SUMMARY: "When you don't know what do with life, just go with the flow and pray you won't mess up." Canon Izuku might successfully saved the world, but she can successfully save the world too while making some small changes right? Self-Insert, SI-as-Deku/Izuku, Fem!Deku/Fem!Izuku

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Boku no Hero Academia aka My Hero Academia, in any way or shape or form. The only things I own are Shizuka and my plots!

WARNINGS: Genderbent!Izuku (fem!Izuku), SI!Izuku. Also, some cussing because I'm a foul-mouthed person and just can't resist. And of course there's Bakugo's lovely vocabularies...

YES, this is a rewrite of Skyscraper.

I'm aware I haven't written here for almost a month, but in that time I've read some SI-OC fanfictions that made me realize how bad my grammar and plot are. I'm amazed there's so many love for Skyscraper.

To be honest, this is my first fanfiction in this site and I love it too. I plan to finish this story.

Thank you so much for your supports, I love you guys ;')

Enjoy!

- 05/05/18

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Chapter One:

You Fermented In My Bones

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I've always love the cold.

The sensation of frost biting my naked skin, overwhelming my senses with numbness. It's for the same reason as my love for rain: they reminds me that I'm alive — the physical pain kick-started my brain to the fact.

Lying in the midst of thin snow, I didn't know whether to be grateful or morose for the irony.

The cold that I so loved was biting ferociously into my skin, slowly tinting the pale white with sickly blue. The snow that digged into the wound on my stomach made my whole body painfully numb.

Even without seeing it, I knew the snow was turning red.

Someone was screaming my name, the panic sounded clearly in their voice. My blurry eyes managed to found the figure holding their winter coat to my wound, the tips of his blond hair stained with my blood. It was useless though, and from the sobbing he knew that too.

My breaths were starting to be really hard to take. Even with my whole energy, the oxygen just didn't want to get in. It was probably because of the long steel that had pierced my stomach — from what I vaguely recalled, it could pierce my lungs, which is one of the easiest way to kill someone.

The blonde is desperately cupping my face with a bloody hand, softly slapping it to kept me awake. He was sobbing harder now, the green eyes showed his raw fear of losing me.

I smiled softly, trying to assure him like I'd always done. He's always been such a crybaby, that little brother of mine.If even possible, he sobbed harder, his mouth frantically saying things I couldn't hear, but could see. My hands itched to ruffle his messy hair as was our routine, but it couldn't move besides trembling. So I resigned myself to say a few last things to him.

I knew I was drowning in my own blood, my own lungs failing me as the snow around us stained red. It was the tragic way I would go, but...

...I died with my beloved brother's face as the last thing I saw, so I left the world with a gentle happy smile in my face.

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Since I love snow, cold, and rain, it's only natural that I love water as well.

Swimming wasn't something I indulged in daily, but those days that I did, I treasured. The most often times were twice a week, since there weren't any swimming pools near my house. I fiercely envied one of my friend who own a private pool in their backyard.

Water always calms me, and I could stay in there for hours and still not wanting to get out. It was like a small piece of heaven for me. Needless to say, I used to spent hours inside the bathroom and regularly exasperated my family. Some days they even thought I fell asleep inside.

Never had water made me panic like now.

From the darkness, water hit my immobilized body, the waves rough and threatening. The water was rushing to the small gap of blinding light, and I with it.

My lungs were caving in, I couldn't breathe—!

And then, I was forced to pass through the small hole head-first, warm things pulling gently at my chest.

Everything seemed awfully too bright. There were buzzing noises all around me, as if people were talking, and someone cleaned my body with warm wet towel from head-to-toe. The liquid I wasn't even aware of was wiped clear.

But despite all those overwhelming things, the only thing I really noticed was that I could breathe again. And with no small amount of relief, I cried. I cried and cried and in the back of my brain, I knew I realized something important. But even as warm pair of hands took me and an even warmer body hugged me to their chest, I tried not to think of it.

I'm alive, I'm alive. Why am I alive? God, I'm glad I'm alive. But why? I'm alive!

Incoherent thoughts formed, but all of those evaporated once I opened my eyes.

The brightness wasn't as bright anymore, and my blurry eyes managed to catch some shaped blobs in front of me.

And no matter how I tried to deny it, surrounding me were giant people—

Or to be precise, adult-sized people. It wasn't them who were giant, it was me who shrinked.

I'm a baby again.

Have to admit it wasn't my brightest moment, but I fainted.

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Being a baby was a blessing in disguise.

For the first few months, I did nothing but suckling milk and sleeping. My fragile body demanded sleep whenever my stomach wasn't rumbling. The lack of motor skill and my blurry eyesight wasn't helping either, so there'd been little to no else to do.

Also, my name is apparently Shizu. Either that or Shi. My new parents usually alternated between those two, even though sometimes they called me something else, something along the line of Shizua. It was so rare that I couldn't remember it well. Often times, I could hear them talking softly to me while I sleep, something I'm not sure real or not.

After the fourth month, everything got better.

I was able to actually see — my eyesight was still improving, but I'm grateful for it anyway. I'd also start babbling, and I could stay awake for more than an hour now.

My new parents are a-okay. My new father is a down-to-earth kind of person, and like to smile and carry me everywhere he can. His smile is very infectious — I always felt ridiculously happy whenever he's around. My new mother is a gentle, soft-spoken woman, and a bit of a worrywart too. She likes to fret over the smallest things, like when I'd sneezed once. They look quite young, with my new mother — I have to start calling her "Mama" in my head from now on — being the youngest.

But what grabbed my attention the most, was her hair colour. It's dark green! Her eyebrows are the same amazing colour, so it couldn't have been faked. Soooo jealous... I hoped I get that colour, even though my new father's brunette hair is okay too.

Speaking of, how are those possible again? I was pretty sure they're japanese, from the littlest bit of the language I recognized and from their faces. Had japanese somehow mutated their genes and became like their anime counterpart? Because green eyes aren't common in any countries of Asia, too.

...Had I somehow been reborn into an anime or a manga...?

...Ahahaha, no way.

(I totally am.)

Something nudged me gently on my cheek. I looked up to the amused face of my new father. I'd apparently abandoned him to daydream on the middle of their 'father-daughter bonding' time (his words). Oops. I babbled a bit in a half-hearted attempt to apologize, which he took by chuckling.

He said something, and stood to the other side of the room and came back with a paper and a marker in hands.

"Shizuka," He called me and then said something I didn't understand.But I understand enough from his gestures that he's going to show something to me.

"Shizuka, look," He raised his written paper close to me, and point at the four kanjis(?). "This is your name— Midoriya Shizuka."

...Wait, what?

"These two here is spelled Midoriya, our surname. They translate as 'Green Valley'. And your first name here — Shizuka — means 'Calm and Excellent'." He explained.

Just because I happened to have the same last name as a main protagonist of an anime doesn't mean I'm in said anime. Midoriya is a common name, isn't it?

"Your name is Midoriya Shizuka, and Shizu-chan is the daughter of Midoriya Hisashi and Inko," Father continued, blissfully aware of the mental drop inside his child's head.

Of fucking course.

Yes, of course I am reborn in an anime. Boku no Hero Academia, even. Don't get me wrong — it was one of my favorite anime and all. Certainly there are many worse animes to be born into. But I'd been reborn in the main protagonist's family. What if I accidentally changed something? What will happen to the future, then?

No, wait, is Izuku even going to be born?

(The answer: he isn't.

And a part of me is glad, is relieved..

...I never wanted to be an older sister again,

never wanted a sibling to witness my death again,

never wanted to leave them again—

... because it hurts.

It still hurt.)

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Cassiopeia Avery was a beautiful teenager.

She's named after the most beautiful princess of Greece, and grew up as one. She never knew her mother, nor does her or her brother knew his. Their father has always been a bit of a playboy like that. Honestly, she was surprised they didn't have more siblings (as far as they knew).

But despite that, Anthony Avery is a wonderful father. He work hard from his house everyday, so he never had to leave his children alone unless necessary. He's the one that changed their diapers, wiped their tears, and taught them the lessons of life. To them, Anthony is the most amazing father one could ever ask for.

Their tight-knitted family is like that because of Anthony's dedication. Cassie and her brother couldn't be more thankful. And of course, she'd always been a daddy's girl. Her father obviously cherished both of them so much, and they him.

It was why... I couldn't accept Midoriya Hisashi as my father.

Even at one year old, I still wouldn't think of him as my father, whereas I already think of Midoriya Inko as her mother and even call her "Mama". It's easier, considering there's never been a mother figure in her previous life. However, to this day, the unrelenting effort of Hisashi to make me call him "Papa" is still unsuccessful.

There's always gonna be one father for me. All of her dad's hardwork of raising me... The last thing I could do is honoring him like that.

The next morning, I woke up to giant smiles on my new parents' faces.

"Happy birthday, Shizuka!" was what I think they said the second I open my eyes. My language isn't that good yet.

Clear orbs took several seconds to observe the extra cheery attitude, and beamed in return. I'd missed being special, even though I was practically coddled by my parents everyday. But birthdays are special, a whole day just for you.

That day, I was given a breakfast of low-sugar cake (they'd learnt not to give her too much sugar after the last sugar rush), along with my favorite modest meals — mini onigiri and rice balls. Then, for lunch there was miso ramen and for dinner they gave me sushi.

Yup, it was heaven.

Usually, gifts are given when one wake up, bright in the morning. But in the Midoriya household, said tradition is done in the night, right before bedtime. So after dinner and bath, I sat on the sofa of my living room, clad in an adorable bunny onesie. My knees and fingers bounced impatiently while Mama and Hisashi approach with gifts hidden behind their bodies.

"Mama! Wan'!" I demanded, the childish voice and annoying lisp perfected my cuteness. Even I could tell I'm a cute kid.

Hisashi would've melted into a puddle right then if he could. Inko, used to us, just cooed at the adorable picture and took a seat in the floor in front of me. She gave me her gift, which are toys, including the puzzle one I'd wanted. I squealed in delight and hugged my mother for all my worth.

"Hime, open Papa's!"

Enthusiasm rearing inside my blood, I took the big box from his hands. The pale green box were neatly wrapped by a silver ribbon. It's design is beautiful with white laces and pearls and little bears. I'm definitely keeping the box.

Unexpectedly, the insides beat the box itself.

There are... many kind of things. A book and some writing utensils that Hisashi explained I'll need when I start learning to write — it's going to be hell for me —, two or three teething toys, a few candies I'll definitely treasure, a pair of necklace and bracelet for a child, and lastly, is a book almost the same size as the box.

"It's a scrap book that I made just for you, Hime." Hisashi beamed, the brown eyes shining with love and adoration that were directed to me. "You can put photos as you grow up, and write down things and explanation and anything else you want inside!"

"...Real'y? Fow me?"

"Of course — only the best for my precious hime!"

And turns out Hisashi's personality is infectious too, because right there and then I melted. The honest beam he gave me, and the conviction I could saw he feel from his words made the fragile walls around my heart crumbled.

"P'pa... P-Papa!"

"Ah! My little Hime! My little Hime calls me Papa!"

And as I gave him a flying hug with teary eyes and countless thank yous, I realized something.

I might have a father she adored before, and that's okay. He'll always be me father — the only one she'll call Dad with spoiled tone, the only one she'll help fix cars, the only one she'll play soccer and golf and the occasional swim with.

Midoriya Hisashi is my second chance of having a father, my redemption after breaking Dad's heart by dying. He's the only one I call Papa, not Dad — my number one fan, the one I'll make cookies with, the one I'll sneakily eat said cookies everyday with.

I'm not replacing Dad, instead I'm getting a Papa. Two people with synonymous titles, but both hold different precious places inside my heart.

After hugging for a few minutes, I turned to the side only to saw Mama holding a camera in one hand, having just took their pictures that she promised look great. It made me pouted for a good while as my parents laughed at my adorableness. In the end, I couldn't help but grin.

It was a memorable day.

(And one day, I won't remember much from that day.

Only a treasured box, a homemade scrapbook, a precious photo...

...And a warmth surrounding me.)

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NEXT UPDATE: BAKUGO KATSUKI.

Two weeks from now I'm gonna have my end-of-semester tests, so next week is going to be busy. I'll try to update as much as possible~

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