Prologue

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Hey hey hey! The Golden Touch rewrite has been started and a few chapters have been prewritten! Since most people started school today I thought it might be nice if peeps had something to lessen the blow of the torture.

So, have a rewrite :D

This fic will be updated every Monday!

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Quirks. Superhuman abilities that just over 80% of the world's population are born with. Most of the time these abilities directed the path someone would take in their life. Those with subtle quirks lived out average lives, while those with flashy quirks strived to be in a profession where they could show off- nine times out of ten that profession was being a Pro-hero.

Though even with these amazing abilities, there are some out there who wished that they didn't have the quirk they were given, some who wished they were given any other quirk but the one they had. Better yet they might even wish that they were quirkless.

Kontorōru Kula is one of those people.

If only she had just inherited a copy of one of her parent's quirk, if only she were quirkless, if only she had any other quirk then the one she was given then maybe, just maybe she'd have a normal life. But no matter how many times she said 'if only' no matter how many times wished things could be different life had already dealt her cards and she had to somehow make it through life with what she had received.

The moment her quirk manifested just a few days after she turned four was the moment everything in her life shifted.

She still remembered the day it manifested. She was sitting in her pre-school classroom coloring with some of the other kids when the crayon that she was holding turned into a shimmering golden material. She remembered being confused when her crayon had suddenly stopped coloring and ran up to a teacher and showed her the crayon.

Later that day Kula went to a doctor and there it was confirmed that her quirk had manifested. It was a unique combination of her parents quirks- Repress and Gold Plate. By touching all five of her fingers to an object it would turn into pure gold. With the help of the doctor they had settled on the name 'Midas' after an ancient Greek myth.

For the next few weeks life had been normal. Kula received a pair of gloves that covered all but two of her fingers on each hand and life had continued on as normal. If only it had stayed that way.

The Kontorōrus weren't poor, in fact they were closer to upper-middle class if anything. Her mother was a well known hero defense lawyer and her father was a financial planner. With the both of them working they had managed to make a living for them and Kula. But the hands of greed had the ability to twist even the purist hearts and slowly her parents started to change.

It was subtle at first, her parents asking Kula to use her quirk on an old ring or bracelet every so often. But soon their requests got more frequent until her mother would come home with bags of cheap pendants and jewelry from a thrift store every other week and made Kula use her quirk on every one of them, not letting Kula leave until each and every item had turned to a shimmering gold. There were times where Kula would even almost pass out halfway through turning the heap of cheap accessories into gold, and no matter what she'd always feel chilled to the bone afterwards.

It wasn't until two years after her quirk had manifested when her mom had first gotten physical with her. She had been suffering from a headache from the day before and didn't want to use her quirk. Her mom didn't appreciate Kula refusing and raised her hand. Kula could still remember the sound of skin hitting skin echoing around the two of them.

Kula remembered crying herself to sleep that night, forcing herself to keep quiet as to not disturb her parents as they laughed and chatted in the kitchen.

She was six when she ran away from home for the first time. It was after another quirk session and her mother's hand had run across her face more than once, droplets of golden blood beading in the spots where she had been stricken multiple times. The door was left unlocked that night and while her parents were in the kitchen celebrating Kula opened the door and made a run for it. She had somehow made her way into the city and swerved through the crowd until she found herself sitting in an alleyway, her knees tucked under her chin as tears streamed down her stinging cheeks.

It was in that alleyway that she met one of her first friend. A  boy with white hair and what looked to be burn scars covering his arms and parts of his face. He was a lot older than her, seeming to be around 13 at the time.

He had sat with her throughout the night, blue flames keeping the two of them warm as the autumn night chill settled around them. Looking back Kula realized that the boy had probably stayed with her to keep away any threats- as a lone, crying, six year old in an alleyway is prime picking for pedophiles and villains.

Eventually a police officer had found them- the boy disappearing the moment her flashlight illuminated the alleyway. Despite her protests the cop drove Kula home, where both her parents were waiting.

Even if she got severely punished for running away that night, it didn't stop Kula from sneaking out every once in a while. Sometimes she would run into the white haired boy- who had later introduced himself as 'Dabi'- and the two of them would talk and joke around, effectively taking Kula's mind off of the situation she was in. Sometimes on nights where her parents had done more damage to her than normal he would patch her up with supplies he had most likely stolen.

One night, when Kula was around eight, their conversation had turned towards the topic of Pro-Heroes. Dabi held a disliking towards them, there was one hero in particular that he harbored a strong hatred towards. The number two hero Endeavor. Whenever the name was mentioned around the two of them Kula noticed the way his fist would tighten and how his face contorted into a mix of hatred and regret. Dabi had asked her what she thought of heroes that night, and Kula still remembered what she had said. Late at night when she was unable to sleep the words would ring out, breaking through the deafening silence that encases her in the dark.

"If heroes are supposed to take down villains and save people, then why haven't they taken down my mom and dad? Do... do they think I'm not worth saving?"

It wasn't that Kula hated heroes, it was just that fact that there were many heroes out there who were in the profession purely for fame, money, and attention. If she were to count on her fingers the number of heroes who had turned her away when she had tried to get help she'd need at least three more hands. Eventually she just gave up as it was clear the 'heroes' weren't going to do anything.

Though, there were a few heroes who had tried. One of those heroes was Eraserhead, an underground hero that mainly worked at night and out of public eye. There were only a few others who knew about the man and even less people who openly talked about him. One night he had run into her walking alone through the streets close to midnight. She couldn't of been any older than seven when she first met him.

She remembered that he had knelt down to her level to look her in the eyes as he spoke to her, his voice quiet and soft as to not scare her away. He had noticed her flinch when he mentioned taking her home and his eyes had moved to a patch on her face that Dabi had used to cover the few scratches she had gotten earlier that day. Despite his mind screaming for him not to he had personally walked Kula home, where her parents answered the door and pulled her inside as they apologized for bothering the pro.

The next day CPS and some police officers had come to the house and investigated her parents after they received a report the night before, though after following procedure and looking into everything they came up empty handed. On her nightly sneak outs she had encountered a few other heroes who had noticed something was wrong. Ingenium, Rock Lock, and Midnight were just to name a few. And after she encountered one of those heroes CPS and the officers would be on their doorstep within the next few days. Maybe they were incompetent at their job or maybe her parents were just that good at hiding evidence but every time CPS or the police appeared at the doorstep they never found a thing.

So, Kula was left in the house. The thought of running away for good had crossed her mind more than once but no matter where she went, how far she ran, the police had always found her and brought her home. They chalked it up to her being a rebellious child- it wasn't unheard of for kids to wonder away from home- and left her to grow up in that house with the villains she called her 'parents'.

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