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"Let me go! Let me out!"
Their voice was sore and tired. Unidentifiable in gender or age. But the exhaustion and fear bled clear through. Trapped within it's cage it couldn't escape. There was never an escape for it.
"Are you ready to discuss our deal?" a deep timbered voice spoke clearly and without care.
The being shuddered. Then hissed in rage.
"You summoned me here for a deal? For that deal?"
The cage was kicked. The being inside tumbled, pain biting into the skin that slammed against the wire.
"Or, I could let my doctor have you."
The being froze. Come hell or high water, the being did not want to be placed in the "professional" hands of the doctor in question. Creatures told stories of the man more demon than human in mind alone. Of how he delighted in tearing beings apart and recrafting them into shells of their former selves, enslaved to the whims of the deranged demonic human. He made even the most dangerous of beings flee for their lives. But when there was so little to lose, the being already trapped.
"You keep that lunatic away from me."
"Only if you make the deal."
The being grew quiet. It hated being controlled and told what to do. It went against everything against it's ability to control itself. Obakes were wild and free with their form. Not forced to parade around at the whim of some human. But life wasn't fair. It was cruel and vile to bring them into the clutches of the man "offering" the deal.
"Show me the picture."
The man's smile could have scared even the most fearsome of beings. The crinkle in his eyes appeared sharp enough to spill the blood of his enemies, painting his eyes the same hue. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the picture of the form the deal required the Obake to remain stuffed in for who knew how long. The picture painted quite the contrast to the large man before him. The picture had a small child, with wild dark curls with a green hue, brilliantly wide green eyes. Innocence incarnate with cherubic cheeks, dusted with diamond like freckles. The child could be no older than ten.
"This is the form that you will take."
"For how long?"
"The deal."
No answer. Just the demand of the being accepting, or being thrown to his demented doctor.
"Fine," the being begrudgingly agreed. It was the only chance at freedom.
The skin rippled, changing from shadow and amebic structure, into pale, smooth skin, mirroring the image to the letter.
"Good."
All the Obake had been asked to do, was slip into the identity of the child. To save their skin, it was done. The child walked alone, was easily grabbed by the man who held it prisoner, and the Obake "slipped into the shoes" of the target. Simple. They could play the part of the child. Then when no one was looking, they could slip away. Perhaps even leave the very next day. It could fake being this "Midoriya Izuku" for one day.
It followed the instructions left behind, finding the home of its' identity easily and entering the property.
"Oh Izuku! Welcome home Izuku. How was your day?" a sweet voice asked.
"It was good mom," the being responded. Who else would sound like that in this type of apartment? A sister? No. Too old.
"That's great Izuku. Want to join me in the kitchen?"
"Sure mom."
He walked into the kitchen and was greeted with the antithesis of the man who forced him into the form of this woman's child. Her hands were warm and inviting as she reached out for a hug. The being gladly accepted the hug. It was warm. It was so soft.
"I'm making your favorite."
"Thanks mom!"
Simple. Could this deal be any easier to complete? As long as they ignored the sheer wrongness of what they had done, taking a small child from what seemed to be a loving mother, this would soon be over.
They always told themselves that there was always tomorrow to leave. Always was tomorrow.
It was always tomorrow when he was told he couldn't be a hero. When had the obake decided to be a he? When had he decided to be a hero? W̶h̶e̶n̶ h̶a̶d̶ h̶e̶ t̶a̶k̶e̶n̶ u̶p̶ t̶h̶e̶ r̶e̶a̶l̶ I̶z̶u̶k̶u̶'s̶ l̶i̶f̶e̶ a̶n̶d̶ m̶a̶d̶e̶ h̶i̶s̶ d̶r̶e̶a̶m̶s̶ h̶i̶s̶ o̶w̶n̶?̶
Why couldn't he let the dream of heroism go?
When had he become Midoriya Izuku?