Not My Nature (BNHA X Tokyo Ghoul)

Chapter 1: I never liked the taste of blood until I realised how hungry I was

As an aspiring hero, Midoriya had pretty much accepted that he might die before he had a chance to grow old. Though to say the truth, he hadn't given it much food for thought.
But there are ways of dying without ever being truly dead.
And that is a fate worse than any other.

Seven days. Seven days Izuku had endured in his cell. Inscribing each day with a notch into the cold stone wall was the only thing preventing him from becoming truly insane.
It was freezing cold, damp, and plagued with ants. The only light came from a miniscule window far above him. The only thing that reminded him that he was somewhat alive, and still attached to this Earth.

He didn't know what was happening to him. Why he seemed so much more comfortable in the dark. Why human flesh all of a sudden seemed so appetising.
Why he couldn't, couldn't die, no matter how much torture he was forced to endure.

It was as if he was slowly being turned to stone. Soon, he would be nothing but a heartless statue of what he once was. Under his breath he would say their names. All of them. Like a spell. Like a prayer to whatever god would listen.

All those he left behind. Those who he saved, those who he cared about, and who cared about him too.
And of course, those he looked up to.

All Might. All Might. I am here. Please. I need your help.

Izuku's stomach dropped, as the key turned in the lock. Bile rose in his throat.

There was just enough light to make out the tall, spiky-haired silhouette standing in the doorway.
His low, husky voice sounded through the darkness.
"C'mon. Just another day. Better to get it over with, my dude."

Dabi's scarred face was clearer to see now, as Midoriya was dragged down the dimly-lit corridor. His wrists were red raw from the handuffs behind his back. Though his regenerative healing prevented his hands from falling off altogether.

Dabi may have been handsome once. But parts of his face were heavily scarred. It appeared to be burnt several times over, the skin a frightening purple. What was most horrifying was the staples that lined the scars, from across his face, aligned with his mouth, down his neck, and also his arms.
He had hair as black as pitch, and always wore a long black coat with silver embellishments.
He didn't know what it was, the scars, the lines of his angular face, or his arcane personality, but Dabi somehow reminded Izuku of Todoroki.

Izuku had descended a spiralling flight of stairs, and had entered the torture chamber.
Shigaraki was waiting for him, as per usual.

A spotlight illuminated the centre of the room, where a lone chair stood. Tables lined the room, exposing infernal mechanisms and devices of torture.
A large rose window on one wall threatened to draw him in like a void. It's pattern like that of a procession of snails, unravelling for infinity.  He could not see anything through it, and yet it seemed to gaze back at him.
The walls and floor were stained with black. Dried blood from those who had gone before him.

Midoriya had read once, that at the time when religion reigned over many parts of the world, it was written that hell was cold.
Midoriya wasn't a believer, but he could see where they were coming from.

He was pushed into the chair, and his ankles and waist were tied up. The spotlight blinded him from seeing the rest of the room.
Shigaraki's light blue, shaggy hair hung loose around his face. He was a deranged criminal who took pleasure in putting Midoriya through trial after trial.
Dabi, on the other hand, felt some sense of pity for Izuku.

Dabi placed a helmet on Midoriya's head. It was a device that scanned Izuku's brain. The information was then assessed. Something about Midoriya's brain was special, as he was told over and over again. He was their special boy. A one-eyed ghoul. One eye appeared normal. The other, the black and red mark of a ghoul.
Even among ghouls, Midoriya would never fit in.