The morning began like any other.
Cold air. Empty stomach. Hikaru digging through a trash bin behind a shuttered convenience store, searching for anything edible. His clothes were torn beyond repair, his hair tangled, his skin nearly colorless from years underground.
But nothing felt out of place—until the pull hit him.
A violent jolt in his chest. A tremor under his ribs. His quirk tightening around his spine like a fist.
Then a whisper slithered through his skull:
"Fear…""So deep…""Let's go."
Hikaru's breath hitched. Not this again.
He clenched his fists, bracing himself against the dumpster. "I'm not going anywhere!" he barked out. "Stop pulling—STOP!"
But the shadows didn't listen.
They never listened.
A surge of invisible force yanked him forward, dragging his feet across the pavement as the shadows pooled beneath him like living smoke.
Hikaru screamed, clawing at the ground. "STOP IT! LET ME GO!"
His quirk only tightened its grip.
"Fear… more… more… we want more…"
And the world blurred.
Shadows swallowed him, hurled him through the old subway infrastructure, and spat him out somewhere completely unfamiliar.
A massive domed structure.Broken water waves from a manufactured flood zone.Smoke. Fire. Screams.
Hikaru stumbled forward, gasping—Then froze.
He was standing in the middle of a battlefield.
Students huddled together in scattered groups, clearly panicked. Villains surrounded them. And towering above the chaos was a monstrous figure — muscle-bound, bird-faced, skin dark and grotesquely stitched.
Hikaru blinked. What… is this place?
The answer came when his quirk jerked him sideways.
An attack sliced through the space where his head had been moments before. Hikaru hit the ground, rolling. A villain stood behind him, confused—"What the—?"
Shadows burst from Hikaru's spine like whips.
Before Hikaru could stop it, a massive shadow-hand formed, grabbed the villain by the throat, and slammed him into the concrete so violently the ground cracked under the impact.
"STOP! DON'T KILL THEM!" Hikaru screamed.
His voice ripped across the battlefield.
Everything halted.
Students turned as one, staring at the pale, ragged boy suddenly standing between them and the villains.
"Who is that…?""He just appeared out of nowhere—!""He doesn't look like a hero…""Did he just take down a villain with his quirk?!"
Hikaru felt their gazes prickling against his skin like needles.
He hated it.
He hated them.
People always looked at him like this—scared, judging, whispering about the boy from the news. And this time, it was even worse. The students instinctively stepped away from him, forming a shaky semicircle.
Then—
"Hikaru…?"
His head snapped up.
Momo Yaoyorozu stood there among her classmates, eyes wide with recognition.
And just like that, the whispers turned into panicked murmurs:
"Wait—Hikaru Amano?""The demon child?""The kid who… who murdered his parents?""That monster from the headlines?!"
Hikaru's heart slammed painfully against his ribs. His quirk flared, shadows rising around him.
He took a step back. "S–Stay away. I don't want to hurt anybody."
Most of them didn't believe him. He could see it in their eyes—fear, disgust, mistrust.
His quirk hissed viciously in his head:
"They hate you.""They fear you.""Let us show them why—"
"SHUT UP!" Hikaru snapped, clutching his head.
The students recoiled. Some raised their guard. Some had already started shaking.
A boy near Momo whispered, "He's not stable…"
Another muttered, "Look at his shadow—something's wrong with it…"
And they were right.
The shadows writhed around Hikaru like living oil, reacting to every emotion he tried—and failed—to suppress.
Then the temperature seemed to drop.
The dome darkened.
THUMP.
A massive shadow loomed behind Hikaru.
The Nomu stepped into view.
The artificial monster's massive hand swung downward like a hammer aimed at Hikaru's skull—
—but the shadows moved first.
They shot up, coiling around the Nomu's wrist, stopping the blow cold. Another tendril wrapped around its ankle. Then another. And another. Hikaru gasped as the force of the monstrous strength strained through the shadows and into his body.
"N-No… don't… DON'T—!" he begged.
But the quirk didn't care.
Four enormous shadow arms exploded from Hikaru's back.
They grabbed the Nomu's limbs—each one squeezing with enough force to crack stone—and hoisted the monster into the air like a grotesque trophy.
Shigaraki's eyes widened.
"What… what the hell is THAT?"
The shadows tightened.
CRACK.
One limb tore free in a spray of violet blood.
The students screamed.
CRACK.Another limb ripped off.
The Nomu shrieked in agony.
CRACK.
The final arm tore loose, leaving the Nomu limbless and twitching.
And then the pieces hit the floor.
Silence.
Hikaru stood there, pale chest heaving, shadows dripping off him like tar. He turned toward the students.
They stared at him with absolute horror.
"So… brutal…""He ripped it apart like nothing…""That wasn't human…""He—he's worse than the villains—!"
Hikaru tried to speak.
"I… didn't mean— I didn't want—"
But he didn't see it.
Nomu was regenerating behind him.
Shigaraki's lips curled into a twitchy smile.
"Yes… yes… GOOD… get up… rip him apart…"
Nomu burst forward, fully regenerated, faster than before.
Hikaru's shadows reacted too late.
The monster's punch tore through his side.
The world spun—And Hikaru was flung across the battlefield like a ragdoll.
He smashed into a concrete wall with a sound that made several students gag. Dust exploded around him. When it settled—
They saw him.
Impaled through the abdomen on a rusted metal pipe.
His arm dangled at a sickening angle, broken so badly the bone had pierced through the skin. His leg was twisted, bone exposed.
He wasn't moving.
He looked dead.
A few students screamed. One vomited. Another fainted. Others clung to each other, shaking.
Shigaraki stared at Hikaru's corpse-like form with fascination. "Ohhhh~ broken… broken broken broken… That's what you get for RUINING MY FUN!"
But something was wrong.
Shadows were gathering.
Two figures stepped out of the swirling black—tall, thin silhouettes shaped like a man and a woman. Featureless. Faceless. Their forms flickered like mist, yet their presence was suffocating.
The students didn't understand.
But Hikaru did.
His eyes opened a fraction, blood leaking from the corner of his mouth.
He knew those shapes.
He knew those voices.
Father.Mother.
The ones who whispered night and day.The ones who pulled his strings.The ones who dragged him here.
They stood over his dying body like amused demons.
"W… why…" Hikaru choked, blood bubbling from his lips. "Why…?"
No answer.
He tried again, voice barely audible, "Why me?"
The silhouettes leaned closer, and even without faces Hikaru felt them grinning. Stretching. Smiling. Enjoying every heartbeat of his suffering.
The students watched in frozen terror.
"W-What is he talking to…?""Who ARE those shadows?""Why do they look like… like people?""What IS this kid?!"
Hikaru's voice tore through the room, raw and agonized:
"WHAT HAVE I DONE!?"
Nomu growled behind him, stepping closer, ready to finish the job.
The shadow silhouettes straightened.
Turned toward the Nomu.
Looked back down at Hikaru.
And made their decision.
They would not let him die.
Not yet.
Not when there was so much more suffering to carve into him.
Their bodies dissolved into mist—Mist that poured into Hikaru's broken body like ink into water.
And then—
His body twitched.
His fingers curled.
His eyes widened with horror.
He was moving.
Against his will.
His body began to rise—slowly, painfully—while the pipe inside him scraped against bone and organ.
He screamed.
Students screamed.
Blood dripped.
And the shadows began consuming him—
Right before the transformation completed, Hikaru looked at the terrified students and whispered:
"…I'm sorry."