!" She slammed her fist on the table. Just like his father, she was equally burdened with the mysterious ailment of her son. Her hair was unkempt and her eyes dry from exhaustion. "We're both quirkless and our son has always been the same for a long time now."
His father snapped, "I'm not deluding myself that he could actually have a quirk, but there's nothing else we can think of. There's nothing wrong with trying!"
And with that, he was brought to the local quirk specialist.
"You should celebrate. Your son doesn't have an extra joint. Theoretically, this means he can develop a quirk," The doctor explained, pointing at an x-ray; particularly, at Hisashi's toes. "You are both quirkless, correct? It isn't unheard of for first generation quirk users to be late bloomers or to have dormant abilities."
"H-How is this possible, doctor?" Hisashi's mother exclaimed, with both his father and Hisashi himself nodding in agreement.
"It's not an absolute that quirkless people can't give birth to a new quirk. After all, the original quirk users did come from powerless families. There's really no guarantee on whether a child would have a special ability or not." The doctor was writing down something on his clipboard.
Hisashi wasn't paying attention to the man anymore. All he could focus on was the fact he has a quirk, after years of thinking he didn't have one.
"Since your son has been suffering from bouts of feverish heat, I believe that this is the reason for his hallucinations." The doctor laid an assuring hand on his shoulder, breaking his train of thoughts. "Young Hisashi will most likely have a fire or temperature-based ability."
True to the doctor's prediction, a few days later, Hisashi accidentally set a tree on fire – fire breath, the specialists inferred. His parents and friends celebrated the fact that he unlocked his special ability and he, too, hoped that it was the end of his problems.
It was.
After he continuously used his fire to stop himself from overheating, the dreams were gone and the world didn't feel like it was set on fire anymore.
Despite that, something was nagging at the back of his mind - that everyone was wrong, and that there's something more to it than just a quirk.
But if they stopped once, what brought it all back to the surface?
He confided in Haku, and the green-haired male didn't know the cause, either. Haku was surprised to hear that he could tap into this power as a child, when the other only awakened his in his pre-adolescent age.
Hisashi couldn't help but feel antsy at not knowing why. It simply remained a mystery. No matter what he or Haku did, they couldn’t figure it out. The issue began to gnaw away on his mind.
There was something deeply unnerving about it, like a calm before the storm.
Even then, the world goes on without a hitch.
Not long after, things went down the drain.
Hisashi tried to do his best as a father even with his current dilemma chipping down on his psyche. He still went to work diligently. He spent time with his wife and son. He did his best to be a pillar of support to the people around him.
However, regardless of his efforts to bury it inside, it stressed him out. And when he was stressed out, he lost what little control he had over his powers. Images of people’s lives from various worlds bled into his daily life. His vision constantly shifted between looking at the world he lived in and a parallel one. He even had a hard time discerning who was speaking due to the voices from the other worlds.
With the intense amount of vision, he was having difficulty in identifying which was his own world.
He felt like he was experiencing his childhood all over again, only ten times worse.
Hisashi saw death everywhere in the streets and flames burned as far as the eye could see; and even in his dreams, they plagued his mind. In all the worlds he had seen, Hisashi only encountered desolation. He fretted on the current state of the parallel existences.
What was happening to the worlds. Why was every world in the brink of destruction?
To make it more horrifying, it wasn’t limited to just seeing now. Sometimes, he could feel their emotions and physical reactions. Hisashi shuddered at the lingering sensation of his skin being peeled off, or being shot in the chest. Indescribable heat pooled in his body with each world he witnessed.
He suffered from sleepless nights in a poor attempt to stop himself from seeing them, but he ends up dozing off due to exhaustion. In addition to that, he ran himself ragged in regulating his body heat by overusing his quirk.
Haku was no help, either. His green-haired friend didn’t have any idea, simply that no matter who he tried to contact, everyone was either in the same position or unavailable. He often talked to Hisashi to distract him from seeing the other worlds, but it wasn’t enough.
Inko asked him countless times what was troubling him, but he waved her worries off. He tried his best to spend time with his family and enjoy life as he used to, but it was hard to focus when he was drowning from seeing the parallel worlds and felt like he was being incinerated to his very core.
Much to his dismay, he and Inko began to argue non-stop.
“Every moment we do nothing but fight! I think we need some time for ourselves!”
“Oh, so you need more time? What about this family, huh? What about our son? He needs us now more than ever!”
“I know that, but there’s nothing we can do for him; not when he’s like this!”
“So this is about Izuku being quirkless? And here I’d thought you’d accept him. Just because you received a quirk unlike your parents, you act like he isn’t even worth your time!”
“Like you’re any better. I saw it – you were disappointed when he didn’t get one!”
Because he was pouring so much of his time in this issue, Hisashi inadvertently neglected them both to the point that they barely talked in their home anymore; and when he did, he merely snapped irritably at his family. His stress was affecting them, too. There wasn't a day that they weren't fighting.
Izuku, his poor son who did not deserve any of their burdens, suffered the most from the rift in their family. Not only was he being bullied at school after he was proclaimed quirkless (which Hisashi wasn't really surprised to hear), he came home to his parents arguing on the pettiest things.
Neither he nor his wife were blind to his predicament, but no amount of prodding could make him talk.
Hisashi could only bury his face into his hands as he lamented on the fact that their family was gradually tearing itself apart.
“It’s just too much for me to handle. What do you think I should do?”
“I think you should come with me.”
Hisashi snapped his gaze to his friend. The green-haired male merely smiled benignly at him as if he hadn’t dropped a bomb on his lap. Come… with him? Sure, crossing over worlds was possible, but Haku himself said it rarely happened. “What do you mean?”
“You said it yourself, didn’t you? You need time away from all of this – your family, your work… everything on top of the problem with the worlds. Out of sight, out of mind.” Haku explained. “Unfortunately, ignoring the parallel worlds is out of the question. It simply can’t be done. Instead, you’ll keep away from your current life. Think of it like a vacation of sorts.”
A break, huh.
He snapped out of his reverie when Haku placed something metallic in his hands. How did–
Hisashi’s eyebrows rose at this new development – they weren’t able to physically interact before. Haku had a proud grin on his face when he spotted the other’s perplexed expression. “Amazing, isn’t it? Technology in my world has developed so much that we can do this now. It’s how I’m going to bring you with me.”
“This ring is advanced technology?”
“Yes!”
Hisashi inspected the ring. Other than the unique design, it didn’t look anything special. It was silver, with folded metallic wings. In the center of the wings was a green gem; it emitted a few sparks when he touched it. He's never seen anything like it. It gave him an eerie feeling and made him gravitate towards it at the same time.
“What is it?”
“It’s what we call a Mare ring. It can amplify our powers to a certain degree. With that ring, you can cross over to my world.”
The jewel glittered under the sun.
It was quite gaudy in his opinion, but the gem was beautiful enough, he supposed. “What am I supposed to do? Wear it? Then what?”
“That’s it.”
“That’s it?!”
He made a vague gesture with his hands at Hisashi’s incredulous response. He looks like he was holding back laughter. He probably was, the cheeky bastard.
“What do you think? Want to come with me? It’s not like you’re not coming back.” Hisashi hesitated. Haku tapped his cheek in wonder before snapping his fingers. “How about this – we can do a test run! Spend the rest of the day in my world. Once you’ve reached a decision, you can either stay or go home.”
The urge to wear the ring tugged at his heart.
“What do you say?”
“…I’ll do it.”
Haku’s smile widened.
The world exploded into flames.
Images of people flashed through his eyes. Hisashi witnessed events worth of trillion of peoples' lives all at once, maybe even more. The man clutched his head as his vision jumped from person to person, world to world, as the overwhelming amount of information slowly overloaded his mind.
Hisashi only continued to helplessly claw at his head. It was too much for him to handle. An infinite amount of knowledge crammed into his head in one go was too severe. He vaguely heard someone screaming in the background.
Somebody make it stop.
Make it stop!
Haku simply watched him burn.
After the flames subsided, all that's left in Hisashi's place was the ring, with orange flames flickering and green sparks crackling.
The green-haired man's smile faltered. After he picked up the fallen ring, he tutted in annoyance.
"Ah, it's too bad he burnt out before I could finish the transfer. I guess the world can't handle two of the same person physically existing at the same time in the same place." He sighed. “And after investing so much time on him, too. But you know…”
He gazed at the sky.
“I wouldn’t have figured out the full extent of our powers if it weren’t for you or Sho-chan, so really, I am grateful for your efforts. Thank you for being my friend for what little time we had, and for the valuable data.”
His hands clenched around the small trinket.
"Don't worry, Hisashi. Haku will take good care of you. As long as your will is engraved in the Mare ring, I can extract it whenever I want."
His green hair turned white. Purple eyes twinkled in mischief as his smile turned malicious.
"And this time, you can be my ghostly friend."
So if you didn’t understand... Hisashi is Ghost lol.
Okay, I remarked about Haku/Byakuran’s loneliness. There’s that chapter in KHR where Byakuran was isolated and Yuni was his only confidant at the time. Despite the initial megalomania, he struck me as a lonely person; someone who didn’t have much in common with anyone.
(I believe that buried deep down, was a boy living in solitude due to his awareness about existences. This part of Byakuran was what Hisashi saw.)
Then Shoichi fucked up with the time travelling and Byakuran’s descent started.
The point wherein Hisashi first awakened his abilities in childhood was due to Checkerface showing himself. Why he was there? I believe that Checkerface always knows who the next bearer of the Tri-ni-sette artifacts were, and he checks on them. In the BNHA world, the Mare holder is supposed to be Hisashi, Byakuran’s parallel self.
(Also, note that I never described what Izuku’s father looks like. He’s supposed to look similar to Byakuran.)
The next instance that the ability emerged was due to Byakuran awakening his own ability. Remember that all parallel worlds are connected in some way. I imagine that because he unlocked his powers and tried to project himself over countless other worlds, he jumpstarted the development of those Byakurans, too. This was the case for Hisashi.
So Hisashi trusts Byakuran because they’re technically the same person.
Basically, I just wanted to have an excuse to write Chuunibyou!Izuku at some point in my life. This is an experimental fic that I did on a whim so who knows if I pick this story up again at some point. (This is a one-shot btw.)
I wrote this in one sitting so pardon me for any spelling/grammatical errors and incoherent babbles.
Summary: As a child, Izuku had always been off in his own world. So when he gets a quirk fueled by his imagination, his personality takes a rather odd turn.
Izuku has been coming home late recently.
Normally, it wouldn't be too suspicious since most kids his age often got caught up playing with their friends outside. However, Izuku wasn't like them— he preferred to stay inside and read story books or watch hero videos all day. He'd rather sit at one spot for hours on end.
But nowadays, he looked completely exhausted; like he constantly ran a marathon every day. At times, he's covered in bruises and scrapes. She wasn't blind to his limps and minute flinches, either.
She even caught Izuku having long, one-sided conversations with himself. Izuku has always been a unusual child who spoke and acted differently from other kids, but he had never done anything like that before.
Inko thought that it might be his quirk— that her child may be seeing something that's not there, but the doctor said that it wasn't the case. Izuku may not have an extra joint, but her son's quirk is still dormant. "Perhaps it's just his imagination," the doctor said.
Yes, she was told it was normal for kids around Izuku's age to have imaginary friends, but she can't help but worry. Being extremely introverted at a young age wasn't healthy. I mean, the only friend he had that wasn't imaginary was Katsuki— and that was only because Katsuki is her friend's son!
It was why Inko resolved to get her son to talk. Did he prefer to be alone because kids picked on him at school? Why has he been returning home late? Was there anything she could help with?
As his mother, she wanted to know.
"You know you can tell me anything, right?" She said, gesturing at her son to sit beside her. "These couple of weeks, you've been coming home tired and injured. Are you being bullied? What's going on?"
He froze like a child caught pilfering from the cookie jar. He began to fidget and stammer, trying to explain his situation. "I-I-It's nothing like that, I just—"
"I know that kids have been picking on you for being quirkless, okay? You shouldn't have to put up with them, Izuku! Just because you don't have a quirk doesn't give them an excuse to—"
"M-Mom, you've got it all wrong," Izuku interrupted her rant. He then mumbled something under his breath.
Wait, what? Did she hear that right? "Can you repeat that?" When he opened his mouth to speak again, she noticed that his bottom lip was trembling. "Louder, this time. I'm not mad. Calm down."
Izuku sighed. "...I have a quirk."
"You do?" Why this was wonderful news! He's always aspired to be a hero like All Might, and now he finally awakened his ability. "That's great and all, but what's it got to do with your bruises? And why haven't you told me yet?"
Her son looked as if he was about to cry. Knowing him, he probably was at any moment now. "I wanted to surprise you on your birthday tomorrow! All the other kids have flashy ones! I've been training my quirk so you to be proud of me..."
Inko hugged her son. "Oh, honey, it doesn't matter to me what quirk you have. I'll always be proud of you." Thank god for that. The woman was glad she was mistaken. Heaven knows what she'd do if her son was truly ostracized by his peers.
She clasped his hands. "Then, can your dear old mother see her wonderful son's equally wonderful quirk?" Izuku nodded excitedly. His mom wanted to see his quirk, even if it's not as eye-catching as Kacchan!
He trotted a few feet away from her. Her son took a deep breath and closed his eyes. A light green aura enveloped his body as a glowing circle appeared in front of him. Wind gathered and circulated in one spot until she could make out a shadow. In a split second, he opened his eyes and spread out his arms. "Fairy Sylph, come on out!"
Much to Inko's wonder, an actual fairy emerged from the wind. She had light green eyes and matching hair. Her heart-shaped face was framed by two, feather-like bangs and elongated ears. The tiny creature's body was covered from neck to toe with feathers of varying shades of green; arranged in such a way that it looked like a dress. Finally, on her back were delicate butterfly wings that glittered with every movement.
She was ethereal; downright gorgeous.
Inko felt like a little girl all over again.
"You shouldn't be sad about your quirk. This is incredible! I've never heard of someone summoning a fairy befo— IZUKU!" Inko panicked. Her son was lying down on the floor, unmoving. She carried him in her arms and began fanning him with her other hand.
The freckled boy held out a shaky hand to her. His mouth trembled as he spoke to his mother, "Calling Sylph is really tiring, mom... it's why I've... been practicing. Didn't wanna... keep passing out every time..."
"Izuku, I know you're excited and all but please don't push yourself too hard. It's a great quirk, but I don't want your health to suffer because of it."
A few hours later, her son already recovered. It wasn't anything life-threatening, but his quirk was extremely taxing on his stamina. Ever since that day, she helped her son harness his quirk so he wouldn't be too exhausted every single time he uses his quirk. In turn, her son was able to summon without collapsing and often went home with a tiny spirit companion or two.
For quite some time, Inko believed that he can only summon small creatures like Sylph and the azure-colored animal that tagged along during their trips to the grocery.
Then one day...
"I'm home!"
She went to the doorway to greet Izuku. "Welcome ba—" Inko dropped her ladle in shock. Her eyes widened incredulously as she stared at the creature behind her son. She raised a quivering finger at it. "W-W-W-Wha...!"
The freckled boy was lying down on the doorway. Izuku beamed at her as he tiredly patted the enormous, reptilian snout beside him, which was blocking the entire entrance. Smoke steadily leaked from the sides of its mouth as it let out a deep, throaty growl. She heard faint screams from outside.
Inko almost had a heart attack.
"Izuku!"
There was a reason why Izuku was her favorite of them all.
Obaa-sama, as many in the family addressed her, was the stern and strict matriarch of the Midoriya family who ruled over them with an iron fist. She may not be able to burn everything down like her husband, but she was incredibly intimidating and a figure of authority in their bloodline.
Contrary to popular belief, it was she and not her husband, who held the power in the family. She was the one who entered public service and eventually, the military. She was the one who went to the frontlines against the vilest of villains, whilst her husband stayed home to protect their children. She was the one who fought against the oppression against the quirk users. She was the one who brought prestige and honor to their family.
Thus, her word is law.
Much to her dismay, none of her children became like her. No one entered public service— no heroes, no policemen, no soldiers, no anything. They all settled for mundane jobs and thankless careers. Not to mention that no one bothered to at least hone their abilities. The powerful quirks they were blessed with were utterly wasted on them.
To rub salt into the wound, none of her children were able to inherit her quirk. Instead, they took after her husband's stronger quirk, and her grandchildren and great-grandchildren were no different. They either inherited fire or from their other parents who had equally strong and impressive abilities. If she, with her unconventional quirk was able to make a difference and bring honor to their family, then surely, those with better quirks can do the same if not better, right?
Honestly, her descendants were hopeless.
That is, until Inko, the wife of her youngest grandson, brought Izuku.
The child wasn't anything impressive— scrawny, clumsy, and soft-spoken. He cried easily, bruised easily from tripping everywhere, and for some time, he had been declared quirkless. She thought that he would be another failure in a long line of failures.
But then, it all changed on Izuku's fifth birthday.
The once thought quirkless child actually had a quirk. And not just any old ability, it was hers; he inherited her quirk. She was happy. Finally, someone in the family took after her! Not to mention that he had a more powerful version of hers and was ambitious enough to want to be a hero. This was the perfect opportunity.
"You're special, Izuku. You're the next hope of this family," She spoke as she petted his head. "Remember, every one of us is counting on you to restore our reputation."
Obaa-sama began to treat Izuku differently from the others. It was obvious to them that she regarded him with favoritism and many of their relatives were jealous that he was the one getting attention from the bitter old hag; that he's the one most likely to become head of the family in the future.
From then on, Izuku was convinced that he's meant for something more.
Izuku hadn't let praise and special treatment get to his head like Kacchan, however, it did lead to him developing a rather... odd personality.
The Midoriya matriarch was too blinded by the prospect of reputation that she never noticed anything, but the rest of the Midoriya family saw and knew all too well what was happening to the kid. It didn't help that his quirk thrived from it, either.
Obaa-sama's influence was fueling Izuku's delusions.
Oh, boy.
All Might was no stranger to eccentricities.
In the hero community, you interact with people from all sorts of backgrounds— and this meant meeting the more... colorful of the bunch; himself included among them.
But never has he met anyone stranger than the young man before him.
"I have anxiously waited for this day; the day that Obaa-sama has foretold— the arrival of my destiny." The green-haired boy covered his left eye with a trembling hand. It was briefly reminiscent of another hero he saw posing on live television. "To think that it would be you of all people... that you and I meet must be a fate decided by the world itself."
The man had been chasing a slime villain earlier. He barely made it in time to rescue the kid from being suffocated and taken over by said criminal. When he woke the kid up, All Might was taken aback because the boy he saved spaced out only to instantly burst in joy. For a moment, the man swore he saw sparkles appearing in the background.
The boy then directed his gaze at him. He expected the boy to thank him or something—
"I-I summoned you, didn't I, Sir All Might?"
—not this.
"Summon? What do you mean?" He scratched his head in confusion.
Predictably, the child ignored his query and went off to a tangent.
"Of course, I would summon you. I'm the best in the world. Obaa-sama even said that my quirk is more advanced; that I could summon any being! Ah, but wait. I can only summon spirits, not living people." He paled fast. "Oh, no. This is bad. This is really, really bad. If I summoned him, does this mean that Sir All Might is... is..."
The man felt dread settle in his stomach. The boy looked like he was about to cry. He jumped in surprise when the boy yelled out of the blue. "NO, THIS CAN'T BE TRUE!"
(What kind of kid did he rescue?)
However, who could have imagined that this eccentric, crybaby young man reminded him of what it means to be a hero: that heroes risked their lives to fight villains and protect the citizens.
His fists still quaked at the reminder of his momentary weakness.
Due to his carelessness, the slime villain was able to break free from his temporary container and captured another child whilst he idled by because he had reached his limit. Meanwhile, the kid fearlessly dove into danger, claiming that his body moved on its own.
At that moment, he was more heroic than any of the heroes.
It wasn't as if he charged in recklessly, either. His movements in confronting the criminal were clearly given thought; he crouched down low so he wouldn't be too noticeable and hurled his bag towards the villain's eyes.
This kid had what it takes to be a true hero. The only problem was...
"What's your name?"
The kid extended his arm in a melodramatic fashion. "I am Midoriya Izuku! Thy calling is that of a summoner, whose life is guided by and dedicated to the Sacred Guardian Spirits!"
(He has to give props to the kid— he already has a hero's dramatic flair done perfectly.)
"Ah, I see. You have been rendered speechless by your sudden arrival in an unknown location. You see, in my darkest moments, I sought out the strongest spirit in the world to battle against the forces of evil. Hence, I was able to call upon you."
He shrugged his shoulders. "Alas, it is unfortunate that you have passed on to the next plane of existence. But fear not, for I will peer into the ultimate abyss with you!"
...Somehow, the kid thought he was already dead. All Might sighed in exasperation. I guess, seeing my true form just made it worse.
He didn't know if this kid would be a viable candidate to be the next successor of One For All, but he did know that Izuku was plenty heroic and his heart was in the right place. He just has a... peculiar speech pattern and mannerisms that can put people off.
For instance, he refers to himself as the prince of a fictional kingdom and views heroes as some sort of honorable warriors or chivalrous knights. Villains aren't merely villains to him; he calls them all sorts of titles: tyrants, overlords, evil witches; you name it.
(All Might has seen this kind of phenomenon before, back when he was a student. He had a classmate with a reptilian quirk who firmly believed that he had a mysterious dragon force sealed in his left arm. He often proclaimed that he was a Dragonborn warrior.
What did kids call it these days— chuunibou? Chuuniban?)
Surprisingly, when he offered to admit him to Yuuei as a recommended student, the kid refused out of some sense of honor and fair play. He wanted to get into the school the old-fashioned way: pass the entrance exam. Although, he's going to be a piece of work; the kid was clumsy and totally unathletic.
His quirk was something else, though. To have the power to summon creatures that mostly exist in fiction... he can see where his student's imagination was coming from.
When asked about how he awakened his ability, Izuku only answered, "I have stared into the darkness, and the darkness has stared back. In my journey of self-discovery, I was able to call upon the beings of the universe!" He then gestured to the fairy sitting on top of his head. "Sylph, the Noble Spirit of the Healing Wind, is merely the first of many to have deemed me worthy of their power!"
(This was Izuku-speak for, "I was just hanging out somewhere when I accidentally activated my quirk. I summoned a fairy. Isn't that cool?"
All Might didn't know whether to be dismayed or impressed with himself that he's gotten used to his student's speech pattern and quickly understood what he was trying to say.)
The next ten months wouldn't be boring at all, that's for sure.
Iida Tenya was a person of principle and discipline.
Above all else, he wanted to be like his older brother, the Turbo Hero, Ingenium. He had always admired Tensei not only for his exceptional physical capabilities, but also for being someone who genuinely desired to help others. He was a paragon of virtue who would stand for his ideals, no matter what.
And today was his first step towards becoming that kind of person.
Up to this point, he was slightly disappointed by his peers. Many of them were clearly in for the hero industry due to fame or fortune— he could already see it with their actions and behavior. They were taking it as a game, making bets over who got more points compared to the others.
However, the one who disappointed him the most was the curly-haired kid.
Not only was he disruptive with his constant mumbling, he treated the entire thing like an otaku circus act. He was wearing the most outlandish garb he'd ever seen: a sequined All Might-themed top hat with large protruding attachments mimicking the hero's hair and a black high-collared cape over his green tracksuit.
He looked absolutely ridiculous.
In addition to that, he had the audacity to prance around as if he owned the place and even attempted to sabotage their fellow examinees. Only the lowest of the low would consider such a thing. What a disgrace.
With such a horrendous first impression and after berating the kid himself, he didn't expect to work with him at all.
As the zero pointer destroyed the surrounding infrastructure and loomed over to attack them, everyone made a run for it. He was no different. He heard someone calling for attention, but paid no mind to it as he continued to flee the scene.
"Hey, I said. Sir Engine Legs!"
To his surprise, a green light blocked his way. Iida halted his dash, barely avoided hitting the small creature. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he stared at it. It was a fairy— a tiny fairy that was giving him a harsh glare.
He then noticed a light tug on his sleeve. He glanced to his side and felt irritation when he gazed at the strange curly-haired boy from before. The fairy was now sitting on top of the other's head. His lips pursed and curled into a slight sneer as he spoke to him with a harsh, stern voice, "What do you want? Don't tell me that you're planning on sabotaging even in this conditi—"
"You are mistaken! I am not so dishonorable as to put down our temporary comrades. I know you dislike me, but hear me out." The boy interrupted. He pointed in the direction of the gimmick robot. "I saw a young maiden trapped underneath the rubble over there." Iida's eyes widened. It was true, he saw a vague brown-colored shape in the distance. The robot was still some ways off, but if she doesn't get out of there in time, she could end up crushed.
"I'm not strong enough to lift the rubble or fast enough to get there in time, and to our misfortune, the mechanical golem is quickly approaching. I could destroy it, but it would be for naught since she might get caught in the crossfire." The kid scratched the back of his head. "If you get the lady out of there, I can take down the enemy for good."
Taking down the robot to show off? And what is with that speech pattern? "You do realize that it's not worth any points, right?"
The boy's face twisted into an angry expression. "It's not about the points. It's about helping her!"
As much as Iida abhorred the boy's previous conduct, this was no time to argue with him out of personal differences. The curly-haired kid was right; it is more important to help others than to squabble over petty things.
"All I have to do is run, right?" Iida flexed his legs. "You better not get any funny ideas."
He made an offended sound. "Of course not! Retrieve the maiden at all costs. I shall begin my incantation." Green aura covered his entire body as the atmosphere became heavier with each passing second. "O black omen hidden within the depths of the universe, spread your wings as you grace us with your divine presence..."
The curly-haired kid was downright bizarre. Iida blinked dumbfoundedly at the sight before shaking his head. No need to get distracted now. He activated his quirk and braced himself for the run. Any mistake could lead to the girl getting severely hurt.
"Wahh, it's coming!" The girl screamed in terror.
(In her panic, Uraraka Ochako had forgotten to make the rubble float off from her.)
In one massive leap, he zoomed across the street to her side. Iida focused intense energy on his leg and with all his might, he unleashed a kick to break away the large stone over her; creating a wide arc of sheer force that shattered it into tiny pieces. His actions caught the robot's attention and it went after them straightaway.
Just when they thought they still had time to get away, the gimmick machine's movement speed accelerated. It's crazy fast! Is Yuuei trying to get their applicants killed?! Iida thought.
Before the girl could even get a word in edgewise, Iida immediately carried her into his arms and ran for it. He furrowed his eyebrows when he saw the curly-haired kid still muttering. A bead of sweat trickle down his temple, and he felt his stomach dropped in fear. What is he doing? We're going to get crushed at this rate!
Iida had just run past him, when the curly-haired kid smirked. He raised his arms. "In the name of the summoner, I evoke your name," The sky darkened and the clouds swirled. An enormous circle filled with unintelligible scribbles and symbols appeared in the midst of it. "Come forth!"
What happened next shattered everything Iida knew about quirks. In his shock, his grip on the girl slackened and accidentally dropped her as both of their jaws dropped. Many other applicants in the distance also stopped running to gape at what happened.
"WHAT THE HECK IS THAT?!"
A large, black thing emerged from the heavens. It bellowed a mighty roar so powerful, it sent shockwaves on all sides. With every movement, the creature sent debris flying as it was too large for the street. Buildings collapsed and debris flew everywhere as it went on a rampage, tearing down everything in its path.
The zero pointer was no different. In one fell swoop of its tail, the robot went down. It then proceeded to breathe some sort of plasma from its mouth and destroyed the rest of the infrastructure and all other robots in the vicinity. After it wreaked havoc, it seemed to circle around to check if there was anything it missed. Somehow satisfied with its destruction, the creature disappeared in a burst of light.
(The curly-haired kid summoned a dragon. What the hell.)
Understandably, everyone was silent as Present Mic announced that the test was over. Nobody paid attention to the medics that came in, either.
Once upon a time, there was a kingdom established in the land of the rising sun.
The kingdom began as a small community founded by a farmer named Midoriya. He gathered all the other farmers that he knew to join him and help each other manage their farms. Under his rule, they flourished— what was a quaint little community now transformed into a bustling town. He then passed on the position to his only son, who also made their town thrive. The farmer's son would then pass it on to his own son, and so on and so forth.
As time passed, it continued to grow and grow and grow; from a community to a humble village to a boisterous city, and eventually, a kingdom was born. With the birth of a new kingdom was the establishment of a dynasty, and no one opposed the reign of the Midoriya family.
Like his predecessors, King Hisashi was just and kind. With his fair wife, Queen Inko, and his beloved son, Prince Izuku, the kingdom had many prosperous years during their reign— everyone was happy and content. It was why the people loved them dearly.
And it is also why they were utterly devastated when the king went missing.
One day, he just left and never came back. He abandoned his kingdom and his family to rot along with them. The queen and the prince grieved, and the people felt betrayed. The kingdom would have been in shambles without a leader. However, not all hope was lost. Because although the king has abdicated the throne, Queen Inko took a stand and became the new ruler. She picked up her husband's slack and lead the people as if the king never left.
Prince Izuku, who was expected to be lonely and bitter and loathing towards his father, was fairly unaffected by his absence. He moved on from his grief and remained a happy child. This was only thanks to his mother's guidance and the presence of his dearest friend, Kacchan.
Kacchan, as affectionaly named by Izuku, was the only son of Queen Inko's friend; the Duchess Bakugou Mitsuki. He was a precocious little thing who was both endearing and annoying. The duchess's young son was raised to be humble, but the commoners regarded him on a pedestal. He grew arrogant and developed a nasty case of inferiority superiority complex.
For all his arrogance, however, Kacchan was a figure of power and charisma— the picture of victory. It was why the other children followed his lead, and why Izuku admired him.
Both of them bonded over succeeding their parents and their dream of becoming a great knight like All Might. All Might was a legendary knight hailed for his numerous deeds. Despite his unknown identity, the people looked up to him. He was what every child aspired to be; a hero.
In a world of superhumans, Quirks were highly valued by society and knighthood was no different. Protecting the kingdom and the people would involve dangers of varying degrees. It was why the greater Quirk that a person possessed, the greater their chances of becoming a knight.
Izuku wanted to be a competent king who could not only rule, but also protect.
However, fate was unkind; he was rejected before he could even make something out of himself.
While children his age were discovering and developing their Quirks, Izuku has not shown any signs of having one. Out of worry for her child, Inko brought Izuku to the royal doctor.
"It's best you give up," The healer announced, pointing at a diagram of the bone structure of Izuku's foot. "The young prince is turning five soon and has yet to show any indication of his ability. He may not have an extra joint, but I concur that it's too late for him to develop anything at this point."
He was proclaimed Quirkless— a one-way ticket to becoming a social pariah. Many people viewed quirklessness as an undesirable mutation, and being the royal prince did not make him immune to their criticisms. Izuku, at the tender age of four, already knew that. But as long as he had his mother and Kacchan, he can take anything.
"You're a quirkless loser," Kacchan declared the next day. "Who'd wanna hang out with a weak Deku like you?"
He heard something shatter.
Maybe it was the glass he dropped. Maybe it was the bone in his arm after the bullies stomped on it.
Maybe it was his tender heart left broken in pieces due to Kacchan's heartless words.
Inko, witnessing his descent from a bright young boy to a melancholic child, knew she had to do something to cheer him up. The queen decided that if her child would not have any inherent ability, she would teach him magic. But she would not settle down with just any spellbook; she wanted only the best for her son, after all.
The queen gathered her most trusted warriors, saddled her loyal steed, and departed in search of a tome said to contain powerful spells (That would be 1500¥, ma'am," The clerk said.). She and her entourage was successful and thus, she returned from her journey giving the tome to Izuku.
"This is a tome filled to the brim with a wide array of spells. It takes a lot of responsibility to handle it," Inko spoke gently to her son as he hung on to her every word. "Perhaps you can't be a knight like All Might, but I know you can be something else just as great."
The young boy held onto the tome like a lifeline. He then hugged his mother tightly and thanked her profusely. "You're the best mom ever."
"I'm you're only mom," She joked.
Since then, Izuku spent his days reading the tome and memorizing every page to the last detail. He didn't want to waste the opportunity given to him by his mother. He quickly learns that it was not just a mere spellbook— it was also an autobiography detailing rituals involved in summoning spirits and monsters.
It was penned by a gifted sorcerer in the days of yore. They spoke of their travels through various places across the land. The boy was instantly fascinated by their tales. In fact, he had been so enraptured by them that he decided to try the casting spells on his own.
Though he may not have a talent for spellwork, Izuku discovered that he had a penchant for summoning. On his first try, he was able to call upon a tiny wind spirit called Sylph. He was spellbound by the mesmerizing beauty of the fairy that his mother caught him practicing magic without supervision. It was how she came to know his newfound skill.
His mother forbade him from summoning greater spirits for his body may not handle the strain. This doesn't deter him from trying time and time again. He didn't want to stay a powerless Deku any longer.
One tale in particular caught the prince's eye. The sorcerer claimed to have called upon the Dragon King, whom they tried to form a contract with. However, the dragon rejected them and sent them away with a large burst of its flames.
Izuku immediately knew that this was the summon meant for him.
Without telling anyone, he sets off to prepare the ritual to summon the Dragon King. Izuku went to the forest for his next deed. The young prince looked around to check if anyone followed him. Satisfied that he got away undetected, he then began the ritual.
"O ancient wyrm, ruler of the sky... hear my plea," He chanted while his body glowed with raw magic. There wasn't really any guarantee that it would work since the sorcerer noted there weren't any specific words to summon it, only that he had to mention its name; but this was the king of the dragons. If he wanted a pact, he had to treat a summoned being with respect.
"I, Midoriya Izuku, calls upon thee, Bahamut!"
A large magic circle appeared in the sky. The clouds darkened and strong bouts of wind enveloped the area. Izuku felt like he was going to be blown away. He dug his feet onto the soil, held onto a tree, and held his ground.
Suddenly, there was a crash above him, followed by another, and another— trees were knocked down with loud crashes. Branches, not just a few, but pretty much all of them fell as a pitch-black shape blocked his entire view above.
He then felt something poke his back. Izuku turned around, only to see enormous reptilian eyes looking back at him. The dragon's snout was forefront, with his equally large maw ablaze with flickers of fire.
"I didn't think it would actually work.”
According to Izuku, his ability is...
Quirk: Evocation of the Thousand Sacred Guardian Spirits (Official name is Imaginary Friend)
Description: The power to call upon the beings of the universe that exist beyond human comprehension (The power to create creatures and beings out of one’s imagination)
In other words, his ability is imaginary entity creation. It’s like Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends; Izuku imagines a creature and it comes to life.
Details:
Belief-Dependent Physiology: Needs to believe they’re real so they can exist. (Good thing Izuku is a chuunibyou.)
Can create and delete imaginary entities at will. The stronger, the bigger, and more in amount he creates, the greater the energy spent.
Has a time limit on manifesting an entity. The time limit is inversely proportional to the power, size, and complexity of the imagined entity. His current time limit for Bahamut is 1 minute.
Can give limited independence to an entity. (The entity can’t decide for itself. Rather, it acts upon Izuku’s will. How it interprets his command is where the “independence” comes in, and it also depends on what personality Izuku imagined it to have.)
Since this is technically a mental power, if he overuses his quirk, Izuku will risk not just body, but also mental fatigue. He will also suffer from headaches, nausea, and in severe cases, a nosebleed.
If you haven’t noticed, Izuku doesn’t stick to one chant. This is because he technically doesn’t need it, but due to belief-dependent physiology, he has to do it because chanting enforces his belief that he’s genuine summoning something that exists.
How the heck did Izuku become a chuunibyou? And what did you mean by “he didn’t let it get to his head like Kacchan”? Chuunis are arrogant!
Izuku becomes a chuunibyou because he was already slightly delusional in the first place. The last part of the fic was from his POV. Izuku viewed the world like a fairy tale as a child, hence the title. And because he gets a quirk fueled by imagination, his delusions just get worse. Not to mention that his great-grandmother egged him on.
The definition of chuunibyou is “a person which manifests delusional behavior, particularly thinking that one has special powers that no other person has”. They don’t have to be arrogant or think they’re above everyone else; just that they have a special power. You could say that the arrogance is a by-product of the chuuni mentality.
In this case, Izuku doesn’t get the arrogance.
Why did you even think of this in the first place?
Because I always thought Izuku would grow up different if he had a quirk in the first place, I wondered what would happen if he had an overreacting imagination stemming from his childhood days; and what happens if he gets a quirk that makes this problem worse. Thus, Chuunibyou Izuku was born.
I guess you can say that he is truly a madman in every sense of the word.
Have you ever tried writing original fiction? I think your works are good!
I was usually coerced into joining poem writing contests when I was still a student, but I’m not really much into writing original fiction.
However, I did write one back in high school. It’s about a cat whose owner died and was left to his nephew. Said cat is not very fond of his new human, but he eventually ends up looking after him anyway.
Since it’s for a “Best Original Fiction First Chapter” contest (or something along those lines), I only wrote the opening chapter. There is no official ending to the story.
There’s probably a lot of mistakes and the flow of the story might be shit, but I literally copy-pasted it from the document (no revision whatsoever), so pardon the bad writing of ol’ high schooler me. :’D
Without further ado, here is “How to Raise a Human for Dummies”.
Summary: Basically, even after taking care of him, my debt-wringing drunk bastard of an owner still died and left me to (watch over) his nephew. I can't decide who's worse.
(More under the cut.)
Ah, sweet, sweet couch. How I never want to part with you ever again. This silky fabric, this soft cushion, and mhmm, this velvety texture.... I'm in heaven. I can see the brat glaring at me on the side, but who cares about him?
Oh, you must be wondering who I am.
The name is Schrodinger. My owner calls me by that name — sometimes Schro, if he's too lazy to say my entire name (and why he gave me such a long-ass name remains a mystery to me) — but when he's drunk, which is practically most of the time, he just says a weird mix of my name and some other guy's during his slurs.
I'm your regular, run-on-the-mill tom cat. A few superstitious people thought of me as bad luck, because of my pitch-black fur and heterochromatic eyes. Honestly, humans… if I was one, I'd probably flip them a finger.
Anyways, I've been living in the streets as a kit until I was taken in by a pure, kind-hearted man.
...Oh, who am I kidding?
My owner's the biggest bastard of them all. Why he even bothered to pick little ol' me all those years ago, I'll never understand. I've been staying with Carter, my owner, for five human years (that's around thirty-six years in cat lifespan, mind you!) and I still don't understand how he thinks.
Maybe some things will just remain a mystery.
It's kind of sad to think that I'm still single and haven't got laid with a dazzling female kit out there, but I'm thinking that I've been scarred into celibacy, seeing as I was exposed to my owner's... nightly endeavors for every single day of my life; unless he was on duty, I suppose. If there was a world record for the highest number a person beds everyday, Carter would've won, hands down.
As a cat in general, I'd never thought of anyone as my owner. We felines are highly proud creatures; the most majestic and most graceful of them all. We don’t need humans to survive. However, as much as I hate to admit it, Carter took me in during my most miserable moment, and I owed a lot to him.
Besides, the man makes the best cat food I've ever eaten.
Our relationship isn't entirely owner and pet, though. Even if I regard him as my owner, it ends up with me looking out for him. God knows how many people tried to kill him, both on and off-duty, and I can't deny I haven't tried it myself. Not only that, Carter was neglectful of his health at times, and I often find myself threatening to scratch him if he doesn't get his lazy ass off his bed.
You could say that I'm living the easy life — barring the fact that I take care of a grown man in my own way — since I'm in a cozy home, well-fed, and well-groomed everyday.
Recently though, that has not been the case.
Basically, even after taking care of him, my debt-wringing drunk bastard of an owner still died and left me to (watch over) his nephew. I can't decide who's worse.
Honestly, that man had the gall to just die off without telling me. Do you have any idea how many life-and-death situations he had survived?
You see, Carter is a military officer, and he's been sent off to various wars and human skirmishes. He comes back home — sometimes gravely injured, most of the time, not — but still alive. The man has the tenacity and survivability of a damn cockroach!
That civil war in Afghanistan? That mini skirmish in Vietnam? That dispute with North Korea? That one time he almost bled to death but still lived anyway? Hell, I even spit out hairballs into his whiskey back when he forgot to feed me for a day and he hadn't choked to his death!
He's gone through it all, and not once was his life taken away.
He's not supposed to die. I was counting on that, you know? I mean, he was too much of a bastard to die. He was a liar, a horrible drunk, a womanizer, a manipulative little snitch, and I figured he wouldn't die simply because God would do anything to keep him away as much as possible.
That's not the only issue here. The most infuriating part was that he left a will, in which he gives all his assets (and me) to his sister (regardless of the irony, if you get what I mean), who had a son (that was bad); Carter's fourteen-year-old, snot-nosed nephew.
Why did he do that?
...Damn you, Carter.
I had plans on my own — only that people don't know I can think — and you've ruined them.
When news of his uncle's death reached him, I saw him writhe in despair. Me too, I thought at the time. Why am I stuck with a brat like you?
On the other hand, Collins (I couldn’t be bothered to learn his given name) was sitting there on the side, wishing for his own death. The brat was suicidal, from what I heard, since he blamed himself for his father's death and his own evil uncle got to go before he did.
I have this impression that unhealthy mentalities run in the family.
At least Carter went out with style. I mean, he was chasing after some runaway terrorist in Africa and then he got mauled by a pack of lions and that managed to kill him, just because he wasn't paying attention, I think.
Death isn't something that anyone should ever take lightly, but I can't help but see the humor in it. “And then he got mauled by a pack of lions because of his stupidity”.
Hah.
Obviously, Collins can't appreciate it. He thinks it's an insult that Carter went first. They did say that there's only rest for the wicked.
As I said before, Carter left me to his nephew.
It was hate at first sight, I admit.
I like kids, I really do. Even when they're trying to pull my tail, I'd still find them adorable.
However, something about the brat just rubbed me the wrong way. I despised him and he loathed my very presence. It was a mutual hate relationship. Every time I strutted by, I'd hiss and try to scratch him. Every time he saw me, he'd give me a glare and would try to grab me.
I'm proud to say that he's never won any of our clashes. Those scratch marks on his arms were proof of that.
The brat and I… I don't think we'd ever get along. Besides, he's creepy. If I only knew that Carter's death would tantamount to raising some twisted little kid, I would've ran away the moment he died.
Obviously, I didn't know. That's why I ended up in a house (which has a killer couch, by the way) with Carter's awesome sister and her fucked up son.
Speaking of Carter's sister, Rachel was a single parent and thus, was out of the house most of the time — which meant, the brat and I were often alone, and trying to gut each other every time.
Collins was a lousy investment. He was mentally twisted, he was scrawny, he was clumsy, he wasn't smart, and he had zero self-esteem.
The sensible thing to do would be to stay away from the brat. The best decision, in fact, would be to leave the kid and sleep on the rooftop until Rachel comes back or something. Unfortunately, we seem to have this magnetic connection that compels us to be in each other's presence despite our mutual hate.
For reasons extremely unclear to me, I'm spending a lot of time hissing at the brat, when I shouldn't even bat an eyelash at him.
…
Hot damn, I'm actually looking out for the kid.
…No, no. I'm only doing this for Rachel.
Really.
Rachel, I really do love you and think of you as a goddess sent from paradise, but you make the worst cat food ever. What is this reddish-brown lump in my bowl? I poked it a few times and I think it moved. There goes my lunch. I'm going to have to settle with rummaging the neighbor's trash can. Never ours, because similar... things definitely ended up there.
I looked over at the brat, and his face seemed a bit green. I took a peek at his food and grimaced. It was a green thing and... was that supposed to be mashed potato? It looks like a mush of poop. I don't even want to know how mold got to his food when all of Rachel's ingredients were fresh.
Great. Carter's sister is an awful cook. How did Collins survive up to this day?
Then I remembered that a few of my owner's money went straight to him, instead of his mom. Maybe there was a valid reason why Carter sent me to their house.
I was bemoaning my fate when someone rang the doorbell. Getting curious, I walked to the doorway and saw a man around Rachel's age. He had brown hair, contrasting the family's trademark blonde hair, and blue eyes, which sort of clashed with the family's gray ones. The guy was carrying Chinese food and some cans with a picture of a cat on them.
Yuck.
If there was something I disliked more than the brat, it was commercialized cat food. However, Rachel's cooking represented death itself and I'm not taking any chances. I'd rather take the canned cat food over her grub any day.
The new arrival's not that bad, I guess. He had this fatherly aura around him. I eventually learned that his name was John, and he was Rachel's current boyfriend. Well, that, and the fact that Collins hated him with every fiber of his being.
...I knew there was a reason I liked this man.
Then once Rachel left the kitchen, the man instantly got rid of her cooking.
Go, lover boy, go! Rid us of these monstrosities!
When he had disposed of those... things, he brought out that Chinese food and those cans of cat food. I had the urge to hiss when the smell of the cat food wafted to my nose. Ugh. I still can't stand the stench, and the taste would be stale, too. But I guess I'll just have to make do with it if I don't want to starve.
After he gave me food, he gave a box to the kid, and I can see that he didn't want to eat it if it came from the man who wanted to get into his mother's pants. Oh, come on, you whiny brat. If I could put up with cheap cat food, then you can put up with perfectly decent Chinese food from your mother's lover boy.
When John took a dumpling, I thought, this is gonna be good.
If I was human, I would've laughed my ass off already. But I wasn't, so I settled with staring smugly at the brat who had the time to glare at me while John was distracted. The glare wasn't intimidating, no. It more or less resembled a pout.
That didn't deter John from his mission.
Oh, sweet lord, he thought that Collins wanted to be spoon-fed (or chopstick-fed, whatever, you get the idea). It was, simply put, hilarious.
"Stop treating me like a little kid."
"You're only fourteen, Peter."
"That's already grown up in my books!"
"Don't be like that. Here comes the train, choo-choo!"
Hahaha, I can't stop.
They went on, with Collins (or Peter, whichever) spouting hurtful personal comments. Not that hurtful, though, and that gave me the impression that the brat was only pretending to hate John. I think he genuinely likes him, seeing as the man paid him attention his mother could not, but couldn't accept him since he didn't want his father to be replaced. Brat probably believes in that 'I have only one father and mother in my lifetime' business.
I think John has the same idea, too, since he's smiling fondly at the brat.
Feh.
Humans.
This was why I hated commercialized cat food.
My stomach rumbled painfully as I howled, trying to catch Rachel's attention. The brat was sneering at me, but there seemed to be something else in his eyes.
Oh, great. The last thing I needed was pity from snot-nosed brats.
"Aww, don't you worry, little kitty," Rachel cooed at me. If I wasn't feeling miserable right now, I would have appreciated the attention. Alas, I am too far deep willowing in my own agony.
If you are curious, Rachel and the brat brought me over to a veterinarian to check what's wrong with me. They still don't understand that it was the fault of cheap cat food. I hissed at the idea of it, and they think it's because we passed by the neighbor's chihuahua.
Ah, that common misperception that cats and dogs are mortal enemies. A cat and a dog have a hissing-slash-barking fight and people think the rest of us are like that, too. To be honest, I love dogs just as much as I love kids, and that's probably why I'm sticking around the brat despite my huge dislike for him. He's all bark and no bite.
I was cut short of my musings when the veterinarian came and checked on me. When Rachel asked for the doctor's verdict, the man replied something about foreign substances in what I eat. "What did you feed him last night?"
Rachel showed him the can of cat food and I saw the doctor's eyes widened. "I think I know what caused your cat's stomach ache. This food here has a high content of science, science, science. Science, science..."
Or that's how it sounded to me, who didn't give a damn about human education. Why they're studying that much, I'd never see the reason. You see, we cats only learn three things: how to hunt, how to scavenge, and how to beg. All three are vital for survival if we want food or shelter, even if the last one is a bit degrading on our part.
To see humans taking up a lot of subjects and topics was something that any animal wouldn't understand.
I can see the brat was also confused. Meanwhile, Rachel, who somehow managed to understand all that technobabble, happily replied to the doctor's rambles. "Oh, I see. I'm so dumb that I've never thought of science, science, science!"
Geeks, I sniffed disdainfully.
"Ah, speaking of which," The doctor said. "What is your cat's name? I need to make an official clinical record for him for future references."
"Oh, um... actually, I have no idea," Rachel admitted, unabashedly. "My brother never stated his name in the papers, so..."
"Why not give him a name now? He is your cat, after all."
When I saw the brat smirked, I knew something bad was going to happen. Collins tugged at his mother's skirt and giving her his best puppy-dog eyes (I blanched at the sight. Brat has many ways to go before he can be as good as his uncle), he spoke in a clearly forced childish voice.
I winced, thinking that the two adults bought his little charade, but he can't fool me.
"Mom, why not name him Mr. Fluffles, just like that kitty cartoon on the t.v.?"
I hissed at him. Screw the brat. He knew I hated that sorry excuse of a show!
Rachel's eyes sparkled. Oh, hell no. "That's a great idea, sweetie! Okay. From now on, he will be Mr. Fluffles!"
Damn you all. The name is Schrodinger. S-C-H-R-O-D-I-N-G-E-R. The brat knows my name! If you can't pronounce my name right, just call me Schro. Over my dead body will I be called 'Mr. Fluffles' of all things!
While the doctor and Rachel were distracted, the brat smirked at me and mouthed, "You're going to lose."
I hissed at him more. I am not going to lose!
I lost. Badly.
It was bad enough that they named me Mr. Fluffles, but to put it on the official papers and get a degrading hot pink collar with that name on it? I'd be the laughing stock of my fellow felines!
I curse you, Collins. You are the child of the devil, I swear.
My only hope was John's opinion, but even he thought it was a cute name. John, you traitor. I'll get you, just you wait!
At least I had a consolation prize that made the brat sulk all day long. Apparently, John wanted to bring Collins to a kiddie fair and Rachel agreed. Hah. It made me feel a tiny bit better, since he was grumbling and being grumpy because of it. The brat yelled, complained, and kicked all he wanted, but nothing he did changed his mother’s nor John's mind.
We did go to that embarrassing kiddie fair. For serious, for real, we went to a kiddie fair. On one hand, it is the perfect thing to have a family bonding. On the other hand, John made Collins go to an embarrassing kiddie fair.
It's good that I couldn't talk, and it's good that I have a great poker face. Otherwise, there was no argument that this would end any way other than Collins trying to kill all of us (except Rachel) with a pout of doom and with him being eternally humiliated in the eyes of his peers. Heh. Kiddie fair. A fourteen-year-old boy in a kiddie fair filled with screaming hysterical toddlers.
This was even better than John, spoon-feeding extraordinaire.
This is good for me, too. It distracts me from my morbid little thoughts and gives me free entertainment to boot. If I wasn't bothering the brat or complaining about my life, I would find myself thinking of what-could-have-beens and looking around for Carter. I kind of miss that bastard.
Speaking of which, John was trying to coerce Collins to ride the carousel with him. People were staring at the lone teenager at the fair.
"I'm not going to ride that thing."
"It's not that bad, and Rachel often told me on how much you loved the carousel."
"That's the key word right there, 'loved'. I've grown out of that phase."
"I firmly believe your inner kid is still there."
"Stop embarrassing me."
"I'm not!"
"...I'll kill you."
"I'm just dragging you off to ride the carousel with me. God, you're bloodthirsty."
"I have a pocketknife and I'm not afraid to use it."
"Don't talk to me with that tone, young man, or I'll give you a time-out."
Hah, and they wonder why other people stayed away from us during the entire trip to the kiddie fair.
In the end, I thoroughly enjoyed my days with Carter's relatives. They weren't all that unbearable— even the brat, to some extent. In fact, they were downright funny and I guess... it's not hard to be fond of them. I can see why my owner cared in his own demented way.
Maybe living with them wouldn't be so bad.
That still doesn't change the fact that I hate the brat.
in connection to this, i bring you: more homeless Tsuna in BNHA world!
Tsuna's daily life had drastically changed.
He figured that it started a trend. For the past couple of weeks, he apprehended ten more muggers, stopped a few armed robberies, rescued a handful of women from sexual assault, foiled suicides, and even prevented a murder.
(He did it all whilst donning the same clothes the entire time, too.)
His Intuition still helped him find food and shelter, but it became more of a crime radar than a mere guide now.
Much to his dismay, his actions have garnered a small following.
It wasn't surprising that people would know about it, but he'd prefer to live in anonymity, especially since he was too busy trying to survive in the streets. But everyone else was, too, and no one helped them before he did. It's perfectly understandable that they were immensely grateful, more so his fellow homeless.
It's even more evident with the current state of the Heroics system. Sure, they still had prominent figures who were in it for the welfare of society like All Might or Ingenium, but most of modern Heroics were about entertainment, approval ratings, and publicity.
Since that was the case, not many heroes would go to the slums where media coverage was either limited or non-existent due to a lack of security measures or journalists' willingness to travel to a more dangerous area.
Hearing about his actions, people came to him not only to ask for help about a crime, but also to solve their disputes. The brunet became an arbitrator of sorts, where he's often called in to mediate between fights and at times, called in to stop criminals.
Of course, if there is a hero (albeit unofficial), there would always be a villain to oppose them.
Not long after, criminals began to target him deliberately. Some left him letters of challenges — "What is this, the Shouwa era?" Tsuna muttered — and many would call him out in the open to fight. He still didn't understand how people knew about them since the gangs confronted him in the seedier parts of the slums where no one would see.
It's a good thing that despite their superpowers — or quirks, as the locals called them — they were inexperienced fighters. They often relied on said powers and neglected to fully train their bodies or polish their techniques. The brunet could easily deflect their attacks and defeat them.
(Tsuna wondered how they could recognize him. I mean, his face was always concealed with the mask and the scarf.
Tanaka, the elderly owner of a nearby cafe, simply said, "You're the only one who owns such a gaudy scarf, sonny," and left him gaping as he turned away from the brunet.
He could only thank the heavens that only the citizens who live in their area knew it was him. Who knows what would happen if the local police or the heroes get involved?)
Tsuna would have been satisfied with that: helping others and halting misdeeds. However, unbeknownst to him, people began to think of him as the official go-to person in the slums; all of this happening in just a few months after arriving in this world.
So one day, a fellow homeless and without a single word, whisked him off.
"W-Wait! Who are you? Where are we going?" Tsuna protested, attempting to break free from the man's hold.
"You're the kid that stops crime," The man explained, after stopping in another alleyway. "I just wanted answers."
"What is it, then?"
The man simply huffed at him, finding his stance amusing. "Why'd you do it?"
"Why'd I do what?"
"We don't like it, but someone has to do it," The man said. "You don't have money, or food, or a home to go to. Kids like you should understand why we do such things — that we only do it to survive, so why did you stop them?"
The brunet creased his eyebrows. "You already have your answer. They only did it because they were desperate." He stared straight into the man's eyes, startling him with his sudden action. "It's the same with you. If you were given a chance to do it without resorting to crime, you would."
And that was that.
After their encounter, Tsuna did meet him again in the streets and the man profusely apologized to him, swearing to convince the others to try and do better.
He mentioned they still fell back to their old ways at times, but they were genuinely trying, and really, that was all he could ask for.
That wasn't the last time Tsuna got involved in such situations, though.
Have you ever thought of posting stuff on ao3? How come you don't post your other stories in ff sites?
I actually have an ao3 account… one that I only use to lurk.
I haven’t really posted any of my recent fics because I want to finish them first here on tumblr before transferring them. Also, there’s a high chance that I might cross-post them to both ffnet and ao3.
Why? Because I don’t want to put it out of my blog only to leave it unfinished like my old works so...
Which ones are going to get published? If I get to finish them, Boku no Time Travel (done, just needs polishing), Role Model (1 chapter left), Generation Segregation (2/6 done), Homeless Tsuna AU, and another BNHA/KHR fic (one-shot, Hisashi-centric).
Fairy Tale has a chance of getting reposted, too, but if I do, I might rewrite/continue it as a massive one-shot instead.
Might repost my one-shots and Phantom Sixth Man to ao3, too.
