As the boy's words echoed throughout the bar, I felt annoyed. All Might was never my favourite of the heroes, I've always hated him; however, hearing that he was just as selfish in his personal life as he was as a hero made me sick.

Heroes as a whole made me sick.

They all turned their backs on me years ago, and they did the same for Yagi Izuku – they all deserved to suffer for everything they've done.

While the majority of Yagi's story about his experiences with All Might was new information to me, it wasn't shocking to hear about All Might's quirk, One for All, and its capabilities to be passed from user to user. Master raised me to be his successor, so he taught me of the quirk's existence from a young age – but it was funny to think about the current situation all the same.

Yagi's father was All Might, and now he would be on our side. I could only imagine the face he would make upon hearing of his son's betrayal. It would be incredible, and I was dead set on being there to see it. It was always a fun thing for me to imagine – the looks on the faces of those I despise when they slowly piece together the full picture, I mean. It made my heart yearn for each confrontation – despite my outward appearance of annoyance as these encounters take place. Really, as I glance at the heroes trying so desperately to stop me, I feel a sense of purpose and ecstasy fill me like a drug I just can't get enough of.

Although, it wasn't only All Might's expression that I would be able to watch with glee as it twisted and morphed through phases of confusion and melancholy, as Yagi's mother was Attraction – yet another hero who had deceived and neglected to save the boy. Izuku was the proof of the revelation that heroes were a poison sweeping across our nation – our world; Izuku was living proof that heroes couldn't be trusted with their power and influence; Izuku would be the proof we needed to show the world of the plague they've invited as protectors to save us.

They should have been reprimanded for their despicable behavior; they should have been imprisoned for destroying our buildings, our streets, our futures; they should have been the ones cast out by society – not us.

If even the most famed hero on Earth would go as far to mentally scar and neglect his own son, who's to say others wouldn't follow in his footsteps?

They needed to be stopped; they needed to be put down.

As well as the world's current heroes neglecting a child in desperate need of help, society's future heroes took it one step further. You would think children aspiring to be heroes would have helped him, but rather than helping him, they would harass and bully their peer to the point of taking his own life. This society was sick.

This fourteen-year-old child had been through so much trauma just for wanting to become a hero. His pure intention; his pure heart; his good, genuine ideals, and his motives to save others were twisted and molded into what he was today.

Another outcast: another monster – like me.

All by society; all by the heroes; all because he was different. The real villains were those who watched idly. The real villains were those who tortured and tormented a child because he was weak. The real villain was society, and I would do everything in my power to cleanse this godforsaken world. I, along side the League of Villains, would do everything in my power, to rid this world of the corrupt. I would do everything in my power to free those brainwashed by society.

I would do everything in my power to free humanity from those whom they call heroes, and then I would rule them.

The information I'd gathered on Yagi Izuku was extensive. It made him out to be a delinquent. Skipping class; sleeping during lessons; failing to return over fifty assignments during his junior high career – the list only went on. Although his record would answer my question regarding All Might's failure to mention his existence to many, something still felt wrong.

Deciding to further my personal investigation, I chose to go to the scene of the boy's death and interview some of the teachers. With any luck, I hoped to fill in the blanks left in the story.

I waited until Thursday evening after club activities to drop by, and luckily when I arrived only the teachers were still on campus. So, I sought out the principal, who then gave me the clearance to interview the teacher under the alibi that I was researching a suicide case – which technically wasn't a lie.

As I walked through the halls from the principal's office, I found the closest door and officially began my interview with a knock and a faint response.

"Hello, my name is Aizawa Shota. I'm a pro-hero and the teacher of U. A's class 1-A." I started.

The teacher in question had golden and yellow-tinted hair combed back with a large hairline – which accented the burgundy dress coat he wore overtop his red, plaid sweater.

"The U.A high?" He repeated with an awe-stricken tone. "That's incredible! My name is Sazuki Reo. How can I help you?" His voice echoed with excitement.

"I'm here researching a suicide case. Did you, by chance, teach a Yagi Izuku at any point in the past three years?" I spoke, uninteresting in beating around the bush.

I watched attentively as his features changed gradually through states of melancholy as he remembered.

"Yes, I did know him. I was his homeroom teacher." He answered, regret filling his voice.

I then noticed a desk in the middle of the classroom, overflowing with flowers. As I studied each petal on the Carnations, it became apparent that this was the person who I needed to speak with the most to understand what I needed to know.

"Would you mind telling me what you know about the student?" I asked Mr. Sazuki.

Tensing up as I finished my sentence, my suspicions of a deeper case were only inflated. I could tell there was more to this kid's life than what his file read, and I planned to get to the bottom of it.

Frustration and hatred flowed through my veins like water in a winding river with dangerous curves and twists as I laid in my bed, staring up at the wooden ceiling. I had suppressed my emotions for so long, but after retelling my story to Shigaraki and Kurogiri, everything was different. I could see in a new light – a dim light; I breathed different air – a bittersweet air; I felt different blood flowing in my vein, and this blood was a deeper red than before.

I was different, and I was angry.

I wanted to slaughter everyone who had ever laughed, mocked, or embarrassed me. I wanted to make them all see that I wasn't the defenseless Deku they had once known. I wanted them all to see that I wasn't the same defenseless kid, hellbent on becoming a hero as I had before. I wanted them all to know that I would still become a hero, but not the one I had always wished I could be.

I was going to proclaim from the rooftops that I – the infamous Deku who was cast out by everyone around me – was responsible for the fall of the society that brainwashed humanity. I wanted them all to know the kid branded as Deku by society, saved them all from the negligence and hypocrisy of the world.

I would become the true Symbol of Peace.

Glancing at my clock, I realized I had been awake all night and quickly shot up to my feet. My schedule was carefully crafted by Shigaraki to allow me six hours of sleep per night; however, I would often lie awake at night by mistake.

Every morning, Shigaraki takes me through the city's alleyways to map them out in my head, and afterward, we would train for a little under five-and-a-half hours. Then, I would have classes with Kurogiri – seeing as I'm still only fifteen.

As I walked towards my en suite, preparing to use the twenty minutes I had before breakfast wisely, I remembered an important event occurring the following month: the U.A entrance exam.

It had been almost nine months since my death certificate had been signed, eight months since I had officially met Shigaraki and Kurogiri, and seven months since I had begun my training. Shigaraki told me I was an abnormally fast learner; although, whenever the subject would come up, I could always hear him utter a string of cusses related to being old – despite him only being a few years older than me. Regardless, we were making progress, and the months had been going by so fast that it almost felt unreal to think I'd been here for so long.

Before I had knocked Shigaraki down a few months before, though, the days felt slower than they did when I was legally alive. However, after that day, he began training me with different methods. Rather than throwing me in the bull pen, he began teaching me technique – which I had been severely lacking – and over the seven months he had been training me, my repertoire of fighting knowledge and hand-to-hand combat was sufficiently increased. I still couldn't amount to Shigaraki – him having been trained in this lifestyle for several years longer than myself – but I was improving.

I was grateful to be learning from Shigaraki. My technique and martial arts skills were flawed in several ways – like the way I punched with my thumbs tucked in, thinking it would protect them; although, that is the exact opposite way you should punch. Another thing he taught the fact that footing was a crucial part when boxing. Without Shigaraki's teachings, I would never have never been able to protect myself.

I began getting ready for my day by brushing my teeth, washing my face – moisturizing, sunscreen, y'know, the works – and then I put on an ivory hoodie and black jeans before heading out to the bar to get something to eat. Then, just a handful of minutes later, Shigaraki came down to the bar to get me, and we began our run.

As my interrogation continued, my suspicions were proven to be right. Mr. Sazuki confirmed that Yagi was an amazing student, despite what was said on his file. I also learned that Yagi was quirkless, and as a result, was severely bullied. Mr. Sazuki said he had seen Yagi being abused at school; however, he never thought to intervene – saying he thought Yagi would work it out on his own.

He said if he could go back, he would have stopped the harassment his student had endured under his supervision; although, that didn't change the fact that the boy had been abused at schoond he overlooked it.

I asked him for the names of the kids that bullied Yagi and afterward, I continued on to the next classroom while making a list of teachers to report to the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Board of Educationfor negligent behavior resulting in the preventable death of a student.

Walking through each classroom and talking to virtually every teacher, they all gave similar answers, explaining that the boy was kind-hearted and had big ambitions – in spite of his public record. As well as the similar answers regarding the boy's personality, they all gave the same insight into the abuse at school that he endured. The majority knew what had been happening and who to discipline; however,that none of them chose to intervene.

As I terminated my interviews, I ended up with a list of names so large, I realized the entire school needed to be revaluated for its unorthodox practices and negligence. Making a mental note to deal with that issue later, I walked away from the school, thinking only of the three names that were consistently highlighted by the educators throughout the duration of my interviews: Yagi Izumi, Todoroki Shoto, and Bakugou Katsuki.

After my lessons with Kurogiri, Shigaraki would take me from four in the afternoon until half-past seven for combat trainingtechnique training, which spans from half-past six in the morning until noon and he actually teaches me stuff, during combat training, we spar. No quirk usage, and no weapons – all we do is old-fashioned, hand-to-hand combat.

We had only been in the training for ten or fifteen minutes; however, I was already doing better than I usually would. Shigaraki ran towards me, preparing to uppercut me, but just before his fist came into contact with my jaw, I roundhouse kicked him in the head.

His body rushed back towards the floor, and I began to prepare myself for when he would jump back to his feet and knock me down; however, the longer I waited, the more clearly I could see.

He was unconscious.

I walked closer towards him with an awe-stricken expression as I further confirmed that I had knocked him out, and as I did, I felt a surge of excitement rush through me.

I could barely believe what I was seeing. He was lying on the floor with small traces of blood escaping past his lips and a peaceful expression, solidifying the revelation that I, Izuku Yagi,knocked out the Shigaraki Tomura.

This was the greatest day of my life!

Kneeling down, I attempted to pick up Shigaraki so I could take him to Kurogiri, but as I tried to lift him, I realized that I was still too weak and scraped the idea. With little to no idea of what to do, I decided to run towards Kurogiri and leave Shigaraki. I ran as quickly as I could, fearful that Shigaraki was badly hurt, and upon arriving I was already gasping hungrily for air.

"Shiga..." I started through gasps. "...raki..."

"Yagi?" Kurogiri interrupted.

"Training... room..." I continued. "Dead..."

Rushing down the hall to the training room, Kurogiri left me while I laid, dead on the floor – waiting impatiently to hear how Shigaraki was doing while I drifted to sleep.

I woke up in my room with a headache and an inability to remember anything. I always hated the feeling of naps for this reason, but I didn't remember falling asleep, so I ruled out that possible answer to my lack of recollection.

Quickly, I sat upright in my bed and looked to my nightstand where I saw a glass of water and an aspirin. It became obvious to me I must have hit my head, so I took the medication and water before slowly standing up and seeing Yagi asleep on my couch.

Seeing him so peaceful as he slept, it was sad to think he once tried to take his own life. His mind was twisted and ruined with thoughts of vengeance and hatred, though you'd never imagine it based on how he looked when he slept.

Grabbing the comforter from my bed, I draped the blanket over his cold-looking body and walked toward the bar – bound for Kurogiri and his endless fountain of knowledge.

"What happened?" I started as I sat down on a bar stool in front of Kurogiri. "I feel like I was hit in the head by a falling vending machine." I spoke, drinking more of the water I had picked up on my nightstand to soothe my gravel-like voice.

"Young-Yagi kicked you in the head. You passed out shortly after." Kurogiri replied with amusement leaking into his voice.

Yagi?

He knocked me out?

I never thought I would see the day when he knocked me unconscious. Taking a sip of my water, I thought back to the day Kurogiri and I had found Yagi. He was weak, awkward, and sweaty with no idea how to block a punch. He had come a long way since then, and I didn't think he would be so strong after such a short amount of time. I didn't think he'd be ready to meet Master so soon.

I didn't think I was ready for him to meet Master so soon.

"I suppose this means you'll be taking Young Yagi to meet All for One finally?" He asked as if he were reading my mind.

I had always planned that once he could finally beat me in a proper fight, I would introduce him to Master; although, there were still things I wanted to teach him beforehand. Maybe th,t was an excuse, though.

"I think I can still teach him something before he meets Master." I explained, glancing to meet Kurogiri's eyes, who could clearly see through my attempt at stalling, but he made no objection.

As my eyes fluttered open, the first thing I could see was the wallpaper in Shigaraki's room. I had always admired his room. The walls were painted to be a gorgeous burgundy color, paired with mahagony wood for the floor and shelfs. Thanks to my complaining, to give the window-less room life and character, Shigaraki recently placed several green plants about the room – large Madagascar dragon tree in the corners, and plants ranging from small to medium on the shelves. I had my suspicions they were fake, though, as Shigaraki quite literally kills everything he touches. In addition to the plants, Shigaraki had also invested in some nice abstract paintings and busts.

In the corner of his room, Shigaraki had a very extravagant gaming set up with several separate monitors, screens, and keyboards. That was his favourite part of the room, of course.

I looked over towards Shigaraki's bed to see if he had woken up yet; however, when I saw he wasn't there, I shot up to my feet to look for him – not without noticing his blanket that had previously been draped over my form, though.

He truly was like an older brother.

He was more caring than my biological family ever was. I didn't care what anyone said, he wasn't a villain; he wasn't a criminal; we weren't criminals, we were all just misunderstood.

Pulling myself from my thoughts, I began to make my way towards the bar – knowing that Kurogiri was there, so Shigaraki was most likely with him. As suspected, Shigaraki was in a conversation with Kurogiri.

"I think there's still more I can teach him before he meets Master." He spoke in a raspy voice.

"What else can you teach me, and who is 'Master'?" I asked in a voice filled with honey and curiosity.

Both Shigaraki and Kurogiri's eyes followed my voice and watched as I walked to an empty bar stool and sat down; however, neither of the two would answer.

"Yagi, how would you feel about learning to handle firearms?" He spoke after a few moments, disregarding my second question.

I grinned at the two as I nodded my head in anticipation of the future fun we would have; although, there was still one question lingering on my mind.

Who was Master?