Magnus: Here is something I've been cooking for some time, and that I wanted to publish; updates may come slowly, but I hope that no more accidents happen to keep me away from writing. I have to warn you though, this may be a little too gruesome for some.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, everything here belongs to their respective creators, including any possible references that you may, or may not be able to catch.
Edit: This chapter has been Beta read and improved by The 0bservanc3, thank you so much for your help.
A sinister origin.
Izuku Midoriya was a four year old who already knew what he wanted to be when he grew up, what to aim for in his life; he wanted to be a hero, someone who could save anyone in need with a smile on his face. This was why he couldn't wait for these tests to finish, for the doctor to finally come and announce what his amazing quirk was.
Inko Midoriya watched her bouncing baby boy with a warm smile on her face, knowing better than to even attempt to bring his excitement down with reality. She knew that with her quirk being so weak, and her husband's being only mildly useful, Izuku's chances at developing anything powerful were rather low. But as they say, hope is the last to die.
"Well, the results are ready," the elderly doctor, clad in round glasses and a protruding belly, announced as he entered the room, gaining the attention of the duo.
"Is it something amazing?" Izuku asked quickly, "I hope it's something amazing!" The smile stretched across his little face showed no sign of fading, even in the face of the doctor's rather serious gaze.
Inko watched with growing dread as the doctor rubbed the bridge of his nose before dropping heavily into a chair, surely a clear sign of the man working to find the words to describe a terrible prognosis. The mother worried at what those words could possibly be. The horrible word—QUIRKLESS—flashed before her mind's eye.
"Well… it's unusual, but nothing too amazing. We've discovered that your blood produces and houses special microorganisms. These microorganisms appear to retain the basic genetic information of their host, you, and whenever an anomaly of any kind is detected, say for instance structural damage such as broken tissue or bones or internal irregularities like bacterial or viral infections, they immediately go about repairing or erasing that anomaly." The doctor explained all of this while flipping through the papers he'd carried in with him. Peering over the edge of his papers, and glasses, he noticed the confused stares of the mother and son before him.
"In layman's terms, you appear to have a rarely seen type of regeneration Quirk. But it doesn't seem to be extreme in any way."
Inko, taking in the information she could understand, suddenly snapped her fingers.
"Well! That explains why he's never been sick…" the mother announced, reminiscing on how healthy her son had been up to now, not even suffering a single bout of colic as a newborn.
"But… it's good, right? I can be a hero that…" Izuku began to speak, his voice denoting both obvious disappointment at not getting to be as strong as his idol, and resolute strength in embracing the idea of becoming a less extreme hero. The doctor's cold glare silenced him.
"You'd better give up on that dream, kid. You may be able to heal ten times faster than the average person, but this isn't a Quirk that's going to stop a bullet or make you stronger. You'd be better at something like hospital work, or handling biological material in experiments." The doctor's words were delivered flatly, without regard to the boy's feelings, as if he wanted to crush his dreams.
"Doctor… isn't that a little extreme? I mean… maybe these micro-thingies are capable of more, or will be as he grows up?" Inko threw out her thoughts on the matter, trying to cheer up her son. Her words earned a small smile from the now teary-eyed little boy.
"I know what you're trying to do, but please, this isn't an emitter Quirk," The doctor said, turning to the woman. "Your son's Quirk acts like a mutant type. And in most cases with mutants, we know improving is next to impossible. It doesn't help that these microorganisms die, without fail, less than thirty minutes after leaving their host's body. Chances for development, let alone research seems to be impossible."
Standing, the doctor handed over some paperwork for Inko to complete. Izuku began to feel like a failure… all of his dreams of saving people with a smile were quickly going up in smoke, leaving his future unclear, uncertain.
Later that night…
Inko woke from her fitful slumber to a sudden noise, one that she'd heard many times before. The sound of that particular video that her son loved to watch tickled at the edges of her hearing. Still half asleep, the mother reached the door to her son's room, dreading having to take a look inside, dreading what she feared she'd find…
"Izuku?" Inko called as she slowly pushed the door open. Framed by a single glowing computer screen in a room full of darkness sat her son. Slowly, he turned to her, his face full of fearful tears.
"M-Mom… can I be a hero? Like All Might?" Izuku asked with a trembling voice, trying to grasp at anything that resembled hope. Hope for his dream. Inko quickly grabbed him up in a hug, trying to pour every last drop of love she had into him. She hugged him through all of her own tears, feelings of hopelessness, and the heart-shattering realization that she had failed her son.
"Yes… ye—of course you can! E-Even if not like All Might… you can be a hero," Inko replied with what little strength she could muster. The acrid taste of lying to her son sat heavily on her tongue.
Ten years later…
"This is pointless…" Izuku muttered as he sat on the doorstep of an abandoned cabin in the middle of the woods.
Izuku had been left there during the school's camping trip, an annual tradition, as a test of valor—part of the trip itself. But over the years he'd become used to taking the role of punching bag of his fellow classmates. And that applied doubly so for his once best friend, Katsuki Bakugo. Once the blond's Quirk of secreting self-detonating nitroglycerin-like sweat had became public, and was compared against his own, Bakugo had made it his personal mission to make his life hell.
"A total waste of time…" Izuku continued his muttering, taking the time to indulge in his depressing pastime… reminiscing on his life.
He almost wished he'd been born Quirkless sometimes. Maybe then he'd at least have been shown some pity… or stopped clinging so tightly to the dream of being a hero… or at the very least Bakugo would've been less aggressive in his bullying. He still remembered when, at seven years old, he'd attempted to help his longtime friend after he'd fallen in a shallow river and in thanks had been pushed away headfirst onto an outcropping of sharp rocks nearby. The severe wounds had closed and healed in under a minute before everyone's eyes, revealing a yet undiscovered attribute of his Quirk. On that day, Bakugo had found the perfect punching bag, one too hard to kill, but too useless for anyone to care about.
"Completely useless he'd said… pft…" Izuku almost spat in self pity. Instead, he decided to summon a happier memory, one where he'd felt useful, almost like a hero…
He'd been twelve when he'd faced his first instance of real, life and death violence meant to kill. He'd been hiding from his habitual tormentor during a late evening walk home when he'd heard it. The Scream. A girl's scream. Before he'd even had time to think, he'd darted into the nearby dark alley and tackled the first body he encountered. The man had turned out to be twice his size in height and weight, his charge only successful in throwing the thug off balance due to its suddenness. The girl had taken the chance to run, never looking back.
For his trouble, he'd been stabbed seven times. The wounds were gone before he picked himself up off the ground, not that it'd helped calm his frantic mother.
"It doesn't matter if anyone knows," Izuku said to himself with a tiny smile, "As long as that girl ended up okay." Around him, he noticed the sun was setting and the cold was beginning to creep in. Any camper caught unaware would surely end up with frostbite… not that Izuku, the 'Regenerator' had anything to worry about.
Regenerator, the name he'd given his Quirk. The moniker defined the fact that he'd heal back from any wound or sickness at abnormal speed. He just wished he'd been able to test it against something worse than the average cold or the cuts and scrapes of bullying. Unfortunately, being labeled as a mutant-type had led to none being willing to test his limits, or go beyond them. And don't even get him started on his mother.
If they had, maybe he'd know why the little friends in his blood died soon after leaving his body. Or maybe he'd know why his healing factor so greatly exceeded the doctor's original projections. His stabbing had shown him that his wounds closed almost instantly, with little bleeding. But here he was… largely in the dark about himself.
"I wish… I wish you guys could do more outside my body. Maybe then I could be a healing hero, like Recovery Girl," Izuku said toward his arm, a habit formed from too many lonely school days. Others had laughed and picked on him even more for it, but it was something he'd never stopped doing… probably because he could feel his very veins tickle every time he talked to them. It was almost like they'd talk back.
In the distance, the waning moon ascended, bringing its pitiful light to shroud the world in an ominous luminescence. Having long since become accustomed to surviving on his own in situations such as this, Izuku quickly made a campfire with ease. Really, he only bothered with it to keep the wildlife away; it wasn't like he'd freeze to death. His blood never allowed his internal temperature to drop at all, a fortunate side effect that unfortunately didn't cross over too well into heat resistance.
He just wished he wouldn't have to suffer the intense hunger pangs whenever he'd have to heal up too much.
"I bet everyone is having a good time with their marshmallows and hot cocoa…" Izuku descended into his dark mutterings once again, remembering that he was the only one repeatedly tested with spending nights alone in the woods. The other kids just had to walk along a small path in the middle of the night, one very close to the main camp, and got to keep their electricity and other commodities.
"Whatever… it's not like I really wanted to spend time with them… Happy birthday… to me," Izuku finished his muttering with a somber expression on his face. He couldn't refrain from thinking on how this night was similar to so many others… spent all alone.
"I wish I'd thought to bring my notebooks," Izuku groused. At least then his unhappiness would've just been nominal, but without his working material he felt him moroseness only increase. He loved thinking on ways to make use of his Quirk to be a hero… even though it'd been incredibly difficult to come up with any ideas beyond serving as a meat shield.
The night continued its course, unconcerned about the young boy and his depression, unconcerned about the hell about to break loose.
Suddenly, the soft roar of a distant truck engine filtered through the regular nightscape white noise. Accelerating at an uneven pace, as if either chasing or fleeing something, the roaring sharply rose in volume. Izuku's mind was quick to formulate two theories on this abrupt development. Either it was a case of villains attempting to escape local authorities and something he was better off staying away from, or worse, an innocent was on the run from villains. It was the second possibility that had him moving toward the largely unused road ahead. What if, by chance, someone really was in danger? What if he could help that person?
"HELP!" A sudden, terrified scream had Izuku running forward without thinking; that it had been the voice of a girl, one that seemed to be in pain and scared, was undeniable.
"OVER HERE!" Izuku shouted into the night, hoping to guide the girl to safety. Soon, the shaking and shuffling of foliage announced the arrival of the owner of the voice.
"Oh God…" Izuku whispered as he saw a form step from the shadows. The small lantern he'd hidden away from the other students, with the help of the meager moonlight, managed to illuminate the girl. He could easily make out tattered rags and a terrified facial expression.
Then the truck burst onto the scene, along with the glint of the gun being wielded by the driver.
"WATCH OUT!" Izuku shouted as he tackled the girl to the side, just as the gun was fired. Searing pain exploded along his back as five bullets struck him, causing him to roll multiple times before coming to a stop. Now lying on his side, Izuku could do nothing but look at the girl as she stared back at him with sorrowful eyes, her mouth filling with blood as her lips traced the words of a muted apology. He never heard the truck as it stopped, nor the figure of the driver as it stood over him. He did hear the first of two gunshots however.
"Kids these days… always wanting to play hero without considering the consequences," the figure said, voice high enough to register as feminine. A practiced motion followed, and the gun was effortlessly reloaded.
"Just remember, this is all your fault. He died because you ran away from the job I so kindly gave you. You wanted out? Well, here's your out," The figure stared the bleeding girl in the eye, unblinking, and emptied the entire new clip into her. As the last echoes of the execution faded, the night fell into uneasy silence, broken only by the fading roar of the retreating truck.
Izuku waited until he could no longer hear anything save for the tentative cries of the higurashi to move, quickly sitting up. Tensing his aching back, he let out gasping breathes as his body spit out the numerous bullets that had burrowed into him. Standing, he rushed to the girl, unconcerned with whether or not his wounds had closed properly. His only objective was the girl; there had to be something he could do to save her.
"Come on! Don't die! Please don't die! You're too pretty to die!" Izuku nearly shouted at the girl as he wrapped his arms under hers and dragged her into the abandoned cabin. Once he reached the wooden structure, he noticed that miraculously his phone was not only intact, but mostly charged and retaining good reception.
"Please, stay with me—just a little longer. Please!" Izuku pressed his left hand against the girl's wounds, a seemingly futile attempt to prevent her death, while he used his right to dial the police's emergency number. The concept of travel time and terrain restrictions never crossed his panicked mind.
"Hello?" The quick response of the operator gave the green-haired boy hope, his belief in the girl's survival bolstered.
"P-Please s-s-send help, sh-she's b-bleed…" Izuku, his fear eating him from the inside out, was unable to control his stammering.
"This line is for real emergencies kid, not childish nightmares," the operator tiredly grumbled, "Why don't you just go back to sleep?" There was a clicking sound, and the line was cut.
He'd been ignored.
"No… No, no, no, nononono—!" Izuku began to slip further into his panic, dialing the next number he could think of for more immediate help.
"Heeeyyy… Midoriya-chan… do you really want to lose the *hic!* challenge?"
Izuku hung up as soon as he realized the slurred voice that had answered was that of his teacher. Out of options, he thought of the only person who'd never say no to the idea of helping him…
"Mom? Please… help…" Izuku whispered through the phone as soon as his call had been picked up. All thoughts of being bullied for 'running to Mommy' had long since been thrown out, replaced by the single-minded desire to save the life of the girl dying in front of him.
Suddenly, the girl began to heave, her skin ghostly pale and chilled. Izuku knew these symptoms from health class; the girl was going into shock. He also knew that if she wasn't stabilized soon, death was assured. Acting instinctively, he dropped his phone and searched the cabin for anything that would help. Besides a useless cot, there was only… a pocket knife.
Izuku looked at the girl… the knife… the girl… his wrist…
"If there's even the smallest chance you guys can help… this is it," Izuku said with apprehension. Quickly, before the tickles could begin, he raised the knife to his skin and cut his wrist.
"Come on! Please! Heal her!" Izuku begged through freely falling tears. Fighting through the stinging pain shooting up from his wrist, he directed the gushing appendage to spill its treasure over any open wounds he could see. After a minute, and a generous dosage of blood, he moved his hemorrhaging wrist to the girl's mouth. To his surprise, the lips turned away, the girl gritting her teeth to speak through her tremors.
"Don't… do… th-that. I'm… filthy…" Her final breath taken, the girl collapsed, a puppet with its strings cut. Izuku's panic reached maximum and, mindlessly, he jumped into giving the girl CPR. Twenty minutes passed before the raving screams from his mother coming from his forgotten phone pulled him back to reality. Gently, he picked the device up, addressing his mother through her cries.
"Mom… I… I need you…" The sheer haunted quality of her son's voice cut Inko off mid-ramble. Izuku swallowed thickly, "I… I couldn't save her. I… I couldn't be a hero…"
Lost in his own shock, Izuku stared listlessly at his greatest failure; he was unbothered by the knowledge that the rags that adorned the girl hardly covered her private parts, that she was obviously not wearing underwear, that scars and bruises covered more of her skin than not. Only one thing repeated in his mind, over and over again.
He was a useless kid after all… just a failure.
The police cars and ambulance arrived in front of the abandoned cabin just as the sun began to rise over the horizon. From one of the cars burst one Inko Midoriya, utterly drowning in her overly active imagination's fears regarding her son. Her eyes scanned the area, searching for her baby boy. Soon enough she found him, sitting on the cabin's porch, by the closed front door.
"IZUKU!" Inko screamed in anguish as she reached her distraught son, who looked as if he hadn't stopped crying until he physically couldn't produce any more tears.
"Mom… I think I'm cursed," were the only words Izuku uttered as he was engulfed within the fierce embrace of his mother. This only served to increase the poor woman's distress.
"Don't say that! You did everything you could—more even! No Hero could say the same here!" Inko nearly shouted as she gave her baby kisses on his head. She knew, call it maternal instinct, that her son was going through his life's most dire moment to date; he'd given his all to save someone, be a hero like he'd always wanted, and failed.
"It's ok kid, we'll take it from here," announced the cop, a young woman with close cropped hair, that had driven the car Inko had arrived in. The uniformed woman reached for the door of the cabin, but froze when the boy she and her coworkers had been sent to find seized her wrist. She made a mental note that the boy's grip was much too strong for one his age.
"Miss Officer… do you have a gun?" It wasn't so much the question that scared both the cop and Inko, but the disturbed look that gazed out from Izuku's eyes.
"Izuku?" Inko hesitantly took a step towards her son.
"I-I'm sorry! I swear I didn't mean to!" Izuku suddenly cried in distress, incredible guilt weighing his words.
"Alright kid! Why don't you take a breath and calmly explain what you did," the cop suggested sweetly, before adding, "And why I need my gun to go into the cabin." Fully expecting the little boy to confess to staring at the naked body of the victim, or perhaps even to touching it as his puberty-driven hormones came into play, she was not prepared for the reality of the answer.
"M-My Quirk—I… I heal abnormally fast. I-It's my blood you see? I… I tried to use it… on her…" Bashfully, Izuku lifted his muddied shirt, revealing fading scars that the cop immediately recognized as bullet wounds… months old bullet wounds by all appearances. Inko nearly fainted on the spot, her worst fears confirmed. Someone had tried to kill her baby, shot him multiple times over in fact, and if it weren't for his regeneration they'd have succeeded. And even with his Quirk, she knew he'd felt every agonizing second of his injuries.
"So… Is she dead, or not?" The uniformed woman asked, apprehensive now. Police academy and in service training scenarios relating to uncontrolled Quirk-use flashed through her mind. She really hoped they weren't going to have to deal with an angry and disoriented villain now.
"No! I mean, yes… I mean… you may need to… use… your gun." Discomforted by the child's nonsensical answer, the policewoman readied her gun while Inko, still wrapping her son in her arms, stepped the two away from the cabin's door. Just in case.
"Okay… you two, stay here while I check things inside," the policewoman said as she steeled herself. She could do this. She's seen just how wild and unpredictable uncontrolled Quirk-use could get. This wasn't going to be anything she couldn't handle.
Gun first, the policewoman slowly entered the cabin. Instantly, her mind set about cataloguing the large pool of blood in the center of the room, the metal lumps that had to be used bullets—there were a lot of them—and the bloody footprints that led to a corner of the room where the victim stood. The victim stood?!
Jerking back, the policewoman frantically swung her gun up and around. The victim was eerily pale, cause unknown, though her hair was new moon midnight black and fell straight down to her waist. It was obvious that it was a her, as the bits of cloth that could be considered clothes did next to nothing to provide modesty as the girl stood there in all of her six feet… Oh God she was standing…
"Young lady, are you okay? Do you need medical attention? Help of any kind?" The policewoman asked the standardized questions as she took small steps forward, gun slightly lowered. The girl, who's head had been bowed, straightened and faced forward. Now the policewoman could see that it wasn't clothes she was wearing, but the remains of a sackcloth dress cut to serve as impromptu clothing. She knew from records that this was often seen with girls who'd been sold as sex slaves; the now visible scars crisscrossing the girl's body leading credence to this line of thinking.
"Huuhh…" The girl groaned, her lifeless red eyes staring through the policewoman. Unsure if she'd been understood, the uniformed woman tried again.
"E-Eto… why don't you come over here?" The policewoman asked, "We can get you checked out." At the edges of her mind, an unsettling word, a thought, began to take root. She really wanted to ignore its possibility.
"Aaahh…" Another groan. The girl took a step forward, but in every way the movement appeared unnatural. It was more jerkish than a limp, but smoother than a wholly robotic movement. It was as if something else moved the girl's body.
"You know what, no. Alright? Better just stay there. I'll call the experts!" The policewoman finally succumbed to her fear; she wasn't dealing with a sick or injured person. This was an honest to God reanimated corpse.
"Mmmaaaahhh…" The slightly louder moan, accompanied by the corpse beginning a swaying motion, was all it took for the policewoman to panic and, without warning, shoot her entire clip dead center into the chest of the thing before her. The girl barely reacted.
"Eh?!" There were no words for the emotions running through the policewoman as she watched the girl peer down at her bullet-riddled chest for a brief moment before turning an empty red-eyed glare her way. When the growling started, she dropped her gun, turned, and fled, hoping to move faster than the girl fitfully striding after her.
"NNOOOOO!" The policewoman screamed as she burst from the cabin, tripping as she reached the gravel outside. Inko watched in utter horror as the officer landed almost in front of her just as a pale, dark-haired girl nearly flew out of the cabin after her. The young girl looked to be in a feral rage and the green-haired woman immediately moved to shield her son from the coming violence when—
"STOP!" Izuku shouted. The girl immediately froze, all momentum suddenly gone, as she stood, back straight, seeming to be awaiting further command.
"Did… did you just…" the policewoman broke herself off, half expecting this to be a dream, half expecting it to be a nightmarish reality.
"Izuku… you… did this?" Inko ventured to ask, doing her best to convey love and understanding in the face of the situation.
"I'm sorry mom… I… I think my Quirk makes… zombies," Izuku said, guilt darkening his face, regret deadening his voice.
"It's okay baby, you didn't know this would happen. You didn't do it on purpose! I'm sure this won't cause you any problems. Isn't that right, Officer?" Inko assured as she looked to the policewoman with pleading eyes.
"OF COURSE YOU'RE IN BIG TROUBLE! Young man, what you did was—" A growl was all it took to cause the policewoman's words to die in her throat. The rumbling was deeper this time, almost as if denoting… hatred?
"Why did I have to have such a horrible Quirk? I must be cursed!" Izuku cried. He didn't want this. This would only bring him more problems.
"I'm sorry, Izuku… it's my fault, not yours," Inko cried too, holding herself responsible for this disaster. She's the one who couldn't even give her son a better Quirk.
Running back to her car, the policewoman called for immediate backup, the single other officer that had gone to clear the area wasn't going to be enough to deal with this. As it was, she couldn't bare to take her eyes off the zombie. It had to be dangerous. It had to be. Every movie ever pointed to the creatures being infectious and rabid. Calling on every Quirk report she'd ever had to schlep through as a rookie, her memory recalled the fact that there were other zombie-maker Quirks out there, so someone had to know what to do now.
Hours later, local police station…
Izuku and Inko sat in the small, rather plain office, patiently waiting for the station chief to direct them as to the procedures they were to follow now. Besides knowing they needed to deal with the new development of the younger's Quirk, the only reassurances the two had received had been that there would be no charges or fines for what had happened.
"Are you alright? Does it hurt?" Inko asked to her baby boy once again, intently searching over his torso and the holes in his shirt. Izuku lifted the piece of cloth to show his naked chest and back in an obvious show of obedience and understanding.
"Not anymore Mom." Izuku patted his front, now showing unblemished skin and no signs of ever having been hurt in the first place.
"But this is good, right?" Izuku said, "Now we know bullet's can't kill me… too bad my body didn't shield her though…" Covering himself again, the green-haired boy directed his eyes to the mistake he'd made.
The undead girl stood by his side, lifeless eyes lost to a distant horizon. The presently vacant expression she sported denoted lack of any active intelligence or will. This had made the trek from the cabin additionally nightmarish.
Unwilling to have the girl sit next to her in her vehicle, the policewoman's reticence had Izuku suffering being squished in the back of the cruiser with a corpse while Inko was left to constantly fret over her son's position in the front. While Inko's situation was unfortunate, the adults had found that Izuku's presence was the only thing keeping the monster calm and quite.
Reaching the station hadn't improved matters by much. Both Izuku and the zombie girl were immediately subjected to a barrage of medical tests, only the green-haired boy's command forcing the undead girl to comply. Unfortunately, having his blood drawn for samples proved to be too much for the accidental monster, who'd become enraged at the sight. Izuku managed to calm the girl after repeated commands, and no one was hurt, but all present remained spooked afterwards.
"Izuku, the human body isn't meant to stop bullets! Don't you dare jump in the way like that again! What would have happened if you had been shot in the head?" Inko admonished her son, her worry made evident that she just wanted him to be safe.
"He'd probably survive." The station chief followed his statement into the room, scrunching his nose at the fetid odor that filled his office. Holding onto his professionalism, he refrained from commenting on it.
The two Midoriya stood, bowing to the man. He appeared well above his forties, and sported a receding hairline, but overly large arms that strained the seams of his shirt.
"Excuse me?" Inko ,obviously horrified at the prospect of her baby son being shot in the head… or anywhere to start with, gasped.
"I would?" Izuku asked with a frown, not knowing if that was good or not, or why the chief though such was possible.
"You survived gunshots to the heart, lungs, and the liver… at the same time. I've seen many a regeneration Quirk during my career, but yours is the most prolific by far," the chief explained as he took his seat, shuffling the files on his hands. "Are you sure it's a mutant type?"
"Well, that's what the doctor said. And it's not like he consciously goes about ordering his blood to heal him, it just happens," Inko explained for his son, who limited himself to nodding. He didn't want to start stuttering now.
"I see… anyway, let's start by addressing the… less-than-deceased here. We were able to find a match in our database. This here is Tae Yamada…" The chief began to read a file, taking glances between the zombie and the picture in the profile.
"Oh, that's great! Izuku, at the very least we can return her to—"
"—No, I'm sorry. Says here she was disowned by her parents for running away with her boyfriend… who was also her idol manager in the making? Well, that's what it says here anyway," the chief interrupted. He coughed in the face of what followed in the file. "She was registered to missing persons by her friends when they couldn't contact her after an entire month of trying. Unfortunately this scenario fits the M.O. a certain ring of traffickers uses to pull in victims for… trafficking…"
"Poor girl! But why?" Inko was quick to pity the zombie girl, who appeared unaware that the conversation was about her.
"Well, she's Quirkless for one, and came from a troubled family," the chief continued, "I know it sounds cruel, but some people tend to use their Quirkless members as bargain chips, offering up girls like Tae as brides in exchange for social status, or as a way to ensure they can marry at all. Nowadays, it's not as if many, heroes included, desire 'normal' companionship."
Both mother and son gasped at the truth of their society, though Inko was less surprised than she let on.
"Now, continuing with the report… Ms. Yamada presents numerous scars corresponding to physical abuse… signs of forced abortions… at least six STDs came up as positive, with a few of her internal organs showing the typical degradation caused by such… in fact, the fetid odor I'm sure you noticed is more than likely a result of this degradation," the chief would've continued his explanation, but paused at the horrified look Inko shot her son's way.
"And no, your son is perfectly clean, even when he had such close contact with her. We were only able to test for STDs though, as his blood's short life span doesn't seem to have changed since the original tests." Izuku hadn't even considered disease transfer during the haze of his panic. Hearing that he was in the clear now caused him no small relief. Relief shared by Inko in no small measure.
"Now, to address your situation Mr. Midoriya," the chief regained their attention, making mother and son go stiff in response to seriousness of his voice.
"Y-yes s-s-sir?" Izuku cursed his typical stutter, though it softened the face of the chief.
"Son, I'm afraid to be the one to tell you this… but you're now the owner of a reanimated corpse," the chief declared, sounding for all the world as if he'd just passed a life sentence. Maybe he had.
"What?!" Mother and son exclaimed at the same time, neither of them even considering they'd be keeping the zombie.
"There is no third party we can contact to reclaim the body," the chief began his explanation, "In addition, she no longer has legal documentation proving her identity. More importantly, according to the Quirk Laws regarding the Quirk Registry, your powers must be studied in every aspect presented. This means we need to know how long you can keep her moving and when she stops for good. Upon such occurring you will be required to report to the registry for further instructions and perhaps even surrender the body for further study by the local authority."
"Is… is this legal? For me to… keep her?" Izuku asked, avoiding with all his might suggesting that he'd own the girl beside him.
"That is how it's worded, and that's what the higher ups said over the phone," the chief assured before fixing Izuku with a stern look, "That being said, necrophilia is still illegal."
Hours later, Izuku, Inko, and their new… friend, arrived home emotionally drained, and intensely hungry. The camping trip had been all but forgotten, overwritten by the pressing need to feel clean after everything they'd just been through. With matching heavy sighs, and a groan from their newest member, they stumbled through their front door.
"Mom… do you think I can be a hero?" Izuku asked while looking at the zombie girl with apologetic eyes. Inko's heart ached at his plea and the obviously dark thoughts crossing his mind.
"Yes, my baby boy, you can. Maybe… maybe she can do the heavy lifting, and you can focus on using your wonderful mind!" Inko replied, liking the idea of her son staying away from danger, even if that meant using a poor corpse as a meat shield.
"Yeah… maybe…" Izuku wasn't convinced, but decided to drop the subject, favoring the idea of taking a long bath to think things over. He decided he'd go to bed early, he needed time to make plans regarding how to approach his Quirk, and how he was going to deal with school.
"Well now, come help me to give this girl a bath, she needs a good cleaning," Inko said, a sudden idea for helping her son gain a little confidence after his ordeal popping into her head. It would also reduce the fetid odor that had followed their newest member home. Hopefully.
"WHAT?!" Izuku nearly had a heart attack at the order he'd been given… or maybe he had… he probably wouldn't even notice.
That day, Izuku learned more about women than he'd ever had in sex-ed class…
Magnus: If you managed to finish this, thanks for reading! Things may get worse as the story continues. On another, brighter note, in a few weeks I'll publish a BNHA X Konosuba crossover, so you have something less dark to read, until then, see ya!