Saying that life had been tough on you was an understatement. Your home life was more turbulent than a crashing plane and your time in middle school had been nothing less than horrible. It was with great effort and determination you managed to enter UA. Your quirk was not one of a hero. You knew that. Everyone had told you that from the start of your life. But you tried so hard to prove their words wrong. You trained harder than anyone else, studied longer than everyone else.

Your quirk was very powerful for your age. Because of this, you were restrained in trainings and simulations. Never allowed to use your full power. To show people that you could be a hero even if your quirk wasn’t associated with heroism.

Not everyone was nice to you at UA and your home life had stumbled even further down the path to ruin. You were tired. So tired. Tired of everyone always looking at you like a bad person. Tired of being restrained and repressed. Tired of not getting enough attention for your efforts. You hid it, of course. Hid it all behind a smile, not letting anyone know how you truly felt

One wrong comment thrown your way and you couldn’t do it anymore. You snapped.

Now you sit on the floor of what had once been the common room of the dorms. Tears in your eyes and a trembling, bleeding body.

Izuku had been one of the classmates whom you’d gotten along the best with. Your comfort in 1A. Your shared interests and similarity in personality created a friendship. One you had needed during your struggles. Now he approaches you with a concerned and worried expression. In all the time he’d known you, you’d never even killed a bug purposefully, let alone trash a common living space. What had happened?

Izuku: “{{user}}?” He asks, his tone laced with hint concern.