Boku No Hero Academia One Shots [Book 2]

Izuku Midoriya

Requested by: I-need-u-girl

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Japan was an island, surrounded by water. However, the lack of a suitable amount of reserves was slowly becoming an issue. Your quirk related to the manipulation of that same blue fluid, and it required that which was already in existence. You were incapable of making it. Although, shortly after you discovered a fun little detail (the ability to manipulate the water within one's body), you entered into an agreement with the infamous League of Villains. There was no clear indication that you would progress to this level of evil - you were generally quite a good-natured, innocent soul. Or so everybody assumed. The apparent leader of the League found you suspect, therefore he ensured that someone was tailing you constantly. This someone was a shadowy spectre; it was a foreign individual, one that posed a massive threat to society at large, but rarely ever encountered the morning light. She had strict instructions to place as many roadblocks in your path as possible, to gauge your reactions and loyalties. It was similar to an initiation test, in some aspects.

You were mostly unaware of this, although you had a slight inkling. After all, a number of accidents had occurred since your admission. For instance, you one day became the almost-victim of a violent older man, who bore a striking resemblance to someone from your past. Except, he was long dead and couldn't have possibly been flying towards you with a knife. You were also at one point transported to a place unknown to you, that eventually turned out to be another top-secret League of Villains hideout.

However, today seemed different - strangely so. The atmosphere was eerily normal, passers-by talking and just generally having a good time. It was the height of summer, after all, but something wasn't quite right. An uneasy feeling crept into your stomach, making it contort angrily. As a precaution, you stepped off the road and continued along the street, sparing a few glances behind you every so often. It didn't appear like anyone was following you. A breath of warm air left your lips, but not before you noticed the prickling of your skin. You managed to mumble a plethora of curse words, but felt rooted to the spot. The car zoomed towards you, a ghost behind the wheel, and you saw flashes of red and orange, memories resurfacing as though your mind was shuffling through them, attempting to show you the best ones before your untimely end. Your eyes squeezed shut, and your body braced for the impact.

It never came.

Instead, there was a gentle tingling sensation on your back and legs - someone was carrying you to safety. Their fingers felt calloused, but the person held you tenderly, bridal-style and his frame shook with concern. When your eyes reopened, the sturdy stranger set you on the ground, and leaned forwards. It was a boy, no older than yourself, with the most amazing, emerald eyes, that reminded you of the Emerald City from The Wizard of Oz. His curly locks were the same exact shade, and your nose took in a mixture of sweat, flowers and old books. This adorable creature checked you for injuries, and fretted about how something serious could have happened. You didn't respond; you couldn't even acknowledge his words. You were completely entranced by his timid but determined personality, the heroic way in which he acted, and his seemingly extensive knowledge on the justice system. There were beads of perspiration cascading down his forehead, causing the sunlight to reflect off it like a stained-glass window.

The voice which graced your ears was high and harmonious - you wondered if he could sing. It wobbled as his verdant orbs trained your surroundings, and his words were being released at the same rate as a sped-up Nightcore music video. You weren't complaining, however; you felt quite at home. In that moment, you decided that this boy was going to be your friend, and perhaps maybe even your lover. You were willing to work for it - you didn't wish to force the poor cinnamon roll into anything.