GRAVE ROBBER [My Hero Academia x Male!OC]

Prologue

"Does anyone want to pair up with Iki?"

A few of the kids in the class giggled, others shaking their heads with a look of disgust.

Mukuro Iki was stood at the front of class, head hung in embarrassment. He hadn't shown any signs of a quirk yet, and at age eight he was really starting to feel its consequences on his social life. Heck, his life at home wasn't really any better.

He was constantly made fun of, and used as a punching bag for his classmates to practice their quirks on due to the fact that he couldn't fight back.

They had been told to get into pairs for a group project, and with an odd number of people in the class, it was inevitable that Mukuro would be the one without a partner.

The silence was then interrupted by the school bell going off, signalling the end of class.

"And remember, the project is due in on Tuesday next week!" The teacher was ignored by the class as everyone went to grab their bags and go home for the weekend.

" I'll just do it by myself, " Mukuro told the teacher, with full knowledge that he wouldn't do it. He went to his desk and picked up his bed before walking out of the classroom behind the others, leaving the old-fashioned school building and into to the nearby forest.

He continued walking for a while, before hearing the sound of a twig snapping on the floor behind him. He stopped and turned around, seeing one of his classmates following him.

The boy following Mukuro was called Watanabe; the boy had been bullying him since the start of the year, using his quirk -- creating clouds of microscopic, razor-sharp discs from the skin on the back of his hands -- to tear apart his skin.

He ran, assuming Watanabe was going to do the same this time. Instead of using his quirk immediately, his bully took a knife from his pocket, running towards him and chasing him further into the woods.

Mukuro kept running, his breath becoming heavy and his heart beating quickly. He felt his right foot catch on something on the ground, and before he could process the mistake he had made, he fell forwards into the soil.

He struggled to get up as his bully caught up with him. God knows what he was about to do to him. Judging by the distance between Mukuro and his knife-wielding classmate, he was probably about to find out.

Watanabe stabbed him in his hand, the knife going through his flesh and pinning him to the ground. At first, Mukuro didn't feel anything due to the shock, but was he went to pull out the knife, searing pain ran through the inside of his hand and down to his fingers.

As Mukuro lay on the ground, desperately trying to pull his hand free, Watanabe jumped onto his other arm. It broke with a sickening crack, causing Mukuro to scream in pain, tears flowing steadily down his cheeks. Watanabe continued to stomp on his arm until it was just a bloody mess of shattered bones and torn flesh which mixed with the dirt from the floor.

Once Watanabe had had enough, he simply walked away and left him to bleed out. Mukuro didn't have the energy nor willpower to get up, and so he lay on the ground for a few minutes. The shoulder where his arm once was had become numb; he turned his head to examine it, seeing his arm completely ripped from its socket and made into an unrecognizable piece of meat wrapped in the sleeve of his school blazer and laying in a pool of blood. His shoulder was also bleeding heavily.

He finally managed to pull his hand off of the floor, still impaled on Watanabe's knife. He brought his hand up to his mouth, pulling it out by the handle using his teeth; more blood begun to pour from the wound. He out the knife in his pocket and pushed himself up whilst trying not to let the palm of his hand touch the ground again in fear of causing more pain. Once he was on his feet, he headed back the way he came since his home was a few more miles ahead and the school was only a 15-minute walk away.

After a few minuites of walking, he came across Watanabe sat on a fallen tree laughing with his friends as if nothing had ever happened. Mukuro continued to walk past them but Watanabe noticed him, and pointed the injured boy out to his friends.

"Ew..." he said loudly, "What happened to you, Iki?"

At that moment, something inside him snapped. He couldn't put up with this for any longer. With people who acted like he was weaker than them, and took advantage of that, or treated him like dirt. He would have to act quickly; judging by the amount of blood pouring from where his arm would be he didn't have much time left.

"You know what happened to me," he half hissed, half choked out the words "And I'm not going to let you get away with it either."

He lunged towards one of Watanabe's friends, knife in hand, and stabbed him in the neck, killing him before he could fight back by using his quirk, which Mukuro vaguely remembered was something to do with his long, sharp fingernails.

Watanabe's other friend attacked him, as Mukuro had anticipated, and used his quirk to move the soil beneath him, causing him to call over. Mukuro then begun to feel cold, almost numb, as if the life force had been drained from him. Was this his end -- to be attacked by the bully who he let push him around and then to die due of blood loss a few minutes later? Strangely, he did not collapse, simply going slightly numb and stiff.

Mukuro then felt a sensation similar to pins and needles at his empty arm socket. Then the pain returned a thousand times worse than before, and spread downwards in the air to there his arm would be. Hang on. His arm.

He looked down towards where his arm would be, instantly regretting it after seeing the bones of his arm with flesh slowly building up in a few areas.

Was this his quirk? It couldn't be. This was worse than being quirkless. His own ability -- the one that would determine most, if not all aspects of his life -- was disgusting. It horrified him.

He looked back at his classmates. The corpse of the one that he killed was missing an arm: the same one he had lost earlier.

His new arm was pale, slightly decomposed, spattered with blood and bruised in a few places. There was also a messy line of stitching where it joined to his shoulder and a few lines of stitching that seemed to be holding the arm together.

He couldn't go back now. Not after what he had done, and what was done to him.

Even if he was sorry, nobody would forgive him. The kid he killed was top of the class, praised for both his quirk and his grades, and was told by many that he would be a great hero when he grew up; in a way, he was everything Mukuro wasn't.

*

Watanabe and his other friend had long since ran from the scene, leaving Mukuro and the corpse of his other friend. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he dragged the mangled, bloody corpse into a small ditch, covering it with leaves and branches in a futile attempt at hiding it.

And after that Mukuro ran.