𝔹𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕠 𝕐𝕠𝕦

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟙~ ℙ𝕝𝕦𝕤 𝕌𝕝𝕥𝕣𝕒

(I made the video above so it would be nice if you guys check it out UwU)

Any haters or non-bakudeku shippers or homophobes or easily-triggered people, THIS is your cue to leave You're all strapped in from this point on. Get ready for the most angstiest time of your lives... even though I'm meh at writing. I'm sorry in advance. That's about it from me! I hope you enjoy it!

Also, trigger warning for almost ALL chapters

PART 1

[No one's POV]

"Just pray that you get a quirk in your next life, and take a swan dive off the roof of the building!"

Izuku just stares lifelessly at the 3 bullies. His 3 bullies. Cackling like maniacs as they leave the mess they had made behind. Their mess being the "quirkless loser" himself. And it wasn't just them talking nonsense. It was the truth. He was quirkless and a lonely, useless nobody. The title fit him perfectly.

He crouched down, picking up the contents of his bag that were now scattered across the wooden floor. He was used to the torturous comments and actions given by Katsuki and his gang. And not because he could fight their words off, but because he started believing in them. His self-esteem and desire to live took a huge turn, but at least he didn't have to work as hard to support his beliefs. It's not like he was useful to anyone, except someone his bullies could kick around. It was a lot easier to be negative than positive anyway.

He sighs at the thought of Katsuki. Kacchan. His former friend. What went wrong? He already knew the answer to than - himself. He was at fault, for being quirkless. It made Katsuki flick him off like an annoying piece of dirt, always clinging onto him and making the blonde look filthy to others. The blonde would've gotten nowhere if he were still stuck to him. He really is just a Deku.

He slings his bag over his shoulders, walking over to the exit, all the harsh daggers thrown at him now remaining as mere memories only Izuku would remember. Then he begins the long, dragging walk home.

"Hi mum!" He yells out through the house, waiting for a response. All he got was a faint, sweet "hi" back. It's horrible to be a single mum, especially since you have to earn the money to keep this stable house. Another reason why Izuku was useless: he was just another mouth to feed, not even providing a penny to his mum. He wanders upstairs, humming a minor tune (A/N: Musicians you follow?) along to each step taken on the creaky staircase.

Unbuttoning and pealing off his sweaty, tacky uniform, Izuku strips himself into only his underwear and peers into the long mirror found on the inside door of his closet. A skinny and pale boy looks back, dark bags under his eyes making them almost pop out. He no longer saw a potential hero, but a worthless boy. He was bony, sickly pallid, sticky in sweat glinting in the sunlight peaking through the curtains. Ribs poked out from his chest. What happened to him? He was skipping lunch, spending his time wandering on the roof top, looking at the perilous drop down. Never once had it crossed his mind to actually jump, but the bullying he was facing was slowly changing that. No one noticed him skipping. No one cared. He wouldn't each much food anyway.

There was also the most significant feature about his figure, despite the abnormal skinniness, paper whiteness and the lifeless sleepy eyes with all tears cried out. His arms were decorated with long, crimson slashes, reminding him of his uselessness. He would always be useless. He is useless. He didn't need to be told twice. But he was told more than a thousand times anyway. The scars ran all the way up his forearm, hundreds of them on each arm, some deeper than others. His fluffy green hair was now matted down, losing its colour. He seemed a lot older than he was.

Izuku hops into his shower after removing his boxers, letting the freezing water blast at him. He enjoyed the iciness. Somehow, it gave him feeling again. Ever since he accepted the taunting words his "best friend" told him, he felt this horrible emptiness that he couldn't fill, most of it caused by his self-hatred eating him. There are only two ways he can fill this void, and one of them was showering in freezing water to wake his senses. The other...

He reaches up to the shelf above him, pulling down the small treasure he had been looking for. His fingers wrap around the little handle, the silver blades stained with miniscule specks of blood. His razor, which he never used for shaving. Only for cutting.

Today he would add on another 10 cuts. Each one for each word and phrase he was.

Worthless

Disgusting

Fat

Useless

Waste of space

Loser

Wannabie

Trash

Quirkless

Stupid

The poor boy was so polluted with these messed-up thoughts in his head, still reminding him of what he wasn't. But he thought they were what he was. It was almost a thirsty addiction for him, each cut giving a slight pain as a reminder, but followed briskly by a soothing feeling, letting him feel comfort for a moment. Scarlet trails down his arms, curling around his fingers and dripping from their tips to mix with the awaiting water below. This would keep happening, the same solace still flooding through him. But eventually, it wouldn't be enough. And this started from today.

None of those 10 scars gave any slight relief, and Izuku, desperate for some kind of release, continues to cut, running his razor over new and old cuts, panicking slightly as he starts going dizzy, blood now pouring out. He starts to cry, the stinging too unbearable when touched with the icy water. It hurt too much, no relief available. Whines escape his lips, only feeling pain and dizziness. The cutting was no longer enough. And if what you do isn't enough, there's only one other thing left for you to do. Go beyond. Plus Ultra.

Izuku stopped cutting when he started losing balance, unable to see straight any longer, his vision contorted and blurred. He squints, still heavily bleeding and crying silently, and tries to stop the blood.

He covers his arm with a bandage, some blood seeping through, and puts on his t-shirt and shorts, getting ready for another long, sleepless night. He never sleeps anymore. Izuku then walks over to his desk, taking up his marker, its red ink the colour of his own. He hesitated for a while, but finally, with a shaky hand, starts to draw an almost perfect circle around tomorrow's date.

He had enough of living, of suffering, of being a pain and burden to everyone. It was for the best if he left forever. That's what he was going to do that day.

On the 23rd November, as soon as school finishes, Izuku will climb onto the rooftop of his school and swan-dive off the top. It's what Kacchan had always wanted. It's what everyone had wanted. It was what he wanted.

He was going to become a hero to the people who wished for him to do this.

He was going Plus Ultra.

A twist of "Plus Ultra"

Be potates!

                    ~Spud🥔