Izuku

Trigger warning: Attempted Suicide

The wind howled around me, a mocking echo of the turmoil inside. Below, the city sprawled, a tapestry of twinkling lights that held no warmth, no solace for someone like me. I gripped the railing, knuckles white, the rusted metal biting into my skin. Bakugo's words, sharp as shards of glass, reverberated in my head. "Take a swan dive off the roof and hope you get a Quirk in the next life!"

He hadn't meant it, not really. But the casual cruelty, the years of relentless bullying, had finally chipped away at the last vestiges of hope. I was useless, Quirkless, a burden. A nobody.

Just as I leaned forward, ready to embrace the oblivion, a swirl of dark mist erupted beside me. It pulsed, solidified, and opened into a swirling vortex of purple and black. Before I could even scream, I was falling, not towards the cold, unforgiving concrete, but into the swirling abyss.

Darkness consumed me.

When I finally regained consciousness, I was lying on a stained couch in a dimly lit room. The air was thick with the stench of stale cigarettes and something else, something vaguely… sinister. I sat up, disoriented, my head throbbing.

Around me, figures stirred in the shadows. A gaunt man with chapped lips, scratching violently at the skin around his neck. A girl with ashen hair and disturbing yellow eyes, giggling softly to herself. A hulking, bird-headed monstrosity that radiated an aura of silent menace. And at their head, a man whose face was obscured by a disembodied hand, his red eyes piercing through the gloom.

The League of Villains. I recognized them instantly from news reports, flickering images on stolen television screens. But what was I doing here?

The man with the hand spoke, his voice raspy and unsettling. "You're awake. Good. Kurogiri… explained the situation. An interesting development."

Kurogiri, the portal-wielding villain, materialized beside him. "He simply… appeared. A fortunate acquisition, perhaps."

They talked about me as if I wasn't even there, a discarded toy they'd found on the street. Fear coiled in my stomach, cold and constricting.

"What do you want from me?" I croaked, my voice barely a whisper.

The hand-covered man smiled, a chilling, unnatural expression. "Want? We simply offer you a place. A purpose. Society has discarded you, hasn't it? Treated you like garbage. We understand that feeling. We offer you… family."

Family? These were villains, criminals, murderers! But the desperation clawing at my insides was hard to ignore. I looked around at their faces, each etched with a unique brand of pain and resentment. They, too, had been rejected, ostracized.

I swallowed hard. "What do I have to do?"

They didn't ask me to kill, not at first. Just to observe, to learn, to become one of them. I helped with small tasks, cleaning, running errands, anything to prove my worth. I trained with them, honing my endurance, learning basic combat skills.

And then, one day, it happened. I was sparring with Dabi, the villain with the scarred, patchwork skin, when a surge of energy coursed through me. My hands ignited, flames erupting from my palms, burning bright and hot.

Ignite Flame. My Quirk. It had been dormant all along, waiting for… what? This?

The League was ecstatic. They had a new weapon, a new asset. They began training me in earnest, teaching me to control my flames, to channel my anger and frustration into raw power.

I became a villain. Izuku Midoriya, the Quirkless nobody, was dead. Now, I was Ignite, a fiery force to be reckoned with.

Years passed. The League's influence grew, their attacks becoming bolder, more devastating. I rose through their ranks, my power a terrifying spectacle. I was no longer the bullied kid on the rooftop. I was strong, powerful, feared.

But the hollowness inside remained.

Then came the day that shattered the fragile illusion I had built around myself. We were attacking a city block, sowing chaos and destruction. I was lost in the heat of battle, unleashing my flames with abandon when I saw him.

He landed with a thunderous boom, the ground cracking beneath his feet. The number one hero, the Symbol of Peace… Katsuki Bakugo.

He was taller, broader, more imposing than I remembered. His face, hardened by years of battling villains, was grim. His eyes, those familiar crimson orbs, blazed with a righteous fury.

He hadn't seen me yet. He was focused on the other villains, blasting them away with explosive force. But then, he turned, his gaze sweeping across the battlefield, and locked on mine.

The recognition was instantaneous. His eyes widened, his mouth forming a silent "What…?"

His mask cracked, his carefully constructed persona momentarily shattered. He saw not a villain, but the ghost of the boy he had tormented, the boy he thought was dead.

I froze, my flames flickering. He was perfect. The definition of a hero. The definition of what I WASN'T.

"Deku?" he managed to choke out, his voice laced with disbelief.

The name, once a stinging insult, now sounded like a painful echo from a life I had abandoned.

"It's Ignite now," I growled, trying to regain my composure. "And you… you should have made sure I was dead."

Rage replaced the shock in his eyes. He launched himself at me, a fiery projectile of fury. "You think you can just throw your life away and become one of them?"

We clashed, our powers colliding in a blinding explosion of fire and explosions. His attacks were relentless, precise, a testament to years of dedicated training. Mine were wild, fueled by pent-up rage and a desperate desire to prove myself.

"Why, Deku? Why did you do this?" he roared, dodging my flames.

"Because nobody cared!" I screamed back, unleashing a torrent of fire. "Because you were right! I was useless! But now… now I have power! Now I matter!"

He blocked my attack, his face contorted with anger and… something else. Pity? Disgust? I couldn't tell.

"That's bullshit! You were never useless, Deku! You just… you just couldn't see it!"

His words stung, a bitter reminder of everything I had lost. The potential I had squandered, the hero I could have been.

The fight continued, a brutal ballet of destruction. We were evenly matched, our powers canceling each other out. But I could feel myself tiring, my control slipping. He was stronger, more disciplined. He was a hero, and I… I was just a villain.

Finally, he managed to disarm me, knocking me to the ground. He stood over me, his chest heaving, his face a mask of fury and disappointment.

"It's over, Deku," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Give up."

I looked up at him, at the hero he had become, and the resentment inside me boiled over. He had everything I had ever wanted. He was loved, respected, admired. He was everything I would never be.

"Never," I spat, channeling the last of my energy into a final, desperate attack.

But he was ready. He dodged my flames, seized my arm, and slammed me against the ground. The force of the impact knocked the wind out of me.

He stood over me, his hand raised, ready to deliver the final blow. But then, he hesitated. He looked down at me, his eyes filled with a complex mix of emotions.

"I don't want to do this, Deku," he said softly, his voice barely audible above the crackling flames. "But you're not giving me a choice."

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and prepared to end it all.

But then, something happened. A portal opened beside me, a familiar swirl of dark mist. Kurogiri.

"Time to go, Ignite," he said, his voice flat and emotionless.

I saw the conflict in Bakugo's eyes, the struggle between his duty as a hero and his… whatever it was he felt for me.

I seized the opportunity, scrambling through the portal just as Bakugo lunged for me. The world twisted, blurred, and then… darkness.

I was back in the League's base, lying on the stained couch. The others were gathered around me, their faces a mixture of concern and curiosity.

"You okay, Ignite?" Toga asked, her yellow eyes gleaming.

I didn't answer. I just stared at the ceiling, my mind reeling. I had faced Bakugo, the number one hero, and lived. But at what cost?

I was a villain, forever separated from the life I could have had. And the worst part was, a part of me knew that Bakugo had been right. I wasn't useless. I had just been too afraid to try.

Now, I was trapped, bound to a path of destruction and despair. And I knew, with a chilling certainty, that our paths would cross again. The hero and the villain, forever locked in a tragic and unavoidable conflict. A conflict fueled by regret, resentment, and the impossible dream of what could have been.