Hikaru Amano's life had been nothing but fear. Fear of his parents' fists, their screaming, their constant hatred. Fear of stepping wrong, of being punished for breathing. Fear had been his only companion. And yet, he had dreamed of being a hero, of being someone who could shine beyond the shadows of his childhood.
But the night his quirk awakened, even that dream was shattered
His parents were screaming at him again, at first. The slaps, the kicks, the curses raining down on him like knives. His chest tightened, his heart hammering, and for the first time, something inside him snapped
The shadows in the room thickened. The air itself seemed to pulse. His parents froze, their expressions twisting as their shadows clawed to the surface. And then the darkness moved
It was like the room had grown teeth. Shapes of twisted terror erupted from every corner: shadowy versions of their own guilt, their own fears, their own violent reflections. They screamed as phantoms clawed at them, trapped in the living nightmare that Hikaru had unconsciously created
He tried to stop it. He screamed, he cried, he begged the shapes to leave. But it was too late. His parents' screams echoed in his mind as their bodies crumpled to the floor, torn and twisted beyond recognition, drenched in blood, their faces lost to the very horrors they had spent years inflicting on him.
The room was silent, except for the sound of his own ragged breathing. Shadows clung to the walls like living things, remnants of the nightmare he had unleashed. His hands shook uncontrollably, coated in blood that wasn't entirely his own. He stumbled backward, unable to believe what he had done.
I… I killed them… The thought echoed in his head, chilling and relentless. He hadn't wanted this. He hadn't wanted to hurt anyone—he had only wanted to survive. Yet now, there was no undoing it. His quirk had awakened, violent and uncontrollable, and with it came the horrifying realization: he could never go back to the life he had known.
He looked at the shattered remains of his parents, and something inside him snapped further. His dream of becoming a hero, of being like the others, felt impossibly far away. The world outside would never understand, and he feared their judgment more than anything. He couldn't stay. He couldn't be safe here
With tears streaming down his face, Hikaru Amano fled into the night. He carried with him the weight of blood, fear, and a quirk that had chosen him—not as a hero, but as a weapon. The city's streets swallowed him, shadows wrapping around his form like a cloak. He didn't know where he would go, or what he would become. All he knew was that from this night onward, he could trust no one not the world, not himself and survival would demand that he embrace the darkness within.
The boy who had once dreamed of shining in the light was gone. In his place stood something else, a young man forged in fear, guilt, and blood, with a power that could make nightmares real. A power that might very well turn him into a villain the world would never forget.