Grim

Prologue

Is it bad that I can't find the courage to stand?

Three pairs of black school shoes. Their owners, quiet and still. They all stand around me not saying anything. Even their breaths were quiet and sharp. I laid my back against the cracked wall behind me still looking down. That's all I ever see in a person nowadays, I look down at their feet and nothing else. I probably look pathetic to them. I'm not sure how they found me here, it probably was accidental. They wouldn't go out of their way to find me. I should have just gone straight home.

One of them takes a small step back then kicks dirt in my face. I rub my eyes which feel like fire on my skin. I hear all three of them slowly start to walk away laughing. They didn't even give me the courtesy of knowing why they cornered me. They could have said if I was in their way, or if they just had the displeasure of thinking about me before they did this, maybe- god. This time they said nothing.

Nothing at all.

...

I got home soon enough. I had already cleaned myself off and sat down on my bed. Mom was out getting dinner so I just had to wait until she got home. It was too quiet for me here. I can't believe they said nothing to me, they just hit me for no reason. No evil plot, they didn't even come looking for me. They just did it without reason. At least most people have a reason to hate me, whether or not it's my fault they at least tell me why they don't talk to me or come near me. I lowered my head into my hands. My elbows resting on my knees. It was quiet for a while. I felt..odd. My body felt like it was letting go of my mind. The quiet went from nothing too loud. I wanted out. I stood up swiftly and ripped off one of the all Might posters hanging on my wall. I stood there looking at the space my now ruined poster used to take up. I gripped it in my hand as my feet began to feel heavier and heavier with each step. Soon enough all my posters were torn off the walls. The figures were pushed off the shelves. Years' worth of notebooks were left scattered on my bed.

I didn't want this. Why was my name cursed the second I was labeled quirkless, making anyone ill at the thought of me. Kacchan. The fact we could have been friends, the fact we were friends. But I just- I just didn't have a quirk. All Might was the only one I thought would believe in me. All Might. I haven't even talked to him, I don't know him and he doesn't know me. He-. Tears started streaming down my face. I miss being a kid. I miss when no one could prove to me that I couldn't do anything. I think that's changed a bit.

I could hear my mom open the front door, walk past my room, and put her bags down on the counter. I wiped my face, she's been getting more and more worried about how I'm feeling lately. I go to the living room where she's sitting on the couch watching a news channel.

"Hello dear, how was school?" She asked.

"It was alright, what's on the TV?" I looked at it, it's an interview with a newer pro hero. Haven't seen a lot of them on the internet. Don't recognize their name or outfit.

"There was a villain attack a bit ago, all that scary crazy stuff you watch a lot." She laughed to herself. "Well, they're talking about one of those people that aren't really heroes but still do hero-like things. Do you know the word?"

Honestly, I completely forgot about that kind of work, haven't thought of it since it was a bigger deal a couple of years back.

"Yea they're Vigilantes. They use their quirk illegally to do hero work."

"Well that sounds even riskier, doesn't it? Why deal with both villains and police?"

"There's a lot of reasons someone would choose to be one, most of the time they-" The TV cut me off, the hero being interviewed started bringing up the vigilante's quirk which always gets me to shut up if it's interesting enough.

"The only known parts of their quirk are that it can cause others to fall to their knees for an unknown amount of time, during the fight it seemed to range in how long it lasted depending on the person. However even after the effects of the main part of the quirk wore off, a light would surround whoever their quirk was used on. The light was very blinding, to say the least." The hero laughed to himself.

They started to wrap up the interview as mom and I started getting ready for dinner. The vigilante and their quirk stayed in the back of my mind during and after eating. It's usually uncommon for a vigilante to willingly support heroes due to different beliefs or just a common dislike to heroes. I personally don't agree nor disagree with vigilante views. I haven't seen enough about them to know, however, this one vigilante seemed to spark my interest more so than I thought it would. Once I got back to my room after talking to my mom about the day, I began looking up this new vigilante. They seem to be making an impact with their quick action to villain attacks, people are even straight-up calling them a pro. I made a new tab and logged into a website I hadn't looked on in a while. It's an uncommon one mostly for researchers and pro heroes discussing recent events. Lots of info has been found just from this website, I'm honestly very lucky to have gotten on this website. I joined one of the chat rooms that were talking about this vigilante.

"I hate when I see a vigilante that has the potential but then wastes their time putting themselves in danger. As a hero myself it is such a lifesaver to have other colleagues having my back." One of the anonymous chatters commented.

I sent in a question "Do you know this vigilante's beliefs? They could just not agree with the choices of heroes."

"Well, they tend to have heroes come along with them into fights so I highly doubt they would do something like that if they disagreed with our beliefs. They are just a child so I would see it as even more unlikely since usually people their age don't think about beliefs and society. Honestly, I think they're just bored."

What.

"Wait, throw that by me again? How old are they?" My heart was beating out of my chest.

"Well it's just a rumor but most people say they're around 15 or older."

I swung back in my chair. 

"They are 15," I said to myself. I held my hand on top of my head as I stared at the ceiling. I was in disbelief.