Chapter Text
Midoriya Inko moved through her silent house, a smile on her face as she dusted and cleaned it. There wouldn’t be so much as a speck of dirt on anything as long as she could help it. Today was a special day, after all.
She just had one more place to clean…a room with an All Might nameplate on the door. In big, bold letters, the name Izuku spanned across the length of its surface. She took a deep breath as she turned the doorknob and entered the bedroom that had once belonged to her only son. All Might merchandise was plastered over every inch of the walls, and practically everything had something All Might related on it.
On the bed was a single framed photo of Izuku, surrounded by beautiful flowers. Inko smiled at the sight of her son’s grinning, freckle-dusted face. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she fought them back with a murmur of, “It’s already been eight years, hasn’t it? It’s been so long…”
Today was the eighth anniversary of her son’s disappearance.
“What crappy job are you gonna make me do today, Shigaraki?”
In a small, dim bar, several villains sat on barstools. Behind the counter was a villain that appeared to be nothing more than dark purple smoke wearing a bartender’s getup. The group of villains glanced back across the bar towards the figure of a teenage boy slouched in a chair.
This boy had green eyes, green hair, and freckles dusting his cheeks. His eyes were dull and glassy, scars and band-aids scattered across his face. Forearms wrapped in bloodstained bandages were crossed loosely across his chest, brows lowered in a glare locked on the silver-haired villain covered in hands.
“You’re gonna target a few prospective Yuuei students. We can’t have them growing up to become more shitty heroes.” Shigaraki muttered, tossing an envelope in the boy’s direction.
He caught it out of the air, then pulled the photos out. He felt a pain in his chest when he saw them. If he’d gotten into Yuuei like he’d always wanted, these would be his classmates. Possibly even his friends. One of them was a boy with half-red-half-white hair and a burn scar over his left eye. The second was a photo of a girl with her black hair tied back in a spiky ponytail. The third…Izuku swallowed. The third was his childhood friend, Bakugou Katsuki. He hadn’t changed much. He still had that arrogant scowl, teeth bared in a wide grin, explosions coming from his palms. Names were scribbled on each of the photos, Shouto Todoroki, Momo Yaoyorozu, and of course, Bakugou Katsuki.
“I’ll deal with Todoroki and Yaoyorozu. I’m not killing the blonde one.” Izuku replied, his tone threatening.
Shigaraki laughed coldly. “What, is that an old friend of yours, Rabbit?” Izuku narrowed his eyes.
“Drop it.” Izuku snapped.
“If you don’t kill him…what’ll happen to your mother?”
Izuku stiffened, his breath hitching in his throat. His blood ran cold, his shoulders stiffening as the ever-present buzz of invasive thoughts in the back of his mind began to grow louder. He bit his lip in silence for a few seconds before sinking into resignation and mumbling, “…fine.”
“Then get your ass moving.”
Izuku rose to his feet, feeling his ever-present Zippo lighter bouncing in his pocket.
After being abducted and manipulated into becoming these villains’ lapdog, Izuku had developed his quirk. He’d been thrilled at first to find out that he could redirect and resize fire, but that joy had quickly been clouded over by the realization that his quirk would be used to hurt people.
Once again, Izuku silently asked why it had been him. Why had a quirkless runt like himself been taken away from a normal life and thrust into…this. This waking nightmare that never ended. As he walked out the door, he glanced at the photos again. These three didn’t deserve to die. He knew their quirks were likely wonderful, and they didn’t look like mean people (other than Kacchan, that is).
Izuku pulled up his rabbit- eared hood and brought the muzzle-like metal mask over his face. With a hint of excitement, he thought to himself,
Maybe they’ll go ahead and kill me.
“You know, you should really loosen up.” Momo said in a teasing tone, elbowing Shouto in the shoulder as he walked alongside her.
“Why?” He sighed.
“Because you walk around with that deadpan expression on your face all the time and it makes people avoid you. You should smile once in a while.”
Shouto let out another heavy sigh. He and Momo Yaoyorozu had been friends for several years, and she always insisted on Shouto cracking a smile. He didn’t see the need. He wasn’t really that happy about anything at the moment, anyways.
“Like I keep saying,” He muttered, “I don’t see the necessity in it.”
Momo didn’t argue anymore, which Shouto was grateful for. She knew where to draw the line, and she never pushed it. She was his only friend, and a damn good one at that.
They continued to chatter about trivial things, such as the weather, what movies Momo thought Shouto should watch, and the like as they walked casually down the busy sidewalk. They were relaxed, completely at ease with the world.
Which was exactly why Shouto was so shocked when there was the distant sound of a Zippo lighter, followed by an intense heat radiating from behind the two of them. Shouto spun around just in time to see screaming pedestrians leaping out of the way of a wall of flame. On instinct, Shouto and Momo ducked to the side. He was surprised to see how the flame moved like water, dripping and changing size as if alive. Droplets of flame spattered the sidewalk at their feet. Shouto hissed through his teeth, glaring as the fire changed direction and hurtled directly towards himself and Momo.
They didn’t notice the tact with which they were ‘herded’ backwards into a sidestreet until a masked figure stood in the entrance to the alley.
Shouto glared. It was a boy, probably around his age, dressed in a green short-sleeved hoodie and sweatpants. He had bright red shoes, a metal mask, rabbit ears on his hood, and bloodstained bandages around his arms. He was surrounded by liquid flame, a zippo lighter held in his right hand.
Shouto immediately sent a wave of ice towards the boy, who flicked his wrist in a horizontal motion. The flame moved like a worm, slamming into the ice horizontally and shattering enough of it to prevent being frozen himself. Shouto braced himself, looking directly at the boy’s eyes. He couldn’t tell much, and the boy remained as silent as Shouto was.
“What the hell is going on with this guy?!” Momo spat from Shouto’s right.
She’d created a shield and was working on creating a weapon, her eyes focused on the strange assailant. As Shouto opened his mouth to respond, the boy’s shoulders drooped and his head lowered. He began walking closer, the massive worm of flame shrinking in size before their eyes.
Still, Shouto wasn’t taking any chances, casting a sidelong glance at Momo, who gave a tiny nod. She moved in from the boy’s left as Shouto ran at him dead-on. This time, Shouto reluctantly used his flame, blasting a fierce column of it straight at the boy. The boy perked up immediately, his worm of flame vanishing as he turned his body sideways and extended a hand towards the inferno that rushed towards him at breakneck speed.
Shouto watched, mystified, as the boy managed to redirect the fire as easily as if he were dancing, his feet sliding lightly across the ground and his body moving along with it. The flame slammed into the wall directly above Momo, shattering the wall and throwing debris down over her. Shouto was distracted momentarily, but she managed to dodge most of the rubble. The bits she didn’t manage to dodge were easily deflected by her shield.
Shouto turned his attention back to the attacker, who seemed to be waiting for his next move.
This kid looks like he’s about the same age as me, maybe even a bit younger…how’d he wind up doing villain work?
Shouto straightened up, perplexed. What should he do about this? This kid fit the description of a young villain named Rabbit who killed silently. His quirk was redirecting and resizing flame, from the news reports. He couldn’t create flame himself, which explained the Zippo.
The boy raised his head a bit, taking a step forward. Shouto instinctively shot a burst of flame directly at him, but the boy didn’t redirect it this time. Instead, he flinched and tried to sidestep.
The fire burned the left side of his hood off, leaving the boy stumbling aside with a hiss of pain.
Shouto seized the opportunity, closing the distance between them in no time flat. He grabbed the boy by the collar of his hoodie, slamming his back against the wall. The boy bit back a cry of pain, briefly moving as if to shield his face from incoming blows, but his hands dropped to his sides.
“…hey.” The boy said in a voice devoid of…of any emotion whatsoever.
Shouto glared into the boy’s dull green eyes before noticing the emotions behind the corpse-like gaze. Fear, resignation, despair…nothing positive at all. His face softened a bit as he lowered the boy enough to let him stand on his own. Shouto kept his grip on the boy’s hoodie as he growled,
“Rabbit, right? The serial killer?”
The boy lowered his head, and in a brief spark of anger, he snapped,
“What the hell is wrong with you? Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
There was a long silence, and Shouto was vaguely aware of Momo approaching from behind. Shouto had almost given up on hearing the boy’s voice again until he said something that sent a chill down his spine.
“…can you just kill me now?”
“W-what?”
The boy raised his head again, his eyes filling with tears. Shouto was taken aback, briefly glancing over his shoulder at Momo, who shrugged with a confused look on her face. He glanced back at the boy, who had degenerated into full-on sobbing. Shouto was about to freeze one of his limbs, but thought about it again and chose instead to speak to him.
“Why are you crying? This is nothing new to you, is it?”
“I DIDN’T WANT TO DO IT!”
Shouto braced himself at the sudden shout, but the boy made no move to do anything. He just slid down the wall, grabbing at Shouto’s arms in desperation.
“I never wanted to hurt anyone, but I have no choice!”
“There’s always a choice, you know.” Momo’s voice came from over Shouto’s shoulder in a gentle tone.
“You don’t understand. I can’t escape.”
Shouto let go of the boy’s hoodie, kneeling down in front of him. This boy reminded him of himself as a young child. Yet…this one wasn’t hardened. Despite being under the control of villains—from what Shouto could tell, anyways—this boy hadn’t grown jaded. He’d just given up.
“We can help you.” Shouto said in as close a tone to ‘comforting’ as he could muster.
“No, you can’t. If I don’t kill you both, they’ll…and if I show up…”
The boy’s broken, dead eyes fixated on Shouto’s. His gaze suddenly changed at the drop of a pin, his eyes now hardened and cold as ice.
He took a breath, rising to his feet and fixing his stance. He let out a harsh laugh.
“What in the world am I doing? Crying? Stupid.” He said, an insolent smirk spreading across his face. He made his fingers into the shape of a gun and pointed them at Shouto.
“Watch your back, Todoroki-kun. I won’t be allowed to let you go a second time.” His green eyes flicked over to Momo, and he pointed at her. “You too.”
He turned around to leave, wedging his hands in his pockets along with the zippo lighter. Yet just before he exited the alleyway, he glanced over his shoulder with a somber smile. “Y’know, you should just focus on becoming heroes as soon as possible. That’s what I wanted to do, before…this. Come kill me someday, all right? That’s the only way you can save me now.”
Shouto took a step in his direction, opening his mouth to say something, but the boy, Rabbit, had vanished.