Unforgivable - A Betrayed Deku Story

Chapter 1

??? POV

Who am I?

Many who come across my supposed atrocities ask this question, not ever receiving a sufficient answer, while many do manage to get the opportunity to question me directly.

They don't receive a satisfying answer either.

You see, every single time I'm presented with this riddle by another, I can never tell them what they want to know, and it's not even as though I don't want to. Regrettably enough, I couldn't come up with the answer myself.

I've pondered this thought many a time on my own throughout the years I spent on the streets, but nothing of value was discovered for a conclusion.

Was I hero? Certainly not. The prestigious high-school I once attended made that ever so clear to me.

Was I a vigilante? I couldn't say for sure. There were multiple occasions where I've shown my face, and many know my name. Even when I'm sporting my iconic mask, I'm easily recognizable. Given that, I'm no secret, at least, as far as hidden crime fighting citizens are concerned.

Was I a villain? A fitting and worthwhile question, indeed. I did commit violence on a rather abnormal scale, but I only acted either in self defence, or upon those I deemed worthy of death. I simply refused to maim those who I deemed still deserving of moral praise.

Perhaps I never wanted to admit it, as the title wasn't the most appealing to the average passerby, but if I jumbled those different aforementioned qualities together, there was something that I, as well as my, significant other, I suppose, would deem as sufficient enough.

A virtuous monster, so to speak.

That's terrible, isn't it? Who in their right mind would ever want to identify themselves as a monster? It just didn't sit right, but as I patrolled the late-night streets of Japan more and more often, that detestable truth settled upon me.

It's why I still question myself to this day. I still look long and hard, for a more enviable occupation to consider myself one who takes part in.

Nevertheless, I didn't find my answer. I didn't come up with a false truth. I simply learned to reside in reality.

At least...

At least it was a livable reality.

...

Third Person POV

"C'mon kid, get up." A guard at Tartarus prison worriedly ordered a shirtless teen, who was leaning against the stone wall. The rocky surface of the wall opposite facing him was covered in large cracks formed by the adolescent, who seemed to have thrown a flurry of punches over the duration of his stay.

The kid looked up, seeing the mildly fearful face of his escortee. He smirked, knowing the source of the guard's fear was his own brutal reputation. Although he was regarded as a pillar of strength and an exemplification of "no fucks left to give", he knew complying was most likely the smartest option, as it was evident that his mother wasn't the one visiting this time.

On any occasion that Inko Midoriya would visit him, they told him outright at his cell. This was already different, and it made everything just a little bit more interesting.

Following the guard, he was led to a place inside the prison in which he wasn't familiar with. It seemed to be a proper interrogation facility, with chairs on either side of a large pane of glass, acting as a barrier between each side, contrary to the empty room he would be in whenever he was allowed time with his mother.

The guard motioned for him to sit down, to which the emerald haired teenager reluctantly did as he was instructed. He looked into the opposite side of the glass, and noticed that there were 3 chairs, contrary to his and the one beside him, most likely for the guard, who'd yet to take his seat.