Ikuyu Midoriya, the twin brother of Izuku Midoriya, the strong fire quirked brother to the poor quirkless boy, the Hero material brother to the boy no one believed in, the 'I don't want to be a hero' brother to the 'I would do anything to be a hero'...
I'm so so sooo sorry for making you all wait this long for this chapter. I have my tests going on at the moment so it was hard to write, I already had this chapter done on paper but whenever I have to type out what I've already written once it takes me more than twice the time. I'm sorry.
Before we start this chapter I'd like to share the first ever fan art for this story that hasn't been made by me.
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This is Ikuyu drawn by That_useless_boi , you all should go and check out their art book. They made my day with this ❤💖💓💕💞
Also, this story hit the rank 1 in the #bakugouxoc category, it may have most likely gotten back down by now, but I still want to thank you all, it's all beacuse of you all that my story could reach there.
Lastly, I joined TS, if you're there and wanna hit me up then my username is - @crazygurlv
On with the chapter now.
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Ikuyu lay sleepless in his bed, butterflies made out of fire fluttering over him, flickering and changing there wing structure and colour as he manipulated the shape and temprature of the flames with his quirk. Creating small replicas of lifeforms, insects, animals, birds, it was something he did often when he was bored or overthinking during sleepless nights.
He had learned this when he was forced to attend extra quirk counselling at the age of ten because he refused to use his quirk which made it grow out of control, Izuku being quirkless may have had played a role in this. The councillors and training helped a lot and now Ikuyu held the capability of creating giant walking flame puppets if he wanted to.
Finally giving up on trying to sleep, Ikuyu got up from his bed and opened a cardboard box lying on the table labeled 'stationary'. While everyone else in his dorm and the 1-A dorms were already done unpacking and decorating, Ikuyu's lazy ass decide to procrastinate on it, doing the bare minimum that was necessary, like putting his clothes in the closet and paving his books on the shelf, everything else was still in the boxes they came with.
He took out a pen from the pouch lying on top and then dug deeper, rummaging around until his hands brushed over a thick hard back diary, he pulled it out from the very bottom. It had a maroon cover which was peeling off from multiple places, this diary was actually a free promotion product they had gotten with something, That product name had been embossed in shiny silver print, it had faded and turned illegible now. The wear and tear from long usage, all 6 years of it, was clearly visible on it. He had started writing it when he was crippling with loneliness and had come across The Diary of a Young Girl at the wee age of ten.
