The Next Day – Inko Midoriya's Funeral
The sky was gray, heavy with clouds, as if mourning along with the small crowd gathered at the cemetery. The quiet murmurs of the attendees blended with the distant rustling of leaves.
Izuku stood near his mother's coffin, dressed in a simple black suit, his expression unreadable. His green eyes, usually filled with determination, now held only emptiness.
In his hand, he held his phone, pressed against his ear.
On the other end, a man's voice spoke—calm, distant, and feigning sadness.
"Izuku, I'm sorry... I can't make it to the funeral."
Hisashi Midoriya.
A father he barely knew.
"Work has me tied up overseas. You'll have to handle things alone. But I know you can do it—you're a strong kid."
There was no hesitation in his voice. No real grief. Just empty words, spoken out of obligation.
Then, with a voice devoid of emotion, he replied,
"It's fine. I can manage."
He ended the call before Hisashi could say anything else.
The phone screen went dark.
Izuku had known the truth about Hisashi for years.
Long ago, he had investigated his father, uncovering a truth his mother had never known—Hisashi had abandoned them to start a new family overseas. Yet, Izuku felt no resentment.
How could he?
Not when he himself was far worse.
Unlike Hisashi, who simply left, Izuku had orchestrated his own mother's death.
Izuku's plan wasn't simple. It was meticulously crafted, calculated down to the smallest detail.
He first found his pawn—Kenji, an ordinary office worker whose daughter was suffering from cancer. A desperate man willing to do anything to save his child.
Using Soul State, Izuku influenced Kenji's thoughts, subtly pushing him toward a breaking point.
But Kenji was hesitant. He wasn't a criminal.
So, Izuku tightened his grip. He amplified Kenji's anxiety, deepened his desperation, and made sure the man believed that this was his only option.
Then, the final piece: Inko.
Izuku manipulated her subconscious, ensuring that the moment she was attacked, she would activate her quirk in panic.
Kenji never intended to kill her.
But panic breeds mistakes.
When Inko's quirk activated
A blade that pierced her throat.
And as she lay there, dying in a pool of her own blood—Izuku watched.
His plan had succeeded.
Kenji was not a murderer by nature, but now he had blood on his hands. He would be forced to run, hide, and eventually break under the weight of guilt.
As he stood at the funeral, lost in thought, a familiar voice called out to him.
All Might, in his skeletal form, approached with a grave expression.
"Young man," All Might said, his voice laced with sympathy. "We've investigated your mother's murder. The suspect's name is Kenji—an office worker. We haven't located him yet, but we will. Justice will be served."
Izuku's cold, detached gaze met All Might's.
"You don't have to do anything. I'll deliver justice myself."
All Might frowned. "Young Midoriya, I know you're in pain, but you have to trust us—"
Izuku didn't reply. He simply turned and walked away, leaving the funeral behind.
—
Two Days Later
All Might's phone rang.
He picked it up and heard a single sentence before the line went dead.
"I found him."
A chill ran down his spine.
"Young Midoriya, you can't do this!" he shouted into the phone, but it was too late. The call had already ended.
Panic set in. All Might knew that Izuku was no ordinary boy. If he had truly set his mind on revenge, nothing would stop him.
Without wasting a second, he dialed another number.
"Asahi, I need you to track a phone number. It's urgent!"
The voice on the other end was calm. "Understood, All Might. I'll have it traced in two minutes."
—
Meanwhile, at an old, run-down house…
A man sat hunched in front of his television, his nervous hands gripping his knees. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he watched the news.
"Breaking news: The murder of Inko Midoriya remains unsolved. Authorities are still searching for the suspect, Kenji, an office worker who has been missing since the incident."
Kenji's breathing quickened.
"I didn't mean to do it… I didn't mean to do it…"
He rocked back and forth, muttering the same words over and over.
And then—