My duffel bag was packed, and everything I thought I could use was on my person. Anything that wasn't important or necessary? It was being left behind. The scythe Death had given me was slung over my back, and I took a deep breath as I silently opened the front door of my apartment, slipping through it, then closing it just as silently as before. I smiled sadly and walked down into the parking lot of the apartment complex. I stared up at the stars, lost in my memories, but then snapped out of it when I realized that I wanted to get as far away from home as possible by the next morning.

I whirled around when I heard the familiar voice of my best friend, Nagisa Shiota. "So, where are you going at one in the morning?" He asked, and I turned to face him.

"Away, Nagisa. I can't keep doing this. My quirk is extremely dangerous, it'll be better for everyone if I'm not around." My smile was flimsy, and my friend cocked an eyebrow, clearly not impressed.

"Everybody's quirks are dangerous if used for ill intent, Izuku. You're no different. If you just learn to control it, you'll be fine." He raised a hand as I opened my mouth to protest. "But, if you're determined to leave, I'm going with you. I'm just as dangerous to society as you, and since we're both from abusive families, nobody will notice that we've left. Nobody will care. We're really young for runaways, but if you run, I will as well. You're my brother. If you want to run away and become a hero, I'll do the same. If you just want to be on the run your whole life, I'll do the same." His eyes looked distictly snake like, and I was shocked.

"You're agitated. You really don't want to leave me alone, do you?" I asked, and he shook his head. I sighed loudly. Neither of us bothered to keep our voices down because everybody in this complex was used to sleeping through screaming matches or angry sex, nevermind two eight year old children talking in normal voices. "Fine, you can come. But it isn't going to be fun, or easy." I warned, but he simply grabbed a bag, slung it over his shoulder, then shifted to his python form, which, even at age eight, was nearly two meters long.

(Nagisa'a python form's markings. Imagine this except almost 2 meters, or 6.56 feet long.)

Seven years later:

I jolted to my feet, imedietely pulling a knife from my hoodie pocket as I got into a defensive position. Instead of the police of other government officials, who I saw was instead three people; two red heads and a blond. All three were boys about my age, maybe a bit older, and all of them looked like dangerous people to have on your bad side. The blond glared, and the red heads just looked amused. "What the fuck do you want?" I said harshly, and the blond blinked in surprise.

"Listen, we're just wondering why four kids are on their own and obviously homeless." The red head with spiky hair and sharp ass teeth said, and I slowly moved into a less defensive position.

"Does it seem like that's any of your fucking business? Rehtorical question, don't answer. It's none of your fucking business, so just leave me and my small family alone." Denki was awake now, and stood by my side, a metal rod in his hand. "Wake up Nagisa, tell him to get Hazel out of here. She needs breakfast." Denki nodded before turning and nudging Nagisa awake. His eyes sprung open, but before Denki could tell Nagisa anything, Nagisa had shifted into his python form: 2.5 meters of dangerously powerful muscle and poison. He wrapped himself around my body, his head resting over my right shoulder as he hissed gently at the strangers. They stared in shock, but didn't do much else. They were either stupidly brave, or just incredibly stupid. "Nagisa, stand down." I said. "Wake up Hazel and get her some real breakfast. In my wallet there's enough money for the two of you to buy some pancakes or something. Get Denki and I some chips or energy bars, or something." Nagisa nodded, which looked reallystrange when he was a python.

When Nagisa left with a still half asleep Hazel, I sat down on the ground, hard. I put the knife away, leaned against the wall of the bridge we were sleeping under, and looked up at the three strangers tiredly. "If you guys are here because of the government, you can leave now." I even sounded tired, but I couldn't give less of a fuck if I tried.

"We're not here because of the government." The blond said, squatting down in front of me, looking at me with arrogant but intelligent red eyes. "We're just wondering where the fuck your families are. You've been here for almost a week, but I know you guys aren't from around here because everybody knows everybody in this town and the three closest towns."

"That's because Nagisa an I lived in Rhode Island, Denki lived in New York, and Hazel's family lived in Washington D.C. Nagisa and I were net door neighbors, but we both have dangerous quirks and abusive, single parents, so we left when we were eight. Denki here got kicked out of the house because his mom was a selfish woman who didn't want to lift a finger to help pay the bills,and instead relied on the support bills her ex husband sent to be used to take care of Denki. When he couldn't get work to pay for her expensive taste in everything from clothing to wine, he was kicked out. His dad still thinks he lives with his mom, because his mother "forgot" to metion it to him. Denki still cares for her, though, so he doesn't bother telling his dad, even though he should. And Hazel is an orphan. Her parents were both great heroes that were trained in Japan. They moved here, though because the United States lacks heroes that take the job seriously. They gave her an American first name because they wanted her to fit in with other kids. But some rich, self righteous asshole thought that the law was beneath him, so when he was taken to court for sex trafficking young children and teens, he paid his way out of trouble then murdered her parents in the middle of the night. Apparently, he didn't know Hazel existed, so she managed to get away. Because she's the only one of us that's actually had a half decent childhood, we try to spoil her as much as possible. She's the only one of us that actually has a half decent chance at a proper life." I ran a hand down my face, sighing as greasy curls of green hair fell to cover my face. Denki was sitting next to us, deep in thought. I jolted up when I realized something. I looked at my watch, and it showed the date. It was September fifth, and ten in the morning. "Shit! I forgot that today's September fifth." I scowled, but tears pooled up in my eyes. I grabbed the knife from my hoodie pocket, and sliced a deep gash into my forearm. There were twelve other matching scars.

"Woah! What the fuck, man! Why'd you do that? Are you okay?" The spiky red head asked, and I looked up at him.

"I do this every year. I do it twice a day between the hours ten and eleven in the morning. This knife was something I was attacked with on that very day. Because of this knife, three dozen people died by my hands. So, once a year, I will cut my skin twice, and I will continue to do so until there are three dozen scars on my arms. They will be a constant reminder of how much pain and misery I caused others." I slashed another deep cut into my arm, wincing slightly at the pain. "I allow no one to help me with these scars. I do not bandage them, I do not cover them. I allow them to bleed freely, and I do not do anything to help them heal, not even if they get infected. After there are three dozen scars on my arms, I will walk back to the place of the attack, and I will turn myself in on September fifth. But first, I will spend a week in the alleyway next to where the attack happened, and I will not eat or drink anything." I blinked away tears at the thought of so many innocent people dead by my hands. "I lost control of my quirk, I killed many innocent people, and so, I have decided to punish myself. I never meant to get the others dragged into this. Nagisa and Denki both know what I'll be doing in the future, but Hazel remains unaware. I'll never tell her what I plan to do or what I did, because I'd rather not burden her with that knowledge. I feel unimaginable guilt, but I will live on the streets for another twelve years to the day, then I will allow the government to decide how I should be punished." I pushed myself to my feet, stumbling, but refusing Denki's help with a sharp glare. I meticulously gathered our things, then slung the bags over my shoulders.

I walked out from under the bridge to see Hazel staring at me in shock. I stopped, realizing that she had heard. But she didn't run away, instead, she ran towards me, wrapping her arms around me, and I realized that she was too skinny for a ten year old girl, and the guilt became a ball of lead in my stomach. She pulled away, tears in her eyes, but I wiped them away with a shaky hand.

"It's okay, Haz. I'll be fine. Don't worry, okay?" She just shook her head, though.

"NO! I will never stop worrying about you! I always knew those cuts were self inflicted, I just didn't know why. You don't need to pretend to be strong, Izuku. We're willing to be strong enough to carry you forward if we need to." She looked at me hopefully, but I shook my head.

"I need to be strong enough to carry my own weight. It's the least I can do. Besides, you guys don't need to deal with this for my sake, honey. I promise I'll be fine. It makes me so sad to see tears in those lovely brown eyes, so wipe them away, okay? Everything'll be just-"

"Don't say it'll be fine! I cry because you refuse to cry. Whether it's because you think you're not worthy, or something else, I don't know, and frankly, I don't care. You always try to be strong, but we can all tell that you're breaking inside. You refuse help, but your eyes scream 'help me!' Please, Zuku, just let us help!" I shook my head, and stumbled forward to give her a hug.

I ended up collapsing in an alleyway when I took a walk. The others were talking with the strangers, but I wanted to be alone. The alleyway was actually mostly clean, so I didn't have to worry about an infection, but I refused to fall asleep. When I first started the cutting ritual, I'd promised myself that I'd stay awake for every agonizing moment of the day after the cuts. I didn't deserve sleep on that day. I didn't deserve to rest on the day that destroyed so many people's lives.

I jumped up when I heard rustling, and when twenty or so men appeared all around me, I sighed. I really didn't want to use my quirk on this day, but I knew that if I wanted to live past today, I'd have to use it. So, I summoned my scythe, then got to work, knocking the men out two or three at a time. I did it quickly and silently, landing in the center of a circle of sleeping bodies in less than five minutes. I saw a pay phone, so I dug out two quarters and called the police.

"What's your emergency?" The opporater asked, sounding urgent. Glad to know someone in the police cared about my well being.

"I was attacked by twenty or so members of the Blue Skull gang. I used my quirk to knock them out, but I figured you might want to know since this gang is well known for the raping, kidnapping, and murder of people of all ages." I said, then, giving her the street name the alley went of of, I hung up. I dug around in a dupster before finding a large coil of rope that I cut, binding the gang members together. There were eleven wonderfully tied up bundles of members by the time I exited the alley, all of them hit one extra time to make sure they stayed down.

Twele Years Later:

I stood in front of the spot where so many people had died by my hands. The area had been turned into a park, a giant monument to the lost souls standing in the exact place where the first man had fallen. He'd pushed a woman out of the way, saving her and her infant child. I was still as frail as ever, and just as greasy. I'd called all the family members of the people who had been lost, and now, they stood in front of me as I told them what I had done. When I finished, I got down on the ground, placed my forehead on the ground, and cried for them for the first time since I was ten. There were some people that yelled at me in anger, but not nearly as many as I expected. One old woman crouched in front of me, and lifted my head so I looked into her warm eyes. There was still pain in them, a pain that I knew would never go away, but she gave me a smile.

"You have done something very brave, young man. You gathered the courage at such a young age to set yourself on a path that would lead you down this path, to us, and I thank you for telling me about my son. It's a great relief to me to hear that he was selfless, even in his last moments. I thank you for telling me this." I cried silently as she hugged me, stunned that they weren't all out for my blood. When she pulled back, I pulled out the knife and set it between us.

"This was the knife that destroyed so many innocent people's lives. This is the knife that scarred my arms, and I will not blame you if any of you chose to pick up this knife and take my life. I would be happy for any of you to take the anger you probably hold towards me out on me, instead of those that do not deserve it." A man in the crowd just shook his head.

"I was so angry when my girlfriend was killed because the media told us it was a crazed murderer, but I can't hold that anger towards a young man who was attacked and lost control of his quirk. Sure, part of me is still angry, but you didn't mean it. And since you told up all so much information about our family members' last moments, it's put my mind at ease. You remembered them all, and you sacrificed your own blood to make it right." He said, and I did a double take. Others nodded, some looked lost in thought, but some still looked pissed.

"Hey! Wait a minute, you should've turned yourself into the police! You should have waited eighteen years to do this!" One man in his fourties yelled, and I walked towards him, summoned my scythe, and held it out to him.

"Every year on this day for the past eighteen years, I have made two cuts, to honor two different lost people. I lived on the streets, and only stayed with other people for a few years. I thought constantly about how this moment in time would go, I never slept on this day, and I have regretted losing control with every fiber of my being since I was eight. I called the police earlier, and told them to pick me up here at midnight. I visited each of your loved one's graves, left flowers, peace offerings, and noted in picture frames. I have constantly wished I could go back in time and change what I did, but I can't. If you do not feel that this is adequet for a punishment, take this scythe, something Death herself gave me, and do to me as you wish." I said quietly, forcing my voice to remain steady, my head bent down before him. "Personally, I do not feel this is enough toatone for the sins I have commited, but I could not think of anything else to do, and I refused to kill myself because I wanted to apologize to all of you for causing you unimaginable pain. They-your loved ones-do not blame me, but still, the guilt weighs heavily on my mind."

"Wait," The man said, snapping his fingers. "Can you summon our family members so that we can say good bye to them properly?" He asked, hesitant hope in his voice, and I straightened.

"I will see what I can do." I walked out of the crowd, found the point where the connection to the lost souls was strongest, then focused. 'Death, I wish to know something.' I told the woman, but she quieted me by covering my mouth.

'Hush, child. I have seen what you desire, and in exchange for a year off of your life span, I can summon all the souls for twenty minutes. That should be plenty of time, no? What do you say, companion to Death? Will you take the deal?' She sounded curious, and I nodded quickly. So, she stepped back, and led me through what to do.

When I came back to the real world, I knelt down, placed my hands on the ground, and focused on calling through the void for each of the souls. They all appeared, wreathed in white, shocked expressions on their faces at being on the plane of the living, staring at the one's they'd left alone for years. "To the families of each person I killed; you have twenty minutes to talk to them and say your good bye's. I know it isn't much, but I hope it will be enough to put your minds at ease."

The dead became visible to the living, and they even had solid forms. Each of the dead had acheived eternal paradise, so they were all wreathed in a golden-white glow. The living all lunged for the person they had lost, crying their eyes out, and the dead did the same. Though, I saw one of the dead that had lost his last living relative, and none of his friends had bothered coming. I walked over to him, smiling as he looked at me in shock. "I'm so sorry." I said weakly, tears blurring my vision, but he just shook his head, laughing.

"It's fine, Izuku. We never blamed you, and we never will. The others that watched over you during your whole life don't blame you either. You may have killed us, but you aren't responsible for our deaths. The man who stabbed you was, and he went to prison, then hung himself. He now burns for eternity instead of facing what he did in life like you did." He hugged me, and I sobbed loudly, my knees collapsing beneath me as I let all the sorrow and anguish that had consumed me for years finally flow free. I had told several people in the crowd to record the whole thing and post it online, because I wanted the world to know that I was sorry for the death and sorrow I had caused. It was my way of apologizing for such a sad event without the media fucking it up, or someone doubting what I said because of the possibility of people feeding me lines to tell the world.

As the time ticked by slowly, I remained on my knees before the monument to the lost souls. The monument was an obsidian wall with the names of the people lost in the attack, along with their date of birth and date of death, just like the Vietnam war monument in Washington D.C. The discomfort I felt was nothing compared to the pain I had caused others. Hazel had visited shortly, hugging me tightly and crying, but I'd sent her away after a while. I knew Katsuki, Karma, Eijiro, Hazel, and Denki were in this park, but they didn't get any closer, and I appreciated it. When the sirens wailed towards my position, I stood up and looked at where my friends were. "I love you guys! Be safe and careful, okay?" I yelled and I got several yeses, as well as soul wrenching sobs. As the police surrounded me, I walked towards them, tossed the knife on the ground at the captain's feet, then got down on my knees, my hands in the air.

"You are under arrest for the charge of the murder of three dozen people. You do, however have the right to remain silent." The woman that put the handcuffs on me said, but I didn't get in the car right away. Instead, I turned to look each and every officer in the eye.

"I will not deny that I murdered those innocent people. Nor will I tell you you have the wrong idea, and that you shouldn't be mad at me. I will however, say this; I regret that that event happened. Not because of the fact that I'm being respected, but because every human's life is valuable, and I ruined not just those three dozen lives of the people I killed, but also their family, their friends, their coworkers, their classmates, or anyone else who knew and cared for them. Seven lifetimes wouldn't be enough to express how much I regret losing control of my quirk, and how much sorrow I feel for the loss of each person's life. None of them blame me, but I feel like it's my fault, because it is. But I am turning myself in to hopefully be able to make up for even a fraction of the pain I caused. To those of you who spent eighteen years searching for me, I'm sorry you had to deal with such a case." Then, I turned and got into the police car without a fight, leaving all the police officers silent and shocked. I took a deep breath, calming my racing heart, but didn't fight against the police officers. I didn't deserve to, I didn't want to, and so, I wouldn't fight, even if they chose to take my life for the crime I commited.

"So, tell me." An officer said from the passenger seat said, turning to me. "What exactly happened for you to lose control of your quirk?" He asked, his red eyes reminding me of Katsuki and Karma.

"A man stabbed me in the gut, and while I was in extreme pain, my quirk activated, but since I was seven, I wasn't able to control the immense power of it, so I lost control, and since my quirk has to do with Death, demons, angels, and things like that, I accidentally summoned demons that went on a rampage. They weren't properly bound to me, and they were too powerful. The only reason the killing spree stopped was because I passed out. The police department thought I was just a victim, and my father who wanted me around for him to abuse, payed the police department to let me go. I ran away from home less than a year later, along with my next door neighbor who was also powerful, abused, a had a dangerous quirk. We spent about ten years together, and others joined up. One was a little girl whose parents were heroes but were murdered by some self intitled rich asshole, one boy our age was kicked out of his home, and three others joined us around twelve years ago because they wanted to find out who they were, and what their place in the world was. I left them alone in the middle of the night about eleven years ago, left my stuff behind with a note in my bag. They all knew what I planned to do was I had left three dozen scars on my arms, one for each of the people I killed, but me leaving was kind of a spur of the moment thing. I spent the past eleven years researching by myself each of the people I killed, then traced through them to find family members, friends, partners, or any others that were really close to them. A week ago, I contacted the families of each of the victims to tell them what I had done, on the day I would add the two final cuts to my arms. I wanted them to know how sorry I was, and I wanted those closest to the people I killed to hear what happened with their own ears, and not through the mouth of some police officer. I wanted them to have the full and complete truth. I gave up a year of my life time so that they could have one final good bye with their loved ones. I wanted them to have the opportunity to take their anger out on me, but almost none of them were angry at me after I explained. None of the dead blame me, but I still know I'm guilty. That's why I called you guys two weeks ago. I've spent the past week in that park, thinking about every person I killed, reflecting on what I'd done, and both wishing to be punished properly, and to be forgiven. This is the final phase of my plan. After a week long vigil of doing nothing but sitting and thinking, I have turned myself in, just like I promised myself I would do back when I was seven." I sat quietly after that, letting them mull over what I'd said.

"Well damn." The guy said, looking out the window. "When we started this case, we expected a cold blooded killer, not an eight year old kid who couldn't control his quirk. I feel really bad that we have to arrest you, probably for life, but it's the law..."

"I know." I said, smiling gently. "I've been preparing for this moment for years. I'm finally able to fulfill my plan. Even if I go the rest of my life in jail without parol, I will live knowing I did everything short of taking my life that would make up for the sin I commited that day. Even if nobody visits, which I hope is the case, I will be happy knowing that my quirk can't cause any more danger. I just want you guys to know that Death gave me a scythe, one that I could summon at will, but I will never use it without permission. I must warn you, though. Without Death's permission, nobody can touch the scythe without seeing terrible things, and even if you were to lock it up in an evidence locker, it would enter the plane of the reapers after two hours, maybe." The woman who had handcuffed me nodded, eyes on the road as she drove. The man clicked off a recorder, giving me a guilty smile.

"Sorry, kid. But I had to record the whole conversation. Maybe hearing your story can lessen the punishment." I didn't want a lessened punishment, but the look in his eye as he locked eyes with me in the rear view mirror warned me not to argue. So, I settle back into the seat, preparing for the rest of my punishment, comforted in the knowledge that I could finally make up at least partially for some of the sorrow I caused. And I knew, that when I went to court, when a lawyer asked me to tell them all what happened, i would tell them the full truth. I would ask them to not lessen the punishment just because I was a kidwhen it happened, or for any other reason. I would beg if I had to, for them to find me guilty, and to let me finally pay for the suffering I had caused. Because i deserved it.