This Ain't Good

A/N + Small Intro

Hi, this is the first time I've ever written a fanfiction aside from a few I wrote as a joke so I'm very nervous (kind of). Please tell me if I've made any mistakes or else I won't improve my writing quality as fast; be as picky as you like, give me all the constructive and non-constructive criticism you've got! I have written fictional stories and such before so I do have some understanding of what I should be doing, I'm just unsure on how well I can pull it off. I'll try be as accurate towards personalities as possible but I'm not Horikoshi, so I probably won't do it too well ':) I've got a plan, it's not super long but it's probably enough. I hope for the best and hope you might enjoy it, I mean, I must not have hated it if you've read this so uh, yeah.

Warning/s?

-Maybe gore-ish

-Abuse?

-Uh

Hey, future Author-sama here (it's the eighth of July, wow) I'm editing this bc I've entered the Wattys and all I know is that I should probably improve the crap I call text and literature, oof.

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Izuku was walking home after another laborious school day. His friend was being mean to him, teasing and pushing with occasional kick or punch. I wonder how his knuckles never sore and how his shoes never wear nor tear, it's truly a wonder. His friend was committing these minor crimes all to secure hissuperiority above the quirkless. Again. He tried to deny it, telling him that the doctor said he should develop one, a power so common in modern-day society it's ostracising when you're part of the powerless twenty percent. His general practitioner told Inko and Izuku that three years ago, that his very own individual quirk would appear, and to be frank, Izuku was just telling himself that. Four-year-olds develop quirks, not seven-year-olds. His school uniform was too thin for the weather, chilling his skin with further help from rush of the icy wind encompassing his small frame. Not even his clothes were warm, only his mother was since he was labelled quirkless by his peers. He kicked a pebble on the foot path as he continued moping home, mental state dreary as usual, all he wanted was a warm hug. He sniffed, his eyes threatening to spill salty tears as he stared at his sad, red shoes travelling along the dry, grey ground. Huh... Smells weird. He didn't take any notice of the air spewing blacks nor the darkened sky illuminated with flashing blues and reds. He trotted to his front door only to be stopped by a large arm. He looked up; red eyes ridden with confusion as to why some unknown man was keeping him from his house. Realisation flooded him, dams cracking and breaking, tear ducts brimming, sounds ringing in his ears. Sirens blaring, men shouting, heat breathing down his back, everyone rushing everywhere. Smoke ran through his throat, climbing into his lungs and stinging his already sore eyes. The large-armed man was panicking with a terrible poker face, putting his muscular hands on Izuku's hunched shoulders, shouting blurred sentences at him. Izuku looked from him to his and his mother's home, back and forth, up and down. The whole building, red and orange. Fire. His home. His mother. The man -whom he now believed to be his neighbour from two doors over- was still shouting at him.

"LEAVE!" He heard bits. "-ET SAFE KID!". And pieces. "THEY'LL GET HER, OKAY!?". Izuku unknowingly stepped back, inhaling the scene, inhaling the last sentence, inhaling more smoke. Fire fighters working hard, heroes trying their best, civilians -people he knew- fleeing from every which way. He saw everything, -almost- everyone. Izuku didn't know what he was doing, his seven-year-old body sped inside the crumbling, peeling building, scavenging every room for his mother. He was rapidly losing hope, until he reached what was her own bedroom, he saw Inko's scorched body sprawled on the floor unnaturally, clinging onto a box for what would've been her life. He ran in, unaware of the heat closing in on them. He pushed his mother over, tangled messes of green hair covering the floor, the smell of burnt human hair, skin, flesh and dirty vapour growing.

"WAKE UP! C'MON MAMA, THIS ISN'T FUNNY! GET UP!" Hot tears streaming down his face, something pulled him back, he was slowly dragged by his arms until he saw nothing but black smoke.

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First chapter, I was expecting it to be short anyways. I hope this peaks some interest in anyone. I'm expecting two views maximum from, like, two friends I share this with :') I literally have had this old draft sitting around for, uh, 2 months than I had an epiphany and started writing. Chapters from here on out WILL be longer, this was just a small intro to see if you're actually interested in what's happening even though very little has happened. Rest in peace Mama Midoriya, you die in too many fanfictions and now here too.

I'll try keep the A/Ns to a minimum because imo, they get annoying. (edit: oof, mission failed).

Thanks for giving this a chance or at least reading this small introduction to what will hopefully be a full-on fanfic.