chapter 2 danm

It's been five months of nonstop training. I've been working on my ice quirk and made a decent amount of progress, but not as much as I would've wanted to be.

Even though I trained my quirk—how to control it and how to manage it without letting it freeze all over—I still didn't find the special effect it brings.

I looked around the playground I was training in. It was an abandoned playground, so nobody walked or passed through here.

I sighed, my hands shaking because of the cold, small spikes of ice forming around them. *Damn, my weakness is I can't use my quirk for more than 10 minutes without beginning to freeze.* My voice was shaky and annoyed.

I kicked a small rock. *Dammit.* How was I going to kill All For One if I couldn't even use my quirk for long without freezing?

I sighed, taking a deep breath. *Getting mad isn't going to make me stronger.* I sat down and looked at the sky.

I had to train harder to make this weakness of mine less troubling and find what that special effect was. Because I knew All For One wasn't weak, and it wasn't just him I'd have to worry about—the League of Villains too.

I got up and walked forward. *My hands should be fine; it's been three minutes already.*

I placed my hand down and froze the whole playground into ice. *Well, seems I made progress. When I first tried this, I could only freeze half of this park.*

I looked around, seeing the trees and broken swings frozen.

I stabbed the floor, taking back the ice. The whole place returned to normal. *I should get going before Riko yells at me again.* I turned around and walked away, hands in my pockets.

I needed to learn how to fight without my quirk and find out more about it. I had to—for *them*.

I arrived at the orphanage and walked in, seeing kids already eating food and talking to each other. As soon as I stepped in, my name was called.

"Alex, come here."

It was Riko. I knew she was going to lecture me or something.

I walked to her. "Yes, Mrs. Riko?"

Riko looked at me, her eyes stern and concerned. "You're late. I told you to get back here before 5:30."

I looked at her calmly. "I got busy." My tone was dismissive.

"Watch that tone, young man, or you won't be going out for a week."

My eyes widened in annoyance. I clenched my teeth, my eyes getting colder. "You can't do that. I have to train."

Riko looked at me softly. "You're only five years old, child. I don't know why you're training so much for no reason."

I looked down, getting even more annoyed, but I knew I had to calm down. I took a deep breath and let it out. "You're right, Mrs. Riko. I won't come late again."

She smiled. "Good. Now go eat."

I walked away, going to the line where we got our food. In front of me were three kids older than me—twelve-year-olds named Kenji, a tall boy with goat horns, black hair, and black eyes; Haruto, shorter than Kenji with bat wings, messy hair, and black eyes; and Takeshi, who could breathe fire out of his mouth.

Takeshi looked at me with a smirk. "Aww, would you look at that? Ice boy got in trouble again."

Both Kenji and Haruto laughed, smug expressions on their faces as they looked at me.

Kenji came up to me and pushed me. "Yeah, he thinks he's special because he has an ice quirk."

I looked up at him, my eyes emotionless and calm, my face blank. "Don't push me, asshole."

The three boys looked surprised by my words and how I still had the same expression. I turned to leave, having lost my appetite, but I felt a hand holding my shoulder tightly.

I turned my head to see it was Kenji. "You know, losing people doesn't make you special."

My eyes flashed with anger, and I slapped his hand away—but as soon as my hand touched his, it froze immediately.

Kenji's eyes widened in fear, and he backed off. "H-Hey! What did you do?!"

A flash of surprise crossed my face but was quickly replaced by the same emotionless stare. "You shouldn't have touched me." My tone was cold and uncaring.

"Alex!"

I turned around to see Mrs. Riko with a stern and serious look. "What's the meaning of this?"

I looked at her, my face unchanged. "It's called self-defense." My tone was calm and collected.

Riko looked at me, shaking her head. "Self-defense from *what*? Him touching your shoulder?" Her tone was stern and serious.

I looked at her. "Yes." My tone was uncaring and cold.

Mrs. Riko's eyes widened in surprise at how indifferent I was being. The kids in the room looked shocked too. I could hear whispers—*"What's wrong with him?"* or *"He doesn't seem to care."*

Mrs. Riko regained her composure and looked at me sternly. "Alex White, go to your room and don't come out for a week."

I just looked at her and walked away, my eyes showing small signs of annoyance. *Great. Now I won't be able to train.*

---

### **Time Skip: A Week Later**

During that week, I stayed in my room, working out—doing pull-ups and sit-ups every day.

Today was Friday, my last day of being punished. Mrs. Riko walked in, her old eyes looking at me with concern and sternness.

"Morning, Alex," she said gently but firmly.

I looked at her calmly. "Yes, Mrs. Riko. What do you want?"

Riko walked up to me and sat down. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

I looked at her and nodded. "Go on."

She sighed, taking a minute to look down as if preparing herself. "Kid, you've been acting different, and I thought it was just for a few months, but I was wrong."

She looked up at me. "You're not the same boy I knew. You barely talk to the other kids—you're just cold and uncaring."

She took a deep breath, her eyes gentle. "All you do is train. Why do you keep pushing people away? We all got hurt that day. You're not the only one."

I looked down at her, my eyes unchanging and emotionless. I clenched my fists. "You wouldn't understand."

My tone grew colder as memories flashed in my mind—All For One holding Sakura and throwing her aside like she was nothing.

"Don't *dare* compare me to you guys. You were never there. You never saw what happened... what *he* did. Don't you *dare*."

I walked away, slamming the door behind me. I could hear her calling my name, the kids looking at me with confusion, some of the older ones with annoyance.

But I couldn't care less.

I walked out of the orphanage, catching a bus to the hospital to see *her*. Over these months, there had been changes—her body wasn't as skinny, she wasn't going in and out of comas anymore, and there was a possibility she'd be discharged soon.

The bus stopped, and I walked out, seeing the hospital—big, painted white with red accents. People were coming in and out, some in wheelchairs, some injured, some just walking.

I walked in, and the receptionist pointed me to my mom's room. When I arrived, I stood there for a minute before opening the door.

She was watching TV—news about a villain who had escaped during transportation to prison. I ignored it and looked at my mother. Seeing her made me smile unconsciously.

"Hello, Mom."

She looked at me and smiled gently, motioning for me to come. I walked to her, sitting next to her and resting my head on her lap. She began brushing my hair softly.

"There's something on your mind," she said matter-of-factly. She always read me like an open book.

"No, nothing's on my mind. Anyway, when are they going to release you?"

I didn't want her to worry about my problems. I'd rather face them myself.

"You're lying. What's the problem?"

My eyes widened in surprise for a second before I stayed quiet, wondering if I should tell her—about my desire for revenge, about wanting to kill someone.

"You wouldn't understand, Mom."

She stopped brushing my hair and looked at me softly. "I would. But I won't force you to tell me."

Her blue eyes met mine before she kissed my forehead.

I wanted to tell her, but I couldn't. How would she react to her five-year-old son planning to kill someone out of revenge? She wasn't ready yet.

"You should go. It's late."

Her voice broke through my thoughts. Right. I looked outside—it was nighttime.

After saying goodbye, I began walking back to the orphanage, passing people and cars in traffic.

But as I walked past an alleyway, a hand pulled me inside, throwing my five-year-old body deeper into the darkness. Luckily, I didn't break anything.

When I got up, I saw a man with a knife, dressed in all black. He had broken eyes and orange hair. He smirked.

"Sorry to do this, kid, but give me everything you have."

I looked at him, my heart racing, but my face remained composed.

I couldn't fight this man. I'd get killed. Even with my quirk, I was still five.

"I don't have anything. I'm just an orphan." My voice came out shakier than I wanted.

The man looked disappointed and frustrated.

"Well damn, kid. Guess you die then."

My blood ran cold, my body shaking slightly.

*Die?*

Was he serious?

He couldn't be serious… right?

The man walked toward me, knife in hand.

"No hard feelings, kid. But if you don't have anything, I'll just sell your body parts to someone on the dark web." He smirked.

I began backing away in fear. Even though I had the mind of an 18-year-old, seeing a knife—remembering *that's* how I died in my last life—made me feel weak and helpless again.

As the man got closer, I panicked, my heart beating rapidly.

*No. I can't die. Not like this. Not before I—*

In that moment, I looked down. I was going to die again without getting my revenge.

Memories of being stabbed flashed through my mind.

*Not again.*

I whispered, looking down in defeat.

But as I sat there, accepting my fate, my mind went back to Sakura and Hinata—their smiles, how Sakura used to annoy me about heroes, Mrs. Hinata's happy and gentle expression, and the day I lost them.

Something began to happen.

I stopped shaking.

My eyes turned emotionless and cold—eyes a child should never have.

I looked up at the man. He stopped, staring at me with surprise.

### **The Man's POV**

As I got closer to this white-haired kid to stab him, he seemed to have lost hope. That made me happy—even more excited to cut him into pieces.

I walked slowly on purpose, letting the reality of his death sink in.

But then his body stopped shaking.

When he looked at me, my blood ran cold.

The expression in his eyes—those dark gray eyes—weren't a child's.

It was like *death* was staring at me.

The air around me turned freezing, just like his gaze.

*What the hell?*

### **Alex's POV**

I saw the man stop, looking at me with wide eyes.

*Fear.*

I got up, brushing myself off.

"I'm tired of this bullshit."

The man backed away.

### **The Man's Thoughts**

*Am I really looking at a kid right now?*

*Whatever. I'll kill him with my Knife Quirk. He won't survive—he's just a kid.*

His face twisted into a smirk. "What are you gonna do, exactly, *kid*?"

He pointed his hand at me and shot a knife from his palm.

It moved fast, but seeing the attack, I stomped the ground, creating an ice wall.

The knife shattered through it easily, stabbing my shoulder.

I grunted in pain.

*(Damn it. His knives cut through my ice like nothing.)*

The man chuckled. "You thought your little ice quirk would stop my knives?" He smirked cruelly. "Don't worry, kid. Your body parts will make me a lot of money."

He prepared to shoot another knife, but I stomped again, freezing another ice barrier.

Seeing this, he just smirked and fired.

The knife broke through, hitting me in the chest.

I coughed blood, falling to my knees in pain. But I placed my hands on the floor.

*(Come on… come to me…)*

The man walked toward me, creating another knife, rushing to stab me.

The moment he got close—just a swing away—I froze the floor, making him slip forward into ice spikes.

He fell face-first into them.

I took a deep breath—

Then a knife stabbed my leg.

I looked down in surprise. A knife was sticking out of his forehead.

"Did you think I could only create knives from my hands?"

He pulled himself up, chuckling. "That was a close call."

He looked at me coldly.

I fell, the knife still in my chest. I didn't pull it out—I knew I'd bleed out.

"Well, kid, been fun facing you."

He shot another knife straight at my head.

I closed my eyes—

Then, as if time froze, my left hand was covered in blue marks, spreading from my palm to my neck, eyes, and left leg.

My left eye turned light blue.

The knife froze midair, turning to ice.

I stood up, brushing myself off.

The man's eyes widened.

*"What the hell?!"*

He stared at me in shock.

"Who *are* you, kid?"

I looked at him with calm, disgusted eyes.

"Who I am is none of your concern, pathetic human."

The voice that came out wasn't mine—it was uncaring, ancient, and carried the weight of someone feared and respected.

The man's eyes widened.

*(Whatever this kid is now… it's not human. It's powerful.)*

He began shooting knives, but I just stood there. The knives froze before reaching me, turning to ice.

"Pathetic."

The being controlling my body raised an arm, and an ice spear shot toward the man, stabbing him in the chest.

It kept going, flying out of the alleyway.

The being moved a finger upward, and the spear shot into the clouds.

Then—*snap*.

The ice exploded, freezing the man's body before shattering into pieces as it hit the ground.

The being put its hands in its pockets.

"Why would someone this pathetic have *my* quirk?"

It turned its gaze inward.

"You better train, brat."

The marks faded, and I collapsed into unconsciousness.