mha musicals

Les Miserables - Izuku Midoriya

Izuku rushed through the dimly lit streets of Paris feeling a gentle breeze blowing through his green locks. The year was 1832 and the treatment of the poor and downtrodden in central Paris sparked a revolution in the hearts of many courageous young men. Izuku Midoriya was the grandson of a wealthy merchant who found refuge from his family's hierarchy in the arms of the revolution. Izuku participated in rallies staged by his fellow men and spoke passionately about the poverty of a young girl and her travel weary family.

The stench of alcohol and planning voices enveloped Izuku as he walked through the doors of the central meeting place. As he made his way towards the staircase, he received claps on the back and congratulatory words from his comrades. Izuku thanked his friends profusely, a light blush dusting his cheeks. The men smiled and let him pass up the stairs. Izuku reached the platform at the top of the staircase and shook his head in familiarity at the sights surrounding him. Men were drinking and laughing like there was no tomorrow and Shoto looked upon them with a cool gaze. Izuku walked over to an empty chair and reached for an unfinished goblet of burgundy colored wine. As he sipped the warm liquid, a vivid memory replayed in his head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Izuku smiles and waves out at the crowd fanned around the raised platform. Rallying cheers of excitement and anarchy spill from the mouths of the protesters as he exits the dias. Uraraka congratulates him on his speech as they walk the streets of Paris.

Izuku looks down bashfully and smiles, "It really wasn't anything special," he says flustered flailing his arms about him. Uraraka giggles at Izuku's flushed continence and trails after him as he walks faster down the alleyway.

When the sun shines harshly on Izuku's face, he raises a hand to block the bright light. However, his hand wavers when his gaze lands on the most beautiful mademoiselle he's ever seen. Uraraka catches up to him and pulls at his arm. Izuku looks down at her in awe and then looks towards the girl again. Uraraka follows his gaze and her grip falters on his arm as a burning jealousy flows through her veins.

Izuku continues to watch the young woman as he pushes his way through the crowd. The young lady looks around and notices Izuku's admiring gaze. Izuku stops in his tracks when the lovely mademoiselle flashes him a graceful smile. A blush starts to form under his freckles and spread like plague to his ears. The scrawny looking man accompanying her ushers her forward and she looks away for a split second. Izuku watches the man brandish smiles all around him and strong sense of longing pulls at his heart. The young lady on his arm looks towards him again and they watch each other with flushed cheeks and shy smiles.

Eventually, Izuku loses sight of the woman and turns toward Uraraka who is nowhere in sight. He looks around for any sign of his friend, but notices none.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    A warm hand clapped Izuku on the shoulder and startled him out of his musing.    

"Izuku," Denki loudly slurred stumbling to a nearby chair, "Why do you look so glum chum?" Izuku looked to his friend and smiled lightly. He looked down at the table and sipped at the goblet of wine in his shaking hand.

"I wouldn't call it glum, per say," Izuku replied taking another sip of his drink. Denki looked at Izuku confused until Ejirou but into the conversation.

"Denki, you utter fool," Ejirou shouted smacking his friend on the back of the head, "Izu has the face of a man in love." Izuku jerked his head up quickly at the mention of such feelings and blushed profusely. Ejirou smirked at Izuku's reaction and Denki's mouth formed a soft O shape. "Well," his red haired  friend started, "don't leave us in the dark, Izu, tell us what she's like."   

Izuku started to recall every fine detail of your beautiful countenance. Your fair (h/c) locks left him speechless. The hand outstretched to the poor people of Paris made his heart clench. Your (e/c) hues that bore into his own left him weak in the knees. Izuku recalled every ounce of your (skin color) skin and eteched you into the minds of his comrades as a goddess. Kirshima watched Izuku's growing fever with his ruby gaze and stood up smiling.

"Comrades," His voice rang out high above the clamour of the gathered rebels, "Izuku speaks of love and proserious seasons to come! It is as if the war has been won already!" A hearty cheer resounds around the room and glasses of wine are raised in toast.

"Ejirou," Izuku stutters with a hand covering his pink face, "stop it!" The red head sits back down in the chair next to Denki and chuckles. Izuku takes another sip of wine and looks to his left. Shouto looms above his three friends with a scolding frown. Ejirou's face falls and Denki looks to Izuku.

Shouto's hand pulls out a chair from the table and places his foot on the seat. With one arm poised on his knee his sonorous voice speaks in a chiding tone, "It is time for us children to grow up and become men. This revolution has been centuries in the making and do you wish to waste it on some passing fancy? Is this simply a game to you, my friends? The colors of man are changing day by day."

Shouto stands atop the chair and thunders over the hum of drunken voices, "Red, the blood of angry men! Black, the dark of ages past! Red, a world about to dawn! Black, the night that ends at last!"

Shouto hops down from the chair and lets out an exasperated sigh. "I hope you understand, dearest Izuku, that we can not wish to spend our time in the arms of a nameless woman." He brushes a hand through his dual toned locks and starts toward the planning table. Izuku pushes himself off of his chair and grabs Shouto's arm.

"She's not just any woman, Shou," Izuku says anger laced through his voice, "had you seen her today you might know how it feels. To be struck to the bone in a moment of breathless delight. Had you seen her today you might also have known how the world may be changed in just one burst of light. And what was right was wrong and what was wrong seemed right!"

Ejirou's voice called to Izuku from across the table, "Red!"

"I feel my soul on fire!" Izuku responded tightening his grip on Shouto's arm.

Denki joined Ejirou in the chant and they called again to their friend, "Black!"

"My world if she's not there!"

A chorus of men joined in on the shouting, "Red!"

"The color of desire!"

"Black!"

    "The color of despair!"

    Izuku's turquoise gaze bore into his friends heterochromatic stare and Shouto pried Izuku's fingers from his arm. A sigh escaped Shouto's lips again when he looked on his dearest friend's bitter expression. "Izuku, I am sorry to have offended you but my position still stands. Love is not a game you can afford to play. Our goal is bigger then everyone  in this room combined and each and every one of us is willing to give our lives to the revolution." Shouto turned away from his friend and fanned his arms in an appealing gesture. "Red!"

  A rally of bolsterious voices echoed through the small chamber, "The blood of angry men!"

"Black!"

"The dark of ages past!" Izuku looked toward Denki and Eijirou and noticed that there gazes were fixated on Shouto.

"Red!"

He continued to watch his friends rally with the revolutions inspiring leader, "A world about to dawn!"

"Black!" Shouto shouted as Izuku swallowed down the last of his wine.

"The night that ends at last!" Izuku calls raising his empty goblet into the air.

~image belongs to it's respective owner~