Chapter 4
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Bakugo pulled his foot back and gave Izuku one last glance before the door was slammed in his face. He stood there for a moment, glaring at the closed door before walking away, frustrated and a little pissed.
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As summer break drew to an end, Izuku stayed indoors most of the time, only venturing out for groceries or brief escapes from the suffocating emptiness of his house. On the last week of summer, something happened that completely changed his view of heroes.
While walking down the street, he overheard a heated exchange between Endeavor and his son, Shoto Todoroki.
"You're not like them; you're my masterpiece. Remember, you must surpass All Might and become the next Number One Hero," Endeavor barked.
"But in order to accomplish that, you must use your fire quirk," he added coldly.
"I'm not like you," Shoto spat back. "And I'll never use your quirk."
SMACK!
Izuku froze as Endeavor slapped his son across the face, leaving a vivid red mark.
"We're leaving. You have more training to do. Let's go, Shoto," Endeavor commanded sharply.
"Go?" Shoto retorted angrily. "What, are you afraid the reporters will see what you do to your own children?"
With that, Shoto stormed off, heading in the opposite direction of his father.
"SHOTO! GET BACK HERE!" Endeavor shouted, his voice echoing down the street.
As Shoto walked past, his furious eyes briefly locked with Izuku's. For a fleeting moment, neither said a word before Shoto turned and continued on his way.
Izuku stood frozen, dazed by what he had witnessed. His hands clenched into fists, and before he could stop himself, he slammed his fist into a nearby wall.
"Damn it… again, I was useless. Once again!" he muttered angrily, raising his fist to strike the wall again.
But before he could, a black card slipped out of his pocket and landed on the ground. He bent down and picked it up, staring at the white number printed on it. After a long moment of contemplation, he made his decision.
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Izuku went home, treating his bloodied knuckles from the wall's impact. After cleaning and bandaging his hand, he grabbed his phone and hesitated for a moment. Then, with trembling fingers, he dialed the number on the card.
The phone rang once… twice… three times before a robotic voice answered:
"The number you have dialed is out of ser—"
Before it could finish, Izuku hung up with a bitter chuckle.
"Of course… what did I expect?" he muttered.
As he turned around mid-sentence, he froze. Standing behind him was the man in the black suit with the shadowed face.
"I'm glad you decided to call, Izuku Midoriya," the man said calmly.
"H-How did you… When did you—"
"I promise everything will be explained later. But first, I must ask you a crucial question," the man interrupted in a serious tone.
Before Izuku could respond, the shadowy man raised his hand, and a purple mist engulfed them both.
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When the mist cleared, Izuku found himself in a dimly lit room resembling an underground bar. The only noticeable difference was how empty it was—completely devoid of life, save for two figures.
One was the shadow-faced man, and the other was someone with shoulder-length blue hair and hands covering his body, including one obscuring his face.
"Is this the boy you mentioned, Kurogiri?" the blue-haired man asked, his voice laced with irritation. "He looks pathetic."
"This is Tomura Shigaraki, our leader," Kurogiri introduced. "Welcome, Midoriya Izuku, to the League of Villains."
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Kurogiri's voice turned serious. "Before we go further, I must ask you this: are you willing to leave your current life behind? Once you join us, there's no turning back."
Izuku stared at the shadow-faced man for a moment before clenching his fists tightly, his nails digging into his palms. Blood trickled down his hands, staining the floor below. After a moment, he nodded resolutely.
"I'm ready."
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"Decay and teleportation," Izuku muttered, his eyes locked on the two men.
"What do you mean?" Kurogiri asked curiously.
"Your quirks… Decay and teleportation, right?" Izuku said, his voice trembling slightly but laced with excitement.
"That's correct. I understand how you figured out mine, but how did you deduce Tomura's?" Kurogiri asked, impressed.
Tomura tensed, his fingers scratching the already red, raw skin on his neck.
"There were multiple signs," Izuku began, his tone steady. "First, when he drank, he stuck out his pinky finger. At first, I thought it was out of politeness, but I noticed he did the same thing when scratching his neck or touching anything else. Second, the hands on his body—they don't look like they were cut or burned. While the gold substance at the ends obscures most of the details, I noticed a corner of the table missing. It had a decayed look, and the pattern matched the texture of the hands. It was just a theory, but you confirmed it."
"That's… impressive," Shigaraki said with a hidden grin.
"Does that have something to do with your quirk?" Kurogiri asked, intrigued.
"No, not exactly. It's something I used to do with heroes. I've collected books filled with information about them over the years. If that's useful to you, feel free to use them," Izuku offered excitedly.
Kurogiri nodded. "That would indeed be helpful. I'll retrieve them later."
"You still haven't told us what your quirk is," Kurogiri added, watching him closely.
Izuku's excitement vanished, replaced with hesitation. "W-Well… you see, the thing is… I don't have one."
"What do you mean?" Kurogiri asked, confused.
"I'm quirkless. I don't have a quirk," Izuku admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
Kurogiri's expression didn't change. "A blank slate, then. That's actually better—we can work with that."
"Wait… you're not upset?" Izuku asked, surprised.
"Midoriya, how would you feel about receiving a quirk?"
"W-What do you mean? I… I could have a quirk? How is that even possible?" Izuku asked, a mix of excitement, fear, and hope flooding his voice.
"Yes, it's possible. But it's your choice. Be warned—the process may change you physically and mentally. There's also a risk of death," Kurogiri explained.
Izuku thought deeply. The idea of finally having a quirk was tempting, but the risk of death loomed over him. Then he realized—if he died, no one would care.
"I'll do it," Izuku said firmly.
"Good," Shigaraki replied, a grin spreading beneath the hand covering his face.
"Before we proceed, you must prove your loyalty and willingness to leave your past behind," Kurogiri said.
Izuku straightened. "What do I need to do?"