Hi! This is the translated version of a oneshot of mine (it's translated from French). This is the first time I do something like this and while I'm confident in my ability to understand and speak English, I'm not in my ability to translate it correctly ^^' So if you find any mistakes, please tell me, I will correct them ^^ Tell me what you think of this!
Everything has always been red. Since he was born, there only was red everywhere. The first thing he knew was red were his mother's eyes. He had recognized the rich color as much as the constant anger her eyes held. But that had never slowed him down and he had soon discovered the same fiery and combative red coloring his own. He had worn the color with pride. Red was noble, it was the color of victory, red was powerful. He would be noble, he would vanquish, he would be powerful. Like All Might.
If someone had asked him what he thought of the hero, he would have said his costume lacked red. Of course, the color was always there. But never enough. There always needed more, because red was impressive, red ensured success. He had sworn to himself, his own costume would be entirely red, from head to toes. He would become the greatest hero, would surpass All Might. The whole world would know about him and he would wear his color with pride, he would be the number one. He could already see it. His father had laughed, looked at him with brown eyes and ruffled his hair.
He had felt like he had been happier about the color of his quirk than about its power. He hadn't been surprised though. How could something red not be powerful? His explosions had echoed all around the house that day, and he had admired them for hours. The red was faint, barely there, but it was all he could see. The enchanting color fading into others and detonating with unthinkable strength.
He had bragged about this power, had repeated thousands of times that he was the best, and each and every single time, he had been answered he was right, that he was powerful and worthy. He had loved it. His warm colored strength had fed off of it, had absorbed it all, and had taken the shade of power and overflowing confidence. He had stopped seeing the red, the noble, in his deafening explosions. The color was always there, a tiny spark, but he could only see the bright light and hear the thunderous sound. He loved it. This power, this energy, this quirk, it was all his. That was who he was, what he wanted to become. An explosive hero, dangerous and feared by all, famous and powerful. The red disappeared from his costume.
Then, there was Deku. Since he was old enough to remember, this idiot had always been there. They had always gone to the same school, had always been in the same class. Deku had always followed him with big admiring eyes. He had let him. He felt important, worshipped. Deku was stupid and had never stopped saying he would get a quirk as cool as his, that they would study together to become the best heroes Japan had ever seen, but he knew one thing. Never Deku would obtain a quirk as powerful as his. It was impossible. But the idiot had never stopped repeating it again and again, and when he forgot about the red, Deku forced it on him. He remembered himself falling. He had only tripped and tumbled down into a small stream. He was soaked in water, his shoulder hurt, but he was mainly pissed off, because he fell and his hands were now wet and he couldn't use his quirk when his hands were wet. Then, he had turned his head and seen those bright red shoes running towards him, disappearing into the water before a hand replaced them in front of his eyes. Deku. Stupid Deku. As if he needed help. He had slapped the hand away. He was strong, powerful. He didn't need Deku and his stupid red shoes.
So he ignored him. Him and his red shoes. He had kept on destroying everything with his explosions, kept on focusing on his power, his strength, what made him who he was. Someone admirable, respectable, someone able to protect others, able to become the next All Might, able to become better than All Might. And Deku had kept on following him. The idiot. He didn't want to have anything to do with him anymore. He had done everything he could to drive him away. He didn't want to see him, didn't want to know he was behind him, running clumsily after him without a quirk. He could admit it, there was something addictive about knowing Deku was still following him despite his quirklessness. He felt powerful in front of him, superior, and it was intoxicating. But it was also humiliating. Deku was only dust in his way, a tiny grain of sand he could step on without even noticing. He didn't want anything so pathetic and small being associated with him. But despite all his efforts, Deku was still there with his stupid red shoes and his stupid terrorized eyes every time his explosions thundered. He wanted to shout and scream. Get out of my life! But stupid Deku never listened. He hated this idiot, stated it loud and clear, and Deku still stayed. Tch. Fuck it. He wasn't about to waste his time on someone so insignificant.
