Izuku Midoriya has a lot of unresolved childhood trauma; after all, if you had gone through what he has, you would too. It all started when he manifested his quirk. Napalm Breath, it was a stronger version of his dad's quirk, but Izuku didn't get the memo.
A small house in the suburbs. If you asked the neighbors, they'd tell stories of an amazing family: a caring mother, an amazing pro-hero father, and an adorable son. Unfortunately for them, that changed fast.
It was a beautiful July day and Izuku's fourth birthday. After they ate lunch and some cake, they would go to the quirk doctor to get him diagnosed. He was happy; any kid would be in his position. He was seated in front of a cake with four candles, his mother and father across from him, recording him. He took a deep breath.
And out came a stream of flames. He still remembers the smell—the horrible smell of gasoline and burning flesh. He remembers the sounds, the screams as his parents were burning alive, and the beeping of the smoke detector. Every time he closes his eyes, he still sees the scene. The only things left of his parents were a pile of ash and his father's throat.
But this isn't where most of his issues came from; no, once he was on the street, no one cared. They all told him that the heroes would save him and that once a hero showed up, he would be safe. And to their credit, a hero did find him and take him in. It just wasn't the right one.
Cut to a hero patrolling
As I walked under a bridge looking for a villain who had escaped me, I saw a small boy with orange hair. He breathed in and started breathing fire in a circle around himself, curling into a ball. He would be perfect for my son's training; he may even be able to be a hero as well. He looked to be homeless, so I walked up to him. "You, boy," he said, looking up at me, a sudden look of realization coming over his face. "Do you have a family?"
"N-n-no, sir." He seemed to know I was a hero, but he didn't know which one.
"Do you know who I am?" I attempted to appear kinder than I was, and it worked.
"You're here to save me?"
"Of course I am. Now come on, let's get you out of here." I smiled at him.
Unfortunately for Izuku Midoriya, that hero was number 2, Endeavor. Izuku was trained alongside Endeavor's son, Shoto, for the next 10 years of his life. He despised the training, but he couldn't bring himself to despise the man who saved him. He wasn't allowed to leave the house. That was fine, as long as he had a house. He wasn't allowed to eat with the rest of them. That was fine, as long as he had food. The first time he had seen someone other than Shoto and Endeavor was during the UA entrance exams. Endeavor had him go through the standard entrance exams.
"AND YOU THERE!" Izuku looked up, as if looking to see if he was the one being called upon. "YES, YOU, WITH THE ORANGE HAIR! IF YOU ARE GOING TO SLEEP AND NOT TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY, THEN LEAVE!" Izuku just put his head back down. Endeavor taught him to ignore this kind of person.
Later, when they were at their test site, he started producing napalm through his pores and gathered a large amount in his mouth. "AND GO!" He spit out the napalm in his mouth as he clicked his teeth, which were made of flint. and produced a spark, which then produced an explosion when it hit the napalm on the ground and his body. He was flaming as he was propelled through the gate. He went into a battle frenzy; he didn't remember any of the exam, just that he destroyed and melted a lot of robots.
"Nezu, what's going on with that one?" A tired-looking man in an observation room asked.
"Ah, that is... Izuku Todoroki. That is strange; I would think that Endeavor would've put him through recommendations like Shoto Todoroki." A bipedal mouse responded.
"I want him in my class regardless of what he gets; we need to stoke that flame of ambition." This appeared to shock the others in the observation room.
At the end of the exam, he had 237 points. A new record, he even destroyed the zero pointer. He was getting into Class 1A.
753 Words
End Chapter 2
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Dreams of Cruelty
Fanfiction"One would shudder to imagine what inhuman thoughts lie behind that mask. What dreams of chronic and sustained cruelty"
