I just wanted to stand there, looking at the sky, thinking about nothing, and breathing this dirty, smog filled air. But I had to move. I needed a place to hide, new clothes, and food.
Over the next several hours, I had to hide, search for the right stores and warehouses, and frantically learn and use my unexpectedly awakened Quirk. Moving quickly through the alleys, I tried to sense my Quirk more clearly. I tried to bring back that feeling of the surrounding space and of what had been emanating from me during that state. And there was a result, pitiful compared to before, but there was one.
That substance, it was inside me, flowing through my limbs, but it could not leave my body. When I tried to pass through a stone wall, the substance began to pulse at a certain rhythm inside my body. It was interesting, but I had no time for further experiments. It worked, and that was fine. Most importantly, it allowed me to break into a closed children's clothing store. I looked unsightly at the time, in stained white clothes issued by those medics, and with my head wrapped in some strange rag in case there were cameras. There I changed clothes and took a cleaner rag. The food store went similarly.
Finding a place to sleep was more problematic. I managed to find an empty warehouse with some tools, but I did not want to sleep on a bare concrete floor. I had to search for a nearby empty apartment, from which I could take a blanket and a quilt for my makeshift bed.
Settling in and quickly eating the stolen food, I lay down to sleep. Or rather, I tried to, because I started shaking with chills. The fear that they would find me and lock me back in my cell drove me forward and gave me strength all that time, but once I relaxed, exhaustion and confusion overwhelmed me.
Thoughts raced feverishly through my head, and it seemed that with a little more, steam would start coming out of it. I was full of doubt, analyzing and criticizing my actions, and thinking about what I wanted and what I was capable of. My first desire after escaping was to find the nearest hero or police station and tell them everything. Then a question appeared in my head: "What next?"
Well, I would tell them that I had escaped from some laboratory where they experimented on children. I would describe the appearance of that mustachioed kidnapper. Unfortunately, all the staff in the lab I had seen were wearing medical masks and identical coats. They would shake their heads, express their regret, and assure me they would find the kidnappers. Then they would send me to an orphanage, and a couple of weeks later, an orphan with an interesting Quirk would disappear. It was hard to believe in the law when I was kidnapped practically from the doorstep of an orphanage. So this organization had connections. I needed to hide from them, gather my strength, and kill them. I hated them as much as I feared them. I should have killed (absorbed) them all in that state. They were a threat (so tasty).
Stop.
Staring at my hands, I tried to stop the shaking. They were my kidnappers, so I did not feel sorry for them. But the main thing was that I had killed, and I had enjoyed it. As soon as my Quirk awakened, my first action was to grab the nearest person and absorb his life, savoring the whole process. A great start to a villain's career. Yes, I know that heroes can kill villains in extreme cases, though society condemns it. But they do not enjoy it. And excuses like "I was not myself" would not work — that is just self deception. It seems that with or without a Quirk, I could never become a hero. No one needs a hero who enjoys killing.
Well, to hell with that. No one saved me. I saved myself. I can only rely on myself and my own strength. And if to achieve my goals I need to become a villain, then I will become one.
***
In a deserted warehouse on the edge of the city, a boy wrapped in a blanket made himself comfortable and closed his eyes, hoping to lose himself in sleep, if only for a short while.
Four years later.
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Night began to fall over the districts of Japan's capital, Tokyo. While for ordinary citizens this meant the long awaited end of the workday and the imminent return home, for entertainment establishments and people with criminal records, it was only the beginning of their "work shift." Perhaps the current state of the criminal world could not compare in influence and size to what it had been before the appearance of All Might, but as long as there was profit, it would continue to exist, luring both new "workers" and victims into its web.
A group of five young people walked laughing down one of the empty alleys. The leader, judging by the fawning behavior, was a blond dressed in a leather jacket and blue jeans, who at that moment was telling a funny story from his latest drinking binge. That was until one of his listeners, with scaly hands, noticed a child standing in the middle of the alley.
"Hey, brat, you lost or something? I think it's time for you to go running to your mommy. So get lost while we're still being nice."
Stopping, the guys looked with interest and mockery at the kid, expecting him to run away in fright. However, ignoring the scaly guy, the boy in a hoodie looked intently at the blond and, after a second, said:
"You are the villain 'Dissolver' Yakushi, right?"
These words made Yakushi and the others frown. At every robbery, he carefully disguised himself, and his Quirk, which allowed him to dissolve non living objects, was carefully hidden in everyday life. He even managed, with some outside help, to change its description in the state database. So being recognized by some unknown child was an unpleasant surprise.
"Guys, grab the kid. He knows too much. And you, boy, do not resist. Uncles need to have a thorough talk with you."
Yakushi said, looking with a cold gaze into the boy's red eyes and feeling a strange unease. When the henchman next to him, with bony eyebrows, headed toward the kid, he quickly looked back, fearing an ambush. But the sound of a falling body quickly brought his attention back, and the sight of a knife handle protruding from the henchman's eye socket made him jump back and reach for the pistol under his arm.
At that moment, the three other guys who had hesitated for an instant rushed at the red eyed boy. The first to strike from the right was the guy with scales on his hands, but the boy smoothly dodged to the left side, ducked under his arm, and with a sharp motion cut the axillary vein with a knife in his hand. One of the remaining two attacked with a knife in his hand, while the other clasped his palms together in a prayerful gesture.
The knife wielder stared in shock as his opponent's hand, harmlessly passing through the knife, grabbed and yanked his leading hand aside. Then he convulsively clutched his cut throat. The remaining man, no longer paying attention to his whimpering comrade with blood flowing from his armpit, spread his arms toward the boy who had suddenly become deadly. A cone shaped stream of fire engulfed one side of the alley. The screech of the burning man died almost immediately.
The fire Quirk user breathed convulsively, ready to confirm the enemy's death or finish him off. The sudden sound of a falling body made him spin around sharply. Yakushi, who had been waiting for an opportunity to shoot, lay unconscious, and the short silhouette was already aiming a pistol at him. Trying to quickly clasp his palms together, the boy cried out as he clutched his shot wrist.
The boy approaching him suddenly spoke.
"That was close. I did not expect your Quirk to be that strong. Judging by your past condition, you can launch at most two attacks of that power. But it does not matter. Your name is Denki, right? What I am about to do, you will not like. If you were not a thug, none of this would have happened. But History doesn't allow for 'what ifs'."
The red eyed boy spoke and grabbed him by the throat. Denki, who wanted to push him away, felt weakness and cold wash over his entire body. He stared in fear at the bright, colorful streams of energy, like rivers of paint, entering this… this monster. The last thing Denki saw before his vision was swallowed by darkness were the crimson, indifferent eyes.