Izuku-The surgeon of death

Chapter 7- Start of a plan

Third Person POV

Izuku felt lighter as he descended from the rooftop. There was no joy in the decision he had made, only a calm, steadfast resolve. For the first time in years, he felt as if he was on the cusp of something new, something that would free him from the web of hurt, neglect, and abandonment that had defined his life.

As he walked through the bustling school hallways, the noise of laughter, gossip, and conversations faded into a dull hum. He was barely aware of the dismissive glances from classmates or the brief flash of annoyance when he bumped into someone without an apology. None of it mattered anymore. Today marked the beginning of his plan to carve a path for himself, alone.

During class, his mind drifted to the details he had carefully mapped out. If he wanted a fresh start, it wouldn't be as simple as walking away. No, too many loose ends, too many people who would either try to pull him back or undermine his efforts. He needed to disappear from their world, not just physically, but in every sense.

The question was: how?

The answer came to him as he thought about the last place he'd felt any true comfort. Before everything had fallen apart, back when he was still just a kid with dreams of becoming a hero, and still intended to, besides all the training he had done over the years he'd also spent hours at the library, immersing himself in tales of great heroes, studying their paths, their choices, their transformations. He remembered every story about those who had risen from nothing, facing obstacles greater than their limits. Those stories had shaped him once, and now, they would be the blueprint he would use to guide him again.

As the bell rang for the end of the school day, Izuku stood up, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He made his way through the crowd, heading toward one of his old refuges-the library. There, hidden away from the prying eyes of classmates and teachers, he would conduct some more research and prepare the last stages of his plan. This time, however, he wouldn't be studying for heroism. He was studying for survival.

Once inside the library, the familiar scent of old books and ink hit him, bringing a wave of nostalgia. His fingers brushed over the rows of books as he moved toward the back corner, where fewer people ventured. There, surrounded by shelves and silence, he opened his notebook and began to jot down ideas, his pen moving quickly as thoughts flowed from his mind to the page.

He listed the steps he would need to take, the precautions necessary for a complete departure. The key was to keep everything under wraps until the moment he was ready to act. Nobody could suspect anything. Not his teachers who probably would not care his classmates who would be the same as the teachers, and especially not his family.

Izuku paused, looking at the names of the few people he would have to confront directly: his mother, his sister, and father. They each held a place in his life, like anchors, but not in the comforting way that kept him safe. They had held him down, made him feel useless, and chipped away at his confidence at one point.

But Izuku knew what he had to do. He'd given them chances to reconsile with him They'd have their chance to understand his perspective, but he would no longer give them that chance

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow through the library windows, Izuku closed his notebook, satisfied with his plan. Every step, every action, every contingency-it was all in place. Now, all he needed was time. And patience.

Just as Izuku prepared to leave, the door to the library creaked open, and he instinctively shifted behind a shelf, not out of fear, but to avoid any unnecessary interruptions. He watched as Bakugo entered, scanning the room with an irritated frown, clearly searching for something or someone.

Izuku let out a quiet sigh, his patience wearing thin. He had no time for this. Yet, sensing that Bakugo wouldn't leave until he found him, Izuku stepped calmly into the aisle, deciding it would be faster to get this over with.

Bakugo's eyes locked onto him instantly, his expression hardening. "What the hell are you doing here, Deku?" he sneered, arms crossed. "Thought you'd be off sulking somewhere else."

Izuku kept his tone even, barely sparing Bakugo a glance. "I needed some quiet," he replied, his voice flat. "Don't concern yourself with my business, bakugo"

The casual use of Bakugo's old nickname seemed to throw him, and he bristled, stepping forward with a mocking glare. "Oh? You think you're somebody now?" Bakugo snapped. "Got a backbone all of a sudden?"

Izuku's face remained blank, his gaze indifferent as he looked through Bakugo more than at him. "Think what you want," he said simply, his tone void of interest. "But you don't matter to me."

For a split second, Bakugo's smirk faltered, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. But Izuku was already done with him, already moving past, focused only on his plans. He left Bakugo standing alone in the library, any response lost to the silence he left in his wake.

Once outside, Izuku took a deep breath, the cool evening air reminding him of the future he was about to seize. Every step away from the school felt like a step toward freedom. The details of his plan sharpened in his mind, blocking out any stray thoughts, guiding him toward the life he intended to create, untouched by anyone's shadow.