Chapter Text
Midoriya Izuku hasn’t had an easy life.
He’s a dreamer in a world where dreams can come true. He has a heart of gold and the spirit of a hero, but according to the doctors, he wasn’t going to be one thanks to an extra joint in one of his toes. Deemed as quirkless, his life went from bad to worse since that moment.
His mother couldn’t do anything for him. She could only cry and hug him, asking for forgiveness when Izuku didn’t need that. He tried to surpass every obstacle to achieve his dream of saving people with a big smile, but the world itself seemed to disagree with him. That would be the only reason he crossed paths with Bakugou Katsuki, his personal nightmare.
Still, he tried to surpass him too. Izuku tried to ignore every mean comment, forget and forgive every injury the blond caused to him. He tried to fool himself about how everyday it was getting harder to get out to bed, go to a school where no one liked him, were the ones that should protect him failed him over and over again… His mother was probably the only reason he kept trying. Her and his childish dreams, fueled by the amazing power and the bright smile of All Might.
But today was enough.
There is a method that can let you be a hero…
He couldn’t do it anymore.
…make a leap of faith from the rooftop and believe with all your might that you’ll have a quirk in your next life.
Almost ten years of enduring an unfair life. Almost ten years of mockery, of hatred when he didn’t do anything, of nothing but pain. He couldn’t do this anymore. He couldn’t pretend that everything was alright when nothing was fine, when his world was falling apart and no one but his mother cared.
He couldn’t…
He wouldn’t.
“A leap of faith?” He laughed bitterly to himself. He was alone in the classroom.
His body moved on his own, walking slowly towards the stairs. He couldn’t see well; the tears didn’t let him see properly. After crossing the door to the rooftop, his body was shaking.
“WHAT DID I EVER DO TO YOU?!” the scream tore his throat. It felt like burning. His mind was full of Kacchan, of his lackeys, of his teachers and the world itself.
He was choking with his sobs. The tears flowed angrily and his head hurt from crying. It wasn’t fair. He never did anything wrong to him. Neither to his classmates nor to his teachers. He was a dreamer boy and that was all. Why did everyone hate him for that? Why couldn’t they leave him alone? What was so wrong about dreaming?
Without noticing, he was by the edge of the rooftop. It was a long fall. No one was around to see him.
That was good.
“I’m sorry mom,” he said, looking the sky. He was wondering how long it’ll take for someone to find him. “I love you.”
And he let himself fall.
The air was nice, not warm but not chilly either. It was almost as if the air around him was embracing him lovingly. It was something silly to think while you were falling to your certain death, but he was oddly at peace.
He was going to end this.
The crash with the ground was instant. It was one short instant where he only heard a loud crack, like something breaking loudly (similar to a thick branch breaking from a tree) and then darkness enveloped him, death coming quicker than he could have ever imagined. Faster than falling asleep. Almost painless.
If anyone was at the school grounds by that hour, they’d have found the dead body of a student. He was not really recognizable at first glance; his whole body was broken, bend in unnatural angles. It was like every bone in his body broke with the impact and blood splattered everywhere. His eyes were open, fixed and unfocused. His uniform was torn apart, all the white covered with dirt and blood. He had let himself fall from the rooftop, getting away from the world that rejected him for not being like everyone else while still daring to dream.
Oh, what a cruel world.
However, as we already know, life is unfair. Even for the dead.
Less than a minute after the boy died from the crash to the ground, invisible black dust emerged from the body. It was like dreamsand, but completely black and with a density that was abnormal. It poured from every wound and covered his whole body, and suddenly the fixed, unfocused green eyes were focused again and Izuku took a large gasp of air, breathing erratically while regaining his senses.
It took him a moment to start moving, quite in shock.
He looked at his hand, splattered with blood. They weren’t shaking, not yet. His breaths became shallow with every passing moment and slowly, he stood up.
His clothes were a mess. Blood and dirt were everywhere. His mind was blank, still trying to process what the heck just happened.
Izuku looked up to the sky and the last memories came rushing to him.
He jumped from the rooftop.
He killed himself.
He threw up and then started crying, feeling sick. His mind was a mess, clear memories of what just happened and the state of his clothes were proof enough that he succeeded in his attempt of suicide.
Then how was he alive?
After breathing deeper and giving himself a couple of minutes to calm down (not being quite successful, but at least he could avoid throwing up again) he moved his body slowly. He wasn’t hurting in any place; in fact, he felt healthier than ever. Even the weariness of insomnia and depression was erased from his body.
This was impossible.
He just jumped from a building, for god’s sake!
Feeling panic rise again in his chest, he tried to stop it from coming but was failing. With a shaking hand he took out his phone from his pocket. It was completely shattered and useless.
Wait. What time was it?
“…My mom’s going to freak out so much,” He said out loud, looking at his ruined clothes.
With his mind as blank as he could, panic eating him alive and a drenched notebook nearby, he retrieved his notebook from the little pond and returned to the building to change to his P.E clothes. He’d look ridiculous, but at least there wasn’t any blood on it. After changing, he found his forgotten backpack in his place and started to slow walk to his home.
He had to toss his bloody uniform somewhere. Thank heavens he had a spare one at home, a bit old but it would work.
The walk home was weird; it felt longer and shorter than ever at the same time. Even more, he wasn’t able to focus on anything. He barely remembers tossing his uniform in a large trashcan a few blocks back, but actually wasn’t sure of doing it.
He stopped in front of the door, suddenly doubting.
Checking his backpack, the uniform was gone.
“Well…” He shrugged. It was hard to care about anything now.
He opened the front door, kicking his shoes off and hearing pots clacking. The smell of something brewing would have been appetizing any other day, but not now. Not today.
“Mom! I’m home!” he greeted, taking a large coat to hide his P.E clothes and hoping she’d be too busy cooking to notice him. His voice sounded a bit flat and fake to his own ears, but deep down he hoped his mother wouldn't notice.
“Welcome back, Izuku. How was school today?” her voice was cheerful as always, thankfully, and he couldn’t even wince at her question.
He was about to answer, dragging his feet over the floor, wanting nothing but to lock himself up in his room until dinner. However, a weird shadow that was too big to not notice called his attention and when he got near to see what it was, all he could do was scream.
“Izuku? Izuku! What’s wrong?!” His mother appeared in her apron, freaking out by her son’s scream.
In front of him, next to the TV, looming in a slenderman-ish way was a dark, tall, ghost-mummy thing without face.