The Hero From Beyond (MHA x OC Fanfic)

A Change in Perspective: Riyaki Sicuto

Author's Note: Above is a picture of Sicuto (left) and WaterDragon02's character, Lax (right). Before you're wondering who this is and everything. And now, it's time to learn more about the holder of Ignorance. This chapter will still include some canon story but through the eyes of another person, so think of this one as Chapter 24.5. Enjoy!

I'm sure you know the most popular question asked to kids dreaming of becoming heroes. "Why do you want to become a pro?" There are many responses, like great fortune, noble compassion, or maybe just an inspired future. My answer: I owe it to Death Arms. You might be asking how so, but you gotta swear not to laugh.

Alright, listen up. Believe it or not, I started off as a young dreamer back in my kindergarten years. I was an okay kid, but I wasn't always treated fair. Every school day morning, a classmate would walk in and show off their new quirk that had just manifested. All the excitement of other kids and the encouragement of the teachers only drove me to fantasize what my quirk would be once I got it. Not only was I itching to at least know, but the class started to segregate themselves, categorizing each other into those with their quirks and those without. This lead to me being left alone with four or five other kids who had yet to get their quirks. Just to fake pride in our division, we called our group "Team Quirkless."

Soon however, the number began to diminish, until the only other person with me in this group was an All Might fanboy. We got along okay, however this kid usually wanted to hang out with some egomaniac kid and his pals. It was odd though; it really seemed like the jerks picked on him to no end. He had a curious taste in friends. Not that I minded really; he was a sheer go getter, determined that his quirk would be just as incredible as everyone else's.

Months went by, and he and I were still the only ones without quirks. Every day at morning time, we would sit together, asking if there was any luck with each other's signs. Every day though contained the same frustrating result: nothing out of the ordinary happened with either of us. Finally fed up with the same answer, we both went to our moms and begged them to tell us whether or not it was possible to know if we had a quirk right away. They both gave in and told us that a gene test could be taken to determine just the answer we've been looking for.

And so, the day of our appointments were marked and soon came. He and I were excited to finally know the truth of whether if we were to have quirks. I was welcomed in first and let them draw blood. It stung like crazy, but it was all worth it. Thanks to some quick research and comparison, I was determined to have manifested my quirk, Ignorance. It was so cool! I was already dreaming of what sort of bad guys I could beat with it! When I came out of the room, I told my friend the awesome news, and he congratulated me over and over, calling me lucky and everything. Then it was his turn. I waited expectantly until his mom lead him out, him dazed and petrified. She excused themselves from us, and I was confused as to what had happened. I soon learned that my classmate was truly quirkless. He was heart broken and didn't even speak to me for an entire week.

I had mixed feelings: glad that I had finally manifested my quirk, determined to do awesome things with it, but sad that the dreams of my closest friend, who was wrongfully outcasted with me, were crushed. I didn't want to leave him behind, but finally, when he did start talking again, he wished me the best of luck with my dream, and went back into shock, practically letting the other kids taunt him for his misfortune. I tried to step up for him, telling them that as someone with a quirk, they should back off. But as far as they were concerned, I was still in the same boat as him: a powerless loser. No matter what I said, I couldn't prove that my quirk existed. Ignorance at that time was far too weak to activate while I was still even conscious.

"Liar." "Fraud." "Quirkless." All of these names were ones that I took in class. It convinced me to learn everything there was about my quirk. I knew that I had to at least hurt myself, so I got to it. I was doing everything I could think of to activate it: banging my head against the wall, jumping off playground equipment, and dropping heavy objects on my feet. Soon, I even started picking fights with my other classmates, ones who had the audacity to taunt me or call me a name.