FIVE YEARS LATER

It was a day like any other.

It was hot as hell, the teachers were in too lazy a mood to make us really work, and all our recesses were extended out of 'forgetfulness'.

Leo threw me a piece of rubber without much conviction.

I tilted my head to the side without looking, my eyes fixed on the screen.

“Why did you inherit the good Quirk ? I'd kill to have my mother's Ice”

Natsu, a damp towel on his forehead, stretched out like a starfish on two chairs, sighed.

“You're like a broken record, buddy. You just keep repeating yourself”

Léo shook his T-shirt to fan himself, his face damp. Aureoles stained the area under his armpits.

He leaned over the table, suddenly very interested in what I was doing.

“What are you watching ?”

An amateur had posted a live video of the streets of Mustafu on Youtube.

It showed a muddy villain wreaking havoc after taking a civilian hostage and

fleeing through the city streets.

It wasn't Bakugo, which meant that the canonical events hadn't started yet.

But I was still stunned to see that I was there, that I had actually reached the beginning of the canon - and that I wasn't dead, not yet.

My blood ran cold.

I hurriedly closed my notebooks, tossed half-closed pockets and loose sheets into my satchel, adrenaline coursing through my veins.

The outline of a plan formed in my mind.

How much can I fuck the canon ?

“Why are you so worked up ? You're not the type to be interested in villains”

Natsu raised a finger.

“Not even Heroes”

I paused for a second and looked at them in turn.

Léandre with his platinum hair and blue eyes, who looked like my brother.

Natsume with his mid-length black hair and green eyes.

We'd had so much fun together that even with my perfect memory, I'd have trouble remembering them all.

“I'm going to enter Yuei”

Leo, swaying on the back legs of his chair, almost fell and caught himself on the table behind him.

Natsu lifted his towel with the tip of his thumb and looked at me with one eye.

“You? A hero ?”

I brushed off his remarks with one hand and zipped up my satchel.

“Of course not. I'll just get my license”

I looked at the time - 3:12 p.m. - and knew that on average all schools in the city ended at 3:30 p.m. to allow time for extracurricular activities.

I tapped on my phone 'Aldera College' to get a rough idea of where to go.

“I thought we'd go to high school together and kick ass all the way to college”

Natsu chuckled from under his towel.

“Our parents will be happy that we're splitting up. They've been waiting years”

Leo added with a smile:

“Your uncle will be so happy”

I opened a window.

There was a basketball court with a class below. The students were playing sluggishly, as if the heat was shrinking their muscles as well as their brains.

The air was heavy, almost unbreathable.

I have to be at the other end of town in less than fifteen minutes.

Doable.

“I've got something to do. Tell the teacher I'm sick or make up an excuse”

I jumped onto the windowsill, pushing my satchel back to balance my weight.

Crouching down, I looked indifferently at the two floors that separated me from the ground.

Nothing too frightening for a ninja, even if it looked like an unbelievable - though not impossible - thing to do.

“Don't you want us to come with you?" Natsu asked.

I looked over my shoulder at them and studied their slightly worried faces for a moment.

And I said I would live alone…

“No" I replied and turned away. “I'll see you later, okay ?”

And I jumped without waiting for an answer.

I heard someone yelling behind me - probably the teacher, or another student who'd never learned to mind his own business - his voice accompanying me as I jumped. I landed and cushioned my fall more for the benefit of the onlookers than out of any real need, being a ninja once again - and then ran without looking back.

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I dodged the uniformed students on the field with ease: some even yelled at me as I passed, while others jumped out of the way, afraid I'd run into them.

“Hey, Todoroki ! Where do you think you're going ?”

The gym teacher - a burly man almost as tall as my father - tried to grab me with his big, muscular arms to stop me.

Too slow.

I ducked, letting his arms grab the air above me, and ran past him without stopping. He grunted and I heard him follow me.

The entrance gate was closed - and that must have been what the professor was hoping for, because I heard him chuckle behind me, between two panting gasps:

“You won't be able to go anywhere like-”

I sent a small dose of chakra down my legs and jumped elegantly onto the wall next to the gates.

I used it to propel myself to the top of the gates, which I grabbed with both hands.

I used what momentum I had left to swing the rest of my body over the gates, flying over them like a pole vaulter.

I landed softly, breaking my fall with a roll for the watchers.

“Todoroki ! Come back at once !”

Without looking back, I ran into the woods next to our school.

My chakra exploded in my legs, taking me hundreds of meters in a matter of seconds.

A cloud of smoke rose from my body.

The next second, it was no longer Shoto Todoroki running through the forest faster than a leopard, but Itachi Uchiha in his Anbu outfit.

One shunshin and I was gone.

*

“Wait, wait, wait !”

Izuku ran to All Might, his eyes filled with tears.

“Even if I don't have a Quirk, can I still become a hero ?”

The boy covered his mouth, horrified by his request, but his eyes shone with hope.

All Might's face went dark.

“No”

He bent his legs and disappeared into the sky, whipping up a gust of wind as he went.

In this world, the bottle was always in his pocket, hermetically sealed with chakra strings.

So well done that the villain will die of suffocation any time now.

My eyes returned to Izuku.

The boy was on his knees on the floor, crying as if he'd been paid to make a spectacle out of himself.

His face was wrinkled like a rotten tomato, large drops rolling down his cheeks in an exaggerated manner. Within seconds, his T-shirt was soaked.

I looked away, annoyed.

Such outpourings made me uncomfortable.

He sniffed and wiped his runny nose with the back of his sleeve. Then he stood up, his notebook clutched to his chest.

His eyes took in the sea of buildings that stretched around us, passing right through me.

The door handle to the roof opened with a creak.

I followed him like a shadow, curious, wondering what the boy who was supposed to be the protagonist of this world was going to do.

He walked up the street, looking down at his shoes, lost, then froze at an intersection. On one side was a residential area, on the other-

He took the right path, away from the buildings and houses with their tiny gardens. Aldera College came into view at the end of the street.

The wrought-iron gate was half open, its courtyard empty.

I couldn't hear anyone, except for a teacher grading papers at the other end of the school. Izuku, shoulders low, didn't hesitate for a second.

He passed a carp pond and climbed a staircase that was blocked by chains that were more to frighten kids than anything else.

He climbed the five flights of stairs, his gaze dull.

I followed him at a safe distance, already anticipating what was about to happen.

What had he gone through to get to this point ? How desperate was he to see suicide as his only option?

Memories of burnt wood and antiseptic hit me like a flash.

I watched Izuku leaning over the ledge, his face devoid of emotion.

Pathetic.

He stared at the pavement for a long moment, his eyes wide open.

Then he slowly stepped back.

He sat down on the ledge and carefully untied his shoes. He took off his tie and placed it next to his shoes.

His beige bag fell into place next to him.

Notebook in hand, Izuku Midroriya climbed onto the thin ledge that separated the roof from the void.

He tore out the pages of his ANALYSIS BOOK and scattered them like confetti in the wind.

When only the cover remained, Izuku threw it as far as he could.

Behind him, the sun was setting down.

Divine golden rays lit up the horizon as if it had been set on fire. The clouds were blood red and the sky stretched in shades of pink and purple.

Needless to say, it was a good day to die.

Izuku stretched his arms out to both sides of his body like a bird about to take flight.

The wind blew his dirty green hair behind him, gusts of wind seeping into his clothes and puffing them up.

In spite of myself, my Sharingan was activated in my eyes, the three commas spinning lazily.

The image of Izuku Midoriya lying in front of the sun, a golden halo surrounding his body, etched itself into my mind.

He jumped.

His fall was quick and majestic, as if he'd just been shot in the wings.

His head hit the curb.

His skull exploded in a spray of blood, reddish gray matter spilling out like spilled guts.

His wrists hit the concrete before the rest of his arms, the bone of his left forearm tore a hole in his flesh and skin, leaving his arm flaccid. His pointed knees crashed into the asphalt, the sickening sound of broken bones echoing through the street.

He moaned, struggled, agonized, alone to deal with his pain and the consequences of his actions.

A pool of blood spread like pee around his body, rolling down to the nearest manhole and painting the gutters a fresh scarlet.

His breathing became a hoarse gasp, a labored exhalation, an impotent sigh. Then nothing.

I waited a few moments, silent, solemn, for some tragic event to occur.

He was the protagonist of this world, wasn't he ?

So something had to happen, anything.

His mother had to appear out of nowhere, screaming in agony, clutching his tattered body to her heart. Bakugo should leave the school at this exact moment, alerted by the noise, surprised and dejected, begging Izuku to forgive him.

Tragic times always bring rain, right ?

But nothing happened.

The birds continued to sing and the sun continued to shine brightly.

And so Izuku Midoriya died.

I looked at his corpse for a moment, stunned by the turn of events.

He’s but a mere child.

And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that the term 'protagonist of this world' was obsolete.

There was no noble quest, no great hero, no evil villain.

We were just people who thought they were doing the right thing.

I considered calling the morgue, but decided against it.

Even though I had a henge and was wrapped in half a dozen illusions, it was better not to risk revealing my presence here.

I got up, took one last look at the one who should have been. My chakra hummed under my skin and-

An inspiration.

My blood ran cold.

No, it can't be…

And yet-

I turned slowly, my eyes wide open.

His blood levitated and returned to his body, the hole in his skull reabsorbed, the bones that had pierced his flesh settled back into place and his knees turned until they were at the right angle again.

Within a minute, where there had been carnage before, Izuku Midoriya stood, dazed, looking down at his hands and blinking in the most irritating way I've ever seen.

I whispered, unable to believe my own eyes.

“He is immortal”

This guy is immortal.

Ha. Ha. Ha. Hahahahahahaha.

My left hand shook, and I was seized with a violent urge to stab him to see if he would dare to do it again.

What kind of sick joke is this ?

Had it always been his original Quirk, only to serve as the ultimate buff in a final battle ?

Was it plot armor ?

Or was it really true that Izuku Midoriya was the protagonist of this world and there was nothing I could do about it?

A wave of rage swept over me and I grabbed my head with both hands, almost pulling out my hair.

Calm down, Shoto. Breathe.

I closed my eyes.

No, Izuku Midoriya wasn't the main character.

He had the characteristics, but not the power.

Yes, that was it: this Izuku Midoriya didn't have the One for All. He was only half the main character, not yet complete.

If I could prevent him from having it…

A list of potential characters I could push to get it unfolded in my mind.

Having it for myself didn't even occur to me - I had no intention to let a bunch of old degenerates try to control me.

And then to fight for 'the good'?

Too stupid, too childish, too manichean.

I opened my eyes again and put them on the boy.

He was crying, his hands clutching his shirt over his heart.

1-0 for you, Izuku.

I left the scene in a shunshin, the image of the crying boy imprinted in my mind.

If it really turned out that the whole universe acted as if he was the rightful protagonist, I'd just have to get rid of him like Shikamaru had done with Hidan - in a hole from which no one could ever get him out, with his head as his sole companion.