Chapter Text
In this world, there is the Earth, The Land of The Living.
Then you have the After...Island of The Souls.
Above that is the Beyond where the Divine entities reside.
And at last down Below, The Underneath where the Demons and Monsters suffer, as a consequence of unrighteous actions.
Many souls pass on to the After and others may go Above or Descend, but in some cases, souls are bound to the earth wether it be from unknown reasons to the abilities humans call quirks, this is how souls are formed into the things we call Ghosts.
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The day Midoriya Izuku returned from that no good doctors office was the same day he was diagnosed quirkless, when he walked out that doors he felt the air leave his lungs and throat tighten right along with his chest. Tears filled his eyes with emotions he couldn’t comprehend at such a young age. Was it Anger? Sadness? Disappointment? Embarrassment?
Whatever it was—Izuku didn’t like it...
All he knew was that it was the “damned toe-joint” that had ruined his life! The moment the news had spread—like wildfire at that—was the moment everyone decided his life was linear and laid out on a mat, for everyone to see and laugh at. It seemed like everyone knew how his life would end and they were just waiting for him to tip off the edge, and yet Izuku had no say in how it would go.
He could hear the whispers around town, he wasn’t an idiot! Some adults tried to let him down gently and treated him like porcelain glass, others gave no fucks and told him like it was, they told him how he wouldn’t last long just like the other gene-defect, barren, quirkless, nulls. They always told him he would eventually give up, later being found dead on a street somewhere.
All because they saw the way his shoes were made.
The kids in his life already gave him hell, and the Adults weren’t any better. When people saw his shoes they would up the price or kick him out the building, calling him slurs of the quirkless. Or when a kid saw those bright red chunky sneakers, they’d snicker with their friends and use him as a target for “Quirk practice”.
Many would give up and subsume into the stereotypes, but Midoriya Izuku? Well he’s not one to give up in a fight and admit defeat. So he kept going to prove them wrong, essentially living out of pure spite. With a big happy go lucky smile on his face and pep to his step, everyday he lived his life like nothing was wrong. He went about his day as if he wasn’t technically disabled and lived it to the fullest.
No matter the fact that his own Father and Best Friend betrayed him, not even pondering on the reality of his Mother giving up on him when he needed her the most.
Izuku remembered vividly of the night he cried endlessly while she hugged and apologized to him, time after time for something she could not give him, something they both could not control. Squeezing him tight and rubbing his back, both fearing for their future.
Recalling the nights his father would beat and smash half-empty wine bottles on his head, while his mother was at work, made his head spin. Little four year old Izuku learned to hold back tears in his eyes for a few moments, but they always broke loose and weakly poured down his face, the boy tried not-so-silently to ignore the burn as the alcohol made the wounds sting worse but whimpered trying to stay still, moving allowed the glass shards a chance to stab him and he was always already hurt enough.
So staying in a fetal position on the cold and bloody ground, he would be thinking of ways to become a hero without a quirk to ignore the pain just a little longer, before he passed out .
When his mother would come home to find her precious baby boy beaten an inch away from being in the grave, full of burns and bruises from her husband every day, she broke down at the sight of it every single time. She knew she was failing him as a mother and protector.
When the culprit was away she would bandage, wrap, and treat his wounds, laying Izuku in his bed to rest for the night. If he was still awake she’d spoon feed him something, and watch a movie with him till he went back to sleep. The Aggressor was in control she couldn’t do much and Izuku never blamed her for it.
Every few night his Father spoke drunken words giving him taunting and sarcastic ‘advice’ “A hero? You wouldn’t last a day on the streets as a vigilante!” The man said to his face, burping up the beer he has been drinking and smashing the can on his head. So at the ripe age of seven years old, he took it to heart with spite just like any other insult. And decided to be petty and started to help those in needs on the streets.
Izuku taught himself how to fight from YouTube videos and watching street fights, reading books on martial arts, weapons, and other things to help him with his new “hobby”. He wasn’t a pro right off the bat, hell no! The first time he tried a spinning kick he spun and almost cracked his head open falling, his first time throwing a kitchen knife he almost chopped his finger off, when he decided acrobatics and flexibility would help he tore his pants trying to do a split and slipped on a attempt of a back flip!
He improved over time and took up fighting on the streets when he was nine, now as a nine-year-old he obviously wasn’t a very good fighter despite his practice and got pretty fucked up on the streets—giving his mother a heart attack—it wasn’t that he didn’t have the form down it was just the lack of experience. If any cameras still have the tape of his first time trying to jump roof tops, you couldn’t believe how much he’d pay for those to be erased!
He knew his mother had an Idea of what he was doing, but she never tried to stop him from going out. Despite the many—many times he had almost died by facing a stronger opponent on the street, but he got through it.
Izuku’s morals weren’t the best per-say...he believed that disabling criminals was better than killing them, although that was only reserved for the lowest of the low, the scum worth nothing and did messed up shit for no reason.
Moving past that, protecting the people in need was the most important of all.
People started calling him Mini when he first started out, it was a dart to his height and horizontal size and most of all a term to underestimate him. After he beat a few skulls in and slashed a few heels he became known as Pluto, Roman god of the underworld, which is pure irony due to the fact that he’s nine and wears an All-might hoodie on patrol, with just a plain cotton clothe black face mask with simple green kitten facial features painted in it.
Honestly wonders how he hasn’t been damasked yet...
When Izuku was particularly in a bad mood he would capture and knock out villain scum that have done more heavy crimes... such as Rape, Murder, Abuse, Etc.
He would get his sharpest dagger and carve out their eyes slowly but in a damaging and painful way, as they woke up screaming, right before he cut out their tongue, then their nose, and lastly their ears.
Cutting off their other limbs such as fingers or toes one by one. Maybe even slicing out chunks of their face or taking off full limbs in one go, while worsening the pain by mixing alcohol and bleach and pouring it on their wounds.
He’d make sure they weren’t able to function ever again, that they’d be so unrecognizable their victims would be disturbed. Carefully making sure they didn’t die from their injuries so they could suffer for as long as they lived.
He marked his work with a small X carefully carved on their right shoulder.
See you wouldn’t know an nine-year-old could be dangerous until you woke up with no eyes or worse depending on what you’ve done.
When Izuku turned Twelve he began to finally be at peace, his father was imprisoned with two life sentences as the infamous villain ‘Flare’ by Underground Pro-Hero Eraserhead.
That was the day Izuku met the hero who—in his heart—was on par with Allmight, he dedicated his time to search for videos and information on him, and started basing part of his fighting style on him.
A few months after the justice he and his mother were severed (indirectly but justice nonetheless) he meet his Hero Eraserhead on patrol! ...Even though he was technically being chased down for illegal vigilantism and other charges...
At least they hadn’t connected him to his victims
Izuku’s only response to his supposed charges was, “I’m quirkless sir, by law I’m not a vigilante.” This didn’t work out the way he wanted it to as assault and battery applied to quirkless so, essential he was fucked. Not even a few minutes after he was pinned and damasked by Eraserhead. He heard the man mumble something about him being a “problem child” he flinched at it and now he patrols and fights alongside THE Eraserhead! ‘The one that saved him, his hero.’ Izuku smiled at that thought
It was only a month later when he met another vigilante named Siren who fights partially quirkless! It took them a few weeks to trust each other and get a long, but after they saved each others lives in that drug ring, they became a duo and met up every day at midnight to patrol together.
Pluto and Siren the fearsome Vigilante duo known as Lotus who’s also, Babysat accompanied by Eraserhead. A perfect title if Izuku did say so himself. Although they weren’t all that fearsome, they were thirteen and still needed help with math homework for crying out loud! But that didn’t stop criminals from dropping to their knees and accepting arrest when they saw the three.
Nothing was ever basic for Izuku anymore on patrol! During the day it was, go to school get beat, bullied, and suicide baited, go home help his mother through a drunken break down avoid getting hurt when she gets home from work, eat what little they had, go study, self-harm , then his favorite part putting on his all might hoodie and black face mask to go patrol with Siren and Eraserhead!
Even if the first parts of his days weren’t the best...Patrolling was never dull!