Chapter Text
Let it be said that Midoriya Izuku does not want to hurt people.
Not even when he was the one being trampled, bullied, and abused.
Not even once did he wish the same thing to happen to them, or to let them taste their own medicine; because that is how selfless his heart is.
He just genuinely wants to be a Hero. A hero that people can rely on. A hero someone can look up to. He wants to protect – fiercely, at that – and to keep people safe.
There are days, though, when evil thoughts fester, wanting to root in his mind, that his abusers too deserve whatever hurtful shenanigan Izuku would do to them. God, he tries so hard to keep these thoughts at bay, to never let it consume him, and well, most times he succeeds. Keeping them tamed like a lion in a cage. Its presence is there, but never forcing him to act upon.
There were some days that he was hopeful that the universe would help him and some poetic justice would be served. Nothing happened.
There was a time that Izuku believed that this is how things really were, how the world turns – never batting an eye to those who are in pain. That this is the reality he was born in and has to face a million times over.
Did he lose hope? Not exactly, but there was a time that he was getting there. To just ride the massive waves and drown.
Midoriya Izuku felt like a cornered animal with nowhere to go, a prey watching the bared fangs of its predator, waiting to bite him at any given moment.
He was treated like he was weak, frail, fragile human being ready to break – all because he wasn’t as lucky as everyone and wasn’t bestowed a quirk.
And he was breaking.
But not because he was weak. Or frail. Or fragile.
He was breaking and losing his mind over people being the absolute shits that they were, acting high and mighty just because they were born lucky.
And God how he wished to tear this ugly society down to its very core - which he absolutely could, thank you. It was hardly about quirks; what happened to being a decent human with morals?
Well, he’s not one to ask because he, too, even in his Quirkless glory, was crazy about it too. But not crazy crazy like the world revolves around it, just a... fascination. One thing he knows for sure, with the assumptions Gran Torino beat out of him, quirks are just tools and a part of your arsenal to be used.
Now, as he stares back in those crimson eyes, to the explosive person stomping towards him with a condescending smirk on his face, he feels as if a predator has tracked him down, poised to tear him to the bone.
He doesn’t feel scared. He doesn’t feel like a prey. He doesn’t want to be a prey anymore.
He feels invigorated as he watched the looming figure nearing his approach.
“I’ll finally beat you and it’s not some half-assed victory, Deku. Maybe you’ll finally realize that you’re below me,” declared Bakugō Katsuki, loud enough for all the people present to hear. A permanent scowl is on his face but he looked so, so smug that for the first time in a long, long time, Izuku wanted to wipe it off from his rival’s – no, abuser’s – face.
Something snaps inside Izuku’s mind.
And no, he definitely was not going insane. But he now finds himself contemplating the idea of letting people taste their own medicine.
Maybe this time, he’ll be the predator.
Fixing his tie, he looked up, head tilted shaft-style to stare back at the explosive man. He cleared his throat, and laced with venom and spite, he spits out a retort.
“Let’s see you try, hero.”