Shattered Light: A Neglected Izuku Story

Chapter 11

I kept my head down, my hoodie casting shadows over my face as I walked through the crowded streets. The bag from the pharmacy weighed heavy in my hand, filled with antidepressants, stimulants, and other pills to keep me awake and alert. My body screamed for rest, for just a moment of reprieve, but I knew better. The moment I closed my eyes, the nightmares would come—the screams, the pain, the unending torture. No, I couldn’t afford to sleep. Not now, not ever.

The city around me was alive with activity. People rushed past, too caught up in their own lives to notice me. Just another face in the crowd, just another shadow in the night. That was how I preferred it. Staying invisible, unnoticed. It was safer that way.

As I walked, the noise of the city faded into the background, replaced by the quiet hum of my thoughts. The pills in my bag were just another tool, another way to keep going. But I knew they couldn’t fix what was broken inside me. They couldn’t take away the pain or the memories. They were just a bandage, covering up the wounds that would never fully heal.

My thoughts were interrupted by a flash of color from a nearby restaurant. I glanced up, my eyes catching on the large TV screen inside. The volume was up, and the news anchor’s voice was clear even from the sidewalk.

“Breaking news: The vigilante known as Nemesis has struck again. Reports are coming in from across the city about a violent confrontation at a known criminal hideout. Authorities have confirmed multiple fatalities and significant property damage. The police are currently investigating the scene, but details remain scarce. What we do know is that Nemesis, a vigilante who has been active for the past two years, is believed to be responsible for the attack.”

The screen shifted to footage of the destroyed building, smoke still rising from the wreckage. The camera panned over the shattered walls, the broken windows, the bodies covered in sheets. It was a scene of utter devastation, and yet, it was nothing new to me. I had seen worse. I had caused worse.

“The identities of the victims have not yet been released, but sources indicate that the hideout was used by a notorious gang involved in human trafficking. This is not the first time Nemesis has targeted such operations, and his methods have drawn both praise and criticism from the public. While some see him as a necessary force in a city overrun by crime, others argue that his actions are reckless and dangerous.”

The anchor’s voice dripped with concern, but I could hear the underlying tension in her words. She didn’t know what to think of me no one did. A hero? A villain? Something in between? The lines had blurred long ago, and I no longer cared where I stood.

The screen cut to an interview with a police spokesperson, a middle-aged man with a tired expression. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days probably hadn’t, given the state of the city.

“We’re doing everything we can to apprehend this vigilante,”

he said, his voice firm.

“But Nemesis is highly skilled, highly dangerous, and seems to operate with no clear pattern. We urge the public to remain vigilant and report any suspicious activity to the authorities.”

His words were met with nods of agreement from the news anchors, who quickly turned the conversation to a panel of “experts” discussing the implications of vigilante justice. I tuned them out, my gaze shifting to the people around me.

A group of teenagers stood near the entrance of the restaurant, their faces glued to the screen. They were whispering to each other, their eyes wide with excitement.

“Did you see that? Nemesis is insane! He took out that whole gang by himself!”

“Yeah, but he’s, like, a total psycho. Did you hear how he just kills people? That’s not what a hero’s supposed to do.”