Prologue

'All men are not equal'

This was the truth he knew since he was five years old.

In a world filled with the extraordinary, the wonderful, the terrifying, the weak die and the strong live. Those with power flourish, and those without flounder to rise from their status.

In a world where power was everything, as one who had nothing, this would have been a death sentence.

Once upon a time, this would have been a story of one who had no power earning his right to it. He would be the bearer of a legacy spanning centuries. This would have been a story of adventure and friendship; of growth...

Sadly, this is not his story.

Heavy breathing echoed and shadows danced as he ran. Faster and faster he ran down the twisting and turning alleys desperate to escape.

Run...

He could still hear her voice. Terrified eyes shining with tears stared into his as the screams played in his mind in a horrible loop. He could see her, his mother, pushing him away and emerald fire obscured her as they fed on her flesh and bones.

He covered his ears as he ran hoping to block out her final screams and his heart ached at her agonizing end. The villain's laughter filled his ears at his mother's death and rage grew in his chest.

He wanted to go back and beat him up.

He wanted to rip him to shreds-limb to limb.

He wanted to KILL HIM.

But he knew, it was impossible. He was too weak. If he were to go back, he would only get killed. He would be wasting the life that his mother tried so hard to preserve; he would not let her effort be in vain.

So preoccupied was he in stopping his tears and running that he had missed the hand reaching for him.

"What do we have here?"

He felt a hard yank on his collar and his feet left the ground.

"A rat running for his life?"

He was choking as he was lifted into the air but he could still recognize the mocking amusement from the voice.

A hand gripped his head and he had to stifle a cry of pain as he faced its owner.

Green and Black filled his vision and the simmering rage in his chest exploded into a fiery inferno.

The man-for it was a man with how broad its shoulders were and how deep its voice was-was decked in a black ensemble of a simple shirt and cargo pants with a green highlight so dark it blended among the black background and a forest green trenchcoat on his shoulders.

Black hair that was cut unevenly short sat atop his head and his face was a cruel caricature of a man in his mid thirties. His expression lighting up with a sadistic glint.

He recognized him.

He recognized this man.

How could he not, when this man was the reason his mother was DEAD!

With the fires of hatred in his belly, he fought back as hard as he could. Punching, kicking and screaming for all he was worth to at least hurt the man to give back a taste of the suffering his mother experienced. And yet...

He had the gall to LAUGH.

A slap to the cheek ceased his efforts as he tried to shake off the pain and the darkness creeping into his vision.

"You got some spunk in you rat! I like that."

He knew he was losing consciousness and valiantly he tried to fight of the darkness creeping in. It was an effort in futility as he felt the world began to dim. Colors lost their vibrancy and the flames surrounding them grew dim.

The last thing he heard was the murderer's despicable voice.

"You may be worth something, rat. So I will let you live for now. A lot of people are interested in buying a worthless thing like you. Worthless... right as long as your with me, that is who you are: DEKU. Hahaha!"

Darkness covered him and despair clouded his heart as he lost the battle, losing consciousness knowing that the next time he woke, things would never be the same again.

He hated him.

He hated his father.

He hated Hisashi Midoriya.

Soft snoring could be heard as a figure shifted beneath the sheets. A door opened quietly and a person entered the sanctuary. Softly as if on padded feet, they approached the shifting figure. In three strides they had crossed the room and approached the bed side chuckling under their breath at the figure's disheveled state.

A hand reached out towards their cheek before stopping abruptly. With a soft shake of their head they moved back and in an abrupt move opened the heavy curtains.

Light poured into the room illuminating it and exposing beautiful yet simple decorations.

The man, who was wearing a crisp black tuxedo with a white undershirt and black tie, pulled out a golden pocket watch and checked the time.

"Good morning, young miss. It is a wonderful day today don't you think?"

A groan voiced out in reply.

"Come now, it is not good to be lazy. It is already bright out, yes?" he said.

"Please be quiet. Don't you think it is a bit too early?"

Though groggy from being pulled from sleep, one could not deny that it was beautiful and possessing a melodius lilt.

Appearing from the thick coverings was a waterfall of onyx black hair framing a white, oval face. Cat like eyes narrowed in the direction of the man in annoyance.

"Couldn't you have given me five more minutes before pulling the curtains apart?"

She said in what she thought to be an intimidating and authoritative tone; to him, who had grown accustomed to whims and wants and her habits, all she seemed like was an annoyed kitten.

A brief smile crossed his face before schooling it into a pleasant but neutral facade. Although, it would seem he was not fast enough if the increasing irritation in the lady's face said anything.

A thrown pillow was gracefully dodged as he went on towards the dressing table. Reaching inside a drawer, he pulled out a hairbrush and turned towards his lady once more.

"I'm afraid I must insist, my lady," he said somewhat amused with her morning antics.

"Today is a school day is it not? It would not be good if my lady were to be late."

She stared at him for a minute, most probably contemplating whether it was worth going back to sleep or to prepare for the day. In less than a minute she gave a soft grunt and stood up from her bed.

'As always, milady is quite amusing in the mornings.'

Patiently he waited as his mistress approached her vanity; watching with slightly pink cheeks.

'And as always, milady's night wear is really too daring!'

She was wearing a sheer red nightgown with lacy ribbons at the top of her chest and at bottom that only reached her hips. It was more fitting to call it a lingerie considering how much of her figure it showed. Truly it only properly covered her chest and matching panties covered her lower regions.

He knew that he should have been used to this already especially since they had known each other since they were young, but he thinks that he really would not be no matter how long it takes.

He tried to hide his embarrassment and flushed cheeks but he caught sight of her light smirk and flushed even harder. She knew that he had not gotten used to her choice of dress for the night and that even he was not immune to her charms no matter how long they have known each other.

She really loved teasing him, he thought.

"Oh, stuff it."

Pouting, he moved aside and stood behind her as she sat on the vanity seat. Even as she let out a tittering laugh, he only pouted harder.

After all, wasn't it somewhat unfair?

His mistress was widely acknowledged as someone who was exceedingly beautiful. Her long black hair, her onyx eyes and noble face partnered with her body which was more voluptuous than any other girl her age, her tall and graceful stature, his mistress was capable of turning heads both male and female alike.

He recognized as he began their daily morning ritual and brushed her hair that, truly, Momo Yaoyorozu was a beauty without peer.

And that he, Izuku Midoriya, was lucky to be her butler.