Izuku Okkotsu: The Cursed Hero

Prologue Pt 2: A Unwanted Surprise

I don't own JJK and MHA.

Previously on...Izuku Okkotsu: The Cursed Hero

"Rika!" I shrieked, my voice torn from a place of primal anguish. Sprinting to her crumpled form, I dropped to my knees, cradling her limp body in my arms as the acrid stench of gasoline and burnt rubber assaulted my senses. Her raven locks were soaked with blood, vivid crimson blossoming across the delicate fabric of her dress.

Her eyes flickered open, emerald pools piercing deep into my soul. "I-Izuku," she croaked, a rivulet of blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. She clutched at the ring necklace with shaking hands, smearing scarlet across the metal. "N-never forget... our promise."

Tears streamed down my freckled cheeks as I clutched her closer; her warmth was already fading. "Please, don't leave me," I begged, my voice cracking with unbridled sorrow. "I can't lose you too."

Rika managed the faintest smile, her radiance dimming with each fleeting second. "You'll never... be alone." Her emerald gaze drifted, unseeing, as the last vestiges of life slipped away.

I howled in pain, my screams echoing in the empty streets as I clung to her lifeless body. The one light in my world, the tether holding me to hope, was brutally extinguished. At that moment, I felt the last fragments of my battered soul shatter, sending me adrift into a sea of darkness and despair.

From the depths of my misery, a sickly presence slithered toward me. It emerged from the blackness, viscous like sludge, its form ebbing and flowing in a liquid manner that was deeply unsettling. Its essence smelled of decay as if it carried the stench of rotting flesh.

The amorphous entity, despite being eyeless, seemed to regard me; its featureless visage imbued with an unnerving sense of awareness. From it emerged a low, rasping voice, and the words it spoke sent chills down my spine.

"Izuku... When ve're grrrown uuup... LLLet's bee maaarieed."

Revulsion and terror seized me as the foul creature reached out a ropy tendril that curled around my legs with a cold, clammy embrace. My face contorted in horror; my whole being recoiled from this grotesque aberration.

"It's a promise, Izuku."

6 years later. Age 16. July 15th, a week before.

It has been six long years since Rika died and transformed into a cursed spirit. I can vividly recall the day of her funeral - despite my tears, my face remained stoic and emotionless throughout the entire service.

I had reached a point where I no longer cared about what was happening around me. Izumi and her friends had already made it clear where I stood in this unjust world of ours.

Aldera Junior High.

"Hey, third-years," the teacher called out to his students. "It's that time when you should start thinking about what you want to do with your future," he said, walking back and forth in the classroom. "I have these career forms for all of you, but," he paused, a glint of amusement in his eyes, "I know you all have big dreams of becoming heroes!" Then he playfully tossed the forms into the air.

The classroom was filled with a resounding "Yeah" as the majority of the students eagerly showed their agreement, each with their unique quirks. However, a small group of five individuals remained noticeably silent, their expressions conveying a feeling of indifference or perhaps even arrogance, setting them apart from the collective enthusiasm of their peers.