A Drop of Evil on The Great Capitoline Wolf

Intro

Note: this is going to be a very dryly written chapter, for the most part. I want to get the backstory out of the way as quickly as possible. Just stay with it for one or two chapters. They are also long (5000 ish words), if people want I can split them up I just have them that long on Ao3. TW at the bottom.

'I wonder how it will feel to be gone...' One step to the ledge. Feet slipped a little on painfully rough concrete.
'Not a burden to anyone. Not having to constantly make up for my lackings. I'm so tired...' Wet socks chilled his feet to the bone. Numbing them to the coarse building ledge.
'I just want it to all be over. I'm so tired. So, so tired. I-I can't keep doing this,' Izuku Midoriya looked down to the secluded back alley. How street signs and neon lights from across the street shimmered on harsh cold-black ground.
'No matter what I do, I can never get better. They-they won't ever want me... need me...' A deeper, much darker part of him thought, '...or love me.'
'I just want to escape from it all...' the wind blew rain sideways. Almost crystal like rain stung the boy's face.
'I can't even cry anymore. I really am... less than human,' a part of him is telling him, yelling at him that it's all not true. That he had a place. A very defined one at that.
'Only as a place of a stress reliever. That was the only thing I was good for.' he reminisced on his life. Just how uninfluential it had been.
'I've gotten really good at makeup though...' he thinks bitterly.
He looks down at the ground. Longing for its impact. For the instant of relief. Of relaxation, finalization, fixation, and death. For everything to finally be secure.
'It's funny, even as I'm staring right where I will land. I still don't feel anything. No sadness, fear, or even remorse. I'm ready for this to be over,'

He left no suicide note. He didn't see a reason for something so subhuman to be able to give any closure to anyone. The disappearance of dirt off of a driveway never upset anyone after all.
'It will be the same with me. I will lay there forever, maybe become some good fertilizer for plants,' Another wave of dizziness and  grief swept over the young boy.
He felt his balance shift.
Stutter.
Then finally, wind blew through his messy spring forest-green curls. He tipped head first, hoping for it to be over before he even knew it. He was even with the falling rain, being ripped down with it by gravity. All a falling necessity, feeding the Earth with her own children.
A heavy breeze lifted him to his feet. Even while falling feet first, awaiting the inevitable blazing hot pain to come from a non-instantaneous head shot, he didn't care. He was too tired to care. Only wanting to sleep. To finally sleep.

He hit the ground. Hard. Pain shot up through his ankles to his spine, neck, and the back of his head. His wrist stung from bracing his impact on instinct. Blood pooled from the back of his head.
But even with pain, the boy simply couldn't feel anything.
'Maybe I'm a sociopath or something. Huh. Maybe he blasted out everything from me,' still, the destruction of the pain stopped him from thinking too much. He was relieved for that.
But, God, it hurt. Worse than any blow or blast sent his way. Pain he never thought he could ever imagine. His mind struggled for consciousness. His instinct told him that if he succumbed to the release at that moment, he could die.
He closed his eyes, but death never came. No bright light, grim reaper, or demon from hell grabbing him. He didn't even feel like he could sleep if he wanted too at that moment.

So he laid there. No tears or emotion coming from him. He layed in agony and numbness for hours. No one came. Just as the boy planned.
The pain never went away. But it was so boring to Izuku. To just lay there. His mind was just preoccupied with the pain enough to not be able to wonder anywhere else, but just conscious enough to know that he was bored. He wasn't coherent enough to do anything about it.
Adrenaline shoots through him like bullets. In waves, numbing the pain slightly with every wave.
Even with the pain, he never cried out. He never called for help. All he wanted to do still was just cease to exist.
From birth to death, life was nothing but a race. A race to get out of the birth canal, to get the best grades, the best job, house, family, retirement, and finally death at the end.