The worst day of his life

Thats what he had decided to call it. what better way to describe loosing your only friend, your mothers love and your home. it had started like any normal day really. the sunlight dancing round the curtains waking him from his slumber. the tasty breakfast he enjoyed while he raved on about heroes and quirks. everything had been going well that morning, so well. when he arrived at nursery there was good news, kacchan had finally manifested a quirk. it was a wonderful sight to behold, the little firecrackers appearing and fading like a flowing sea of fire. it was beautiful and a brilliant quirk for a hero. then came the downfall.

"oi deku, lets play heroes and villains. I'll obviously be a hero so that makes you the villain" while the boy was uncomfortable with the prospect he admired his friend too much to turn him down. the game was well played, a few scuffs and a few bumps but nothing that should have caused worry. it was at the time of the villains retreat that the whole world turned upside down "get back here deku" kacchan called, letting off sparks in an intimidating fashion. the boy tripped and fell, scrapping his knees upon the rough concrete. before he could cry out or even turn he was pounced upon by his friend. he was trapped under the weight of the bigger boy "got you now you damn villain" the blond boy gleefully smirked down, his hands started to crackle as he pulled them back "DIE" he yelled. thrusting his hands forward and letting off explosions, ones bigger than any he had done before, and all onto the back of the trapped boy. a flood of tears fell from the boys eyes, the stream easily outweighing the volume of the boys body. he yelled and cried but the stop of the pain and burning never came, he wondered why no one was helping him, why no one was stopping kacchan. "st-o-p" he pleaded almost unheard by his attacker. the heat of his friends quirk momentarily subsided "no" he heard the blond boy speak "you're the villain, so that means you need to die" he proclaimed returning to blasting the boys back. his green shirt had started to tear and the red skin behind was starting to tear, letting blood escape his veins. the boy couldn't speak as he lost consciousness, in his mind he still begged for help, pleaded for a hero to help him. none ever did.

the boy awoke in bed, in his childhood room. he felt weak and his back ached, he tried to move causing pain to flair across his small. he let out a cry and his mother came rushing in. "$%£ are you alright?" she asked, the boy shook his head as water flowed again. "-o one came" his mother stiffened at his quiet voice, so devoid of the joy it held that morning. "no one came to help me, not the teachers, to the heroes, not even all might" his voice was hoarse, the words like sandpaper. "i cried and no one came" his mother stiffened at his words "d-did you want food" the boy froze at her question. the gentle tone was the same but the question, the question was wrong. he decided not to respond and stared blankly out in the open until his mother left and closed the door. as soon as it did the tears were back on again. he felt all his emotions flair and die and be reforged over and over again. his mother did not care for him he realized. her concern for the safety or the feelings of her son were distant for her. he cried as he thought these thoughts. his father had left, his only friend had beaten him to unconsciousness, torched his back to burnt and bleeding and had not headed his pleas for mercy. and when he woke his mother had not spared a thought for his pain. the boy cried, he wanted to disappear. the flowing stream went on for hours. he needed to disappear.

the boy was shivering with cold as dawn approached. he had left his home for the last time after he heard his mothers bedroom door close. he ran, not bothering to look back or even where he was heading to. he still wore his burnt and torn clothes from earlier, still wore his luck red trainers. he had somehow stumbled upon a wreck. what looked like the remains of a house fire. only a few layers of brick remained and even then it was charred beyond recognition. the boy lay against one of these walls, hidden from the street as the early morning commuters passed by. the boy cried again, he once more did not care for how long he did, but unlike this time it was broken by the comment of another "pitiful" the word was laced with venom, and the tone was spiteful. the boy stopped the stream running down his face and looked up to find a boy with red eyes and short light-blue hair. "quit crying, no ones going to help. you're alone now, like me." the boy wiped his eyes removing the remains of his tears. "whats your name?" the red eyed boy continued. the boy was startled and stiffened slightly before returning to a lax state. "I'm- deku, you can call me deku" he resigned himself, not really caring what others thought of him anymore. "shimura, tenko shimura" the boy was almost ready to smile. before the voice of another interfered. a deep voice, calm and small but laced with authority. "no one came to save you, huh?" the two boys looked to the newcomer, a slightly hansom man who looked no different than any other. he looked to tenko, a small smile laced his lips almost invisible before looking over to the boy. confusion was visible and long lasting on his face before that too was washed away. "it must have been hard, huh, shimura tenko" he looked at tenko now ignoring the boy who had only arrived shortly before the man "heroes...Eventually, the heroes will...Everyone thought that and pretended not to see you, huh? Just who makes this world into what it is?" his voice had a certain persuasion to it, one that made what he spoke the unquestionable truth. he held out a hand to tenko "you didn't do anything wrong. it's fine. I'm here for you." the boy watched as tenko slowly reached out his own hand and took the mans, being pulled up to a stand. the man turned back to the boy "and you boy, have you been wronged? do you need help" he spoke once again offering his hand out. the boy looked down and though it through, probably for longer than he should have. when he looked up he had steely determination in his eyes he gave a firm nod and the man put on a genuine smile as the boy grabbed his hand. "a good choice"