Hizashi Midoriya had always been a fighter. He'd been kicked around a boxing ring for most of his life, he'd endured the chaotic journey of single-fatherhood, and he had once shot fire out of his nose and mouth simultaneously. But now, he felt like cold hand had wrapped around his heart and squeezed. He had been walking out of his gym when he heard a violent crashing and saw a bunch of people flocking to a car crash.

He pushed his way through the crowd, realizing that moments before, his son, Izuku, had gone ahead in that direction to browse the local Family Mart.

"Move, move. . . GET OUT OF MY WAY!" He stopped when he saw his nine-year-old son lying on the ground, a gash on his head, his small body bruised up and by his head was a pool of liquid leaking from a flipped truck. Several other cars had been involved in the accident as people were pulled from their vehicles with various. He broke through the circle of people and knelt by his son.

"Izuku? Izuku, hey, don't move. Can you hear me? Don't move, okay? SOMEBODY GET HELP!" The green-haired boy was panting, his hands trying to grasp his father.

"D-Dad? W-what happened?"

"Just don't move, son. . ." He looked around at the other wrecked cars until he saw an injured man, maybe in his forties, look toward him. His eyes were like bowls of milk, indicating the man was blind. "You're boy. . . he pushed me out of the way. He saved my life." Hizashi then saw Izuku hold his own face in agony, "Dad. . . Aargh! It burns. . ." He saw the black barrels marked with the hazardous waste stickers leak out a clear liquid, and noticed some on his bleeding child's face. The liquid emitted a smell similar to hot tar and sulfur.

"Oh God. . . Listen, Izuku, please. C-close your eyes." Hizashi panicked as he tried to wipe the chemicals off his son's face with his sleeve.

"D-d-dad. . . I can't see! I CAN'T SEE!"

A boy, around fourteen years old, sat in a confession booth in a church. He wore a simple dark green hoodie, jeans, and white sneakers. His foot tapped restlessly as he spoke to the priest on the other side of the grated wall. "Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It's been four months since my last confession." The child said. "My dad, he used to take me to this church when I was younger. He was a fighter; old school, a boxer. He lost more fights than he won, on a 24-31 record, before he. . . But, he could take a punch. Jesus, he could take a punch-"

"Language." The priest interrupted on the other side of the confession booth.

"Sorry, Father. The guys he went up against, he used to say it was like hitting oak. When he was out-matched, my dad's strategy was to let 'em hit him until they broke their hands." The boy chuckled, "He never got knocked out, I'll tell you that much. Knocked down, sure, but he always got back up. He was always on his feet when he lost. Every now and then, though. . . Every now and then he'd get hit and. . . something inside him would just snap."

He paused, the priest waited patiently. "My grandmother, she was a real Catholic. The fear of God ran deep in her. You would've liked her. She'd always say, 'be careful of those Midoriyas, they got the devil in them' and you'd see it sometimes. In the ring. . . his eyes would go dead, and he'd start walking forward all slow. . . hands at his sides like he wasn't afraid of anything. The other guy, he'd see that look and he. . . he'd try to get away from him. But my dad, he'd trap them in a corner and. . ."

Some emotion was seeping into his voice, ". . . Let the devil out. I didn't understand it, you know. . . What he was feeling deep inside, I didn't understand it." He felt a tear stream down his left cheek. "Not back then."

"But you understand it now?" The priest asked, "This would be easier if you'd tell me what you've done, child." The boy put on a pair of tinted, circular glasses. "I'm not seeking penance for what I've done right now, Father. I'm asking forgiveness, for what I'm about to do."

"That's not how this works. What exactly are you going to do?" The priest asked.

But the boy was already on his way out of the church.

That night...

Three girls in their early twenties struggled to break free as four men forcedly dragged them to a group of stacked shipping containers on a shipping dock. Their boss, a dark-skinned man with a thick but close-trimmed beard and black leather jacket, shouted, "Hey, hey! Shut up! We're getting a hundred thousand yen a head for the lot of you. So, if you be quiet, I'll give you a bucket." He said as he held up a white plastic bucket.

"But if you don't. . . " He held up a cattle prod and flicked it on, scaring the poor women even more and making them scream. The man just rolled his eyes and jabbed the closest girl in the side with it, making her twitch before her body went limp. The men threw the girls in the container.

"Come on, then. You can scream all you want. Come on, scream!"

A dark figure kneeled on one of the containers up high. The person wore all black and had a mask covering the top half of their face.

The girls screamed again as they saw him, a silhouette in the low light of the secluded shipping yard.

He jumped down and slammed his elbow into the back of the leader's neck. Then he stood completely still, listening as the kidnapper's friends rushed to his aid. One tried to run at him from the side, but twisted before clubbing him in the side of the head and knocking him down. Another tried to hit him from behind, but caught an open-hand strike to the solar plexus. He staggered before hitting the masked man in the stomach, but paid for it with multiple hooks to his face and torso. he was finished off with a kick to the stomach and a knee to his nose before he finally crumbled to the ground.

The first thug got up and tried to tackle, but the masked man rolled to the side before he felt something wrap around his leg. It was a tentacle connected to the man's back, and it pulled his feet out from under him. The goon tried to straddle him but was stopped when the man sent his foot into his crotch, then kicked him in the face as the goon dropped to his knees.

The leader pulled out a handgun, and the intruder rushed back into the maze of containers before the boss could pull the slide back on his pistol.

The masked man crept low along the top of the metal box before jumping down and deflecting a lead pipe being swung at his head, but the attacker swung again and caught him in the side. He slammed his leg into the man's knee, hearing the bones break and disconnect as the thug screamed in pain. He took the pipe and threw at the leader, knocking the gun out of his hand before picking up a knife that someone had dropped and throwing it with such force that it pinned his jacket to the side of one of the metal containers.

The man stopped again, and hearing nothing put painful groans and the leader struggling to escape, approached him.

"This is Italian leather, motherfucker! Who's paying for this shit, huh?" The man just effortlessly took the knife and threw it away. He then roundhouse kicked the man in the face, knocking him out. He heard police sirens and ran to the container where the girls were cowering. "Head towards Rudo street. Stick to the light and find the first police officer you see." The women just sat there, frozen in shock and fear. He hit the metal, creating a loud bang, "NOW!"

They complied and ran.

He heard the slide of another handgun. It was the first man with the baton, having lapsed back into consciousness.

The man jumped and flipped through to avoid a bullet in the back before he landed a kick to the man's arm. He wrenched the gun out of his hands and tossed it. The goon fell back to the ground as the masked man grabbed him by his shirt collar and landed a right hook to his jaw. Then he hit him again. And again. He did not stop until the man's face was a broken mess and his fists were soaked in blood. The thug would live. He might eat through a tube for a few weeks, but he would live.

Hinatabokko Orphanage was run by the nuns of St. Dainan's Church of the Nativity. Most children in orphanages were ruled by a hierarchical: the oldest and/or strongest get first pick at everything. It made handicapped and disabled kids easy targets for bullying and abuse by the other orphans. Of course, if any of the St. Dainan staff came across any such violence, a reckoning unlike any other befell the participants and any who encouraged it. Most punishments included being slapped on the wrists with rulers, extra long prayer and study sessions or a confiscation of their monthly allowances.

Izuku Midoriya held the record for most Rosary prayers for five years now.

He fought his whole life, and now he was as close as ever to his goals of becoming a hero. Maybe then he wouldn't have to work in the shadows and beat up muggers in back alleys while avoiding the law.

"How many fights have you been in this week, Deku?" Katsuki Bakugo asked as they walked to school together.

"How many times have I been to the principal's office?"

"None. Because no one wants to admit they got their asses kicked by a blind kid." The blonde said.

"Then why are you bringing it up?"

"Because it's unfair!" He exclaimed, "You barely have a scratch on your record when you pick more fights than I do!"

"Well, assuming that anything you just said is true, which I won't confirm or deny, it helps to not get caught." The blind boy said with a small smile.

Katsuki growled, "Yeah, yeah. Keep being smug. I'll still outshine you once we get into UA. Then everyone will know who the number one hero is and not take anyone's shit!"

"I think that'll depend on who breaks our tie streak."

Ah, the streak.

Since they both wanted to get into UA, the most prestigious hero school in Japan, they trained together a lot, and that included sparring. They had recorded the results of every round for the past year and the current score was 103 to 102, with Katsuki Bakugo leading.

While they both had their natural talents for fighting and sharp minds, Katsuki also had explosive(pun intended) reflexes that matched those of Izuku, which were boosted in the accident. In a fight with quirks, Izuku had no doubt that Katsuki could beat him, even if it would take time. But that wouldn't stop him.

"Are we gonna study together tonight?" The blonde asked.

Izuku shook his head, "I have bible studies."

"What the hell? I thought you were done with that after confirmation."

The green-haired boy shrugged. "It's a big book. Lots to study."

Katsuki scoffed, "Whatever. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Later."

He went one direction, to his home, and Izuku went towards St. Dainan's, going down some steps to take a shortcut through underpasses, folding up his cane and sliding it into his backpack. Now he just looked like a regular schoolkid with sunglasses on.

The boy walked with the confidence of someone who could see where they were going, just in case anyone thought it'd be fun to pick on the disabled. Not that he couldn't take them if they tried, but he didn't want to deal with that at the moment. His ribs still hurt from that pipe.

As Izuku made it to the next underpass, he paused. Kneeling to press his hand to the ground, the boy felt and heard a huge rush of fluids and debris move through the sewers underneath before going. . . up?

"Ha! I finally lost him!" Came a voice from the giant mass of sludge that erupted through the manhole under the bridge.

"And you'll make a perfect skinsuit for me to hide in, kid!"

'Oh crud. . . ' the boy thought.

Not like this. . . Not like this!

Just quit struggling and it'll be over, kid! I'm in control now!

DETROOOOOIIIT SMAAAAAAAASH!

"Hey, wake up! Kid!" Izuku's eyes slowly opened as he felt someone's huge hand lightly tapping his face.

Once he finally rose to consciousness, the boy vomited up some remnants of sewer water and sludge that the villain had left lodged in his throat. He shook his head and wiped his face to get all the gunk out of his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth before sitting upright.

"Jeez, thought we lost you there." Said a strong, booming voice from above him. The owner of the voice gave off this aura of sheer power that you didn't need to see to know.

"Y-you're- I mean- you're. . . " Izuku had to be dreaming.

"YES! IT IS I! All Might! And it seems like you're moving up and about." The Number 1 Hero observed as he stood upright. He had to be over two meters tall.

"Sorry about that back there. I didn't mean to get you caught up in an active villain chase, but the sewer system underground is so confusing, you know?" He explained before laughing triumphantly.

"But, it was all because of your sudden interference that I was able to capture the evil-doer!" All Might said as he held up two soda bottles.

'The world's most amazing hero in the world, the real thing. . . standing right in front of me. . . '

"No need to ask for an autograph, there's already one in that book of yours." He said before picking up the soda bottles containing the sludge villain he'd incapacitated and placing them securely in the pockets of his cargo pants.

"W-wait, sir!"

Before he knew it, Izuku was holding on to his pant leg as All Might jumped into the air, sailing over entire city blocks in seconds. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING, KID?! LET GO!"

"BUT IF I DO, I'LL DIE AT THIS POINT!"

"OH YEAH! HANG ON!" The two yelled at each other over the roaring winds before All Might managed to land on the roof of a skyscraper.

"That was beyond dangerous and reckless, boy!" The pro scolded.

Izuku bowed at the waist, "I know, sir. I wasn't thinking and I'm sorry, but there's something important I need to ask you." He said, making the hero raise an eyebrow.

"Can someone like me become a hero like you?" He asked, shutting his eyes and waiting for an answer.

"Um. . . What do you mean?" The pro asked. Izuku's eyes widened when he realized his cane was still in his bag and he'd lost his glasses.

"Well, when I was a little kid, I sort of got hit by a truck, and it took away my vision. Everywhere I turn, people have pitied me, made me think I was broken." The boy said. "But from the moment I lost my sight, I haven't given up on life. I want to become a professional hero so I can save lives." He declared.

"So, is it possible-?"

POOF.

". . . Kid, whatever you do, don't freak out."

Hello. This is my first story for MHA, but won't be the last!

I'm juggling a whole lot of things right now on this site, mainly between my RWBY fics and a few other Anime/Video Game ones that probably won't ever break 10K words, but I might post for fun.

I've got a couple more chapters already written out. This will follow the cannon Anime story as well as parts of Seasons 1-3 of Daredevil. You'll see characters from the Netflix show and beyond, as well as a few OC's that I want to find room for.

Feel free to give feedback on what you think, and expect chapter two this weekend (12/1/18).

-Fireballmonkey