Alright guys, I once again apologize for deleting the story but this this time I've tried to make it a good story. And just letting you guys know that, I'm rewriting all the story.
This will the new and improved version of the previous story. Let me know what you think.
—Author
For Izuku, the genesis of his tale is marked by loss – the death of someone dear. In a modest dwelling, amidst the hushed whispers of memories, a boy with verdant hair stands before a cherished photograph, a toy clutched in his small hand. His gaze lingers upon the image, the figure captured within its frame a poignant reminder of happier times. Yet, before he can utter a word, a presence materializes behind him – a man, whose gentle smile seeks to soothe the boy's sorrow.
"Hey kid, are you okay?" the man inquires, his voice a beacon of warmth in the somber room.
The boy's response is hesitant, tinged with grief. "Y-yeah. I'm okay."
The man's eyes twinkle with affection as he kneels beside the boy, a gesture of understanding and solace. In the gentle cradle of their conversation, memories unfurl like delicate petals, revealing the love that once bloomed between them.
"You know, your grandpa adored you more than your sister," the man confides, his words a balm to the boy's wounded heart. "He even said he loved you more than his own daughter – your mom."
A fragile smile graces the boy's lips, the weight of his loss momentarily lifted by the man's loving reassurance. Yet, as the man fumbles through his jacket, a tangible reminder of affection emerges – a book, its pages a repository of untold stories and whispered dreams.
"It's a book that your grandpa wanted to give you as a present when you turned four," the man explains, his eyes alight with reminiscence. "But..."
Before he can finish, the boy's gaze fixates upon the book, his fingers tracing the faded letters etched upon its cover. "I am Solderet," he murmurs, the words a quiet affirmation of identity and legacy.
Yet, the tranquility of their moment is shattered by an unexpected intrusion – the hurried footsteps of a familiar voice, calling out the boy's name. With a start, the boy turns towards the sound, only to find his mother standing in the doorway, her concern palpable.
"Izuku, what are you doing here by yourself?" she inquires, her voice tinged with worry.
As the boy's gaze flits between his mother and the man beside him, a sudden realization dawns – the man is gone, leaving behind only echoes of his presence. Confusion clouds the boy's features as he struggles to comprehend the inexplicable disappearance.
Whack!
A sharp pain blossoms at the back of the boy's head, jolting him from his reverie. With a start, he finds himself seated in a classroom, surrounded by jeering classmates and mocking laughter. Caught off guard by his sudden return to reality, the boy stammers an apology to the bemused teacher, his mind reeling with disjointed fragments of memory.
***
As the final bell tolls, signaling the end of another day's lessons, Izuku could be seen diligently packing his bag. With practiced efficiency, he arranges his belongings, ensuring that each item finds its designated place. Yet, amidst the mundane ritual of tidying up, his fingers brush against the book gifted to him by his late grandfather, a cherished memory of their bond.
Just as Izuku's hand hovers over the book, poised to return it to its rightful place within his bag, fate intervenes with a cruel twist. In a flash of movement, the precious relic is snatched from his grasp, leaving him momentarily stunned. Before he can react, a searing explosion erupts against his face, propelling him backwards with force.
