One Punch Deku

A Hero For Fun

The sun shone on Musutafu, shining bright like any other day. The same sun a boy, lying on the ground–bruised and dirtied–stared at. He panted–having an emotionless expression on his face. His minor injuries weren't from roughhousing. He had slight burns and frost marks, as well as fresh bruises caused by blunt force trauma. The boy was young–around five years old–around an average height for a child his age. He wore small, noticeably red shoes, an orange shirt that had a large, buff man with blondish-yellow hair with a costume on, four freckles on each cheek, and bush-like, dark green hair.

The boy got up, looking upset that he was bullied. Powerless...

In a world full of powerful individuals, he was powerless. He was treated as nothing, considered nothing, was nothing. This is Izuku Yagi, the Boy with Nothing. His family turned their backs on them, his friends are the cause of his injuries, his life turned hell.

"I'm done with them," said Izuku. So he walked–presumably to his home.

* * * *

Little Izuku was writing in his notebook in his room. The room was clean and tidy, his bed was small and directly across from the door. The walls were littered in hero merchandise–mainly of a hero named "All Might". He had a desk beside his bed with a laptop in the work area.

In his notebook was, "Hero Training Regime". Under it was labeled–

One Hundred Push-Ups Every Day

One Hundred Sit-Ups Every Day

Run Ten Kilometers Everyday

No Heater in the Winter

No AC in the Summer

Izuku closed the notebook and tucked it with his other journals. He deeply breathed in and out before going into the push-up position. Up and down, up and down, up and down again, and again, and again. He struggled more so than the assault by his bullies. By the hundredth push-up, he looked like he was about to collapse. But his little heart wasn't fazed. He got into the sit-up position. Like before, up and down, again and again. His muscles felt like they were actively melting by the fibers.

Izuku, corpse-like, dragged himself down the stairs. He walked past the living room and the kitchen, both of which his parents were in–neither of them acknowledged his existence. He went out the door and dragged himself onto the sidewalk. After catching his breath, he started to jog. His jog turned into a light run. He ran past houses. He ran past buildings. Furthermore, he ran for hours. After running for said hours, he returned home–exactly Ten Kilometers. Izuku entered the house and went back upstairs. Once he entered his room, he turned off the AC and went to bed. This was going to be a long process, but to Izuku it would be worth it.

The day turned into two. Two turned into a week. The week turned into a month. The month turned into a year. The year turned into years. Izuku went from a little child in primary to being in his final year in high school. He trained every day for so long, he stopped training when he got into high school. He moved out of the house to live with his best friends, a change he held greatly. Not only that, but he trained to fight. But after some time, he felt...nothing. His bullies continued to bully him, but he couldn't feel their attacks anymore. They weren't getting weaker, rather the opposite. He just became too powerful.

* * * *

It was a normal day at Aldera High School. Students sat in their homeroom, waiting for the day to start. Amongst these students was Izuku. He sat quietly in his seat whilst having an emotionless expression. Coincidently, some of his bullies were in his class as well. They all stared at him, contemplating why he was like this. But they proceeded to ignore him. After a few minutes of students socializing, the door opened by the homeroom teacher. Students then went to their seats as the teacher went to the front podium with a mountain of papers in his arms.